#also gave up on this halfway looking at it through squinted eyes is very much appreciated

[raingoesup]

[undercovercameron]

sunspent

summary: you're relaxed and calm in the obx summer heat, and rafe simply cannot have that.

notes: filthy filthy filthy! sorry not sorry bout it. also minor obx 3 spoilers; ie his parents are on that damn island and its just him in their big ole house. semi public sex kink and def a choking kink beware or be scared! i truly cannot write anything without that damn hand around reader's throat.. that's my b. enjoy! also thank you so much for all the love on my fics and the followers... so excited for all i will write in the future and so incredibly full of love from you guys <3

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2542

The whole day had been perfect. 

You woke up around 9:30, brushed your teeth, and went downstairs to have some oatmeal. By 10:30 you were in a bikini and setting out a towel on the back deck. 

The sun was fairly hot, but the early warnings of a storm gave a cooler breeze. Your towel was in the perfect spot between the shade where you could get full sun coverage without moving too much. 

Gentle music was playing from your speaker, something that sounded like what your mom listened to in highschool, and a couple vodka seltzers laid unopened in a small cooler for you to enjoy later. You were also halfway through a mystery book, and between the pages of every chapter you let the time drift away from you. 

The most relaxing part of the start of your day? Rafe had left the house around 9 and had yet to return by the time you cracked open your seltzer at 1 o’clock. No ranting, no typical Rafe-isms— just sunshine and Paula Abdul. You wished he was able to do this with you. 

It was so relaxing that you drifted off to sleep a little more than halfway through your drink, head resting on your folded arms. 

“Y/N.” Something rigid and distinctly shoe-like nudges your arm. “Baby.”

You just groan and turn over onto your back, arms following to protect your eyes from the sunlight. 

“Hi,” you croak, squinting, and peer up at him. He looks like the Statue of Liberty in this light— if the statue of liberty wore light wash jeans and slutty little beer brand t-shirts. (So on brand for him.)

“How long have you been out here?” He asks, bending to pick up what’s left of your seltzer for one final swig. 

“Since like 10:45.” Your face breaks in a yawn and your arms fall to the deck as your eyes get used to the light. A smile creeps onto your face. “What’ve you been doing?” You sit up on your hands, scanning his body. He looks kinda sweaty. 

“Um,” he starts, scratching at his forehead with a sigh. “Buncha shit. Went into a couple places to close Ward’s accounts with them—oh, I saw your mom at Cold Stone by the way.”

“Why were you at Cold Stone?” You grin, crossing your legs and pushing at his calf with your foot. He makes an innocent face, hands on his hips. He looks to the trees, playfully exasperated.

“Sometimes I need a milkshake, Y/N. What kind of question is that?” You snort. “Anyway— I think we should go out for dinner. It’s getting to be—shit, it’s almost 4.”

You’re silent, save for some puny, whiny noise you make at the mention of going out. You struggle to get up, a little wobbly on your feet, but Rafe catches you and hauls you up with a hand on your waist. 

“What?” He brushes the wispy hairs out of your face. “You don’t want to go out?” He searches your face, blue eyes squinting down at you, and you just pout. In the most mature way a 20-something can when faced with leaving her very rich boyfriend’s very nice house who has asked her to stay with him graciously for the very near future while his parents are retired on some island in the middle of the ocean. 

You curl a finger around the collar of his t-shirt, playing with it while you formulate an answer. 

“Where would we go?” Is what you settle on, ever the people pleaser. 

“I don’t know…” Rafe thinks, gaze drifting from you as he chews at his lip. You wind your arms around his shoulders, hands splayed across his wingspan. You pet the skin of his neck with your thumb, warm all over. You’re content just looking at him forever. 

“What if I’m hungry now?” You ask, ever so innocently, and Rafe thinks you’re serious until he catches the look on your face. 

“That right?” He grins, hand sliding down your back. He grabs at your ass and you squeak. “How hungry? Wait until after dinner?” He’s just teasing you honestly; it’s almost a hobby to see how desperate you get for him. 

“Rafe.” You pinch his shoulder. “That’s not funny.”

He just hums noncommittally, and dips to press a kiss to your neck. You shift up onto your tiptoes, wanting to be closer, and he hikes one of your legs up onto his hip. You can’t help the noise you make. 

“Rafe,” you breathe, grabbing at him. “We have to go inside.” He bows forward, dangling you towards the wood of the deck, and you just hold tighter onto his shoulders. 

“Why?” He murmurs, lost in your taste, and presses a kiss to your mouth that makes you shiver. “I don’t see why we have to.” He falls into a kneel, bringing you with him, and you suck in a surprised gasp. “Nobody’s around.”

“Somebody could be, baby,” you say, chancing a look around, and huff out a sigh when he lays you onto your back. This man. 

“I don’t care,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with not a care in the world before following you down. 

This bikini might be his favorite. He likes anything that will leave as little to the imagination as possible, but this one is his favorite shade of blue. Almost matches his eyes. 

Your warm skin feels like silk on him, and when you wriggle when he presses a hand to your inner thigh, his dick jumps. 

“Relax, Y/N,” he breathes. You roll your eyes. 

“How can I, Rafe? You’re so—aggravating.” You huff. He’s still wearing his shirt, too. You tug at the sleeves of it. 

“Oh, yeah?” He cocks his head, lips pursed. You just nod, pulling again at the fabric of his shirt. “Why’re you so wet, then?” He fumbles with the buckle of his jeans and your eyes lock on it.  

“I’m not.” You look back up at him, self-assured to a fault, and try to will the dampness between your legs away. He just stares down at you, unimpressed. “I-I’m not.” Your thighs close. 

“That right?” He murmurs, and wrestles your legs open again with an arm. His fingertips brush the crotch of your bottoms and you jolt, breathing hard out your nose. He lifts your hips and pulls them clean off, tossing them to the side. 

He’s silent then, gaze locked between your legs, and he carefully guides your legs back until you can grab them by the back of your thighs and keep them out of his way. 

“Not wet, my ass,” he murmurs to himself. His thumb rubs at your clit, and your sigh of pleasure ends in an impatient whine. He spits. “This pussy—,” he starts, but can’t finish. 

He just bows and gets his mouth on you like he’s been thinking about since he left the house. Your head slams back against the deck almost immediately. 

His large palm flattens to the back of your thigh and pushes your leg even further. The muscle strains but you can handle it. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue pushes hard through your folds. You’re really fucking wet. You wonder briefly if it’s because of how hot it was today, then cast that out of your mind completely when you hear Rafe groan. Your body vibrates with it. 

His hands suddenly drag you by your hips, closer to his face, and he hums again. 

“Taste so fucking good,” he muses, spitting at you, and glances up at your face. You can barely keep your mouth closed like this. “Brat, lying to me.”

You whine, every second of him talking taking his mouth away from where it so desperately needs to be absolute torture, but settle when his thumb begins tracing circles into your clit. 

“Fuck me,” you breathe, back arching and leg muscles straining, and Rafe just laughs into your cunt. 

“I will,” he murmurs, and you would roll your eyes if you could— but he pushes two fingers into you. His thumb spurs back into motion as you sing, throat already sore. He knows exactly where and when to curl his fingers, and you let him know right there is where they need to be. 

“There you go.” He spits a third time, watching it mix with your slick. “Squeezing me so tight, honey,” he assures you, smoothing a hand down your thigh. If you could find words you’d agree. 

You manage a “yes, shit,” before you go mute and your eyes roll back into your head. You squeeze around him like a vice, your legs flooding with warmth, and he fingers you through your orgasm. He can’t pull himself away when you get like this— you’re so soft and warm and perfect that he genuinely wonders if he could ever fuck someone else again. He knows the answer is no. 

Your abdominal muscles spasm and jolt as you come down, neck straining to look at where his fingers give you a final stroke and find their way to his mouth. 

“Fuck, Rafe,” you half-laugh and half-moan, head falling against the deck. You chest heaves as you catch your breath. “This is embarrassing.”

“What?” He says, voice hushed, and presses a kiss to your mouth. “Being on the deck or how quick I can make you cum?” He grins. 

This time you can and do roll your eyes. 

“Both,” you sigh, legs falling to their place around his hips. You curl up into a sitting position and pet his arm, coming back to reality. He smells like sunshine. “But you still haven’t fucked me yet.”

Your fingers trail down to his jeans, fingertips ghosting over his zipper. He hums in agreement, eyes following. You play with the button for a second, just wanting to tease, but pop it and unzip the fly. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” You ask, reaching up his shirt to feel his hot skin. “That time on the beach,” you purr, voice hushed and eyes wild. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip and sits back on his ass, taking you with him in his lap. Your knees bend and you sit comfortably on the seat that is only yours. “You thinking about my hand?”

“Mhm.” You lean and kiss at his cheek, trailing down to his jaw. “And something else.” You dig a hand down into his boxers and curl your fingers around his dick. 

He’s hot and almost slippery, so hard you’re sure it’s painful. Your wrist slides against the tip and his hand on your ass curls into a fist. 

You lean back, wanting to see his face, and watch as your touch washes over his body. He blinks rapidly, eyes focusing, and you smile sweetly. 

It’s then that you shift into your knees, hand squeezing his dick, and sink down onto him.

His fingers fly up to your strained face and grasp your neck, immediately tight around your throat. Not tight enough to suffocate, but tight enough for your pulse to quicken. 

Exactly what you’d imagined. 

“You like that?” He pants, breath fanning over your cheek when you turn slightly and grip his shoulder for stability. You just nod and circle your hips. 

His thumb on your chin guides your face back to his, wanting to see you fall apart, and you make a whiny noise. He feels where it starts and ends between his fingertips. 

You ride between the strain of his hand around your throat and the movement of his body, head tilted back and mouth wide. Your fingers grip his shoulder and bicep as you ride. 

It’s a difficult job, balancing the rhythm of your hips with the ache blooming from the muscles in your thighs, but you make it work. 

You hear the bashfully whiny groans he’s exhaling into your ear and you make it work. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper hoarsely as his hold tightens, chin tilting towards the sky. He grits his teeth and pushes his hips up into yours. 

You scramble to grab onto his forearm and hold back your shriek. 

The tightness of his fingers around your throat blur the lines of pleasure and pain, making it hard to catch a deep breath and ride him at the same time. 

“Fuck, harder,” he stutters, almost whispering, and you nod furiously. Your thighs meet his lap, over and over with a noise that makes you blush even more than you already are, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises or at the very least a red mark. 

He releases your throat and anchors himself with your hip and the small of your back, and when you finally gasp for air at the loss of his pressure on your neck he uses all his lower back strength to wedge himself deep into you. 

You know you’ll have bruises there. 

You push hard against his forearm as your back arches and the tension in your lower abdomen comes to a peak. Your toes curl where they are at his side.

Your vision comes in and out of focus as you cum again, blood white-hot in your veins. The climax is almost numbing. Addicting. 

At this point you have no idea the noises you’re making, probably all gibberish and definitely humiliating, but the rushing in your ears is too much. 

Rafe shudders and groans loudly into your ear, spending himself inside of you with a grunt, and you follow him as he falls back into the deck. You catch yourself with a palm on the sun scorched wood. 

“Jesus Christ,” he pants, heart pounding and chest heaving. Sweat coats his buzzed hair in a shiny sheen, and your whole body is so sticky you feel like you could peel the layer of perspiration off of your body. 

His hands still lazily hold your waist and they begin their ascent to your neck. He feels your pulse with the space between his thumb and forefinger, and his face splits into a grin at the feeling. 

“I definitely am going to need some food after this.” You push yourself back up into a sitting position and put your hands on your hips as you finally catch your breath. 

He looks so beautiful, half in the shade and half in the sun. Laid out beneath you. Still inside. Like some kind of god. 

The hot sun is in his eyes, and his body is numb with the tension spent in his muscles. Rafe half wonders if his dick is still fucking there. 

He barely feels when you crawl off of him and stumble into standing. He jerks up into a sitting position, that familiar ache in his back present, and grabs for your leg. He winces at the stretch. You should really be paying his chiropractor bill. 

“Where are you going?” He accuses, voice scratchy in his throat. 

“I need to shower, baby.” You bend to pick up your bikini bottoms. “We’re going to dinner, aren’t we?” You smile and turn back around to go inside, ass bare and a huge red mark in the shape of a large hand curved around the trunk of your throat. 

Yeah, drive-up it is.

#obx #obx 3 #obx 3 spoilers #rafe cameron #obx fanfic #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #obx x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fic #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine

[violetstarcatcher]

Everything I Do - Danny Wagner

This is my Danny series 'Everything I Do' based off the Brian Adams song!! I wrote this intending to make you sob your eyes out. I think it's going to be a 10 chapter series but it's still TBD.

I know, I know......you're welcome.

It's also disgustingly smutty but that's COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT.

Danny x Reader

Warnings: Kissing.... and that's pretty much it lmao. (smut in future chapters) 18+ MINORS GET LOST

Anyway enjoy!

It was late summer. I was driving along his little street with the windows down going well over the speed limit. It had only been four days since I’d seen him last but it was definitely still too long. 

He’d been in Detroit for a show and his band had booked some studio time over the weekend. I always desperately missed him when he was away, which seemed to be more and more frequently. 

My brown hair whipped around my face and got sucked out the window as I drove closer and closer to his house. I’ve known him since grade school and fell head over heels when he practically begged my dad to let him take me on a date. 

I swirled my spaghetti around my fork and put it in my mouth. As I was chewing, I heard a soft knock on the front door. I looked up at my dad from across the table questioningly. 

“Do you know who that could be?” He asked me. I shrugged and turned my attention back to my dinner. He push his chair back and walked over to the front door. I looked up from my plate as my unlocked and opened the front door. 

“Daniel, my boy!” My dad greeted him with a big smile. I felt my heart jump at his name. “Come in, come in!” He stepped off to the side and waved him to come into our house. 

Danny walked through my door and turned his head in my direction, offering me a smile grin. I smiled back at him and tried to swallow my food, only for it to get stuck halfway down my throat and I choked loudly. 

I didn’t want to spit my food back into my plate, but I had to get it out as I continued to choke on it. I stumbled out of my chair and ran to the trash can so I could cough it out of my lungs. 

I looked back up at them, well aware that my face was very red. Partially due to embarrassment, and partially from the lack of oxygen I had just undergone. 

I offered a small smile and Danny giggled and shook his head at me. “You good there, Y/N?” My dad asked, his eyebrows furrowed in slight concern. I gave him two thumbs up, still to embarrassed to speak. 

Danny turned his attention back towards my dad and shook his hand. It was then I took notice of the little stems and cellophane wrapping barely peaking out from behind his back. 

I squinted my eyes at it in hopes to see it better. They had been talking but I completely tuned them out in my attempt to guess what he held behind him. 

“Of course, Danny.” My dad said loudly patting him on the shoulder, snapping me out of zoning out. “I’m sure she won’t mind finishing her dinner up in her room while we talk. Right, Y/N?” My dad directed at me. 

“W-what?” I stuttered. “You don’t mind going upstairs for a bit while me and Danny have a little talk, right?” He raised his eyebrows in question. I looked between the two of them, trying to formulate a good sentence, only I had no clue was to say.

Why does he want to talk to my dad? Without me? That’s so weird that he’s here. He’s never done this. What’s behind his back? Why do I have to leave? 

“Right, Y/N?” My dad said a little louder. “Nope.” I finally managed. “Not at all.” I muttered under my breath. I kept my eyes to the floor as I walked over to the table to grab my plate. 

I walked a little slower than I should have on my way over to the stairs. I looked between them and at my dad’s hand still on his shoulder. I shook my head and started up the stairs feeling a single pair of eyes watching me on the way up. 

I closed my door and leaned my back up against it. I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. ‘You wanna know what they’re talking about don’t you?’ Said my consciousness, mocking me. I set my plate down on my desk and threw myself onto my bed.

“Shut up.” I said out loud. ‘Why don’t you go sit on the stairs and listen?’ It told me. I groaned into my pillow. I laid there for while. First 5 minutes, then 10, then 15, then 25… I thought they’d never be done. 

I got up from my bed and went to the door. As I reached for the handle I heard a little knock from the other side, causing me to yank my hand back, then rushing to open it a little too quick. 

There stood Danny in my doorway, rosy cheeks and a huge smile, and a bouquet of an eclectic assortment of little flowers in hand. He stood there, smiling down at me. 

The awkward tension started to build between us as we stared each other down. “These are for you.” He said suddenly shoving them into my arms. “I- oh…” I stumbled out, startled. “Uh- thank you, I guess. I mean- yes. Or- thank you. Yeah… thanks.” 

My face heated up so I hid it from him by sticking my face into the bouquet, pretending to smell the little flowers. “I love them.” He shifted his feet slightly and looked down at his hands, which I noticed were slightly trembling. “Can I come in?” He spoke, barely above a whisper. 

I nodded and stepped out of his way. As he walked by me, I could tell he smelled good. Really good. Not that he ever smelled bad, but he never smelled like… that. 

He walked around my room looking at my bed and the walls like it was his first time being there. I placed the flowers on my desk, next to my now cold plate of food. 

“So… what did you and dad talk about?” I asked, being too nosy to wait any longer. “Oh- uh…” he looked at me and scratched the back of his neck. I put my hands on my hips when he turned away from me and sat down on my bed. He looked up and held out his hand to me, which I took, concealing a smile. 

We sat next to each other on my bed, both looking at our hands still together. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Sunny.” I smiled at the nickname. 

“I- um…” he started to say, then he chuckled to himself and lifted his other hand to scratch the back of his head. “Sorry, I’m a little nervous…” he laughed out. “It’s just me, Danny.” I said matter of factly. 

“I know… but that’s why I’m nervous.” He brushed his foot on my rug. “But you already tell me everything.” He looked up at me. “Well…” My heart dropped a little. “What did you do?” I asked him slowly and cautiously. “Nothing!” He responded a bit too loud. “Nothing… I didn’t do anything.”

“Okay…” I drew out, still throughly confused. An awkward silence filled the air. ‘Please just say something, Danny.’ I begged him in my head. As if he heard my thoughts, he turned his head over in my direction. I met his gaze and his eyes swept over my face. 

“Y/N, I…” he started to say. “Yes?” I asked eagerly, desperate for him to say something. Anything. “I..” He tried again. “Yes..?” I pried. 

“I think I… like you.” He spoke barely above a whisper. My breath caught in my throat. “And not like friend. I mean, of course I still like you as a friend but not as much anymore.” He started rambling. “Not that I like you less that I did, because I still like you a lot obviously. You’re like… my best friend. And I don’t want to ruin that with you at all” I stared at him in disbelief. I’d wanted him to say this to me for years, and now that he was, I wasn’t sure how to respond. 

“But you’re so pretty, beautiful actually” he corrected himself with a nervous laugh. “You’re definitely the prettiest person I know. You’re smart, and hilarious, and I just really like you as more than a friend.”

“I guess I technically came here to ask you out, but I wanted to ask your dad first because I didn’t want him to get mad at me if I didn’t. So brought you flowers and I forgot what you said your favorites were so I just got a bunch of random ones that I thought were pretty.”

I blinked, stunned by what he was telling me, barely registering his words. He was looking everywhere but at me as he was rambling on and on. 

“I’m mostly nervous because I don’t want you to say no, which is fine if you do. I know your my best friend and I don’t know if you like me or not, but Sunny I REALLY like you and I wasn’t sure what to do about it so I asked my mom and she…”

I wasn’t quite sure what took over me in that moment, but I reached over and grabbed his face with both of my hands, and pushed my lips to his. It took me the entirety of five seconds for my eyes to shot open and realize what I was doing. 

I moved my hands to his chest and pushed him away a little too hard. We looked at each other for a few seconds before a clapped my hands over my mouth. “I’m so sorry.” I told him with wide eyes. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

His eyes burned into my skin as he stared at me. I felt suddenly self conscious so I looked into my lap as the heat rose to my face. I watched as his hands made there way to my hands, and he gently pulled them down.

Looking up, I saw he was smiling down at me. He shifted slightly closer to me on my bed, pulling me towards him. We stared at each other and I saw his eyes barely flicker down to my mouth causing me to involuntarily do the same. 

He leaned into me and placed his hands on either side of my neck. A magnetic force pulled us together until our lips met in the middle, creating a fluttering feeling in my chest that traveled to my head and all the way down to my toes. 

Long story short, we awkwardly made out on my bed until my dad came in and scared Danny to near death. The rest is history. It wasn’t until two years later Danny told me that he had to quite literally beg my dad to say yes. I was surprised he said yes, considering we were only in eighth grade, and not even fifteen yet. 

But we’ve been stuck to each other since then. The bubbles in my stomach started moving around in anxious excitement as I neared his house. Most of the time they met at the Kiszka’s, who were the rest of the band, but they were a little bit out of town so they just came back to Danny’s.

I saw their van as I came around a bend in the street and smiled ear to ear. They were all standing outside in the yard. I got a little closer and honked my horn three long times and they all looked over to my car. I quickly swung into his driveway next to his mothers Subaru. 

I turned off my car and threw the keys in the drivers seat. Pushing the car door open, I almost tripped going to fast. I ran around to the other side, where four boys stood smiling widely at me. 

Danny took a few big steps towards me with his arms open, which I gladly jumped into. I buried my face in the crook of his neck as he feathered my shoulder with a thousand little kisses around the spaghetti strap of my tank top. 

“Hey you.” He whispered between kisses. “How’re you?” I giggled into his neck. “I’m good, how’re you?” 

“I’m great now that you’re back.”

“It was four days.” He laughed as he set me on my feet again.

“Exactly. Too long.” I said, keeping my arms around his neck, looking up at him. 

“You’re such a goober.” He brushed my cheek with one hand. “Sometimes I wonder how you survived that tour last year.”

“I didn’t survive.” I said seriously. “I died a week and a half in, then you revived me just now.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Well I’m glad I was able to do that for you.” I pulled him down to me and kissed him. We pulled away when I heard a cough from behind him.

“Alright I hate to break up this cute little love fest we got going on here, but it’s my turn. Back off Dan.” 

I moved my hands down to Danny’s waist and peaked behind him. 

“Sammy!” I yelled and ran to him. Sam wrapped his arms around me and I threw my arms around his neck. He picked me up and spun me around a few times before setting me back on the ground. 

“Y/N, oh my gosh, we have so much to tell you!” He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “The studio was so nice and it was huge! And the show was amazing! It was almost two thousand people!” He told me excitedly while we held on to each others forearms.

“They even knew the words to Highway Tune! Sun, I wish you could have seen it! It was the best thing ever!”

“They did?!” I shouted. Sam eagerly nodded his head. “Sam that’s amazing! Gosh…” I laughed and put my hand to my forehead. 

I saw Josh and Jake watching us banter back and forth in our excitement. I let go of Sam’s arm and skipped over to them. “Hey!” 

“Oh now she notices us!” Josh said sarcastically, clearly holding in a smile. “Shut up and give me a hug, dummy.” I laughed and Josh pulled me into one. When he let go I went to give Jake the same. “Hey kiddo.” He smiled at me.

“Jake, you’re not even three years older than me.” I told him, shaking my head and laughing. He just giggled and shrugged. 

“Let’s go in” I suggested. “It’s hot out here.” I looked around and saw Danny wasn’t with us anymore. As if he read my thoughts Sam said, “He already went inside, probably to see his mom.”

“Ah, let’s definitely go in then.” I started towards the door. I walked in the door, holding in open for the brothers. “Ladies first.” I smirked as Sam walked up. “Oh, in that case, Jake, go right ahead of me.” Josh laughed loudly and Jake smacked him on the back of the head. “Ow, jerk.” Josh sneered at him. “Oh shut it, you baby.” Jake snickered.

Sam and I shared a knowing glance so I pulled him inside by his hand, shutting the door on the bickering twins. 

#greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #gvf imagine #jake kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #greta van fic #gvf smut #jake gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #sam gvf #gvf #danny wagner gvf #danny wagner is my boyfriend!! and i love him!!! #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner smut #danny wagner fic #sammy gvf #greta van fluff #greta van smut

[tllgrrl]

Becoming a Wilson

Back in The Couch Days, before permanently relocating to Louisiana:

Bucky is spending a between-assignments weekend at Sarah’s, helping around the house and the dock, and is, once again, awakened one night by a nightmare.

Unbeknownst to him, AJ hears his distress, having already been awakened by one of his own bad dreams, and he decides that Bucky not only needs his help, but he’ll also need his own mug for this to happen properly.

Sarah sees how much her children love this man, and she’s also having feelings about this ex-assassin that her brother brought to her home.

***Or***

Bucky gets a mug from AJ.

AJ gets a mug from Bucky.

Both will be well-used.

Sarah went downstairs.

It was 1:30am and she was awakened thinking she smelled something like—

(…chocolate and...cinnamon?…)

Then she remembered that Sam was in DC.

She found Bucky, sitting upright on the sofa, softy snoring, head leaning over as if listening;

and AJ, curled into his side, arms wrapped around the metal arm.

On the coffee table sat two empty mugs:

One red, AJ’s. The other—

(Blue? I forgot I even had a blue mug...)

She lightly touched AJ’s shoulder, the boy halfway woke and whispered:

“Uncle Bucky’s almost ‘sleep. He had a bad dream...so we made hot cocoa with cimamum, and I gave him his own very special mug. I’ll go back to bed in a minute, ‘k Momma?”

He closed his eyes and re-joined Bucky’s snoring.

Sarah looked at the two of them, lit by the ambient light coming through the curtains.

Her fingers first touched her lips, then her boy’s cheek.

“Okay, baby...”

She took off his glasses, placed them next to the mugs, reached out to touch Bucky’s cheek too, but caught herself just before fingers made contact.

She looked closely at him, noticed that the scowl line between his eyes was gone...and his mouth...was...

(…if he leaned up and kissed me...I’d let—)

She straightened up, shook her head, turned and quietly went back upstairs, fighting the urge to look back.

Bucky heard her bedroom door close, smiled and whispered “ ‘Night, Sarah...”

“Go to sleep, Uncle Bucky,” the boy murmured, eyes still closed, his hand patting the darkly shining metal arm.

“‘K, buddy...”

And looking at his own Very Special Mug, he did just that, peacefully sleeping the rest of the night, not waking until he heard her come downstairs to start breakfast.

“‘Mornin’ Sarah...”

3 weeks later…

Bucky was back in Brookllyn.

He had a few loose ends to tie up before relocating to Louisiana, including a final check-in on an elderly acquaintance, then dropping off something for his now ex-therapist, Dr. Raynor.

Sam was spending the weekend at Sarah’s.

Sitting on the living room couch, TV on, the volume turned down on pre-game chatter. He took notes on his laptop while reading through Captain America mission reports before the Saints/Niners game started, was taking a sip of coffee from a blue mug…when he felt eyes on him.

He looked up, and saw AJ standing in the kitchen entryway, staring at him.

“Wha’s up, Little Man? What you got there?”

The boy was holding a purple mug...and...just standing there. Staring.

“Isn’t this your mug, Uncle Sam?”

“Well…I do tend to use that one most of the time. LSU colors, you know.” AJ continues to stare.

“Purple and Gold...” Sam sees AJ’s eyes do a little squint as he continues to stare.

“Fighting Tigers...?”

(Waitaminute. AJ ‘s doing that stare-squint thing...just...like—)

********************

CaptAmericaSWilson: BUCKY

JBBarnesWW: Yes

JBBarnes:WW: Samuel?

CaptAmericaSWilson: so you have a mug here now?

…

…

JBBarnesWW: You mad?

********************

(Originally posted on AO3: Becoming a Wilson: The Gift of The Mug.)

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #aj wilson #sam wilson #fleur de louve #fanfiction

[americanclouds]

What the Thunder Said

@stratocumuulus

It began the way all dangerous things do; it crept in on silent feet, tested its claws on small, unseen corners, and briefly reveled in its strength before it sought out larger prey.

It ended the way a tree falls--with a sigh, a hush, and the distant ache of uprooting your bones from the earth. 

The way a tree falls--if no one is around to hear it, did it make a sound?

For all the jokes made at his expense, Freddy was more than capable of loading chains on his tires and bulldozing his way through snow-laden streets. 

(Or so he claimed: either way, this car was a rental from the airport and the roads had been cleared.)

“Fucking Manitoba,” he said bleakly, squinting out into the dark as he took a turn a little too sharply. “Fucking Canada.”

He thought wistfully of his brother’s cabin and its central heating and its goddamn beds where he could be horizontal for the first time in what felt like fucking centuries--and it was, of course, in the outskirts on the other fucking side of the city.

“Fucking Winnipeg,” he muttered, drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel as he stared up at the traffic light’s angry red eye.

It’d been a while since he’d graced his older brother with his presence for the holiday season--too long to really excuse with any degree of dignity, but running a nation--being a nation was never an easy task. They understood that. Understood each other. So the final warning signs that Freddy had let his absence stretch too long was an unfamiliar pang in his back, one that usually meant Matthew was overextending himself (too) and Freddy had to go step in to be the voice of reason. The stolen vacation time was never a bad trade-off. 

Then again, love was a much more vicious motivator.

He spent the rest of the drive thinking very pointedly of nothing, taking the route by rote muscle memory until he was pulling down a lane lined with familiar night silhouettes of rangy firs. He idled in front of the driveway, glancing up at his brother’s cabin contemplatively before pulling the rental forward and backing in at just the right angle to make Matthew’s next commute really fucking difficult. 

Freddy-1, Mattie-nil point.

He turned the car off and rested his forehead on the wheel, letting his eyes drift shut in fatigue for a brief moment.

The exhaustion was seeping in bone-deep, like he’d always been promised it would, like he always swore he’d never let happen. 

So he sighed and opened the car door, his traveling duffel slung over one shoulder. No--no matter how much they aged, he was never going to let them get that old. That resolution firmly in place, he whistled a few jaunty bars as he took the steps up to the front door two at a time, his stolen-without-necessarily-express-permission house key already in hand.

The foyer was dark as he forced the door open with a shove of his hip. 

“Matt?” Freddy called out absently, letting the bag drop to the floor. “Your stupid door’s sticking again--”

He glance sideways to catch sight of a pair of acid-green eyes watching him calmly from the darkened den and did not (did not!) scream like a little bitch.

“Goddamn fucking bear, Jesus fucking Christ, I swear to God you almost gave me a heart attack---what the fuck are you doing, you fat ass, you know you can’t be on the couch--chesterfield, couch, sofa, whatever, beat it.”

The polar bear (Freddy was also pointedly not examining how weird his daily life was that running into his older brother’s miniature polar bear or whatever the fuck it was was a normal occasion) leveled Freddy with a look that could only be labeled as “unimpressed”, but lumbered off the sofa obediently enough before disappearing...somewhere else.

“Matt? Mattie! Yo!” he called again, halfway up the creaking stairs already. “C’mon dipshit, you asleep?”

#stratocumuulus #((Here I am and making this V's problem just like an asshole)) #What the Thunder Said RP

[chrisevansredbelt]

The Snow Maiden: Two

read chapter 1 here!

pairing: bucky x reader, bucky x hydraexperiment!reader , bucky x enhanced!reader

warnings: not that much here i don’t think. maybe like mention of missing persons. kidnapping… uhhh hmm i think that’s it.

i’m sorry this chapter feels very short but i promise it’s juicy and a lot to unpack inside 🫣

summary: one very big step closer to finding out who the girl is? perhaps…

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After a moment of confused stares and glances between Steve and Tony, Steve speaks cautiously in a manner not to scare Bucky into thinking they don’t believe him or anything like that.

“How do you know?”

“The dream.” Is all he mutters out in response, a far off look in his eyes as he recounts the events in his dreams that turn up foggy in his mind. Squinting a little in frustration at how little he remembers even though he’d woken up less then 2 minutes ago, “I think- maybe, they tried to wipe my memories of her when they took her away.”

“They took her away?” Tony interjects, raised brows as he tries to piece out the puzzle.

“I don’t know-“ Bucky shakes his head, “In the dream, she was yelling for me… Like she was being taken.”

Tony just nods, taking note of the name before prompting Bucky to add more, “Anything else?”

Bucky thought for a second that he might mention the warm feeling he felt, her hands. But figured there wasn’t much they could probably do with that and they already knew about her hands. And maybe the warm feeling was just the thought of her… He doesn’t exactly know what he means by that. So he just shakes his head ‘no’.

Tony just nods, closing up the thick file in his hands that contained all the documents Steve had given him, plus the small scribble of the name ‘Y/N’, “I’ll let Fury know.”

And with that, Tony pulls out his phone and exits the lab.

It’s comfortably silent as Steve and Bucky sit across from each other now. Bucky deep in thought while Steve just waits patiently for Bucky to speak. After a while, Steve starts to notice the furrow in Bucky’s eyebrow deepen to a point where he grows a little concerned.

“Are you okay?” He breaks the silence in the room, making Bucky inhale quickly and come back down to earth.

“Yeah, yeah-“ He shakes his head, smiling shortly at Steve before sighing, “It’s not the worst dream I’ve had.”

He would’ve added a sly comment on how it was probably one of the better ones he’s had but that wasn’t exactly the mood at the moment.

Steve knew he was refraining from telling him what was really going on in his head. But that was okay, Steve was sure he was probably just overthinking.

Steve just offers a small smile in response before speaking, “I think- with what you’ve given us- we’ll be sure to find her in no time.”

Bucky had gone back to bed that night but it was no use. He tried to dream of her again, hoping to gather more information about her vicariously through his dreams but also because… something about the dream just made him feel warm.

It was so difficult to explain, but he just longed for that warmth so bad. The second he closed his eyes and felt the coldness of a nightmare start to build, he shot awake.

After a few more tries of dreaming that both led to one nightmare after the other, Bucky eventually gave up and found that it would soon be morning anyway.

-

When it was a more decent time of the morning, Bucky had made his way down to the compound gym before showering and making himself breakfast.

Halfway through eating, Steve had clapped him on the shoulder with a hopeful look on his face and signalled for Bucky to follow him.

Bucky had followed almost instantly, trailing behind Steve as he guided him through the compound on an all too familiar route to Tony’s lab.

Entering through the open door, Bucky eyed Tony and Banner momentarily before his eyes flew to the screen in front of him. Many pictures of a young girls face blown up on the screen, a missing child poster and a rendition of one of the photos made to look like what said girl would look like if she was older.

“Y/F/N. Missing since she was 10 years old, kidnapped on her way to school in Voronezh, Russia. Presumed dead. No father, mother died of pneumonia a year after the loss of the child.” Tony reads off his computer, looking cautiously at Bucky before pursing his lips and finalising, “No remaining family.”

Well, they at least had their motive as to why she was specifically kidnapped. No remaining family to mourn for her loss and maintain her case.

All three men watch as Bucky scans the projector a mile a minute. Steve is the first to speak to him, “Recognise her?”

Bucky just nods quickly, eyes never leaving the screen- as if scared she won’t be there if he takes his eyes away, “That’s her.” He confirms. He remembered. Well, he still didn’t know exactly who she was, but he knew it was her, “I-Is there anything else?” He asks Tony, a hint of desperation in his voice that only Steve caught on.

“Nothing on her whereabouts now.” Tony shakes his head, “But with a name and a face, shouldn’t be too hard.”

Whether that meant to infiltrate hundreds of abandoned bases to find information, to travel to Sokovia or Russia and conduct a man hunt by his lonesome, Bucky didn’t care. He didn’t know why, but something inside him ached for him to find her.

To find you.

-

Bucky had since gone off with Steve to do some more intense research on current data they had on Hydra bases they’d raided previously. They didn’t exactly know what they were looking for, anything really though. Anything that hinted to her whereabouts, maybe where she was held, any missions reports she’d been on, testings conducted. Anything.

In the meantime, Tony had continued sifting through the police reports and the missing persons case that had long been closed. There wasn’t much evidence aside from a few statements, possible connections to other missing child’s cases and a few conspiracies but that was it.

So Tony had a bit of work ahead of him. He would have to look through hundreds more reports of missing children’s, then all their evidences, then the timeline, then possible sightings, then location points. It was a lot.

And considering his area of research was Russia, who better to help him than the Russian herself?

She would translate a lot for him, most documents he needed being in Russian and all.

So now, as Natasha sits and scribbles the translation of a document in front of her, Tony stares aimlessly at the projection in front of him still showing the pictures he had shown Bucky early this morning.

“You don’t recognise her at all, do you?” He suddenly asks Natasha, the thought popping into his head intrusively. He figured not otherwise he’s sure she would’ve said something, but just to be safe he thought he’d ask anyway.

Natasha just looks up at him before darting her eyes briefly to the screen, “No.” She shakes her head, glancing up at Tony every so often as she reverts her eyes back to the paper in front of her, “Why?”

Tony just shrugs, “It’s just so strange how similar you too are.” He begins to search on his computer, entering different files before opening up the security footage from the convenience store- replaying and slowing down the clips of the girl fighting. He watches the same extraction about 7 times before turning to Natasha, “You would think, if they’d only had her captive in Hydra that she’d fight more like Bucky.”

Natasha can only blink dumbly and shrug, “I-I don’t know.”

Her weak answer falls on deaf ears as Tony continues to watch the video, focusing on a different part now. It’s silent once again for a while before he speaks, “Maybe when Bucky went down and trained you, she went along too.” He concludes thoughtfully, seemingly proud of his answer.

“Maybe.” Natasha nods.

Tony looks directly at her now, only just noticing her strangely short responses to all of his questions. But as she continues to translate the document in front of her for him, he just shrugs it off, figuring he probably pulled her out of her focus.

Yep. That was definitely the reason.

-

Steve and Bucky hadn’t come up with much. Only one document that had briefly mentioned a female as part of a possible serum test run but said female was only referred to as ‘The Girl’ and other than that had little to no physical descriptors on her appearance or identity.

They did however find other things of particular concern that they would maybe create seperate, unrelated missions for in the near future, so it’s not like their search was completely useless by the end of the night.

But after so many hours of reading what felt like the same group of words over and over, Bucky was glad to be finished for the night. He wasn’t sure where they would go on from there, what Tony had found (if he had found anything), but right now, all he hoped for was to sleep… and hopefully dream about the girl.

And luckily tonight, that’s exactly what he did.

“What’s the first thing you would do if you got out of here?” He asks her, paying no mind to the way her thumb comes up to rest in the indent of his chin. Warmth.

Were they cuddling?

“Burn the place down with everyone inside.” She says simply, softly biting her lip to refrain from smiling as Bucky softly laughs.

He didn’t know he was capable of such emotion… not in there.

He squeezes her shoulder tighter, whispering, “Then what?”

She thinks seriously now, a cute thinking face blessing his vision- again, he didn’t think anything so beautiful was possible to be seen in here.

“Maybe…” She hums quietly, music to his ears. “Maybe touch the grass.”

He just nods softly. Understandable. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen, let alone touch, grass- or any kind of nature for that matter. Unless, of course, concrete and metal counts.

But it’s not the exact answer he’s looking for.

“And then what?” He continues, “Where would you go? If you could go anywhere?”

“Home.” She answers, without a moments hesitation, “But considering they probably blew up my house, then…” She thinks to herself again, smiling softly as a memory fills her mind- one of very few that she’s managed to keep very close to her heart, “My mother took me to Romania a lot, we always stayed at NF Palace in Old City… I would go there. I’d ask to live there.” She explains, looking up at the miserable ceiling above their heads before resting her head back against his chest, “What about you?”

“Home.” He repeats her same answer, “America.”

“How would you get there?”

“Any way I can.” Flashes of Steve, the Commando’s, Rebecca flashed his mind and for a second, Bucky’s conscious mind worried this would turn into some sinister nightmare.

“Take me with you?” She asks softly, voice so small.

Bucky can’t help the heat that he feels upon his cheeks,“What about Romania?”

“Romania wouldn’t have you.” She just shrugs simply, before flashing a familiar smile up at him.

Warm.

Bucky wanted to die the moment he woke up at whatever ungodly hour he didn’t care to check. It was 4am.

He rubbed his eyes so hard he saw stars, almost trying to engrave the dream into his brain somehow. It all felt so real. Her touch, her laugh.

Sliding his hands down his face, he eyed the charging laptop on his bedside table before reaching for it and opening it up on his lap.

Immediate regret shot him in the face as the brightness of his screen blinded him. But he just squinted and carried on. Hurried fingers typed frantically into google, scared if he wasted even a second that he’d forget.

Google Search: NF Palace, Old City Bucharest

He had typed into the search bar, eyes scanning the result that Google had given him.

A 3.6 star hotel in Romania… ‘Permanently Closed.’

Bucky didn’t go back to sleep after his discovery. Surprise, surprise.

No, he’d stayed awake and paced all around his room before doing some more digging on the hotel. Permanently closed yet still standing. Abandoned. Still fully furnished.

He hardly waited for everyone to get settled into their day once it had hit a reasonable time for everyone to wake up. No, he had practically stood at Steve’s door until he came out of the shower and asked if he could call an emergency meeting with Tony.

Which, surprisingly, led to now. A disgruntled Tony and a worried Steve staring at Bucky as he holds his laptop.

“I think I know where she is.” He finally exhales, seemingly releasing a breath he had been bottling up ever since he woke up at 4am.

“What?” Tony yawns, rubbing his eyes as Bucky shoves the laptop in his unsuspecting hands.

“I think she’s here.”

Tony squints and blinks his eyes, adjusting to intrusion of blinding light before coming to his senses. Steve leans over to look as well.

“Romania?” He asks, looking up at Bucky.

Before he can respond, Tony asks tiredly and thoroughly confused, “How would she have gotten out of Sokovia?”

“I don’t know.” Bucky shrugs, “I just feel like she’s there.”

“How-“

“Another dream.” He quickly answers, a little frightened at the possibility that they don’t believe him, “I know it sounds crazy-“

“Okay.” Steve interrupts him, nodding, making Tony turn to him even more confused… it’s too early for this shit, “Okay, we’ll head out tomorrow morning.”

Though Tony was still very confused and… half asleep, he took Steve’s word for it. Anything to get back to bed.

Steve saw the desperation in his best friends eyes. He knew this was obviously important to him, saw how much it was eating away at him despite only being presented with the case two days ago.

Though he didn’t know why this was so important, what the girl had meant to him, or what he remembered, he knew he had to trust Bucky on this one.

-

True to Steve’s word, they had left first thing the next morning. The mission was labeled an emergency and Sam, Natasha and Clint were all called to join Steve, Tony and Bucky on the mission.

No one really complained at the sudden mission, it was nice to get out and travel once in a while and it’s not like they were entering dangerous and violent territory. If all goes to plan, this should be pretty easy. Get in, find the girl, get out.

The flight to Romania was pretty long but nothing they hadn’t dealt with before and it wasn’t long before they were landing in a safe house out in the open fields of countryside Romania.

It was night time when they’d landed so they had all unanimously agreed to begin the search first thing in the morning.

-

The rain was what awoke the team up from their deep slumbers- the jet lag quickly kicking in as their bodies and minds confused each other at the sudden change in time difference and temperature.

It was definitely much colder in Romania.

Doing their best not to look like a threat to the community, they had dressed in usual, winter attire with vests and weapons underneath.

The car that Tony hired coming in handy as they made their 40 minute drive into the city of Bucharest.

Despite the drowsy weather, the city still looked so beautiful.

Bucky had barely taken his eyes off from out the window, somewhat hoping he would miraculously spot the girl walking along the street.

It wasn’t until Tony had pulled up to the destination that Bucky felt the adrenaline kick in.

The front door of the abandoned hotel was dead bolted and chained up, boarded with wooden plans and rusty nails. So they opted for a back entrance.

Slowly and carefully, they each made their way inside the seemingly fragile building. Even from the inside they still felt the strong winds making its way from the outside and there were points in the ceiling where the rain slipped through.

Bucky’s heart picked up when he saw a bucket placed underneath a leak. Sign of life. Inhabitance.

“God, look at this place.” Tony whispered, eyeing the luxurious furniture that still inhabited the building despite its abandonment.

Golds and velvet reds, Persian rugs and chandeliers, painted ceilings of renaissance artwork.

Natasha’s sharp gasp made everyone whip around and reach for their guns, eyes following to where her gaze followed a small group of mice that scurried past her feet.

“Guests are a rowdy bunch.” Tony joked before moving forward.

Every further step they took without so much as a creak in the wood and the squeak of another mouse, Bucky lost an ounce of hope.

“Seems pretty empty.” Tony sighs, “If she was here, she would’ve heard us by now.” Voicing nearly everyone’s thoughts.

A soft, barely audible intake of breath was heard from behind them yet again and they all stopped and turned expectantly to Natasha… who only looked up at them all confused as she hadn’t said or done anything.

Steve flashed his torch behind them, momentarily lighting up the stunned face of a (seemingly) deer in the headlights.

It was Bucky’s turn to gasp now as his eyes landed upon a very familiar face.

Y/N.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

OMGGGGGGG dramaaaaaaaa eeee i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part of this and i’m so excited to continue writing the rest of this story!!

requested taglist: @catleen9 @impoeticbeauty

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james buchanan barnes #bucky angst #bucky smut

[ameliora-j]

sure // rw x reader

words: 1.8k

warnings: smut, overstimulation kinda, finger sucking, size kink if you squint, daddy kink, subspace but not focused, sort of enemies to lovers

a/n: i hate the ending to this i’m not gonna lie but aye first smut

you didn’t really know much. you learned a lot, but you never truly retained the information. after tests and exams, knowledge went just as quickly as it came. however, one thing that you did know. one thing that you were absolutely sure of was that you absolutely despised ron weasley. and nothing in the world could ever change that. you can admit, you did used to have a crush on the redhead... before you found out his true personality of arrogant asshole.

the two of you were in the same friend group, but don’t be mistaken... he was absolutely not your friend. you would first die before ever calling the selfish, pompous, arrogant git your friend. he was so full of himself. you didn’t understand how harry and hermione could be friends with someone like that.

harry and hermione were tired of the two of you constantly bickering and ignoring your—quite obvious, according to them—feelings for each other. and you guess that’s how you wound up in this situation. harry and hermione had taken both you and ron’s wands and locked you in the room of requirement with the threat: “if you two don’t speak to each other and become friends we won’t ever let you out.”

at least they made the room cozy. it was everything you needed, a small room with a bed in the center, and a desk against one of the walls. it was also accompanied with a small en-suite bathroom and water and snacks. you were happily reading in your dorm alone before hermione dragged you here, saying that it was an issue that needed immediate attention.

you had probably been here for about an hour with the redhead, sitting silently and not even looking at each other. finally, you were bored of counting seconds, so you retreated to the desk and opened your book and continued reading where you had left off, still ignoring the tall, muscular redhead laying on the bed.

it was going very well untill you began to see small paper butterflies landing on the desk in front of you. you contained your smile as you watched yet another charmed paper butterfly fly across the room and land in front of you. this caused you to close your book and spin around to face him as you set it on the desk. “did y’need something, weasley?” you asked him.

“they won’t let us out of here unless we talk. and i need to study our playbook for the next quidditch game,” he told you. you hummed softly before turning back around and opening the book again.

“i don’t have anything to say to you. you hate me, you don’t want to be my friend, and i’m okay with never speaking to you again,” you spoke, matter-of-factly as you began reading again.

you heard a deep sigh before ron’s footsteps began coming closer to you. you felt his presence behind you and he put his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. your face heat up as you swallowed thickly and bit your lip nervously. “we both know that’s not true now, is it, princess?” he smirked devilishly.

you don’t know what it was, but something in his eyes made you want to listen to his every word. do whatever he told you to. submit. you nervously shook your head as you struggled to remember exactly how to breathe. he hummed again, keeping his grip on my jaw as he stared down at me. “tell me, princess. how do you really feel?” he raised an eyebrow.

“nervous,” you croaked.

“nervous?” he hummed. “why nervous?”

“you,” you breathed out.

“i make you nervous?” he found great pleasure in this information as he smirked down at you. you nodded again and he removed his grip from you, moving to sit on the desk in front of you. “c’mere,” he beckoned, reaching his hand out.

you nervously took his hand and moved so i was standing in between his legs. his hands moved your hair away from your neck before landing on your hips and tugging you closer to him. you sucked in a gasp as your senses became engulfed with him. “y’very pretty,” he murmured into your ear before placing a soft kiss behind it. “thank you,” you stuttered as you searched for air.

“‘m gonna kiss you now,” he spoke and you nodded your consent. he tangled his hands in your hair and pulled you impossibly closer as he pressed your lips to his. it was already very clear that he was the one in charge, the kiss just solidified that as his tongue licked inside of your mouth and you mewled against his lips. he stood from the desk and lead you backwards to the bed, pushing you gently down on it and crawling over you.

“‘s this your first?” he asked, and you shook your head nervously. “good. cus ‘m not gonna be gentle,” he smirked as he began to leave kisses down your neck. you tugged gently on his shirt, causing him to sit up and pull it off. the two of you undressed each other as you continued making out.

once ron had your pants off, he began kissing down your body. you whimpered and squirmed slightly as he got down to your thighs. “please,” you whimpered breathlessly. he smirked as he pulled off your panties and left a kiss on your clit. you moaned softly, tangling your hands in his hair as he licked up your slit.

“so wet f’me,” he commented as he circled your entrance with his middle finger. “please, want it,” you whined, bucking your hips into him. he shushed you, pushing your hips back down to the mattress as he finally gave you what you want, pushing his middle fingers into you. you moaned as he curled them and quickly found that special spot.

“fuck,” you whimpered as his thumb came up to rub at your clit. “so good,” you whined as he began moving his fingers faster. you whimpered as his free hand reached up to play with your nipple, rolling the rapidly hardening bud between his fingers.

“you gonna cum?” he asked and you nodded, whimpering out a small “please,” making him smirk at how quickly he got you to submit to him.

“go head, princess,” those three words were all you needed. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as stars danced across your vision and your legs shook as you fell into ecstasy. his fingers fucked you through it and his thumb never stopped it’s circles on your clit, even as you came down.

“please, please, please,” you whimpered as you tried to squirm away from it. “one more for me, princess,” ron hummed. you whined softly as you gripped his wrist, letting out small gasps and whimpers as he practically tickled a second orgasm from your already tired body.

“good girl,” he praised as he fucked you through the second release, only pulling away when you whimpered and squirmed away. “open,” he instructed as he brought his fingers up to rest on your bottom lip. you followed his instruction, lolling out your tongue as he pushed his fingers into your mouth, making you clean them off. “y’ready to take me, princess?” he asked.

you nodded with a small whimper of “please.” he ran his tip up your slit, collecting your slick on him before slowly pushing his cock into you, making you moan at the stretch. ron wasn’t your first, but he was definitely the biggest. you were sure he knew that as you saw him smirking down at you as he kept pushing it in. “is that all?” you whimpered after a while.

“almost princess, halfway there,” he whispered as he leaned down and kissed you softly. you whined softly as he pushed in even further, bottoming out as he hit your cervix. you moaned loudly as you arched into him, begging him to move.

he obliged, setting a quick pace as his arm wrapped around your leg, setting it over his shoulder for a better angle. “fuck. so tight,” he grunted in your ear as he rutted into you. you couldn’t contain your moans as the head of his cock repeatedly hit your spot inside of you, making you beg for more.

“daddy,” you shrieked as he moved your other leg over his shoulder, making his cock go that much deeper.

“oh fuck say it again pretty girl,” he moaned as his thumb found your clit, rubbing in time with his thrust.

“daddy please,” you whimpered as you took his free hand and moved it to rest on your throat. he raised an eyebrow as he smirked down at you. “such a dirty little girl,” he hummed as he squeezed gently.

you moaned louder as you arched further into him, whimpering and begging. “shh. take it,” he hummed as he abused your cervix with his cock.

“wanna cum please,” you whined softly as you felt your lower abdomen clench. “please please please,” you whimpered repeatedly as he continued his assault on your cunt.

“hold it,” he demanded. however, he didn’t let up, causing you to whine loudly as you thrashed about the bed, trying not to release the pleasure ron was currently giving your body. “cum with me princess, now,” he hummed.

the third orgasm hit you even harder than the first two. it was unending as ron continued to fuck you through it, every drag of his cock against your walls intensifying it twofold as you cried his name over and over, feeling his hot cum spurt inside of you. you whimpered softly as you came down, looking up at him doe-eyed. “you okay, pretty girl?” he asked softly.

“thank you daddy,” you hummed softly, ignoring his question. he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slowly pulled out. you mewled at the ache in your lower body and hissed as you felt the sheets drag against your swollen, sensitive clit.

“just gonna clean you up, yeah? then we can nap,” he spoke gently as he carried you into the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet, making you go so that you didn’t get a uti before he ran a bath for you. he got in behind you as he gently washed you off, careful of all your sensitive areas as he hummed gently to you, bringing you back down to earth.

“ron?” you asked gently as he wrapped you in a big, fluffy towel. he hummed in acknowledgment and you looked up at him. “what does this make us?” you asked shyly.

“how bout i take you on a date first. and then we’ll decide that. deal princess?” he asked as he lead you back into the room and began to change you.

“okay,” you hummed. he smiled as he pulled on a pair of boxers and got into bed with you, pulling you into his chest.

you didn’t really know much. however, if there was one thing that you were absolutely sure of.. it’s that... maybe you didn’t despise ron weasley.

#ron weasley #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter #harry potter x reader

[s1ater]

interview of the month. louis partridge x reader

summary 📣: in which reader and louis have a strong passion of hatred for each other- despite the two of them being bestfriends

warning/s 🚫: swearing, starts out strong but dies half assed

slater’s note 🗯: i’m obsessed with making interview type imagines 😭 also this is TRASH because i gave up halfway in the end

how’d the two of you meet?

you glanced to louis as he continued to read the question. you pressed your lips into a thin line, thinking of the first time you had ever encountered the boy right next to you.

“uhm, this dumbass crashed into me at the skate park,” you jerked your thumb to louis who begun to shake his head, “he’s trash at it.”

“you always tell this story wrong,” his head still shook while he tugged at his bottom lip, “see because we met in brooklyn and you spilled your coffee all over me.”

“no because we met in london,” you begun to think it through, wondering whether if either of you actually remembered when you both truly met. “that skate park was in london and i spilt coffee on you a whole entirely different time.”

“we never met in a skate park.”

“yes, we did,” you argued, giving him a pointed look, “i know we did because i still have a scar from your board.”

“no, no, no, you got that scar from a different time, when we were with my sister,” he pushed back against your statement, his head shaking again.

“well that’s a different scar.”

“what are these scars? pull them out then.”

your face twisted up, leaning forward in slight confusion as louis had his hand pointing toward your leg, where he very much knew where there were scars from your true first meeting.

it was then did his face tell you that you were right all along, the two of you did meet at a skate park, he just didn’t like being wrong.

and when he was wrong, he hated admitting so.

your face expanded at the cheeks into a smile that came with an accusing pointer finger, directed towards the boy, “i’m right.”

“what?” he scoffed, a guilty opened mouth smile spreading across his face, “no, you’re not.”

“please, you’re a horrible liar, louis.”

“shut it.”

what’s your favorite activity to do when together?

you rolled your eyes, recovering from the last question before squinting them, trying to get a better look at the screen before the two of you.

“she needs glasses,” louis says suddenly, his eyes crinkling together as he looked to the crew behind the camera, “that’s why i’m a faster reader.”

you rolled your eyes again, shooing his comment off, “i’d say hanging with his sister because i don’t actually like hanging out with louis.”

“no, she actually loves hanging out with me because i can drive her around and she can’t,” he looked over to you, your eyes immediately meeting his as you watched his plan unfold in his pupils just as it came out of his mouth, “she’s failed her last two drivers test.”

he held up his fingers making a two in the air causing you to grab onto his wrist, forcing his hand back down to stop embarrassing you, your cheeks starting to burn. that only made his smile increase, as he looked to you.

he looped his pinky finger with yours just as you were letting go of his hand, now settled out of the camera visual. you looked up at him as he still stared at you with the cockiest smile.

you shook your head, “i only fail because this dipshit thinks it’s funny to call only to patronize and terrorize me each time before i take the test.”

he shakes his head in return, as if he had no idea what you were talking about, like you were lying. it made you want to strangle him as he stared back at you with his taunting stare, a smirk sewn in his features as he knew you wouldn’t say anything else- even as he himself hadn’t said anything. 

sometimes you think louis did it on purpose because he liked driving you around.

“i swear to god, i’ll punch you in the jaw.”

what is your favorite quality of one another?

“y/n’s actually really funny and i enjoy being around her,” it flowed out of his mouth so effortlessly like a perfect lie. that’s what it seemed like, a lie.

there was no way louis was going to compliment you without a struggle. he would usually pop out a few jokes before getting down to the basis of an actual answer. 

that’s why you stared up at him, completely dumbfounded with a mix of disgust, “shut your trap louis partridge.” 

“woah,” he laughed before looking into the camera, “she’s never been good at accepting compliments though.” “louis, shut your mouth, when have you ever complimented me?” “all the time!” “you're a horrible liar!” you scoffed, hitting his arm lightly, “i can see it in your eyes that you know what i know and that’s that you don’t ever compliment people and you absolutely suck at it when you do so.” 

“i don't know what you mean,” his voice came out strangled from the laugh that he forced out with it. he knew you were being truthful and it made him awkward, due to not wanting to admit that he sucked with being empathetic. 

“whatever, compliment me now,” he shook his head after awhile, “what’s your favorite quality about me, dear?” you bit your lip, turning your head from his as you thought of something nice to say about him, something you liked about him, “hold on let me think.”

“you got no time, miss, hurry this up.” “jesus, give me a moment, lou.”

you tapped your finger against your lip frantically before spitting out the first thing that came to mind, “you have nice... hair?”

“i’ll take that. although i’m quite offended that’s all you could think of.”

“what do you mean, your answer wasn’t even genuine.”

he rolled his eyes, “just accept the compliment and tell me i’m a good boyfriend.”

“a good boyfriend?” you almost gasped as if struck stupid by that word.

“darling, you know i’m a good boyfriend, you just don’t want the world to know it because they’ll be all over me even more than ever.”

what’s your favorite activity to do when together?

“this question again?” louis groaned, tilting his head to the side making you lowly laugh. 

“well we never really answered it.” 

“that is not my fault.” 

“it’s not mine.” “shut it, we like to watch movies together i suppose.” 

you narrowed your brows at his answer, crooking your head towards his direction, “louis, we’ve watched a movie once together and it ended with you whining because you were bored.”

“well, they didn’t say anything about lying,” he shrugged, “and i did quite enjoy my time with you then.” 

could you see each other living together in near future? 

“no, i’d cut his head off within the first hour.”

“surprised i’d even last that long.”

masterlist

taglist 🗞:

join the taglist if you haven’t :)

@w0nderr @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @alexmercer-reginaldpeters

#millie bobby brown #louis partridge #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge imagine #lord tewkesbury #lord tewksbury #viscount tewkesbury marquess of basilwether #tewkesbury x reader #enola x tewksbury #enola holmes #louis patridge icons #viscount tewksbury #stranger things #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction

[skinnyducky]

good in bed // v.h.

Hey...how y’all doing? I have halfway recovered from my wisdom teeth surgery and I definitely was feeling a bit sad not posting and whatnot. But, here I am now, so I hope you enjoy this one. Pt. 3 to Party at Y/n’s is most likely coming Monday. And, Pt. 2 to Maneater is coming Wednesday (hopefully). Any who, hope you enjoy! Also, this is very much inspired by Dula Peep’s “Good in Bed.”

Word Count: 1336, edited 

WARNING: mentions of sex, arguing, angst, language, and i think that’s it.

---------

The start of yours and Vinnie’s relationship was like ice cream on hot summer day. It was sweet, it was refreshing, and it was much needed. After being cheated on by your ex, you needed to find something to bring the love back…and that’s exactly what Vinnie did. The two of you had met after accidentally buying the same car. You bickered and fought over the vintage vehicle before he ultimately decided to let you keep it…but only if you gave him your number. You happily did so and long story short, that led to a beautiful relationship…or at least what was a beautiful relationship.

As the relationship went on, you found that the so-called “honeymoon phase” was really just a phase. For you and Vinnie, it lasted for a least a good two weeks. What started as late night conversations before bed shifted into heated debates and hate-filled goodnights. The butterflies that fluttered around had died, and now your stomach was overflowed with enraged hornets. You didn’t know what was the cause of your downfall, and you weren’t even sure that there was anything that could fix it.

Well…you knew one thing that definitely fixed it: sex. The term “angry sex” seemed like a myth. You thought people were just overhyping it…until you were actually living it. You remember the first time it happened; you were pissed that he didn’t show up to dinner with your parents, while he was pissed because you hadn’t stopped yelling at him for a good hour. The two of you argued for hours, and as an attempt to get you to stop, Vinnie grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto his bed. It was silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing from both of you. Next thing you know, the two of you are going at it.

Ever since then, that’s all you two did: fight and screw, then pretend like nothing ever happened. As nice as the sex was, it just was too toxic for you. You didn’t want to be stuck in an endless cycle and having to resort to sex to solve your problems. And also, you wanted Vinnie to know you for more than just your body. With that being said, you figured the solution to that was to communicate. Something you two did none of.

So, here you were in Vinnie’s room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to finish streaming. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You didn’t know how to talk about your feelings, it was completely foreign to you. Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

“…I love you guys, bye chat.”

Vinnie stopped streaming and turned around in his seat to face you. You pursed his lips and started fiddling with his thumbs. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“I think you know.” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Is this the talk? You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at the boy’s stupidity. “No, Vinnie…I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“I promise, I’m not. I just wanna try to communicate, y’know. Like other couples do.”

He shrugged. “Don’t we already do that?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call our exploration of each other’s bodies ‘communicating.’ Besides, you and I both know that our relationship isn’t the same as before. It’s like we’ve grown cold towards each other or something.”

“Is this because I forgot our anniversary?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You gave him a puzzled look for a minute, trying to figure out when your anniversary actually was. Had you forgot too? Damn, this relationship really was trash.

“Uhm, no…this isn’t about that. Although, we really need to mark our anniversary on our calendars.”

“Then what’s this about, Y/n?”

You sighed and stood up from your spot on his bed. You paced in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Vinnie…I’m tired. I’m tired of always arguing and then having angry sex…which is amazing, by the way.”

He squinted his eyes at you as he thought about what you said. “So…are you mad about the arguing or the sex?”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” you groaned. “I’m mad about all of it, Vin. I’m mad that we just can’t talk to each other. I’m mad that when we do have time together, we spend it arguing. I’m mad that the only way for us to enjoy each other’s company is to have sex. I’m just tired of it all.”

“Then, let’s just end the relationship.”

You stopped your pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “I just told you I didn’t wanna break up.”

Vinnie chuckled, “I know that Y/n, but if you’re really feeling that way…then just leave.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. You actually want to just break up? Aren’t you going to at least talk to me about what you’re feeling? Aren’t you gonna fight for us?”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling, Y/n?” Vinnie asked. You nodded, egging him to continue. “I’m feeling…very hungry right now. I want a fat burger and a fat fry with a fat shake to go along with it. That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. And if the relationship is already going to hell…why fight for it? I say let it die.”

He then proceeded to hop out of his seat and dance around his room, chanting “let it die, let it die…let it shrivel up and die” while clapping.

You just stood there with nothing to say. You couldn’t believe that he was taking this all as a joke. You just poured your entire heart to him, trying to fix your relationship, and he’s sitting here quoting The Lorax and acting like a child. At this point, you were sure that there was no hope for the two of you and you were fine with that. You weren’t going to be driven mad by this anymore.

“You’re a fucking joke.” You growled, picking up your keys off his bed. “Y’know, I wish we hadn’t met each other because I’d be way better off if I didn’t even know you.”

“That’s not saying a lot, babe. You’d probably still be with the same dickhead who cheated on you.”

You scoffed, feeling the hornets in your stomach get their stingers ready. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying I made your life better. You wouldn’t be who you are today if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d be stuck in here, playing video games and withering away if I hadn’t come along.”

Vinnie huffed, holding back a laugh. “At least I don’t have to deal with video games nagging at me all the time.”

“Jerk!” you yelled, rushing to his door. You stood in the doorway, turning around to look back at him. “I never want to see you again, you hear me? NEVER again, Vincent. You’re dead to me.”

Slamming the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway of the Hype House. But before you could go any further, something stopped you. A feeling of sadness washed over you and your anger subsided. The hornets that once threatened to pour out of you had now calmed down. At that moment, you felt your body tremble as sin known as lust flowed through your veins. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself from rushing back into Vinnie’s room and pouncing on him…but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

“Screw it,” you whispered.

You turned around and darted towards Vinnie’s room. Bursting through the door, you tackled him onto the bed and well…you know the rest. You knew going through this all over again was bad, that it was causing more damage to your relationship. It was definitely sad…but that’s what made you good in bed.

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker imagine

[solarwonux]

84.  “I can tell you’re stressed, let me fix that.”

roomate!junkook x f!reader

genre: smut

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, fwb, Jungkook and his tattoos, tattooartist!jungkook, dom!jungkook if you squint, spiting, cum eating, oral sex (m receiving), a brief mention of voyeurism, briefly edited, also Jungkook is kind off fluffy, this couple is weird af y’all. 

note: hello, Idk what I did but I’ve done it lol. This is also a drabble that will eventually be part of a bigger story that I have half outlines lol, so I hope you enjoy this preview. I hope you like it please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

Fourth time’s the charm.

Jungkook thought as he made his way to the front door of the tattoo shop. He pulled on the handle rather harshly making sure it was closed. Last week he had forgotten to lock the door, resulting in a drunk stranger walking in demanding a tattoo. Thankfully, the stranger’s intrusion triggered the security alarm, waking Jungkook in a fright. He ran down the steps of his apartment - the one located above the shop, half naked, carrying the bat you and him kept by the front door, his heart pounding against his chest. 

To say the least he was terrified. Scared that something would happen to the expensive tattooing equipment. Scared that Yoongi would fire him and therefore kick him out of the apartment, scared of something happening to you. His nerves subsided when he found the drunk stranger, passed out on the couch in the waiting room. 

The equipment, his job and you were all safe. 

Ever since then he had made it his mission, even writing it down on a highlighter yellow sticky note as a reminder; to check not once but four times if the front door was locked.

Jungkook sighed, giving the door one last pull, making it rattle against the locks, before deeming it locked. A fifth time wouldn’t hurt. 

He turns around, walking past the waiting room and the reception desk. He does one last look over, mumbling underneath his breath, checking to see if he had done everything he needed to do on his to-do list before turning off the lights. Quickly, he pushed aside the colorful paint splattered curtain that hid the front door to his apartment to the general public. He pressed in the code, waiting for the lock to click, going over the appointments or lack there off he had the following day. 

As of late, Jungkook, Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok hadn’t had many clients come into the shop or request an appointment via instagram. He blames the rival shop that opened a few blocks away, and their stupid flash event, where they tattooed people for free. Of course they weren’t intricate pieces, small basic ones that you would pick out from the generic tattoo binder. But it still caused a dent in their clientele. 

That night you came home after work to find the four tattooists, on the couch, shooting glares at the shop door, with a large bottle of whisky in between them, and their man-size ego down in the slumps. The solution was simple, at least it was in your head. 

“Hold an event like theirs, maybe shirtless. I’ve only seen Jungkook’s abs because he loves walking around the apartment half naked but I’m sure you guys have a promising pair.” You suggested with a shrug, earning groans and complaints from the four artists on the couch. 

Yoongi stood up first, holding a hand out as an attempt to regain his balance from the sudden movement. “I’m not degrading myself or my art for clients. I’m also not giving away my talent for free.” He slurred, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction, “and my abs are better than Kooks.” 

“Alright, it was just a suggestion.” You held your hands up in defeat, taking a step back. “I’m going to bed, enjoy your pity party.” You smiled at them before making your way to the front door and disappearing. 

In hindsight, maybe you were right. Except for the half naked part, that’s dangerous and goes against all tattoo etiquette. But maybe holding a flash event and offering tattoo’s half off was not a bad idea. It would surely bring back their clients and make way for new ones. He would have to bring it up to his coworkers tonight when they came over.

Jungkook sighed, stopping at the top of the stairs facing the final door that led to his living room. He could hear the loud poppy music you were playing behind the door. Living with you wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be when Yoongi first offered you the vacant room. You were clean, organized and relatively respectful of personal space, but he hated your music. It was generic and just way too bouncy and happy, it was a good thing you gave a great head, if not he would’ve begged Yoongi to kick you out long ago. Before he got attached.

He wasn’t a dick he just thought with his dick ninety nine percent of the time and right now it was very much needing a stress release. Jungkook punched in the final code and opened his front door, revealing you in nothing but a tight pair of leggings and a sports bra, sweat droplets running down your body as you followed along with the exercise video on youtube. You looked very much like you would look after the two of you finished fucking and it made his cock stir in his jeans.

“Did you lock the door?” You said in between breaths, squatting down, finishing your last rep of squats. Jungkook bit his bottom lip, nodding in response. His hands were down by his sides, itching to squeeze your ass, to pull you against him and take you on the couch. It wouldn’t be out of pocket either. He knew you would give in the second he gave you that lust filled look of his. The one that was desperate and needy and practically begging for your touch.

You stopped pausing the video and turned to look at him, hands on your hips, chest heaving in a poor attempt to catch your breath. Jungkook knew he was fucked. “Are you sure you locked the door?” 

“Yes I checked five times tonight, have you had dinner?” He blinked rapidly, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans hiding his hardening cock as best as he could.

“An hour ago.” You reassured, unpausing the workout video and positioning yourself in downward dog. 

Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths following your haggard ones and counted to ten. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed you. Needed your mouth around him until he was painting the back of your throat white. Counting to ten once wasn’t enough to calm him down. It wasn’t until he was halfway through his third recount that he felt your arms circle around his waist, a faint kiss left underneath his earlobe, that he knew he was done for. 

“I can tell you’re stressed, let me fix that.” You whisper leaving opening mouthed kisses down his neck tonguing the spot between his clavicle and neck. Jungkook’s eyes opened wide, his lips parting in an inaudible sigh. 

“Fuck baby please.” He caved, taking your head in his hands and pushing you away before leaning down and capturing your lips with his, in a wet, messy and needy kiss. He didn’t care that your lips were salty due to the sweat, they felt like heaven against his. 

You moaned into the kiss feeling the wet muscle of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip asking for access, in which you so rightfully gave him. His hand left your cheek and traveled down your neck until it was groping your boob through your thin sports bra. You pulled away to catch your breath for a few seconds, whimpering as his palm worked against your hardened nipple diligently before kissing him again, teeth clattering against one another. 

He pulled away pushing your sports bra up releasing your boobs, his index fingers and thumbs pinching your nipples and pulling on them gently. “Jungkook, w-what do you want?” You moan, closing your eyes as he rolled your nipples between his sweaty palms. Not only did Jungkook love touching your ass, he also loved playing with your boobs, claiming they were the best pair of boobs he had ever seen in his entire twenty six years of life. 

“Get on your knees baby girl, want to see your lips wrapped around me.” He mumbles against the crown of your head while he continues to knead at your boobs. 

You nod kissing the outline of the tattoo that was peeking against the neck of his white t-shirt. You send him a wink. A deep hum leaves his lips as you slowly kissed your way down his clothed chest, until you were face to face with his jean cladded bulge. You looked beautiful, your eyes glossy with need and your mouth watering as you couldn’t wait for the weight of his cock against your tongue.

He puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes your face against his jeans, he was so hard he could feel himself pulsing with need. It didn’t help that your fingers were walking up his thighs at an agonizing pace, while your mouth was now kissing him through the fabric, satisfied hums leaving your lips. “You’re so fucking hard Kook.” You pull away finally unbuttoning his jeans, your fingers brushing against him while you unzip his pants slowly.

“You’re such a tease baby girl, almost makes me think that you want to get punished tonight.” He tilts his head, pushing his hips into your hands as you palmed him over his boxers, while your other hand pushes his jeans down, leaving him in only his t-shirt and black boxers. 

You look up at him smirking, leaning in to kiss the tattoo decorating his thigh. You had gotten off on it many times before, it was your favorite pastime when you were needy and bored. “Maybe I do, take your shirt off.” You demanded, biting down on his skin making him jump. 

He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks making you face him, “Be careful I’m not feeling very nice today.” The sinister look behind his eyes makes you shudder, “open your mouth,” You smile, parting your lips sticking your tongue out before Jungkook leans over, a glob of spit hitting your tongue making you moan in delight. “What do you say?” His grip on your cheeks is hard. 

“Thank you sir.” You mewl, hooking your thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, wasting no time in freeing him. His cock was pretty, you had once told him that and it made him double over in laughter. No one had ever called his cock beautiful. Maybe big but never beautiful but you were a character and he should’ve expected a comment like that from you. 

“Good girl, now go on, this is all you’re getting tonight so you better enjoy it.” He wraps his hand around himself, spitting down onto his length using it to lube himself up before guiding it to your slightly parted lips. He knew you loved to watch him touch himself, sometimes if you weren’t home and he was needy he would sit on the couch fucking his hand knowing you would walk at any minute and help him finish the job. Or sit in front of him on the coffee table, legs spread wide touching yourself, moaning his name like his fingers were inside of you instead of yours. If Yoongi knew the dirty escapades that happened behind the walls of the apartment above his tattoo shop he would never step foot inside again. Thankfully he didn’t know, yet. 

You stick your tongue out and lick his head, rolling your nipples against the palm of your hands. The sight was award winning and Jungkook wanted to so badly get his camera out and capture the moment. To add to your shared collection. “So fucking sexy baby girl, always so good for me.” He tapped the head of his cock against your tongue before you close your lips around him, running your tongue underneath the head of his cock. 

Jungkook’s hand came behind your head, guiding you further down his cock sending a thrum of arousal up his spine. You hollow out your cheeks looking up at him with watering eyes. He moans, gripping your ponytail, giving you an experimental thrust making you gag around him. It sounded like the beginning of a beautiful melody, not the ones that belonged to your shitty pop music but the one that would keep you up at night lost in thought. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” He thrusts again, while you tug on the hem of his shirt. “Want to see me, look at my tattoos while I fuck your mouth?” He grunts, quickly discarding his shirt once he hears the needy moan that escapes your cock filled mouth. He knew his tattoos were your ultimate turn on. The reason you had gotten on your knees before him the first time after living together for a full year. He couldn’t say no, not when the only thought running through his mind was the stain your red lipstick would leave behind on his cock. 

Calm him a douchebag or compare him to a hormonal filled teenager, he didn’t care. He was a man after all. One that hadn’t had sex in two years after his last girlfriend cheated on him with his brother. 

Frankly, he needed an ego boost and you were there to give it to him, so he caved.

You pull off of him breathing heavily, a thread of saliva connects your lips to the head of your cock as you try to catch your breath. The sight was anything but underwhelming and enough to make him cum, but Jungkook hated his cum going to waste. He was healthy and young and it should go to good use.

 “I-I want you to use my mouth, please.” You croak before dragging your tongue up and down his shaft. “Want you to cum in my mouth sir.” Mumbling, you tease his head with the tip of your tongue making him groan. 

“Such a dirty mouth, it's a good thing I’m making good use out of it.” He says, a cocky smirk evident on his face. You nod happily, humming with please as you take him into your mouth again, sinking further, hollowing your cheeks moaning around him as you watch his face scrunch up in pleasure. His abs contract as he tries to control himself, at least until you give him the go ahead. And you do with a slight tap of your fingers against his thighs. 

He growls, thrusting his hips into your mouth, guiding your head up and down, gagging around him. His cock feels hot and heavy against your tongue, making both of you moan simultaneously. “Always letting me use you, what would our friends say if they walked in. You know I invited them over for drinks, right?” 

You whimper around him, closing your eyes at the thought of getting caught with him, balls deep down your throat. You hated that he had caught onto your slight voyeurism kink as it was only a matter of time where he threw all tattoo etiquette he knew and lived by out on the window and fucked you in his workshop, with only a thin curtain separating you and the rest of the shop. 

His thrusts get more desperate. His orgasm was approaching quickly as he twitched inside of your mouth. You dig your nails into his thighs, creating crescent moons as you feel your lungs start to give out. He mutters a low fuck followed by a quick apology before he pulls away. You gasp resting your hand against your chest, your eyes are filled with tears, bubbles of saliva painting your chin. Jungkook swears he’s never seen a sight as beautiful as this one and once again he’s cursing himself for not giving himself enough time to grab his camera. 

“Can you go more or do you need a break?” He whispers, eyes filled with concern while he caresses your cheek with his thumb. 

You shake your head, “Just give me time to regain my breath.” With a soft smile you leave a chaste kiss against the tattoo decorating his hip. It was part of a bigger piece, one that adorned the entire right side of his body, but nevertheless for some odd reason it was your favorite one. 

Jungkook nods, wrapping his hand around himself, muffled curses escaping his beautiful lips. “I’m so close, baby girl, just let me cum on your face.” He all but begs, gripping his cock tightly and thrusting his hips into his hand. 

You pout, a sound of protest leaves your swollen lips making Jungkook roll his eyes. “You can blow me again later, open your mouth baby.” He tucks his lips in between his lips, hips casting into his hand desperately. The pool between your legs grows, overflowing as you watch the mesmerizing sight in front of you. God, he was so fucking sexy. 

You open your mouth sticking your tongue. Jungkook throws his head back moaning your name in a sweet incantation, ropes of cum hitting your tongue and cheeks, while you moan along with him. 

Jungkook opens his eyes, riding out his orgasm, painting your chin watching as you drag your tongue into your mouth swallowing his salty substance, humming in satisfaction. “J-Jungkook.” The needy way you say his name makes his cock twitch and he has to keep himself from getting hard again. 

“You look so pretty baby girl, so fucked out and pretty, only for me.” He whispers, collecting the cum that was dripping down your chin with his thumb before bringing it up your lips, coating them. “So filthy too, thank you baby.” He leans down, running his tongue against your cheek collecting his cum before kissing you slowly and sensually, pushing his tongue inside of your mouth, coating the inside with his cum. 

Jungkook hates his cum going to waste. You whimper, snaking your arms around his neck pulling him closer, sucking on his tongue. He grins against your lips and moves away, chuckling as you continue to chase his lips with yours. “I need you Kookie.” You sigh, a pout forming on your swollen lips. “Please just fuck me, use me. I don’t care anymore.” You let out a sob, your pussy throbbing begging to be touched. 

He helps you up, circling his arms around your waist, nosing your hair as he sighs. He wants to give him, lead you to the couch, but the guys were going to be here at any minute and he couldn’t have time to please you the way he wanted to. 

“Let’s go shower, I promise the second the guys leave I’ll eat you out like a starved man.” He suggests, leaving a light kiss against your forehead. He didn’t feel as stressed as he was earlier, but that’s all thanks to you and how easy it was for him to get lost in your world.

“Is that a promise?” You tilt your head curiously, toying with the hair resting against the back of his neck.  

“I always keep promises, baby girl.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios

[husbandohunter]

May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty

By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact

Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.

(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)

(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.

============================

Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.

The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.

While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.

And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?

"Hey babe, I'm home~"

In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...

"That's great."

He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.

Huh?

All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.

"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."

It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.

"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"

"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."

His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"

Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."

Today was not his day.

Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.

"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.

The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....

Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.

Not even the dishes were washed.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."

Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.

"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."

"I'm busy."

Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.

Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."

Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"

"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."

You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."

"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."

"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."

Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."

It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.

"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"

Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.

"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"

Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.

"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."

Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.

I should probably visit more often.

Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.

"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."

He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.

"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."

"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."

You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.

"Cheater," you mumbled.

He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."

Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"

You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.

Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."

Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.

If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?

Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.

Maybe one day.

He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.

One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.

Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 25

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 25 - This Venerable One Hates Him So Much!

Chu Wanning couldn't force a "go away" to leave his throat. There was a long sombre pause before he changed his answer to: "Come in."

"Huh? Your door isn't locked?" They had been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But now, Mo Ran had the intention of reconciling with him, so he pushed open the door as he spoke like nothing had ever happened. Chu Wanning, on the other hand, sat expressionlessly at the table. He raised his eyes and glanced at him faintly.

In all fairness, Mo Ran was incredibly beautiful, and the whole room seemed to brighten as soon as he walked in the door. He was indeed very young. His skin was tight and seemed to exude a faint glow. The corners of his mouth were naturally slightly curled, and he seemed to be smiling even when he wasn't showing any emotion.

Chu Wanning didn't move his eyes off of Mo Ran. His slender eyelashes drooped and raised his hand to pinch out the incense burning on the table. He coldly asked:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came. . . to check your injury." Mo Ran awkwardly coughed. His eyes fell on Chu Wanning's shoulder and he froze. "You dressed it already?"

Chu Wanning faintly said: "Yes."

Mo Ran didn't know what to say: ". . ."

He really hated Chu Wanning, and he was furious that Chu Wanning had hurt Shi Mei. But, after calming down, Mo Ran wasn't completely without a conscience. Yeah, he hated him, but he didn't forget that Chu Wanning's shoulder was injured.

In the claustrophobic coffin, Chu Wanning had tightly guarded him in his arms, blocking the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws with his own body. His body had trembled in pain but he didn't let go. . .

To Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was disgusting.

But in addition to disgust, some very complicated emotions were always mixed in with it for some reason.

He was a rude person. He didn't read books when he was a child. Although he obtained some literary knowledge later, he still couldn't grasp many concepts easily when it came to many delicate things, especially when it came to feelings.

For example, when it came to Chu Wanning, Mo Ran rubbed his head and pondered. The back of his head was going to go bald, but he still couldn't figure out what this feeling was.

He can only identify certain kinds of feelings: love, hate, detest, happiness and unhappiness.

If all these emotions were mixed together, the wise and powerful cultivation emperor would get crossed-eyed and really dizzy.

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know. Help, my head hurts.

So Mo Ran didn't bother to dwell on it. Besides, he didn't have time to focus on any details other than Shi Mei.

He didn't hold good feelings for Chu Wanning in his heart, and while secretly plotting when he might have an opportunity in the future, he would make him pay with double the ferocity. On the other hand, he felt guilty. After an internal battle with himself, he finally knocked on Chu Wanning's door.

He didn't want to owe Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning was more stubborn and ruthless than he thought.

Mo Ran stared at the pile of blood-stained cotton gauze on the table, the bowl of hot water stained red with blood, and the sharp knife that was thrown haphazardly thrown aside. The tip of the knife was still coated with flesh and blood. His head was spinning.

How did he manage to heal himself?

Had he really cut off the festering flesh without so much as blinking? Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Was this guy even human?

He thought about when he had cleaned up Shi Mei's wound. Shi Mei had groaned softly in pain with tears in the corners of his eyes. Even though Mo Ran didn’t like Chu Wanning, he couldn’t help but silently give him credit——

Elder Yuheng was truly a domineering and righteous man, no arguments there.

After standing in place for a while, Mo Ran was the first to break the silence. He coughed, tapping his toes against the floor, and awkwardly said: "What happened in the Chen house. . . Shizun, I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't say anything.

Mo Ran stole a glance at him: "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Chu Wanning still ignored him. His face was still. As always, he had no reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't aggravated and just not saying anything.

Mo Ran walked over. When he got closer, he saw the mess of bandages on Chu Wanning's shoulder. The cotton gauze was tied in several different ways. It looked like a group of crabs that were stuck together.

". . ."

Also, for a person who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes, can he really be trusted to treat himself?

Mo Ran sighed: "Shizun, don't be angry."

"Do I look angry?" Chu Wanning angrily responded.

Mo Ran: ". ."

After a long pause.

"Shizun, that's not how you wrap a bandage. . ."

He retorted unceremoniously: "You want you to teach me?"

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He raised his hand. He wanted to help Chu Wanning untie the gauze and wrap it again, but he was observant and felt that if he dared to touch him, he might end up with a lashing, so he hesitated.

He raised his hand then lowered it, and then raised it again, repeating the action several times. Chu Wanning was getting annoyed. He squinted at him: "What are you doing? Do you still want to fight me?"

". . ." He really wanted to fight him, but now wasn't a good time.

Mo Ran smiled sheepishly. Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly reached over and grabbed his shoulders, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth: "Shizun, let me help you re-bandage it."

Chu Wanning wanted to refuse, but Mo Ran's warm fingers had already wrapped around the bandage. His mouth felt dry and stiff. He couldn't speak, so his lips moved slightly but nothing came out.

The gauze was peeled off layer by layer. Blood had soaked through it, and when it was all torn back, the five holes were piercingly obvious and hideous.

Just looking at it, he shuddered. It was many times more serious than the would on Shi Mei's face.

Mo Ran didn't know what he was looking at. He was stunned, then suddenly asked softly: "Does it hurt?"

Chu Wanning lowered his long and slender eyelashes, and simply said lightly: "It's fine."

Mo Ran said: "I'll be gentle."

Chu Wanning didn't know what he was thinking, and suddenly his ear flushed a little red. As a result, he got angry with himself again. He thought he was going crazy. All day he had been thinking up such nonsensical thoughts. His expression grew stiff. His temper worsened, and he said dryly, "It's up to you."

The candlelight in the guest room flickered. In the dim light, he could see that he had completely missed some spots with the ointment. Mo Ran was honestly speechless. He thought it was a miracle that Chu Wanning was still alive and healthy today.

"Shizun."

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you today at the Chen house? Why did you suddenly lash out and hit someone?" He asked while applying some ointment.

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, then replied: "I was angry."

Mo Ran asked: "Why were you so angry?"

Chu Wanning didn't want to trouble his disciple, so he told Mo Ran a brief and concise version of Luo Xianxian's story. After Mo Ran listened to the story, he shook his head: "You're stupid. In this kind of situation, even if you're angry, you shouldn't confront them about it to their face. If it were me, I would've made a mess of things and lie to them that the ghost had been removed, and then pat their asses and leave, letting them fend for themselves. Just look at you making a scene over such a rotten man. You knew you probably wouldn't get through to him, and then you missed and wounded Shi Mei--"

Halfway through the sentence, Mo Ran abruptly stopped. He stared silently at Chu Wanning.

He tied the bandage carefully. He was a little forgetful and he was talking to Chu Wanning like he had when he was 32, pretty cheekily.

Chu Wanning obviously noticed. He squinted his eyes, looking coldly at Mo Ran. That look resembled a very familiar phrase - "See if I don't whip you to death."

"Uh. . ."

Before his brain had thought up a response, Chu Wanning has already begun speaking.

He said indifferently: "Is Shi Mingjing the one I wanted to fight?"

When Shi Mei was mentioned, Mo Ran's originally calm mental state started to shift and his tone hardened: "Isn't he the person you hit?"

Chu Wanning did regret hitting him, but he couldn't admit it. At this moment, his face was sullen and he didn't say a word.

Chu Wanning was the stubborn type. Mo Ran was the lovesick type. Their eyes meet and sparks crackled. The atmosphere that had just eased a little became hopelessly stagnant again.

Mo Ran said: "Shi Mei didn't do anything wrong. Shizun, you hurt him by accident. Don't you want to say that you're sorry?"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes dangerously: "Are you questioning me?"

". . . I'm not." Mo Ran paused. "I just feel bad that he got hurt but never got an apology from Shizun."

Under the candlelight, the handsome and youthful teenager finished wrapping the last bandage on Chu Wanning's wound and carefully tied a knot. It may have looked like the scene was quite warm, but the mood between them had changed. Especially Chu Wanning; his chest felt like a jar of vinegar had exploded in it. The feeling of sourness was overwhelming and he felt angry and annoyed.

Apologize?

How do you even spell that word? Who'll teach him how to write?

Mo Ran said: "It'll take half a year for the wound on his face to heal. When I gave him some medicine just now, he still told me not to blame you. Shizun, he doesn't blame you, but do you think that justifies what you did?"

This sentence was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

Chu Wanning had been enduring it but he finally couldn't hold it back. He suppressed his voice and muttered: "Get out."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Chu Wanning exploded: "Get out!"

Mo Ran was forced out and the door slammed shut in his face, almost clamping his fingers. Mo Ran was furious. Just look at this! What kind of person was this? All this just to avoid apologizing? Such cherished and treasured pride. What was so difficult about saying sorry? All he needs to do is move his mouth. This Venerable One was the Emperor TaXian, yet this Venerable One didn't hesitate to apologize to others. As for the Beidou Immortal, half of his words were inexplicable, as if he had swallowed them. What a ridiculous temper!

No wonder no one cared about such a handsome face!

It was a waste of time. He deserved to stay single for the rest of his life!

Since Chu Wanning would rather ignore him and give him a closed-door to talk to, then of course the high and mighty cultivation emperor, the emperor of the human world, wouldn't lose any sleep over this. Although he was tenacious and as hard to get rid of as a piece of sticky candy, he stuck to Shi Mei, not his shizun.

He immediately left without a care and went to join Shi Mei.

"Why are you back so soon?" Shi Mei was in the midst of lying down to rest when he saw Mo Yan come in. He froze and sat up, long strands of ink hair hanging all over the place. "How's Shizun?"

"Very good. His temper is as strong as usual."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Mo Ran brought over a chair and sat on it backwards. His hand rested on the back of the Taishi chair, a lazy smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked across the appearance of Shi Mei's soft and long hair.

Shi Mei said: "Why don't I go and see him. . ."

"Don't think too much about it." Mo Ran rolled his eyes. "He's terrible."

"Did you make him angry again?"

"He needs someone to provoke him? He makes himself angry. I think he's made of wood considering he's so flammable."

Shi Mei shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Mo Ran said: "Get some rest. I'll borrow the kitchen downstairs and make you some food."

Shi Mei said: "What's the fuss? You haven't closed your eyes all night. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Haha, I am in good spirits." Mo Ran laughed. "But if you can't bear me leaving, I can stay with you for a while until you fall asleep."

Shi Mei hurriedly waved his hand and said warmly: "No, if you have to look at me like this, I won't be able to sleep either. You should go to bed early. Don't exhaust yourself."

The curvature in the corners of his mouth stiffened slightly. Mo Ran was a little sad.

Although Shi Mei treated him kindly, he always maintained such a distant attitude. It was the attitude of someone who was obviously close at hand, but as the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water, he could be seen but not obtained.

". . . Okay." In the end, he just tried to cheer up and laughed. Mo Ran's smile was very bright. When he wasn't completely evil, he was actually pretty silly and cute. "Call me if you need anything. I'm either right next door or downstairs."

"Okay."

Mo Ran raised his hand, wanting to touch his hair, but he held back. He spun his hand around in the air and scratched his head.

"I'm leaving."

Outside of the room, Mo Ran couldn't help but sneeze.

He sniffed.

Because Caidie Town produced incense, the price of all the different kinds of incense wasn't as expensive, so the inn wasn't stingy with it. Each room was lit with a long branch of special incense; one can ward off evil spirits, another can dehumidify, the last one can give the room a nice fragrance.

But as soon as Mo Ran smelled the incense, it made him uncomfortable. But if Shi Mei liked it, he would endure it.

Coming downstairs, Mo Yan wandered over to the innkeeper, slipped him a silver ingot. He squinted his eyes and said with a smile: "Innkeeper, do me a favour."

The innkeeper looked at the silver ingot and smiled more politely at Mo Ran: "What is this immortal gentleman's request?"

Mo Ran said: "I see that not many people come here to eat breakfast. I wanted to discuss that with you. I want to use the kitchen this morning. Please let the other guests know."

How much money would breakfast make him? It would probably be impossible to earn a silver ingot in half a month. The innkeeper immediately smiled and agreed, leading the swaggering Mo Weiyu into the kitchen of the inn.

"You want to cook by yourself? It's better to let the chef in our inn do it. He's very talented."

"No need." Mo Ran smiled. "Have you heard of the Jade Wine Building in Xiangtan?"

"Ah. . . Is that the famous music performance building that started getting popular more than a year ago?"

Mo Ran: "Yeah."

The boss took a peek outside and confirmed that his wife was busy and couldn't overhear. He snickered and said, "Who hasn't heard of it? It's the most famous restaurant on the Xiangjiang River. It used to have a lead musician there. It’s a pity it's so far away, otherwise, I'd want to listen to her play a song."

Mo Ran laughed: "Thank you for the compliment. I'll pass it onto her."

"Pass it on?" The innkeeper was puzzled. "Do you know her?"

Mo Ran said: "More than just know."

"Wow. . .You don't say? But you cultivators can be. . . well. . ."

Mo Ran interrupted him with a smile: "Other than the lead musician, do you know anything else?"

"Hmm. . . Their food was said to be a must."

The corners of Mo Ran's mouth curled higher and he smiled brighter. He skillfully picked up the kitchen knife and said: "Before I took up cultivation, I was a cook in the kitchen in the Jade Wine Building for several years. You said that your chefs make delicious dishes. Whose is better, theirs or mine?"

The innkeeper was even more shocked, and stammered out: "You're really. . . really. . ."

He couldn't get the words out.

Mo Ran gazed at him with narrowed eyes. His smile was barely holding back his smug and cocky demeanour: "You can leave. This chef is going to cook something."

The innkeeper didn’t know that he was talking to the former Lord of Darkness, and he put on a cheeky expression: “I've heard a lot about Jade Wine House's exquisite desserts. I wonder if you would let me have a bite once they're ready?"

He didn't think this was too high of a request. Mo Ran would definitely agree.

Who would've expected Mo Ran to squint his eyes and say with a smirk: "You want some?"

"Hmph!"

"Really?" Mo Ran snorted. He was bursting with pride. He scoffed: "You think I would cook for just anyone? This Venerable One is doing this just for Shi Mei. If not for him, I wouldn't even be lighting a fire to cook. . ."

He flipped a radish over and started to slice it, muttering.

". . ." The innkeeper slumped defeatedly. He rubbed his hands and stood there awkwardly. He halfheartedly chuckled at him then left.

He was also muttering to himself.

This Venerable One? For someone this young, his spiritual core hasn't even fully formed yet. He thought about his chatter and how he was probably referring to his elder sister disciple, but there was no female cultivator among the group who walked with him today.

The innkeeper rolled his eyes.

This person must be deluded.

Mo Ran stayed busy in the kitchen for several hours. It was almost noon when the work was finished, and he rushed upstairs to wake Shi Mei up.

When passing by Chu Wanning's room, he slowly came to a stop.

Should he ask if he wanted to eat together. . .

Thinking of Chu Wanning's harsh temperament, Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat, his face full of contempt.

No, no, no. He only had a few portions. There wasn't enough to share with him!

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #spiderman #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic

[asset35-maya]

I am sleepy but I gotta make a request before the busy tomorrow so 2 things on my mind! Sleepy and the 'oh my god they were roomates' vine xD with any characters and aus I love everything you write anyways xD Happy timezones and best vibes your way >^<!! 💖💞💕💕

Oh my god, they were roommates…

//

“The rental market in Detroit is absolute shit! How dare these bloodsuckers charge such high rates for the most under-developed properties! This city’s going to the dogs!”

“Uh-huh.”

“You have to pay your own weight in gold just to live in a shoebox for a year. Nonsense!”

“Uh…”

“Are you even listening to me, Tina!

Tina?

Goddamnit Tina!”

Gavin thumped his fist on her desk, but Tina’s eyes barely flicked up from her phone.

“Oh my god, you sound like my grandpa…”

Gavin turned red and his brain buzzed with a thousand colourful retorts. He was just about to pick one when Tina stopped scrolling and turned her phone screen towards him.

CYBERSCALIA @ NEW JERICHO

The suburban paradise for executive androids and humans alike. Located 25 minutes drive from downtown Detroit, with a full amenities.

Gavin’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He balked at her.

“You’re joking? How could I possibly…?”

“Get with the times, boomer…”

Tina lazily skimmed her thumb over the screen. The webpage promised plenty of greenery, good infrastructure and modest but spacious rooms. The extremely reasonable price tag was Gavin’s dream come true. He’d spent weeks apartment hunting in the wake of an early lease termination by his cantankerous landlord. Gavin knew he’d never find a better deal.

“Shit, this is so good, T! Why the phck does it have to be in that- that place!”

His friend arched a sceptical eyebrow.

“What place?”

“The Tincan ghetto!”

Tina smacked him on the arm. None too gently.

“It’s subsided public housing located in an android-friendly estate… because they’re the ones that need it most right now. And frankly, you seem to be in just as much need, so you should really get off that high horse.”

“Fine, fine. You’re right. I should seriously consider this place, even if my neighbours are gonna have more in common with my car than me. But damn, it seems a little too good to be true. There’s probably some fine print, hidden costs that’ll come out later.”

“Hmm… let’s see…”

Tina scrolled further and then let out a half-laugh. She held her phone up again.

“Nothing shady about the rates, but there is something you should know…”

At the risk of being called old again, Gavin squinted at the screen and read aloud.

“Bearing in mind the founding principles of New Jericho, all human occupants may only apply for tenancy in co-habitation with at least one android citizen of the United States of- JESUS PHCKING CHRIST! Absolutely not! I am not going to live with a plastic prick!”

//

Gavin had to get through half a bottle of wine before he could bear to scroll through the rental listings. Unlike other humans who had happily moved into New Jericho with their android friends or partners, he had to find an android who was also looking for a flatmate.

Some listings came from ardent supporters of Markus. These were the androids who wanted to ease the post-revolution transition by reaching out to humans. Some listings were put up by the android equivalent of frat boys. These individuals were clearly looking for someone on the fringes of human society, someone who could show them a good (if not illegal) time.

Other posts came from eccentric androids who craved company but had likely been rejected by their own kind. Gavin felt a strange twisting sensation, almost like pity, when he came across a post written entirely in third person by someone called Ralph.

He had almost given up hope when he came across a simple little listing for a two bedroom apartment in Cyberscalia.

RK900 #313 248 317 - 87: Seeking a neat, self-sufficient co-renter. Human or android, no preference. I spend most of my time working and will be out of your way for the better part of the day. I only ask for silence during my nighttime stasis cycles, timely payment of dues and upkeep of cleanliness.

Gavin sighed in relief.

//

“Your room is the first door on the left, mine is the second. The bathroom, laundry and kitchenette are shared, as is the living room. I scarcely find use for the latter, so you need not worry about my intruding on any of your social gatherings, or vice versa. As long as you adhere to the terms of the agreement, our paths will not cross much.”

The tall, stiff-necked android dropped a set of keys, both mechanical and digital, into Gavin’s open palm.

“Er thanks.. RK… sorry I forgot your full model number…”

“You may call me Nines. Although, I’d rather you didn’t call me much of anything. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

In a swish of black fabric, the android turned on his heel and disappeared into his room. Two rapid clicks indicated the shutting and locking of his door.

Gavin sighed and looked around the open-plan living room. It was nothing fancy, but it was far beyond any of the other properties he’d viewed in weeks of unsuccessful house-hunting.

He sat down on the simple black couch with a huff and contemplated his situation. He’d ended up where he’d truly never expected to go, but objectively speaking, things were good… barring the high-handed manner of his robot flatmate, but who gave a shit about that.

He pulled out his phone to text Tina his thanks.

//

“I can’t! I refuse to! It is a violation of my personal ethics and I will simply not take this assignment any further. Good day to you sir!”

Gavin nearly dropped his bowl of cereal one morning when his roommate burst out of his door and rushed into the open balcony.

He hadn’t seen Nines in days, which was perfectly normal. The android came and went at odd hours and made hardly any noise. It was almost like living alone. The only reminder of Nines’ presence was the sight of several dark shirts and trousers regularly hung out to dry on the rack above the washing machine.

Gavin set his bowl down and watched the android tightly grip the bars of the railing and take several unnecessary breaths to calm down. He’d seen deviant colleagues express emotion many times before, but this was the first time he witnessed such a potent mixture of rage and sorrow from a synthetic being.

Out of empathy, but mostly curiosity, Gavin approached cautiously.

“Hey Nines… is everything alright…?”

There was no response for several moments. Then Nines turned around with a grimace and hands held upwards in a placating gesture.

“I apologise for the disturbance. It was hypocritical of me to disrupt the very peace and quiet I demand of you.”

“Uh… no worries…? Are you okay?”

There was a flash of steel blue eyes.

Gavin kicked himself mentally as he realised too late that he’d broached uncharted territory. Their interactions didn’t extend beyond curt nods on the rare occasion they found each other in the same space. It was almost as if Nines engineered the lack of contact, which wouldn’t surprise Gavin at all if it were the case.

“I’m fine. I merely experienced some frustration with my work.”

Perhaps it was boredom, perhaps it was his usual lack of self-preservative instinct… Gavin threw caution to the winds.

“What do you actually do?”

Nines’ expression remained stoic but his LED went through a spectacular series of colours and flashes. His next words were reluctant.

“I’m a private investigator.”

“Oh shit! I’m actually a cop.”

Gavin pointed dumbly at himself and then let his hand drop when he saw absolutely no surprise cross the android’s face.

“I know. That’s why I let you stay with me.”

“For safety?”

“Certainly not for your fashion sense.”

“Wow okay, I didn’t think I’d be much protection for a big scary droid like you.”

Nines hummed dismissively and started to move out of the balcony, body language fully indicating the end of the conversation.

Unable to help himself for some strange reason, Gavin blurted out another ill-advised question.

“What pissed you off so much?”

Nines paused halfway through side-stepping the human. A thrill went through Gavin at the shards of ice he observed for the first time up close in Nines’ irises.

“If I tell you, will you promise to stop asking pointless questions?”

Gavin nodded earnestly, and frankly… rather foolishly.

“I helped a client gather evidence to initiate divorce proceedings on the grounds of infidelity. I provided ample photo and video evidence for his lawyers to work with. Now they want me to keep following the spouse to capture more details that could gear any future settlement in his favour.”

“So what’s your problem?”

“They’re offering me an incredible amount of cash to follow her 24/7. To stake out her workplace, her gym, her parent’s home. They want me to crouch under the window of the bedroom where her children sleep. I can do a lot of things, but not that. It’s deeply insulting that they even asked. That’s why I was so… pissed.”

Nines slipped past and was nearly back to his bedroom when Gavin spoke.

“I respect that.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“I know, but for real though, I think ethics are important in our line of work. Not just because of we need morals or a sense of right or wrong blablabla, but because we need… clarity.”

Silence floated through the hallway as Nines paused with a hand on his doorframe.

“Clarity?”

“Yeah, like a sense of direction. We don’t just take cases right-left-centre because they make us money. I mean, we could, and people do… but they never become specialists or experts of any kind. You gotta strategise if you want a career. Ethics helps with that. I think…”

Gavin wasn’t sure what made him say any of that. He was neither one for small talk, nor a man of many words… but something about Nines prompted that unusual level of introspective discourse.

“Sorry that was weird. Never mind.”

“That was actually… very astute.”

Their eyes met and Gavin could’ve sworn he saw the hint of a smile.

“It’s good to see that not all humans are as one-dimensional as I thought.”

The door clicked shut, but there was no locking sound.

//

Since the morning of Nines’ uncharacteristic outburst, the frequency of their encounters in the common areas of the apartment increased. Wordless nods became hellos, and hellos eventually became full sentences.

Not that he’d admit it, Gavin actually looked forward to enquiring about the android’s day and the cases he was working on. It was utterly fascinating to hear about legal investigations without the constraints of police procedure.

For his part, Nines would share as much as he had the patience to, before disappearing into the confines of his room. Though the time he spent outside steadily increased every day.

Another morning, while Gavin was making his coffee, Nines emerged from his room, still in his pyjamas and looking as livid as he had the time before. Gavin had never seen him in anything but crisply ironed businesswear. Before he could voice any concern, Nines stiffly asked Gavin to keep a lookout for a homicide suspect.

He nodded and immediately reached for his phone to text the sergeant on duty at his station. By midday, there was an arrest.

That evening, when Gavin settled in front of the TV with his usual glass of wine, he heard the familiar sound of Nines’ door opening. The couch dipped beside him.

“Thank you.”

“Just did my job. I should thank you for the tip.”

“Hmm.”

Gavin chanced a glance at his roommate, and found him looking right back.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just had the realisation that much of my work is impotent without the authority and means to take any kind of action.”

The sitcom began to play and Gavin thumbed the remote to reduce the volume.

“Takes all kinds to keep the streets clean. PIs can do things cops can’t. We rely on guys like you for intel all the time, you know.”

“I know.”

No words were exchanged for a while thereafter. Gavin found himself unable to focus on the TV show with all the brooding energy emanating from his right.

“If you feel like being a private eye doesn’t make enough of a difference, then why didn’t you… um… you know…”

“Join law enforcement?”

“Yup.”

“Plenty of my fellow androids have done so. I know for a fact that my predecessor model chose to remain there. You might know him.”

“Connor? Yes. Very annoying.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Totally. But why didn’t you join too? You’d be brilliant on the Force.”

“My skillset is certainly well-suited, but I didn’t want to become another puppet of the state.”

Gavin really didn’t know what to say to that. He nodded uncertainly and looked back at the television. He wasn’t sure why Nines was suddenly this social.

“What are you… watching?”

Androids could scan and detect just about anything in the world, so there had to be something else to the question. Gavin, strangely, was happy to oblige.

//

Nines made an appearance every evening, without fail. He would sit through the TV shows if they were of interest, or he would bring his case material and notes to the coffee table to work in silence beside Gavin.

Sometimes Gavin liked to work on jigsaw puzzles on the dining table. Nines would sit beside him, pretending to read a paperback novel, but actually scanning the puzzle and passing the right pieces over from time to time.

Against all odds, an evening ritual and a tentative friendship developed. It was simple, but it was warm. Comfortable. Like nothing Gavin had ever had before, even with humans.

//

He awoke one morning with a slight crick in his neck but the feeling of being very well-rested.

His eyes flickered open and fell upon the window. Familiar greenery came into view… but wait… had everything slightly shifted to the left? And was that the New Jericho Capitol building? He couldn’t see that from his room! There was a tree in the way! A tree that was now a few feet away from where it used to be.

Gavin sat up in alarm as he realised that he was not in his own bed. His heart flew into his throat as Nines walked through the open doorway. Shirtless and carrying a mug of blue liquid.

“Oh good, you’re up.”

“Wha-what happened!?”

Nines frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He set the mug on the floor and pulled on a plain black t-shirt.

“You passed out on the couch last night. I think you finished a whole bottle waiting up for me? Sorry, I was out working later than expected.”

Gavin looked down and sighed in relief as he found all his clothes still on him.

“I didn’t want you to injure yourself sleeping at an odd angle so I brought you here. Your door was locked.”

“You could’ve easily opened it.”

“Yes, but that would’ve been an invasion of privacy. I reserve that for working hours alone.”

Gavin looked deep into the sparkling blue eyes and as usual found no trace of humour.

“Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it. Now get out. You’re ruining my silk sheets.”

//

Against his best efforts, Gavin could not keep the thought of being carried to bed and tucked in safely out of his mind. How many years had it been? Since something like that had been even remotely possible for him?

He knew that Nines was just being kind in his own pragmatic little way… but Gavin found that he wouldn’t mind the prospect of waking up in the android’s bed in a wildly different context.

He realised he had it bad when Tina caught him smiling to himself at work one day.

“Why so happy?”

“Oh… nothing. Just remembered something my roommate did… He’s a… funny guy.”

“Huh. Well, look at you getting along so well with androids.”

“Android. Singular. Just him.”

“Wowwww… he sounds special.”

//

“Who did this?”

“Gavin, the damage is merely superficial-”

“Who phcking did this??!”

He reached forward and gingerly touched Nines’ split cheek. His synth skin was smeared with blue blood and glitching in and out. Nines winced at the contact.

“Shit, sorry. That must hurt like a bitch.”

“Androids do not feel pain.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m merely experiencing a surge in sensory input wherever my chassis is exposed. I’m fine.”

“Shut up and give me your first aid kit or whatever toolbox equivalent you tincans have.”

A shade of embarrassment appeared over the android’s features.

“I… actually don’t have one. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.”

“Didn’t think anyone could kick your ass, huh?”

“No… I didn’t think anyone would ever spot my hiding place.”

“Huh. How’d that happen?”

Nines’ eyes dipped, but as always, he answered the question.

“I was… distracted.”

Something in the air solidified and both of them felt it. Gavin cleared his throat and slapped his knees like an old man about to stand up.

“Right. Let me go check if the neighbours have anything that might help with your face.”

//

“So who’s this dapper young gent you’ve brought to the party, Gavin?”

“Er… he’s my uh… roommate.”

Captain Fowler nodded and winked.

“That’s what they called it in my day too.”

Nines shifted beside Gavin and cleared his throat.

“He’s a PI. But I think he’s wasting his talent taking pictures of cheating spouses. He’s quite interested in police work. Maybe we could get him to assist on a couple cases now and then?”

Fowler put down his drink and extended a warm hand to Nines.

//

“Oh thank RA9!”

Nines came running to the cluster of police cars and enveloped him in a giant hug. Gavin laughed as he patted him weakly on the back.

“Watch the ribs, big guy.”

“I was so worried.”

“Why? Your info was good. No chance of error.”

“I meant about you.”

Gavin pulled back and regarded Nines with confusion. The flashing red and blue lights of the cars made it hard to read his LED.

“Why?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

The android pulled him into a bruising kiss. The officers standing nearby broke into wolf-whistles and applause.

“What the-”

“Oh I take full credit for that, sir.”

Fowler glanced at Tina.

“The case, Chen?”

“Oh of course. I solved the whole thing. But I mean that specifically.”

She waved a hand in Gavin and Nines’ direction. The two held each other tightly and seemed unlikely to come up for air anytime soon.

“Like I helped Gav find an affordable place in New Jericho and then he met this handsome investigator droid and they were roommates.”

“Oh my god, they were roommates…”

“Yeah legit.”

//

\\\

Thanks so much for the request @jude-shotto

This ended up being a lot longer than expected, but I couldn’t help it. Your prompt just took me on a whole journeyyyy <3

#maya bday ask event #reed900 #rk900 #gavin reed #dbh gavin #dbh nines #gavin900 #gavin x nines #gavin x rk900 #dbh fanfic #dbh rk900 #dbh #dbh writing #my writing

[tinyyoungblood]

okay amazing here goes...so SOUR has been on repeat and your one-shot based on the album was super cute and just EVERYTHING 🥺 but also i was listening to 'traitor' the other day and the first line goes "brown guilty eyes and little white lies" and i just. the entire song puts me in the feels over a boyfriend i never had but anyway i was thinking what if...angst with peter parker!! maybe he's been more distant lately and lying about where he's been at nights or something? i'm not sure the world is your oyster!! thank you in advance💘 hehe

strangers with memories | peter parker

pairing: peter parker x reader

warnings: pure angst

a/n: “the world is your oyster” lol you’re so sweet <3 we don’t claim the peter parker in this fic because he knows better than this. enjoy x

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was nights like these that made you feel like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be. The window was opened, leaving outside noise from the street to breeze in and blend in with the lo-fi beats playing quietly from Peter’s laptop.

Your legs were tangled under a soft blanket as Peter showed you outfit pictures from his Pinterest board, asking for your opinion. It simply made sense. The world felt at peace.

“No, I don’t think you understand. Orange and teal look really good together, see.” Peter turned his phone around to show you his screen. You squinted at the brightness, but once your eyes adjusted, you burst out laughing.

“Sure, if you want look like Perry the Platypus. Get that away from me.” You shoved his hand away and Peter grinned. He swiped to another picture with the same colours combination, and you shrieked. “Not the brown beanie! Dr. Doofenshmirtz would have a field day with this.”

Peter chuckled. He rose to his feet and tossed his phone next to you on the mattress. “I’m going to the bathroom”, he declared with an air of casualness that made you crack a smile. He was halfway through the doorway when he popped his head back in and asked, “You want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” You looked up from your phone.

Peter shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Uh-huh.”

You suppressed your smile. “I’m good, thanks.” He gave you another shrug and left the bathroom, whistling a tune you didn’t know.

Not a second later, Peter’s phone gave off a subtle ping. It wasn’t your intention to look, but reflexes made you glance at it from the corner of your eyes. You regretted it instantly. Your shoulders tensed. It was just a text message—nothing scandalous, but the contact name made your stomach drop.

MJ.

Her name popped up on Peter’s phone screen more often than not. You really didn’t want to be bothered. You knew they were only friends, but you could already see the broad smile edging his face as he read the message. You hated where your thoughts had taken you.

Peter trusted you and you wanted to trust him as well, desperately. You demanded yourself to take the high ground. It still felt stupid and your chest caved in just at the thought of Peter grinning at his phone. He barely even answered your texts anymore.

You could already hear the white lies he was going to feed you. But you felt yourself wanting to keep the white lies. At least, that meant getting to keep Peter. All you could do was swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath. The world still blurred around you.

“May asked if you’re in the mood for Thai food.” Your gaze shot to Peter’s. He was leaning against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the same calm expression as before. Don’t ruin this. Keep the peace.

You forced a smile. “Thanks, but I don’t like Thai food.”

Peter frowned at that. “Since when? You’ve always liked it.” He appeared almost affronted before realisation crossed his face. “Oh wait, my bad, MJ liked it. We actually just had Thai food together the other night with Ned.” A private smile curled around his lips at the memory.

“Sounds nice,” you replied weakly. It was all you could say.

Peter didn’t seem to mind. He pushed himself off and strolled over, picking up his phone to see the texts he had just received. He chuckled softly at whatever he had been sent and punched in a reply.

You simply sat there, fiddling with the blanket that suddenly felt too hot. Say something, the voice inside your head demanded. Be exciting. Don’t make him lose interest. Your hands curled into a fist. You felt ridiculous.

“So about Friday night,” you began awkwardly, feeling suddenly very out of place although there was nobody else in the room. Peter’s eyes were bright with delight as he typed away on his phone.

“Hm?” He said, and you had a feeling it wasn’t because he wanted to you to go on. He just wasn’t sure if you had spoken at all.

Your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile. “Are you going to pick me up or should we just meet there?”

Peter’s eyebrows creased. “Meet you where?”

“At the movies,” you said curtly. “We wanted to watch that movie, remember? It was your idea.” The bite in your tone finally made Peter look up. It was like watching a slow car crash.

“Was it?” Peter mused, and you nodded stiffly.

“Oh.”

From somewhere on the street, you heard people arguing. Their sharp voices cut into the room and drilled themselves into your chest. Don’t let this be us. That isn’t us. We’re better than that. You fixed your eyes on the curve of Peter’s neck, concentrating on his breathing to feel like he wasn’t drifting away. In reality, you knew that the ship was already leaving the harbour and there was nothing you could do.

“Sorry,” Peter finally said, lips pursed. “I kind of already made plans with MJ. Her uncle has this cool train collection that she wanted to show me. She told me about it at lunch today and I’m really excited. It’s pretty awesome.”

Your face dropped and he had the good sense to add, “But we can always catch the movie on Monday night if you want.”

“Why not on the weekend?” A part of you dreaded to hear the answer.

Peter didn’t hesitate as he waved you off. “Ned and I wanted to get started on that new Lego set I told you about.” You had no recollection of that. Peter’s eyes flickered to you before another text message came in, demanding his full attention. The sound made you feel nauseous. The ship was a dot now, fading into the horizon while you were still stranded.

“You can join us if you want,” Peter offered with eyes glued to his phone. “MJ is going to bring Thai food, I think.”

You didn’t bother to reply. You felt claustrophobic. Pushing yourself off his bed, you headed for the window. It was already opened by a crack, but you needed fresh air. It was almost overwhelming when you stepped over the window sill and let yourself out onto the fire escape. The stairs screeched but you didn’t care for the noise. What you needed was proof that there was more out there.

The railing was cold as you wrapped your hands around them. Each window across the street was alit in numerous colours. Silhouettes moved in those colours—people with their own lives and sorrows. The world continued to live.

You settled on one of the stairs and stared up at the night sky. No stars, nothing. You were really stuck at the harbour. Peter’s room was glowing in purple thanks to the LED strips you had set up together a few weeks ago. He had bought old vinyl records and you spent the entire night rating them until sunlight pooled in through the curtains. It all felt like a pipe dream now.

You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting outside by yourself. All you knew were the colour blocks of windows, shifting in and out of blurriness. You had been too busy watching the ship sail away that you only now realised how much you had starved yourself. One good night wasn’t going to change that. Your mind was just really good at leaving out the bad parts.

“Here you are.” Peter’s voice caught you off guard. You turned away, wiping your tearstained cheeks hastily as he watched you with knitted brows. “I just came to tell you that I invited Ned and MJ over. I hope that’s fine.”

When you didn’t reply, Peter stepped out and sat on the window sill. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Do I look okay to you?”

“Well,” he said, “You’ve been acting weird all week, so…I’m not sure”

“I have been acting weird?” You echoed.

Peter hesitated but lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah, but you’re always smiling, so I just assume you’re all right.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said bitterly, tucking your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. “Just look what we’ve become. You can’t even tell anymore if I’m putting on a fake smile.”

“What are you talking about?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Oh, you know.” You waved your hand at nothing. “Air pollution, climate change, everything and nothing these days. But you wouldn’t know, would you.”

“Y/N,” Peter said with an edge to his voice. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

You hadn’t realised that you had started pacing until his question made you halt and whip around. There was acid in your tone as you snapped, “Don’t you miss me at all?”

“What?” Peter looked stumped. “We see each other every day at school. You’re literally standing in front of me right now.”

You scoffed and sat back down on the stairs. “Love really does make people blind,” you murmured and stared at the sky. Maybe it was going to rain.

Peter exhaled sharply and knelt before you, lowering your chin to look you in the eye. He thought he could find an answer in them, but you knew that if he’d been blind to it all this time, he wasn’t going to see it now. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, and your chest ached.

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I want you. That’s all I wanted.”

“Wanted? You have me.” Peter pressed his lips together. “You have me right now, Y/N.”

“I don’t.” You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “MJ has you. She’s had you for a while now, and I’m just here watching you both from afar.”

Peter opened his mouth, most likely wanting to deny it, but no sounds came out. He simply stared and stared and stared. Your heart was racing. There was no way back, so you went on, “I don’t care if you’re just friends. I really don’t care, because it hurts just as much knowing that I still let you treat me like that. I miss you and you’re sitting right in front of me. And you know what the worst part is?”

Memories flooded your mind, bricking you like thorns. You devoured them, hungrily, because you were used to living on crumbs. Peter holding you in his arms. Peter looking tenderly after your wounds and kissing your tears. Peter turning sorrow into bliss until you were drunk on laughter and the sky was dusted in stars.

A sad smile hung to your lips. “I still think the world of you. All those nights when I had prayed for someone like you. Someone who could be my safe person and I could be theirs—I thought I had that with you.”

“You do,” Peter hissed, and at once you wondered where he found the strength to believe his own lies. He sighed. “I promise you, you did. It’s just…” Your throat went dry as he bit his tongue. “It’s not something you can control, okay? Maybe you’re just not my only safe person anymore. It’s…it’s not a big deal.” Peter’s gaze dropped as your breath caught.

You were glad you were sitting. There was no doubt that your knees would’ve given out otherwise. His confession felt like a punch to the gut. That small, pathetic voice inside your head screamed and trashed, denying everything he’d just said. A part of you was always so hopeful—Peter used to love that about you.

Remember, it tried to reason, he promised he would never hurt you. Remember how it felt to have his arms around you. It couldn’t have been a lie. None of it could’ve been a lie. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“You’re not actually sorry,” you heard yourself say. “You’re just saying that to feel good about yourself. If you were sorry, you would’ve never made all those promises—” You didn’t have it in yourself to continue. No words would’ve done you justice anyway. “If you’re just going to keep hurting me, then leave me alone.”

Something dark flared in his brown eyes. “Leave you alone?” asked Peter incredulously. “This is stupid and you know it. All of this, just because I’m friends with MJ. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous? We’re just friends. There’s no reason for you to get paranoid.”

“I’m being paranoid now?” Your eyes narrowed.

“That’s what I would call it, yes.”

“Then tell me this.” You jumped to your feet. “Last week, when Mr. Harrison took points off my assignment because I supposedly handed it in too late, why didn’t you speak up for me? You were there, you knew I handed it in time. All I needed was for you to tell him the truth, but you didn’t say a damn thing. Now I’m failing that class, and you know why this is the first time you’re hearing about this?”

Peter remained silent, but his eyes flickered, and the crease between his brows was evidence enough.

“Because you were too distracted giggling with MJ in the back. You didn’t even notice when I stormed out of that room, so don’t lie to yourself, Peter. You haven’t been by my side in a while now.”

You shook your head when Peter averted his gaze. Of course, he had nothing to say. Both of you knew it wasn’t just about that class. It was about the missed calls, the empty words, and all the times he had stood you up and let you down. At least he respected you enough to not deny it. No more white lies.

“See, this is the thing,” you began, swinging your leg over the window sill to step inside the room. You faced Peter and waited until his gaze drifted to yours. “You gave me your word and I was stupid enough to believe you. I trusted you. It was supposed to be you and me against the world, but you sat back and watched it beat me down because you were too busy falling in love with somebody else.”

Peter’s expression shifted and you turned your back to him. Seeing his frustration replaced by realisation was something you knew you couldn’t stomach.

So you made to leave. It was only when you were halfway through the room that you recognised the feeling simmering in your gut as something a bit different than resentment. You looked back over your shoulder, eyebrows lowered, and struggled to find your voice.

“Peter?”

It was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He tore his gaze from the floor and looked at you. Wild storms were trapped in his eyes, an ocean rising. It was devasting to look at.

But it was then that you realised, that although Peter had never cheated on you, his brown guilty eyes still made him a traitor. You took a deep breath.

“Just don’t treat her how you treated me,” was all you said. And with that, you were gone.

* * *

i’d really appreciate if you left some feedback since i barely ever write angst and want to know what you think:) stay hydrated guys

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x yn #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fandom

[deanstead]

Stalked

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Reader

Requested by anon: Could I get 13 and 19 on the prompt list, please! Kelly x reader where the reader is a bartender at Molly’s and ends up with a stalker. Maybe a sprinkle of Jay helping out, too.

Warnings: mentions of stalking, anxiety, mild cursing

A/N: Prompts were meant for drabbles but…. It became too long to be labelled as a drabble so tagging this as a one-shot but I used the prompts! Just felt there needed to be a bit of a build-up for a stalker backstory. Hope you like it! Would also love to hear what you think!

---

You had been getting the feeling that you were being followed for the past few weeks.

There were just a few moments in your day when you felt that you were being watched. It started off at Molly’s when you were pulling your bartending shift, the hairs on the back of your neck had stood but you couldn’t pinpoint it in a crowded bar.

Yet during the past few weeks, it had progressively gotten more frequent. You hadn’t told anyone about it yet because there was nothing to tell. There wasn’t a stranger you saw frequently. Molly’s was usually full of firefighters from 51 or police officers and detectives from 21, or even the medical staff from Med. But no one jumped out at you so you didn’t mention anything to anyone.

You felt it again as you walked the short distance from Molly’s to your apartment building after finishing your shift but you shook it off. Maybe you were too tired.

You jogged up the stairs, squinting when you noticed a package sitting in front of your door.

You smiled. Kelly must have left something for you. You turned, looking up and down the empty corridor. The only thing that smelt a little funky was that Kelly usually left a note or stuck around.

You flipped open the box, frowning at the contents.

What the hell was this?

You stood in front of your door, picking up the stack of photos inside the box. Photos of you – laughing at Molly’s, at the store, at the pharmacy, photos through the window of this very apartment. Photos that you were now sure weren’t from Kelly.

The box dropped to the ground with a clang, the photos slipping from your fingers and scattering onto the floor. You took a shaky step backwards.

You didn’t even realise your hands were shaking until you fumbled with the clasp on your bag to try to call Kelly.

There were just two rings before he answered. “Hello?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice before speaking.

“Y/N?” Kelly’s voice again.

“Kelly…” You failed at keeping your voice steady, your voice breaking a little as you called out his name.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” Kelly had picked up on your shaky voice immediately.

“Kelly… something… someone…” Your brain was fogging up.

You could hear Kelly moving around. “Where are you?” When you didn’t respond immediately, Kelly pressed again. “Y/N, where are you?”

“Outside my apartment.” You finally found the words.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right there, okay? Stay there.” Kelly instructed before he hung up.

---

You weren’t sure how long it was you had been there. Once the line had gone dead, you had sunk to the floor, drawing your knees close to your chest, your head down. The box was lying open in front of you, the photographs scattered around. You only looked up again when you heard footsteps, followed closely by Kelly’s voice.

“Y/N!” Kelly called, making a beeline for you.

“You okay?” He demanded. You nodded your head but looped your arms around Kelly, pushing your face into his chest.

You felt Kelly reach over to hold you before you heard a third person’s voice. “Let me clear the house.”

You hadn’t even noticed that Jay was with Kelly.

“Kelly, we’re good.” Jay nodded, tossing your keys back to Kelly. You hadn’t even noticed that Kelly had taken them from you.

“Come on.” Kelly helped you up and guided you inside, Jay following close behind. Before long, Kelly was pushing a hot cup of tea into your hands as Jay pored over the box.

“No promises but I’ll try to pull security footage, maybe we can even dust for prints.” Jay said, glancing over at Kelly.

“Thanks for coming over with me.” Kelly said, getting up.

“Don’t sweat it, Kelly.” Jay smiled.

You looked up. “Thanks Jay.” You smiled.

“You hang in there, okay? I’ll do what I can.” Jay called, waving as he left.

“I can stay here tonight.” Kelly said, as the door closed behind Jay. You didn’t say anything but reached for his hand and he smiled, kissing the back of your hand.  

---

It had been a month and a half since the box had shown up on your door and then nothing.

The best Jay could come up with was that it was a white guy in his thirties, wearing a hoodie and baseball cap. The cameras caught nothing and there were no prints they could match him to.

“Everything’s been okay, though?” Jay asked, as you slid him his drink.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s been quiet.”

Jay nodded. “Hey, you know if you need anything…”

You smiled, “Thanks Jay. Drink’s on me.”

He smiled, raising his glass in thanks as you wandered off to restock the supplies.

By the time you had finished tidying storage, Molly’s was almost empty, save for a few more people from 51. “Hey Y/N, you can take off early. There’s not much to do, I can handle it.” Herrmann called as you walked out.

“You sure?” You asked, scanning the room. “We’re not exactly closed yet.”

Herrmann smiled. “Yeah, go on.”

“Thanks Herrmann!” You called, going for your bag.

You dialled Kelly’s number but it went straight to voicemail. It still wasn’t late, technically Herrmann was letting you finish shift early. You sent Kelly a quick text to meet you straight at your apartment and calling out byes, slipped out the back door.

You were halfway to your apartment when your phone rang.

“Y/N, I told you I’d pick you up.” Kelly said, the moment you picked up the phone.

You sighed, “Kelly, I’m almost home. I’m just around the corner, I just…” You were cut off midsentence by someone grabbing you and you gave a short yelp before you dropped your phone and got pulled into the adjacent alley.

---

Kelly sighed as he heard you justify why you had left the bar early. He knew this was coming, he just didn’t expect it to be this soon. You had always been feisty and independent, so he knew you’d start to let your guard down soon.

“I’m just around the corner, I just…” There was a pause before you gave a short yelp.

“Y/N!” Kelly called but the line had already gone dead.

Fuck.

Kelly fumbled with his keypad as he ran down the street. “Jay, I think she’s in trouble, one street over from Molly’s. I need your help.”

Kelly pumped his legs, pushing himself faster down the street. It had always seemed like a short street when he had walked you home but now it didn’t feel so short.

---

You had the breath knocked out of you as you were thrown against the concrete wall in the alley, your head hitting the wall with a clang, stars dancing in front of your vision.

“Now, no one can tear us apart.” A voice drawled in your ear. You could feel someone hovering above you, his hot breath tickling your ear, as his hand found your neck.

You could feel the bile rise in your throat. You had no idea who this person was, or what they wanted. All you knew for sure was that he was the owner of that creepy box you had received and he was way too close to you.

You had a scream stuck in your throat and you struggled to get it out. You needed to get it out or Kelly would never be able to find you.

“Hey!”

You sank to the ground as you felt his hold on you loosen.

Kelly’s face contorted into a look of rage as he looked down the alley. Without pausing, Kelly pounced, pushing the man off of you. He saw you sink to the ground out of the corner of his eye but turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

Kelly could feel his heart pumping in his chest as he landed a punch on the man’s face. The man threw a punch, causing Kelly to stumble backwards but Kelly threw himself forward again, pushing him deeper into the alley, so as to put as much distance as he could between you and the man.

Kelly threw another punch, knocking the man off his feet. Kelly growled but this time heard footsteps.

“Kelly!” Kelly stepped backwards, avoiding a kick from the man who lay on the gorunf before Jay came running up. 

“Don’t move.” Jay snarled, taking out his gun.

Jay glanced at Kelly who was now holding onto this guy on the ground firmly, before holstering his gun and bending down to take over and handcuff the man. “I got this.”

Kelly nodded and hurried back to where you were sitting on the ground.

“Y/N?” Kelly approached, noticing the way you stiffened as he reached out for you. “Babe?”

You snapped your head up as you tried to shrink further backwards. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.”

You finally saw him, Kelly standing over you, his hand stretching out towards you. “Kelly?” Your voice shook a little.

Kelly bent to your level. “Baby, breathe. Just breathe, okay?”

You took a shuddering breath; a breath you didn’t know you had been holding as Kelly pressed you into him. “That’s my girl.” He whispered.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Kelly whispered, as you heard the sirens.

“Kelly, We’ll take him in. You think she’s up for a statement?” Jay’s voice now.

Kelly hesitated but you looked up. “I can talk to Jay.” You said, although you hadn’t loosened your hold on Kelly.

Jay nodded, “Kelly can stay with you. I just need an official witness statement, okay?”

You recounted as much as you could remember to Jay, glad that it was Jay who was taking your statement. A friendly face, someone you knew you could trust.

“Thanks Jay. I…”

Jay smiled, reaching in to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly.

---

Kelly had gotten you back to your apartment, and you were now sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Kelly asked, coming down to eye level with you.

You smiled and nodded. “Now, I am.”

You reached for Kelly’s hand. Kelly took your hand in his and sank into the couch next to you, gently pulling you towards him and holding you close, planting a kiss on your temple..

“Can you stay? You make me feel safe.” You whispered.

Kelly didn’t respond immediately, instead just tightening his arms around you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

You closed your eyes as Kelly shifted to make you more comfortable. “Kelly, I…”

“I know.” He whispered, “Me too.”

---

KELLY SEVERIDE TAGLIST

@keenmarvellover | @securityfriendly-jay | @winterberryfox | @bestillmystuckyheart​

If you would like to be added to a taglist, you may request here or send me an ask!

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