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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

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cal-flakes · 2 months

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i love your writing sm 🤍

you know what i also love? when rafe calls reader angel 🤭

and i love YOU

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— rafe was never good at pet names, not first at least, and that was made clear on your first date, when you poured about him calling you dude. ‘m’not your dude’ — so from there he worked out what you responded most to, and the way you peered up at him, all cute and ready to do anything for him when he called you kid, or the way your lashes fluttered, plump lips threatening a smile when he called you doll, told him everything needed to know.

but angel? angel was a soft spot he only dared to touch when he really needed you to listen to him, the name shut down your brain yet got your cogs working all the same. you knew he was serious, and you needed to be serious.

and when his name popped up on your screen on a day you weren’t expecting to see him at all, you all but leaped across your bedroom, knowing he’d be irritable about having to call twice, your phone being on do not disturb as usual.

“rafey?” you beamed, as though he could see your pearly whites. “what have i told you about changin’ your settings kid? don’t like having to call more than once kid” he huffed, your eyebrows pulling together at the sound of his breathless voice. “i dunno how to change it rafey” you spoke softly, pressing the speaker button while you mindlessly brushed through your hair in the mirror.

“you just go to— whatever, i’ll do it f’you tomorrow. need you to come outside” he sighed, obviously perplexed about something— which really could be anything given his choice of lifestyle. your frown only deepened as you glanced towards the window, quickly pulling away the curtain to see his car outside. “outsi— m’coming”

skipping down the stairs, in nothing but one of his huge t-shirts and some slippers, you pulled the door open in a hurry. “i thought i wasn’t seeing you today— did i forget?” you almost whispered, eyes falling to the floor as you toyed with your hands, regret clouding your thoughts. rafe was quick to assure you however.

“y’didnt forget anythin’, alright kid? but i need you to do something f’me” rafe said, squishing your cheeks between both hands, pulling you to look at him. nodding softly, you looked at him through your lashes expectantly, but winced slightly when he only tightened his grip. “m’serious right now”

you watched, intrigued when he pulled his hands away, pulling his gun from his waistband and held it out to you; which you skeptically took in your significantly smaller, manicured hands. if your eyes were lasers, they would’ve burned a hole right through the handle of the heavy metal, utterly confused.

“look, angel, i need you to hide this for me okay? can you do that f’me?” he spoke, tone firm and unshaken while he pulled you closer again, your chin between his fingers. — as if you were some sort of soldier, your shoulders seemed to tense up under his gaze. there was a task at hand, and your rafey had asked you to help. you nodded, concern apparent on your face.

“tha’s a good girl, remember— you gotta hide it somewhere super secret, alright? put it somewhere that even i can’t find it” rafe stated, body relaxing finally as he saw the look on your face, seeing the complete determination in your face.

“m’gonna pick you up tomorrow, m’kay doll? take you for breakfast or somethin’” he hummed, pressing a mindless kiss to your forehead.

#ʚ♡ɞ ☁: elle’s dreams #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe blurb

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buckyalpine · 8 months

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Hello and hope you are doing well!! I was wondering if you could do smut story where the reader get more than she bargained for when telling Bucky that his dark side could do a better job at certain things. Also your stories are amazing ❤️🖤

Bucky gives you what you ask

YESSS. Thank you bb, Im so sorry this took forever and I hope you see this, I loved this so much. And as always I got so lost in it. Good God. He is dirty, dirty here.

You loved the way Bucky loved you. He was so soft, gentle, took care of all your needs without leaving behind a single mark on your delicate skin. Bucky was nothing more than a soft sweet thing, slowly getting back into his boyish 40's charm, a gentleman at all times. If you didn't know about his past, you would've never guessed he'd have another side to him.

But you'd seen the shift in his demeanor whenever he'd train in the gym and even more so when he was out on the field. The way his eyes would narrow with laser like focus when hitting his targets, the way he wouldn't flinch when putting a bullet between their eyes. His face would be expressionless when his metal arm would wrap around their throat, slowly draining life out of them, parts of the Winter Soldier still running deep in his veins.

And how badly you craved to have that side of him take you apart.

"What is it sweets" Bucky watched you fidget with the buckles of his tac suit, helping him undress after he'd just returned after a mission. There was something about him in his all black straps, leather and weapons that made your knees weak. It didn't help that his beard had started to fill out, the ends of his hair starting to curl at the nape of his neck. "You okay?"

You adore how attentive he is even when he's exhausted after weeks away from home but you wished just for once, he'd choke you with his metal arm instead of just hugging you with it.

"I want-" You paused for a second before continuing, "I want more"

"More of what doll" Bucky's wide puppy eyes were filled with worry; he made sure to always pay attention to your needs and he'd do anything to make you happy. "Tell me, you know I'd do anything"

"Just- take more control, be more rough with me" You weren't sure how you wanted to explain yourself but your body knew exactly what it needed, growing hotter by the second the longer he stood there in his tac suit before you. He let out a soft chuckle when he realized what you meant, laying down his knifes off to the side on the dressed.

"I had you moaning my name before I left doll" Bucky playfully rolled his eyes while you huffed, your sexual frustration only growing more when he tossed off his Kevlar leaving him in his tight black tshirt.

"Well the Winter Solider would have me screaming" You shrug, not noticing the way Bucky froze, now staring at you without blinking. "I think that side of you would do a better job at certain things, Buck"

"You don't want to see that side of me sweets" Bucky tried to keep his voice neutral, ignoring the way his cock was already throbbing in his pants, straining painfully against the thick fabric.

"But what if I do?" you challenged back, taking a step back when he moved forward, slowly backing you against the wall of your shared bedroom.

"Doll..." He warned, squeezing his eyes shut trying to collect himself, his fingers twitching at his sides. "That's not a good idea"

"Why not, think the Winter Soldier wouldn't be able to make me feel as good?" You added a taunt to your voice, hoping to rile him up, his chest now nearly pressing against yours, caging you against the wall.

"Is that so" Bucky tested the water slowly, still wanting to give you an out if you needed one because he wasn't going to be able to hold back once he started. You nodded, heart hammering against your chest as he took in a deep breath, his jaw clenched.

"As you wish sweets" He whispered by your ear, the tip of his cool metal knife suddenly pressing against your throat. Your eyes grew wide at the fact that he'd slipped it into his hand so swiftly, you hadn't noticed. "If you want me to stop, say Brooklyn, understand?"

"Yes" You squeaked, while he dragged it till it rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look meet his darkened eyes. Without a word, he sliced down your blouse, ripping away at the material that caught in the middle. He didn't give you a chance to speak, his hands grabbing the edges of your bra, splitting it into two before tearing your leggings into pieces next.

You were complete naked within seconds, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze, still fully dressed himself. Bucky had seen you naked countless times, in fact you'd change in front of him without a care in the world, always giggling at the cute blush he'd have on his cheeks.

But this wasn't the same.

Not even the slightest.

He tossed you over his shoulder and threw you on the bed letting you bounce off the mattress while he stood at the edge.

"Spread your legs"

It wasn't a request. It was a demand.

Bucky looked like he wanted to devour you. This was the same man that had his head between your legs more times than you could count but he was staring at you like he'd never seen you before. You shrunk back, squeezing your thighs together at the low growl he made, grasping your ankles and splitting them apart till you were completely exposed to him, your wet folds giving away how turned on you were. He fumbled with the button of his pants, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, his palm and fingers swiping up your pussy to gather you slick, slathering it over his erection.

"Such a pretty baby with such a pretty pussy"

You bit back a whine as he started to jerk his cock, circling the tip with his thumb, spreading his own arousal around. He took a step back to admire you, his eyes shamelessly raking up and down till he was satisfied with his fill. He moved to lay on top of you, his nose trailing along the column of your neck, inhaling your soft scent. There was something so feral about him, you stayed frozen in place while his hands found their way to your waist, squeezing the soft flesh.

"I'll show you exactly what you've been missing out on" He nipping your earlobe before crawling off you again to throw off the rest of his clothes. "God, I've wanted this for so long"

There was no prep, no foreplay, no soft kisses and sweet words. Bucky grabbed your hips, manhandling you till your face was pressed against the mattress, his swollen cockhead prodding at your fluttering pussy. He let out a dark chuckle, swiping his cock up and down through your folds, pressing his tip against your clit.

"Bucky, fuck me" You were desperate to feel him inside you, wiggling your hips as best as you could to get him to push it in you but you were instead met with a harsh slap to your ass, the cool metal making your skin sting.

"Impatient little slut" He shook his head, taking both your wrists and twisting them behind your back, He held them in one hand while the other snaked up tp grab your hair, tugging it tight from the roots. "Beg. Beg me to fuck you"

"P-Please Bucky, want it!"

"You want who to fuck you princess, say it, tell me exactly whose cock you want to ruin you"

"Yours soldat, please, want you, please fuck me solda-FUCKK" Bucky slammed his cock into you without warning, setting in a brutal pace that had you gasping for air. His balls smacked you with each thrust, the grip he had on your wrists and hair tightening for better leverage.

"I fuck needed this" His head was thrown back, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he fucked you harder than ever before, the squelching of your pussy making a sticky, dirty mess all over him. "You have no. Fucking. Idea. how fucking hard is it every time I fuck you"

His words were punctuated with harsh thrusts, growling at the way you'd already started to flutter around him as he hit your cervix. Your jaw was slack from surprise and pleasure, pathetic moans and whimpers replacing your words.

"Do you? Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to hold back kotenok? How hard is it for me to not fuck your brains out when I'm deep in such a tight pussy? How badly I want to rail you, YA tak dolgo khotel tebya trakhnut" [I wanted to fuck you so hard for so long]

You'd never hard Bucky speak Russian, not once but his filthy mouth didn't stop as he continued to rail you, foreign curses dripping from his mouth.

"You think I'm such a gentleman don't you, huh? You remember the first time we had sex princess? how I made love to you? How slow it was, how you moaned when I put my cock in you for the first time?"

"Y-yes" Your body was slack against the bed, only held up because Bucky was gripping onto you with a bruising hold.

"I made love to you that night, didn't I. But I like to fuck baby, especially you, I've wanted to fuck this pussy for so long, ruin it all just for me"

You were suddenly flipped over again, whining when you felt empty, only to be filled right back up again seconds later when Bucky laid on his back, pulling you to straddle on top of him. He planted his feet against the mattress, not giving you a chance to move, fucking up into you, the angle of his hips rubbing against that sensitive spot inside you.

"Oh-oh f-fuckk" tears streamed down your face as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers before wrapping his hand around your throat. He muffled your sobs, slipping his thumb between your lips, shoving it down your mouth till you drooled.

"You look so pretty when you cry kotenok, is it too much?" He taunted, squeezing your throat tighter, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at my arm princess, I always knew you were a needy little slut deep down You wanted this though, hm? Wanted my fat cock to ruin you till you wouldn't be able to walk?"

"I-oh god-fe-els good I-gonna cummm" You could barely formulate sentence, practically squealing when Bucky rolled over once again, this time tossing your legs over his shoulders, his hand snaking down to rub your swollen clit.

"Gonna cum, are you princess? Who do you belong to, say it, who fucks you this good?!"

"Y-You Bu-"

A harsh slap to your cheek made your pussy clench, Bucky's blue eyes dilated to rings, a feral expression his face as he smacked your face once more making you sob out of pleasure again.

"That's not whose fucking right now you is it?! Tell me, say it"

"YOU SOLDAT" You wailed as he continued to thrust into your puffy, overstimulated pussy, getting his teeth, grabbing onto the headboard as it slammed against the wall.

"That's right kotenok, you belong to him now" Bucky let his body weight fall onto you, bringing his knees up and pounding you deep against the bed, his own pace growing sloppy, balls pulling tighter towards his body. "Gonna give you all of his cum sweets, gonna fill this slutty desperate cunt with all of my cum, that's what you want isn't it? To be a little cum dump for the Winter Soldier?"

Bucky's mind went somewhere else, back to the first time he'd seen you, still as the Soldier, back when the team first discovered him. Back when his brain was fried but you had remined seared in his mind. Back when his mission was to finish you but some part deep down inside him wanted something else he didn't understand.

"God, where were you all those nights I had to touch myself alone, when I needed something warm and tight to cum in? huh? Bet you didn't know that huh princess? didn't know that the Soldier lusted after the pretty bunny that tried to take him down?"

Your eyes grew wide at his confession, pleasure desperate to snap within seconds.

"Did you know the winter soldier wanted to fuck you bunny? Did you know he'd jerk off when no one was watching? Had no idea what was going on Bunny, just remember my cock aching so bad, leaking so damn much. Nothing made it better until I touched myself. Didn't even know what I was doing, just fucked my fist while I thought about how pretty you looked in that tac suit, came all over my sheets like a little boy"

"I-fuck-Can-can I cum soldat?" You clung onto him, whimpering at the way you had to desperately hold back from gushing all over the sheets, his words too much, you couldn't take it any more.

"Go a head and cum princess, takoy khoroshiy kotonok" [such a good little kitten] He nipped up your neck, rubbing your clit faster, moaning with you as you started to cum around his cock. His movements didn't stop, fucking you through your high till your body jolted under him, the smell of sex heavy in the room.

"S-S'too much" You hiccupped while Bucky continued to fuck you like a man with no morals.

"Too much? It's too much for you kitten? Don't worry, gonna fill you up so good baby, where, where do you want to soldat to cum?!"

"Inside!" You cried out, locking your ankles around his waist, your slurred sob turned into a guttural moan when he pinched your clit between his fingers.

"Here it comes kotenok, got so much cum for you, it's gonna drip baby, get ready, here it comes, here it fuckin' comes- OH FUUCCKKK" Bucky roared against your neck before stilling, his cock throbbing and twitching, hot seeding feeling you up till it leaked. You were practically floating, too fucked out to realize He'd gently gotten off you and cradled you close.

"Are you okay pretty girl?" Bucky cooed, snapping back into the sweetheart that he was, the switch over leaving you reeling with your eyes still crossed. "My poor baby"

Bucky chuckled at your dazed expression, cuddling you up to his chest, caressing your sweat slicked skin.

"Come back to me princess" He pulled the covers up to warm you up in his arms, resting you carefully against the pillows. "My good girl, you did so good for me angel, m'so proud of you, so good"

You whimpered in response, curling up against him, your body still jolting and pulsing.

"Was it too much angel?" His brows furrowed with concern, cupping your cheek to look at him. He kissed away the now dry tear tracks that stained your face, his thumb swiping over your hot skin.

"Never" You rasped out, your voice raw from screaming, "Was perfect Soldat"

"You're perfect angel" Bucky grinned, stroking your spine while you continued to snuggle into him, his cock already twitching at the thought of another round. "My perfect little kotenok"

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cherry-leclerc · 1 month

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stolen sweethearts ☆ cl16

genre: humor, angst, yearning, pining after three years so maybe slowburn??, fluff, second chances, whipped!charles

word count: 4.3k

Everything that leads to your wedding day and ends up with a knock on your door from your ex-boyfreind and an infamous letter.

req!...longer than intended, whoops! enjoy, anons :)

inspired by this !

“You’re making a mistake—”

Your eye twitches in the slightest, glossy lips curling into a snarl. “Shut up and be quiet.”

“What?”

Looking down at your boyfriend, dressed in Armani from head to toe and a blank expression, you wince apologetically. You grasp his hand tighter, knuckles becoming white, and smile widely, tears brimming the corner of your eyes. “Not you, honey!” A wet chuckle escapes when he visibly relaxes. “Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes.”

The engagement party was a pleasant surprise, filled with congratulations and early wedding gifts. It also brought out a large group of your friends from hibernation. “Felicidades,” Carlos says with a teasing smirk. “I truly never thought I’d see the day you settle.”

You bit the air. “Ha ha. That was the old me. New me is a completely changed woman thanks to true unconditional love. It’s crazy, try it out some time,” you shoot back.

The Spaniard simply scowls and bows away, returning to his earlier conversation. You consider yourself lucky—as if you committed a successful heist and somehow got away with it. He was handsome, with bright eyes, dark hair, and tempting lips. There truly wasn’t a single flaw to your now fiancé. And if there were, no one ironically saw it but Lando.

“You’re making a—”

“Mistake?” you finish off his sentence, sighing and rubbing your temples. “So you say.” You were in the middle of ordering yourself another piña colada when he hounded you like a madman. The Brit blows out with a tired expression, as if he were giving up on all of humanity.

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.” Angling your head to aim a dirty glare, you silently flip him off as he uses your earlier words against you.

“Aren’t you tired, Lan? It’s been three years, let it go.”

The blue eyed boy musters a threatening look and then rips your sweet treat away from your grip, immediately claiming ownership. Your brows fly up with an offended scoff. He chugs it all down before shaking his curls adamantly. “No, I will not let it go. Bloody hell, you’re one stubborn gal—you can’t go through with this.”

For the shortest second, a ray of hesitance strikes your face when you spot your fiancé, happily indulging in a round of shots with Carlos, Max, and Daniel. The group laughs with amusement over something he says. Your lips wobble, turning back to your friend, shooting lasers. “Why not? And please don’t say—”

“Charles.” Somehow, even with the mention of his name, your world still manages to spin off its axis, alarming your remaining sanity. Last time you saw the Monegasque was quite the day, ending with regretful words and inferior decisions. Lando grimaces when you let out a shaky breath. “You know you haven’t gotten over him. And I can guarantee you that this…” He spins his index finger around the flashing room. “Will not make the difference you're hoping it will.”

Have you made your Christmas list? I told you I need it at least two weeks prior. I work well under pressure, but for God’s sake, honey, this is too much. Charles chuckles, cleaning his pair of Ray Bans against the hem of your skirt. You sigh.

Oui. Making his way over to his duffel bag, he retreats a crumpled up piece of paper. Oh, um, shit. The green eyed boy cringes with embarrassment, pouting modestly. You swallow the giggle sliding up your throat when he frowns furthermore. I swear I had it! It must've gotten crushed with all my stuff. You know what? Charles strolls over to the flight of stairs. I’ll just make a new one, give me a sec.

As soon as he leaves, you yawn, stretching out like a cat. You can’t help the fluffy feeling; Christmas always adds to it. But something about this one felt distinctively different and you couldn’t place the reason why.

Your orbs flicker across the dimly lit room before falling back to the thin piece of paper. Patting your palms on your thighs, you get up and delicately open it up, curiosity overflowing. It shouldn’t have mattered, he was going to re-write it anyways.

His calligraphy had always been messy, and yet you always—somehow—understood; from the start of his sentences to the final dot. But this had to be the one and only time you wish you weren’t so comprehensive.

I’ve been thinking about us

A lot recently, actually

I’ve had some thoughts over these past few weeks and

I think we should just end things.

You bat your eyes, already feeling the pressure forming behind, stinging harshly. Was this meant for you? For you to find? Had it been intentional the moment he pulled out the fucking note? Would he just not come back and was it all an excuse?

But he does. And his pale face answers all of your questions.

Oh fuck, what have you done?

Rage fuels within you as you briskly brush away the acid sliding down your burgundy cheeks, heat rushing through your body. What have I done? What the fuck is this bullshit, Charles?

The Monegasque instantly rushes over, trying to get ahold of the piece of paper. You rapidly pull it away and force a step back as you let out a wet chuckle. He winces at the cold sound. Why would you do that? Why did you do that?

So you’re not denying it? You wrote this? You knew he had, his writing was imprinted into your brain like a manuscript you had professionally studied endless hours.

His skin only loses more color with every passing second. I’m not trying to blame you! I did. I did write that—but that was so long ago, you have to believe me, and I can explain! He kneels down, silently pleading you to bless him with a spare minute. Just let me explain it all to you.

I never took you for a poet, you bitterly spit out as you continue skimming through the full page. You have a lot on your mind—a lot. Scanning his desperate state, you can’t help but let out a soft whimper, scrunching your nose.

I’m not, shit. He grips your thighs from where he is and lets out a set of shaky breaths. Do you remember when—

I don't want to remember, you let out. I just simply want to forget.

He can creepily hear the way your heart is breaking and how his follows along with every word, puncturing his soul. You don’t even notice his coming arm, taking half of the note away and you irritatedly pull back, causing it to rip in half.

That does it, bullying you down to the floor where you start to cry. Out of anger, out of betrayal, out of everything. The green eyed boy tries to soothe you, mumbling into your hair but you’re too busy zoning out that you don’t catch a single confession.

Leave.

Charles flinches; you can feel it as he presses close to you. What?

He almost doesn’t recognize you when you furiously push him off, crawling back with a sense of suffocation. Pain crosses his eyes as he watches you create distance. I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you here anymore—leave.

Anyone who knows Charles would know that he never gave up. He either spoke down on himself and pitied for a while, but never ever gave up. So this was a first. A tough pill to swallow.

If that's what you want me to do, then…okay. He stands up firmly, but inside he’s terrified that his limbs might call out for the day. But I love you. So don’t ever ask me to stop. And he walks out of your life after evilly twisting the knife.

With a new note and ring box deep inside his pocket.

Despaired eyes flicker over to where Charles eases into a conversation with Carmen and George, occasionally clenching his jaw. You hadn’t invited him—that’s just absurd—but he had gotten word from blabbermouth Pierre and you didn’t have the solidity to say no. From the looks of it, he didn’t want to be here either.

“Well I’ve got news for you, my dear friend, I love Hudson, so climb on board because this is happening…” Your voice trails off the second your ex looks up, as if he felt your eyes drawn onto him. Normally they’re dazzling and filled with joy, but the unfamiliar injured expression is like a punch to the gut. Your conscience calls you out on it, slapping you back into reality. Turning to Lando, you purse your lips tightly. “Who even is Charles?”

“God! When I saw Charles had showed up I just wanted to dig up a hole and never come out! Who would willingly go to their exes' engagement party?” Like a spinning top, you fume at Kika whose eyes shine at the sight of you, even after barking. “You should have warned me Pierre would do that. God, I hate that jerk sometimes.”

The Portuguese hums. “Me too…” You flick a questionable brow. Kika giggles, fixing your white gown, feathering it out like a dove. “I know, I should have! Bad friend, bad friend,” she childishly says. You can’t help rolling your eyes, returning your attention back to your reflection. “But if we’re being truthful here, someone should have warned Charles.”

“What are you talking about?”

Taking a quick sip of the complimentary champagne, she nods enthusiastically. “No one gave him a heads up. He thought it was just any other ordinary party—nowhere near a proposal.”

Your stomach churns, mortification taking over at the sudden report. Charles’ reaction was odd, but you couldn’t help filling up with satisfaction, climbing onto your high horse when you saw it. Never in a million years did you ever consider that being a surprise to him too. Hellooo? Coughing awkwardly, you swat her hand far away. Kika yelps.

“Yeah, well he deserves it.” You chug down the rest of her drink in a matter of seconds. Her wide eyes grow larger as she nervously giggles. “No one ever gave me a warning either.”

You were never one for being superstitious, but if anyone ever taught you something valuable, then it would be to never make contact with the groom before the wedding ceremony. He probably didn’t know any better—it of course wasn’t intentional—but that doesn’t stop your heartbeat from spiking up when you spot your fiancé sauntering over to where to stand.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss. Hudson furrows his thick brow. What are you talking about? I came to see you. You look fucking hot by the way. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shoo him, expensive jewelry clinking against one another. “Listen, that’s sweet and all, but you need to leave or else you’re going to ruin it!” You already did, the devil on your shoulder growls. You try relaxing, but can still feel the tenseness shifting between your shoulder blades. “Hudson, I’m dead serious, go.”

The stubborn brunette raises his arms in defense, mouthing a quick wow and walking back out. Were you being a tad bit colder than intended? Was there a better way to deal with the unwanted interaction? Yes. Probably. That’s what you tried to convince yourself because you knew the longer you pondered, the quicker you would realize that Lando was right.

You were making a mistake.

Charles isn’t any better off. He twists and turns the entire night, debating whether he should attend the occasion he knew would most likely make him flat line, but the curiosity definitely got to him. He always wondered what type of dress you would exclusively choose, perfect in every detail. Your hair, your heels. Your smile. Because they weren’t all the same. There was the kind that would sort of slip to a subtle, shy frown when he would compliment you, so he often saw lots of those. Or the kind that would cause your eyes to crinkle—he witnessed those when he would tickle you half to death, laughing loudly as tears would start to form. What he would kill to see you beam back at him once again…

But naturally, he talked himself out of it. What good does it do for him? The following morning, as he blinks strangely at the white wall, he starts to reminisce to himself. Like your first date—which was originally for both Carlos and Isa—but you both weaseled your way in. Or the time he taught you how to skate; only to remember he doesn’t know how to skate. He kept apologizing as the doctor secured your arm with a bright pink cast, but you only laughed, begging him to be the first to sign it. You were probably high off of meds, but still.

A peculiar feeling washes over as he spots an old shoe box. He almost dashes out of the arctic room when he realizes what it holds, but deliberately crunches down to open it.

And he knows what to do.

“He wants to see you,” Lily shrieks, peeking out into the hallway, then jumping back in. The teal dress was doing wonders for her skin tone, but you couldn’t help the agitation. Tell him I don’t want to see him. We have a whole lifetime to do that, you groan, slipping onto your heels.

Your bridesmaid clicks her tongue, widening the entrance as you hold back a much needed gasp. “I think you should tell him yourself…”

“I only need a minute,” Charles stammers, a thin layer of sweat coating his sharp nose. You’re too afraid to speak, so you robotically nod as you watch everyone scurry out, giving you two privacy. The twenty-six year old shyly gets closer, gently pinching a piece of paper in between his clammy grip. Your heart stops. “I walked beneath a ladder…on my way here,” he clarifies. You blink, long lashes fluttering like a fan. “I don’t think I’ll ever learn.”

If I had known you were this manly, I would’ve married you a lifetime ago. It slips out like a force of nature before you can stop yourself as your boyfriend halts from his task. The day was soon ending, late November, and you were both working together on painting the bedroom your dream shade. He had tried talking you out of it because it was simply—just white— but you had hounded him until he agreed. Now he stands here with a white coloring staining his dark gray shirt and you’ve never been happier.

Is that something you might want? Charles tries to play it cool, picking up from where he left off, lips itching into a goofy grin. To get married?

You’re almost glad he’s not facing you since you're as bright as a tomato. I won’t lie, I’ve definitely thought about it. You take a sip of water, suddenly caught with a dry throat. Could be nice.

The Monegaque flips around to face you, placing the paint roller down and strolling over to where you sit criss-cross. You visibly gulp; electricity slipping into the small room. It would be, wouldn’t it? His pink lips ghost over yours as you lean in a bit.

Yeah…

Could kiss you anytime I want… Kiss. Fuck you anytime I want… Another kiss. My fucking dream.

You moan against his touch, melting away like an ice cream sundae. I-I-I really think we could do it; be married. You had been together for so long now, you’re honestly surprised you hadn’t had this conversation any sooner. I would choose that exact same shade for my dress, you squeal, pointing at the wet wall. He hums. Not eggshell, not timid white—whipped cream, if you will.

Ahhhh, smart girl, he teases, nipping at your bottom lip. You practice this shit when I’m not around?

You laugh. I’ve been taught all kinds of tones from birth. My father was a painter himself, remember?

Of course I do, mon amour. He only created the best piece of art yet, he announces with a cheshire smile, watercolor eyes pointing down at you. You blush.

You’re such a klutz, you would probably do something stupid like walk underneath a ladder on our wedding day. You only do it every time, you say, wiggling out of his grip as he tickles you.

I swear I don't do that shit on purpose, it just happens, okay?

Pressing your nose against his, you cozily sigh. As long as we don’t see eachother until the actual ceremony, then I won’t be too upset.

Is that a promise?

You nod. That’s a fucking vow.

“You called it.”

Shifting uncomfortably, you chuckle when you nearly tip over. “Yeah, you’ve always been like that, but don’t think about it too much—it’s not like it’s your wedding.”

He clenches his sharp jaw. “Sure, but bad luck is bad luck, no? And I think I’m quite familiar with it.”

His words shouldn’t impact you so much years laters, but they do. Perhaps it’s due to his sorrowful stare, or his anxious tick, but it kills you just the same way it did that December night. You let out a light shudder, blinking away tears. “What do you want, Charles?”

“I wrote you a letter.”

God—a heartfelt note is the last thing you wanted and today was not the day to receive it either. Or ever. Not when it came from him. “I’m sorry, but it’s a bit too late for that. I’m about to be a married woman in approximately an hour.” You narrow your neat brows, flawless makeup shimmering against the sunbeams. “What gives you the right to walk back into my life, get shit off your chest for your own sake, and just for you to do what? Leave?”

You’re not being fair; not completely, but you can't help it. For the longest time, you thought you were over it, but clearly not. Charles licks his rosy lips, closing the gap between you two. “This isn’t something I just came up with.” He extends his arm out. “I wrote this three years ago.”

You inhale sharply, suspiciously eyeing the white paper. Please, just read it. Back then you could never turn him down, as much as you tried…

And it appears like today wasn’t any different.

It’s almost hilarious to think about how much you cried on your proposal date and how much you are now. You were a light rain at best when Hudson got down on one knee, but Charles stands here, tall, and you’re a complete waterfall.

“Y-you were going to ask me to…” A headache comes rolling in as you let out a wet cry. “This isn’t true; it isn’t real. You wrote this today and came here to fuck with me.”

The Monegasque shakes his head in panic, blood painting his higher cheekbones. “No—listen; the first letter you found, I did write that.” You grimace. “But I swear I took it back immediately. It’s just that you were getting so much hate during that time, and you would always cry, and then you’d say you were never crying…You were in a really dark place. Do you remember?”

How could you not? You knew not everyone was going to love you for dating one of the top Formula One drivers, but you never expected to read such brutal messages either. They were descriptive, and cruel, and ruthless, and it crushed you more than you’d like to admit. Which was fucking stupid since there was always a rather large community that loved and adored you, and Charles loved and adored you—and yet.

You release a shaky breath, desperately rubbing your eyelids. Lily would probably throw a fit at your now snotty and smudged makeup, but you couldn’t really think too deeply about any of that right now. “What does that have to do with anything?”

The brunette cradles your face and you hate when you lean into his warm touch. “I just wanted all of that to end; for you to feel better. And I could never actually say the words, so I drafted a letter, and I’m so fucking sorry, mon amour.” The tides crash inside your chest, getting harder to breathe. “It has been my biggest regret. Hurting you.”

He did more than hurt you; he broke you completely. Like a porcelain doll, like a trophy, like a mirrorball; it ruined you. But you know he knows that when his eyes slowly turn red. “But then I thought to myself, it doesn’t have to be that way! W-we could restrict comments, I could post something and stand up for the woman I love, and I could reassure her by vowing the most sacred thing there could ever exist…And I sat down and wrote this letter.”

If you thought Charles loved you before, then you’re a fool. He was utterly infatuated, devoted, obsessed and drowning in fervor. This letter may be old, slightly cutting loose around the edges, but it’s pinned as straight as can be. Not like the last.

“My only mistake was writing the first, and to even consider giving up on us. My best decision has been writing the second, and promising to stick by you the way I knew I was put on this Earth to do.” Charles carefully draws you in closer. “But I know nothing could ever fix the shit I’ve put you through, but I’m begging for the chance to try.” He kisses your temple and you relax against his lips. “I’m fucking desperate—just one.”

He slips out his original ring box and shines the gem back at you. It’s smaller than the one Hudson had given you, thinner too.

But it has you written all over.

A dizzy spell hovers over as you blink hastily. Charles doesn’t dare to breathe, waiting for you. “This isn’t…I just…” You bite your lower lip, glossy orbs flickering towards the band and then back at him. “Thank you for taking the time to apologize and clear things up; I really needed that, but I can’t do this.” You step out of his embrace, immediately freezing as if you were spending a winter in Iceland. His heart palpitates hysterically, green eyes skimming your features. “This isn’t what I had in mind—this isn’t what’s supposed to happen,” you press sternly.

“You’re right; it’s not.” Though you had just said the same, hearing him repeat it jams the knife deeper into your heart. You can hear chaos ensuing down the hallway, your friends chirping happily at one another. Contrary to what was going on in here. “It’s not because you can’t marry him. Because you know you don’t love him the way you say you do.” He laughs. “You tolerate him at best! I saw the way you avoided him getting down on one knee that day. You kept running off until you couldn’t anymore.” You burn up. “And who was the first person you looked for as he slipped that ring onto your finger? Me.”

“You’re paying too much attention to detail,” you retort, almost snarling.

“Sure, and that’s eggshell.”

It’s like a slap to the face. Your blurry vision focuses onto your dress for a second before snapping back up. “It’s whipped cream. The way I wanted.”

The Monegasque rolls his watercolor eyes, nostrils fuming. “Open up your eyes and see—It’s. Eggshell. Nothing about this is anything you ever dreamt of for your wedding! From your dress, to your ring, to your fucking fiancé!” He huffs. “This ring is all I could have afforded back then, but I would have sold my heart to get you a fucking star if that’s what you wanted…But you’ve always liked the simpler things. You always said you didn’t need a huge diamond to prove your devotion. Look at you now,” he says, signaling to your ring that swallows your hand whole. “All of this is fake.”

You’re sobbing now. You’re bubbling with anger. Because he was here, with you, out of all days. Because he was still the same man who broke your heart and stitched it back up.

Because he was right.

Brushing your nose with the back of your hand, you stare up weakly, defeated. “What do you want me to do?” you whisper, brows drawn together as he folds over completely over your goddess state.

“Don’t marry him and come with me.”

Though you knew that was what he wanted from the moment he walked past the door, it still knocked the last breath you held.

Things were never easy with him. There were constant fights—but that never seemed to matter by the end of the day. There was constant hate—but you always braved through it because you needed him.

And he steadied you. Charles was the first one to apologize, even if the majority of arguments weren’t his fault. Charles was the one who despite crushing his own heart, he wrote that letter to keep you untouched from his fans, from the media.

The letter hurt; like a motherfucker—and it would take a while to forgive…

But there’s no one else you would rather work through with it than with him.

Smiling softly, you nod, almost as if you can’t believe you’re actually doing this. Charles lets out a heavy exhale, laughing as he hugs you tightly, leaving you like a fish out on land. But you’re giggling through it all. “I have to talk to Hudson first, oh God, I have to talk to his family…” you shriek, pale and mortified.

“You know,” he starts. “We could skip all of that and just—”

“No,” you coldly press. Charles’ brows fly up. “I have to do this.” Distancing yourself from him, you wobble to the wooden door before looking back at the handsome man who stands proudly with his neat suit. Butterflies expand freely. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

With a single hand pressed against his heart, he nods, as if you held the keys to all gates. “I’ll be wherever you need me to be from now on.” With that, you grin, eyes crinkling and exit the room.

What happened to your makeup? Lily squeals when she spots you running down the hallway, tripping over her tall heels as Alex catches her. There better be a reasonable explanation to this!

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @val-writes

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delfiore · 1 month

Text

—I'LL NEVER WIN YOUR HEART.

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

synopsis: aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to alexia.

word count: 2k

tw: aNGST, spicy stuff, enemies to lovers to ……….?

a/n: wow has it really been a month since i last posted that's insane (i'm not being sarcastic i'm actually so shook at how fast time passes).

now playing:

Her eyebrows narrowed. Her jaw clenched. Her eyes lasered in like a hawk.

Even from across the club, several of your teammates knew to get the hell out of her way when she made a beeline towards you.

Alexia was scary when she was angry. There was an untouchable force to her that made one cower under her steely gaze. You used to feel the effect of it, once upon a time, but recently it was almost a weekly occurrence that she would direct her hardened gaze at you.

And now, as she fixed that deathly glare onto you, you felt your arm being yanked just as you were about to kiss the beautiful stranger you met mere minutes ago.

“What the fuck, Alexia!” Admittedly, you were buzzed, and any obstruction to your enjoyment would irritate you.

“Come with me,” she gritted her teeth.

“No! Let me go!”

She tugged on your arm and dragged you away despite your protests. The bathroom at the back of this club was filthy, and the door barely did anything to block out the thumping music outside, but Alexia pushed you into one of the stalls anyway, caging you in between her arms on either side of your head.

You had half a heart to slap her across the face when she shoved you against the divider and kissed you like a barbarian, lips and teeth clashing against one another in a heated mess. She had no right to do this, but her entitlement made it so you were trapped in her grasp again.

The worst part was that you enjoyed it, very much, especially when she went on her knees to do what she always did best.

It happened not too dissimilar to how it started. Your frustration mixed with her only ensured you both collided in the most spectacular way. You remembered arguing with her after a horrible game, both of you throwing blame at each other. It happened so quickly, that before you knew it, your hatred had turned to lust. Hatefucking, as one might call it. Suddenly, all you could think about each day was how much you hated Alexia and couldn't wait to fall into bed with her.

“You can’t just do that and pretend like nothing happened.”

Your words came out rushed as you were still trying to catch your breath. Alexia exited the stall and went to wash her hands, doing so with a frustrating nonchalance.

She met your gaze in the mirror. “Can’t I?”

You scoffed. “Why do I bother? La Reina never gets off her high horse, does she? You’ve never respected me, ever.”

“That’s not true.” Her eyes flickered, and you thought you could see unspoken words behind them.

“Then what was that earlier?” You asked, irritated.

“I should ask you the same question,” she said firmly. “I thought we were fine. And now I see you grinding on some girl at the club? I mean—what is this, Y/N?”

It was always like that with Alexia, and if she didn’t say what she wanted to say, then you couldn’t help her.

“It’s not like you care,” you gritted your teeth. “I hope you had fun with Olga, by the way.”

Now it was her turn to scoff. “She’s my friend.”

“She was also your ex.”

“Can’t I be friends with my ex? And who are you to tell me who I should and shouldn’t hang out with?”

She was right. You had no place in her life to be telling her that. It was purely your desire, or a lack thereof, to hold a special place in her heart, but maybe you were foolish to wish for it when there has been so much history between you.

You chewed on your bottom lip, a habit you had since you were young. You suddenly felt the bathroom walls closing in on you—you needed to get out of there quickly.

Wordlessly, you shoved past her and returned to the club, the music once again deafening and pumping in your chest. You expelled a breath; the cute stranger was nowhere to be seen, and neither were Patri and Pina, with whom you came. That’s fine, there was an entire nightclub’s worth of people. You would find at least one person who would make you forget how much you despised Alexia and—maybe for the night—how much you loved her.

The story could have gone so differently. You two were similar in age, grew within the ranks of the Spanish youth teams together, then played at Barcelona together. You both played in midfield and younger players looked to you for guidance and leadership. Yet, it was known among your teammates that the two of you couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Ever since you were young, your similar play styles and clashing personalities ensured that you always butt heads on the field, and eventually, off it too. You grew up with this hatred of Alexia, as she did of you, but you could barely remember why. You were brazen and Alexia was cold, and that never worked for either of you.

It seemed she had had enough of your attitude one day, and shoved you so hard in training you thought you might have sprained an ankle. Some of the other girls noticed her distaste for you and started to distance themselves to gain favor with her. Then, Alexia became the best player in Spain, and you were always in her shadow. The media called you her ‘healthy rivalry’, even when you played for the same club. If you didn’t hate her as much as you did, they all ensured that you would never be able to get along ever again.

There was a memory that you buried deep inside, but it would easily surface again on nights like this. It made you question everything you’ve felt for Alexia, this thorn in your side that has never let you know peace

It was the summer of 2012 at a Spain U-19 camp. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before you came because it was your first call-up to represent your country. Alexia, of course, had become a familiar face in the team by the time you arrived. She wasn’t seen at breakfast one morning, and a coach said that she was dealing with personal matters. What you didn’t anticipate was finding her sitting alone by the steps of an entrance bawling her eyes out. You had tried to retreat, but Alexia had looked up before you could go.

“S-Sorry, I’ll just—”

“Mi papá . . .” Her voice was quiet like she didn’t want you to hear. Then, she burst into tears again. You had never seen Alexia like this, so distraught and vulnerable. The friends she liked to keep around were nowhere to be seen either. She never liked to appear weak in front of others.

Against your better judgment, you approached and sat next to her. “What happened?”

Exhaling shakily, she answered. “He was very sick. I just got the call from my mom.”

Your mouth hung open, unable to form words. As Alexia smeared her tears away with the back of her sleeve, she suddenly appeared younger and unlike the captain that you’ve come to know her. She was just a girl, who’d had something terrible happen to her, and you would be the biggest jerk not to push whatever you had between you aside.

“I’m sorry,” you only managed to say.

She said nothing and rested her face on the inside of her elbows.

“I’m sure he was very proud of you.”

“Please don’t say anything,” she breathed out, making you wince.

“Okay.”

Alexia sniffled. “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. You didn’t like talking about your feelings either. It was the first thing you found Alexia and you had in common.

You started to feel sick. Your head spun like you had just stepped out of a washing machine, but still, you reached for the passing bartender who looked at you with patronizing eyes.

“Another.”

“Y/N, that’s enough.”

You pushed her hand away, mentally cursing at her interruption.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m gonna have to explain to Jona why you’re still shitfaced at training tomorrow.”

“Fuck. Off. I don’t fucking care.”

Then, you heard her say something she had never said to you before. “Please. Let’s go home.”

The truth was, you never wanted to protest her. Maybe the years have softened you, but you didn’t want to admit how much you craved her affection. There were times when you despised her and thought her the lowest form of a human being.

“Please don’t do this,” you pleaded. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, as you watched her frantically spring out of bed.

“I—uh, have to go. I’m meeting someone for lunch.” She replied, reaching for her pants strewn across the floor.

“Ale, I’m sorry . . .” You managed a pathetic whimper, tears threatening to fall. “Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

How is it that she had made you feel so euphoric merely moments later, and now you felt like you had hit rock bottom? Only because those stupid words slipped out of your mouth.

. . . But was it such a crime to tell her that you loved her, when it was your truth?

You learned the hard way that Alexia didn’t want what you wanted. Maybe it was just her, or maybe it was you, and she didn’t want anything to do with you. If that were true, you were foolish to think for even a second that she would. You never gave her much to like anyway.

But still, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t have any feelings for her. But aside from endless hatred and devastating love, you don’t know anything else when it comes to Alexia.

She had brought you back to your apartment, supporting you by holding you close and guiding you inside gradually.

The moment you hit the mattress, you groaned at the snugness of your own bed. Your eyes were barely open, but you saw the way she pulled your shoes off your feet and coaxed you to sit up so she could shed your outer coat.

But that was it. She was afraid to help you further, as it would resurface emotions Alexia thought should be buried, emotions that reminded her of sleepless nights and passion.

“Why are you so quick to get away from me?” You mumbled into your pillow.

You heard her sigh. “I brought you home, didn’t I?”

“Am I really that detestable that you wouldn’t even look at me?”

Her eyes met yours, but unlike earlier in the night, they now held a softness. “You know I don’t hate you. I never did.”

“Then stay.” You whispered, your head still spinning, but all you could focus on was her. “Stay with me. Please, we won’t do anything. I just don’t want to be alone.”

You didn’t care that you were begging her. You were tired of being pulled from end to end, and it was so much easier to love than to hate her.

You thought she would laugh in your face, pack her things and leave. Yet, when you opened your eyes again, she was lying in bed next to you, under the cover and all. She had changed into your clothes, so much more time had passed than you had thought.

“Go to sleep. We have training tomorrow,” Alexia whispered, her lips brushing your forehead softly.

You obliged, nuzzling your head into her chest as you let the comfort of her embrace lull you to sleep. You were too tired to fight it, to tell her no, that you would talk to her seriously about the two of you, even if you were drunk. It wasn’t the first time you had fallen for Alexia’s lies; all the other times, she left you in the dirt after giving you her everything for you to pick up the pieces yourself.

You hated her because you loved her. But maybe this is enough, you thought before sleep took over, just for tonight.

Maybe tomorrow will be different.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagines #woso angst #Spotify

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kingtomura · 1 month

Text

Arcade

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3

You meet him on a Friday.

The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up.

Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears.

The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched.

You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it.

The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.

You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.

“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Irritating.

You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”

He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you.

This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes.

To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud.

The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”

You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”

He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it.

“No thanks.”

This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course.

But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one.

You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage.

You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration.

“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again.

He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies.

The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”

He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun.

“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.

Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.

You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon.

It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment.

He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun.

Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral.

It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies.

Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot.

The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t.

You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.

Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him.

“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.

It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen.

You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”

He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears.

“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again.

“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round.

“Sure.”

And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.

—---------------------

The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.

The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions.

“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close.

Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.

The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.

You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain.

“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.

“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.

Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”

“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”

“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”

“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.

“Fine, I'll try it.”

Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune.

“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.”

Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely.

It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both.

“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face.

You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, ��Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.”

“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.

“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.”

“I could beat you at other games.”

This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.”

You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.”

The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”

You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.”

He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.

Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience.

You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last.

The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not.

“Oh, come on!” You shout.

“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win.

Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line.

Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again.

He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”

“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.

“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.”

“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”

Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.”

The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that.

“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place.

It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up.

“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment.

Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”

His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.

“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm.

Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks.

You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation.

But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?

“Do you want to go another round?”

“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”

You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute.

It's settled. You hate this man.

His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.

“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head,

“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now.

“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?”

You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.

“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you.

“I know why.”

You brace yourself for mortification.

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.”

He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you.

He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes.

God, maybe he’s an idiot.

You want to kiss him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”

There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice.

“Sure.”

The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match.

“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up.

You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.

You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.

“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.

“Um, home? It’s getting late.”

“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”

You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.

So you do.

And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.

“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.

“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.”

Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”

You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up.

The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.

“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”

“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.

You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”

The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.

Or kiss him.

Whichever came first.

Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone.

That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed.

Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out.

“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room.

You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely.

“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.

“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips.

It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him.

He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties.

It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there.

Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today.

He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch.

But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out.

“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure.

“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver.

Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”

Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt.

“Get this off.”

You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do.

No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices.

There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine.

It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made.

Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer.

He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more.

You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.

Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours.

Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze.

“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious.

You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”

Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”

The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other.

“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?”

You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words.

There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?”

His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.”

Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake.

“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.

Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.

Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”

You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”

Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties.

“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”

And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close.

It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there.

Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild.

You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm.

Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release.

“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”

“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side.

You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them.

You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you.

It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation.

He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation.

“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.

“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”

And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket.

You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..?

“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head.

His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.”

And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out.

He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation.

“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip.

Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves.

The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure.

It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again.

You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax.

“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh—

You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you.

It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.”

You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you.

You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance.

The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt.

The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch.

Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined.

“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.”

Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.

You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.

“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside.

“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again.

Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.”

You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.”

And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words.

You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder.

The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today.

“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”

You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family.

And they were loving! Loving and observant.

You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet.

Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out.

It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent.

You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.

“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”

And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”

Oh, god. They knew.

“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”

Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle.

“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”

Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.”

The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you.

“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”

You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you.

It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.

—-------------------------

And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you.

The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy.

It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child.

Even though you’re an adult.

Even though you can make your own decisions about your life.

It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off.

You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture.

“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”

“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way.

There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand.

“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”

Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”

She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.”

It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex.

They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.

“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”

Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?”

They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it.

To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall.

The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor.

How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks.

Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning.

It’s been a week.

A long, boring, drawn-out week.

You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried.

It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long.

You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely.

Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around.

You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone.

So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.

You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.

Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence.

It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you.

It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together.

There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.

You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind.

But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you.

Tomura.

He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization.

“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears.

You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.

“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by.

You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”

“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”

The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you.

“Then don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”

Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?”

There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours.

It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut

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localcoffeeshop · 8 months

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Imagine being princess bubblegum in the winter king universe. You have probably never had any bitches, not a Single one. Instead there's an ugly old ice bitch next door. then one day he does something and you snap and get all nasty, you get heterophobia in your eyes AND your lesbianism evaporates and you start uncontrollably lusting for your bitch MAN neighbour whos now super-hot and classy as fuck Brian David Gilbert. and then you mutilate all your candy citizens to be ugly and nasty as fuck like you and you start acting up and it goes on for like one hundred entire years until he acme laser gun disintegrates into ashes after kissing a woman which restores your sanity so you're normal again and you go kiss the woman who just killed the guy who made you a heterosexual unbathed freakazoid. and then you learn she also murdered and further mutilated all your candy citizens so now you're alone. no friends, no citizens, no vampire girlfriend (LOSER!!), not even an enemy to hate on, and the one girl you tried to true-love's-kiss just fucked off into the aether with a sad normal alternate version of the guy who did all that wacky shit to you. wow. What a horrible life. i would literally jump into the giant blender and hope it kills me

#adventure time #fionna and cake

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inbrightshadows · 10 months

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*sticks one arm out from under my rock, slips this into the tag, and retreats back under my rock* Inspired by the cass apocalyptic series by somerandomdudelmao It's a very very cool rottmnt fancomic and you should give it a read 👉👈🥺 (Not canon but you might recognize some parts/dialogue from the comic) [warning for implied/referenced past infant death but no actual infant death (the boy is fine dw), infected wounds, amputation, and a dog like creature biting someone]

The first time Casey Jr almost dies he's about three months old, by their best guess, and he's only been Casey Jr for a week.

Cassandra and Raph go out on a supply run, which is normal. They come back with a baby in a box, which is not.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there's no such thing as government or paperwork in the apocalypse. So there's nothing stopping Cassandra from saying “I found him in an alley so he's my son now, his name is Cassandra Jr.” And that's that.

Thankfully, this isn't the resistance's first baby so there's plenty of formula and hand me downs to supply Cassandra in her sudden status as a Mom. And everything else the family quickly supplies.

Donnie is very uninterested in babysitting the oozy crotch goblin but Casey Jr's crib still has the genius built logo and built in laser security system to prove he cares in his own way.

Mikey breaks into his carefully rationed paint supply to paint a small mural above the crib and takes every chance to babysit he can.

And Raph? Well Raph dives headfirst into the roll of co-parent slash halway blockade.

Then there's Leo.

In his own words, he has a whole resistance to babysit. And besides that there’s not much he can really do other than what he’s already doing.

Fight the krang, stop the war, give little Casey Jr a better world to grow up in. And also avoid everyone’s efforts to get him to hold the baby.

He is not cut out for tasks that require a delicate touch but it seems like he’s the only one who understands that. He’s a gigantic mutant ninja turtle who, unlike his brothers, has never had any kind of hobby that requires any kind of delicacy. So he hangs back, he keeps an eye out for things that will be useful to the Caseys while he’s out on the surface, and he waves away attempts to hand Jr to him.

And then Casey Jr gets sick.

It should be fine. Should be normal. Babies are delicate little things, getting sick is a thing they do. Except there’s not much the way of medicine in the apocalypse. And babies are delicate.

It starts as a low grade fever. By the end of the day it’s a raging bonfire. They have a lot of things but medicine is in short supply. Nothing they have is working. It’s just Casey Jr, sobbing his heart out on Raph’s shoulder while Cassandra hovers and Raph tries to soothe all three of them.

There’s nothing Leo can do to help. They don’t have the medicine they need to treat the fever. At least not something safe to use on a baby. Raph is the one who remembers how Dad used to use lukewarm baths to break their fevers when they were little and he was still too scared to try human medicine on them. It helps enough that they can get some formula into the kid. But it’s not fixing things.

Two days pass and the fever refuses to break. The baths are becoming less and less helpful. After the third refused feeding attempt that afternoon Donnie slams down a map of ‘areas most likely to contain useful information or materials for treating a sick baby.’

Leo and Mikey gear up and head out leaving Donnie to monitor things back at base while April takes charge of running everything else so that Raph is free to help Cassandra take care of Jr.

It’s bad luck, really, that a pack of krang dogs find their camp on the first night. It should be fine. They should be able to handle it.

But bad luck is bad luck.

Leo sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He moves to dodge and the ground underneath him decides now is a perfect time to give way.

“LEO!” Mikey yells as Leo tumbles away into the dark.

Leo grunts, biting back a scream as the Krang dog’s teeth sink into his arm. They tumble into the dark together, bouncing down the stacks of rubble. It’s dead by the time he lands but the damage is done.

The good news is that the fall kept the dog from getting a good grip on him.

The bad news is that even if the bite won’t infect him with Krang regular infections are different story. Krang zombies have foul mouths.

Mikey can’t find out it managed to bite Leo. If he does he’ll want to go back and get Leo treatment before they look for the medicine.

And right now every second could mean the difference between getting medicine to Casey Jr in time or adding to their graveyard.

So Leo makes sure that by the time Mikey makes it down to him his first aid kit is a good bit lighter and any sign of the bite is hidden beneath his normal arm wraps.

When Mikey finds him Leo smiles and doesn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around his little brother.

“Are you okay- did it bite you?” Mikey asks, darting around him to hunt down every last scrape.

“Nah, just a couple of scratches,” Leo lies. “Let me heal them-” “No, we’ve got a ways to go, I won't risk you wearing yourself out too soon.” “Leo!” “I already used my first aid supplies on them! It’d be a waste if you healed me now!” Mikey glares at him but huffs and nods. “Fine! But if they start to feel bad-” “I’ll tell you, don’t worry,” Leo lies again.

Day two is a bust. There's useful supplies in the area Donnie marked out for them to search, sure, but nothing that will help Casey Jr. Or the sensation of a burn throbbing its way up Leo's hidden bite wound.

Leo and Mikey mark out where the useful things are and keep going. Someone can go back for them when they're less pressed for time.

That night Leo waits for Mikey to fall asleep before he checks the bite. It's bad.

The moment the bandages come off he's gagging at the putrid stink of infection. It's hard to see it in the dark but then again he's not sure he really wants a better look. It wouldn't change his mind anyway.

He can make out the dark veins of infection spreading. If he wasn't green it'd certainly be a violent red.

He cleans it, spreads a thin layer of disinfectant cream that will do about as much good as throwing a cup of water at a bonfire, and re-bandages it.

His usual arm wraps go up over top of it, hopefully Mikey won't notice he's done them a bit higher than normal.

All the evidence goes into the fire. By the time Mikey's turn to take watch comes all that's left is ash.

On day three Leo wakes up feeling like someone dropped a building on him. He makes the mistake of groaning about it.

“Leo? Are you okay?” Mikey asks. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just, uh, I think I’m inheriting Dad’s back problems! That or the Krang made the ground harder.” Mikey snickers. “I mean, they would, but I’m also pretty sure you just called yourself old.” “I did not!” Leo drags himself upright and makes a show of cracking his back. It obliges with a satisfyingly loud pop that makes Mikey giggle harder. “I think your spine disagrees with you too.” “Shut up!” “Awwww are you feeling cranky, old man?”

Leo is too exhausted to feel properly offended or even think of forming a comeback but he plays it up for his little brother anyway.

Anything to keep him from worrying. Or forcing them to turn back. It’s fine. This shouldn’t take too much longer anyway.

It’s midday by the time they reach the second site. Just from a glance it’s obvious this is a more promising site. There are actual chunks of buildings scattered around and there’s enough of a shattered sign left lying around to tell them that whatever kind of care this place used to give it was geared specifically towards children.

There’s plenty to find digging through the rubble. Well. Plenty for Mikey to find. Leo is mostly trying not to let on how dizzy he is.

To both of their frustration, they run out of daylight before they find anything. Leo can feel his body screaming at him to lay down and rest. Just a little longer, he tells his body. They’re going to find the medicine. He can feel it. Leo just needs to make it at least that long.

The fourth day dawns. Mikey shakes him awake as soon as there’s enough light ot see by. Leo bites back a moan as he claws his way upright. Leo thought his arm hurt before but now it feels like someone is pouring lava down it.

He notes with a calmness that boarders on absurdity that he can’t feel his fingers.

Something must show on his face- or maybe he just looks at least halfway as awful as he feels- because Mikey frowns at him when he wakes up.

“I’m worried,” Leo blurts out. “If this takes much longer then- I don’t think- he’s already been sick for so long.” “We’ll find it. Today, I’m sure. I’ve got a good feeling.” Leo tries to smile for him and hopes the shaky thing he offers up is enough. Well. At least one of them is feeling good.

Leo is lucky. He’s always been lucky. Luck runs out eventually, it always does. But not today. Maybe it helps that Leo isn’t hoping for something for nothing. Because on day four they strike gold.

Mikey is a short bit away, digging through the rubble with his power, hunting for anything with even the chance of helping. Leo is doubled over just out of his site, trying to stifle his stomach’s efforts to rebel against him.

Don’t hurl, he tells himself, if you hurl there’s no way Mikey won’t realize something is wrong.

He forces his eyes open, hoping that focusing on something will help. And then Leo’s eyes fall on a shattered glass cabinet, several packs of some something promisingly adorned in cartoon human children. He reaches in, flips it, and feels a wash of relief when he realizes it’s exactly what they’re looking for.

“Mikey- Mikey look-” everything fuzzes, tumbles. There’s something under him. He blinks back blurs of color, tries to resolve them into something coherent. Mikey’s face hovers over him, mouth moving. He looks upset. “What's the matter?” he tries to ask. “Leo! Leo, are you sick? What hurts?” “Arm,” Leo answers without thinking.

Oh shit. Oh shit he’s not supposed to let Mikey know. But it’s a little late for that. At least the panic clears his head a little. Mikey makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as he uncovers the bite.

“Leo.” “Yeah, I know. Sorry… sorry for lying.” He watches Mikey’s lip wobble until Mikey catches it in his teeth. “Leo this is bad! We- I don’t know if we have the supplies to treat this!” Leo hums. Now that the panic is fading it’s getting so much harder to think. He lifts his good hand before he can forget and flops it over towards Mikey. “S’okay. We can go back now.” Mikey takes the box of medicine with shaky fingers. “Leo,” he croaks.

Mikey is talking. Something… probably important? He looks scared but they’re not under attack. He’s pretty sure they’re not. Leo tries to focus on him anyway but it’s so hard. He’s so tired.

He’s been tired but there was no resting, not properly, not until they got what they needed. They do now so it’s fine, he can rest his eyes a bit.

Good. Seeing is hard too. Just blurs and colors.

He feels Mikey’s hand on his face, his voice in his ears. He tries to pay attention but he’s slipping, sliding away.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but he’s out before he can think of what, specifically, he’s sorry for.

Leo doesn’t remember the trip back, just the thud of Mikey landing. Someone screaming. A hand squeezing his. Small. Thin fingers. Lots of them.

“April?” he might mumble. He thinks. “Shhh, rest big guy,” Probably-April says. “Donnie has it. He’s gonna fix it.” Oh. That’s good. He lets himself sink, lets her hold him together while he waits for Donnie to do what Donnie does best.

A light in his face. “Am I dying?” he says. Thinks? Someone hisses. Angry sound. Who does that again? “Not if I have anything to say about it. And I have a lot to say about it.” Oh. Donnie is here. That’s good. Didn’t someone say he was coming? “Now go to sleep, you don’t want to be awake for this part.” Leo doesn’t get a chance to answer, he’s already sinking again.

Leo blinks up at the ceiling of Donnie’s lab. He spends a good while just staring at it, trying to get his brain to work. His arm throbs. “Ow.”

Some several things crash and shatter and then Donnie''s face hovers into view. “How do you feel- nauseous? any pain, aches, fever? Chills?” “Uh, my arm hurts a little?”

“Which one? The one that got bit by one of the most disease ridden things in the apocalypse and then went four days without medical care or the other one?” “Hey I did some medical care!” “You did FIRST AID. You know, the thing you do to help someone before you get them ACTUAL MEDICAL CARE.”

Leo winces. There’s no arguing about that one. “Ok well, I was hoping we’d find the medicine and get back before it got too bad.” “Well. You didn’t.” “Yeah, I guess. How long was I out?” he asks. He tries to lift his arm but he can’t feel it move. He frowns. “It… barely hurts anymore. Uh. Donnie? I can’t- Um. Donnie. I can’t feel my arm.”

Donnie’s face twitches. Leo tries to turn his head to look at his arm. Donnie’s hand darts out out to stop him. Leo looks at Donnie again. Donnie looks away, grimacing and refusing to make eye contact.

“Donnie-” “Don’t look yet.” Leo tries to move his arm again but there’s still no response. No it’s not just that there isn’t a response. He can't even feel the weight of it.

He can feel his shoulder. He can feel a ring of throbbing pain a few inches above his elbow. And then it’s just… light? Like there’s nothing but air- oh. Oh. Okay then. There’s where his luck ran out. “...Huh. That’s. Hm. Let me see?” “Leo-” “Donnie. Let me see.” Reluctantly, Donnie eases back.

For a second Leo doesn’t do anything. He closes his eyes and breathes. He turns his head. He opens his eyes.

It’s gone.

Everything past his first crescent marking is gone.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep, measured, breath. Okay, he thinks. Okay. He’s a medic. He knew this was a possibility. Donnie starts eyeing him nervously.

“Did he make it?” Leo asks at last. “...Yeah he made it,” Donnie says quietly. Leo feels like he's fully breathing out for the first time since Cassandra burst into the infirmary with a sick baby in her arms. "Good. That's good." Donnie puts his hand over the end of Leo's nub, covering the scar. He stares at the floor and says nothing. Silence reigns. Leo stares up at the ceiling, letting it settle around them.

Until the door slams open and the rest of his family tumble through the door, both Caseys included.

The last knot of tension loosens from him at the sight of Casey Jr, happily wiggling in his mom’s arms as he flails his arms at Raph.

He tears his eyes away as his family gathers around him, worried and loud, and Leo only knows one way to calm them down.

“So. I’m guessing I'm the opposite of... All Right now, huh?” Cassandra covers Casey Jr's ears. Donnie leans away, inhaling sharply. “Why are you like this?“ he asks. “Because it's all I've got... Left” Raph groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Already?” “Put him back under,” April says, deadpan. “Boooo,” Mikey says, and Leo pretends he doesn’t sound two steps away from tears. “I hate you so much,” Donnie lies, a few screens manifesting around him. He taps away with the hand that isn't still covering the scar on what remains of Leo's arm while Leo laughs at his own terrible jokes.

“You no longer have a choice about getting a prosthetic. Mikey tried to say I had to ask before implanting experimental technology in your body but you know what? I’m making an executive decision. I can’t live with the puns.”

Leo starts laughing harder, so hard that it circles right back around to sobbing. He’s buried in a pile before the first sob can even fully leave him. Donnie’s eyes stay on the screen even as he shifts his hand to Leo’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”

Leo spends a lot of time sleeping but he’s never alone when he wakes up.

There’s Raph, showing off the balls he’s threading onto his mask tails so Casey Jr can climb them while Cassandra sits nearby, once more restitching her perpetually tearing sleeves on her shirts.

He wakes to Mikey making little fish or birds dance in the air while Casey Jr sits in his lap and reaches for them.

Or there’s April pouring over battle plans with a mug in one hand and the other wrapped around Casey Jr.

Point is there’s a lot of Casey Jr. So Leo really should be prepared to wake up with a tiny weight on his chest, healthy and safe and sound. And still so very tiny. His breath hitches, he doesn’t dare move.

“Bemused scoff.”

Leo carefully turns his head toward where Donnie is busily typing away at something.

“You know you can’t avoid holding him forever. Even I've held him." Leo gives Donnie the flattest look he can manage. Sure. Donnie has held Casey Jr. Once in a blue moon when there was literally no one else to do it (and Leo's hands were firmly tucked under his arms.) For about sixty seconds total. "...I've held him more than you have.”

Leo grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t cut out for holding delicate stuff when I had two arms. It’s an even worse idea now that I’m twice as likely to drop him.”

“Invalid excuse. I’m already working on a solution to your arm situation.” Donnie waves his hands and his ninpo sparks, building a blue print of an arm and some other thing hovering in the air between them.

“These are the schematics for a bio-mechanical arm and a socket implant to allow it to safely interface with your nero-” Leo’s brain glazes over the rest of Donnie’s explanation.

“...So you want to turn me into a kick ass cyborg?” he asks as soon as Donnie is done. “Did you listen to none of what I just said?” “C’mon, Don, I’ve got you for all the nerd stuff.” “Exasperated sigh, yes I’m turning you into a kick ass cyborg.” “Sweet,” Leo says, yawning. Donnie huffs. “Go back to sleep, Nardo.” “Can’t, baby could fall,” Leo mumbles. “I won’t let him fall. Just rest.” And Leo trusts his brother. So he does.

It takes a frustratingly long time for Leo to recover enough for the surgery to implant the port for the arm in his stump. It’s more low profile than he expected, hardly noticeable at all unless you’re looking head on at it.

Then there’s a whole other saga of learning how to use the arm Donnie has built him. It’s clunkier than Donnie’s preferred standards but it works almost as seamless as his real one. He gets good with it and he gets good with it fast because with the Krang you either do it fast or you don’t do it all.

The unintended and unwanted side effect of this is that now his family are no longer accepting “I’m not good enough with my arm I might drop him” as a valid excuse to not hold Casey Jr.

And they are very, very, intent on getting him to hold Casey Jr.

Look. Leo is thanking sweet pizza supreme in the sky and every one of the Hamato ancestors, Casey Jr bounces back from being sick like it never happened.

He bounces and wiggles, he babbles and giggles, as though less than a week or so ago he wasn’t so sick that Leo and his family (literally) risked life and limb to get him medicine. And Leo is thrilled. Really.

It’s just that he wishes his family would stop encouraging Casey Jr’s newest favorite game- trying to grab Leo. Because apparently one of any baby’s favorite thing is whatever they can’t have.

“Here! Hold him!” Mikey holds Casey out so that he faces Leo. Casey Jr, who seems to have a sixth sense for when someone is playing the 'try to get Casey close enough to touch Leo' game, is thrilled. His tiny arms wave at Leo, itty-bitty fingers clenching like they’re ready to latch on the second they’re close enough to touch him.

“W-wait, I can’t!” Leo protests for the thousandth time. But Mikey isn’t taking no for an answer this time. A nudge of mystic power keeps Leo from fleeing. All Leo can do is tuck his dangerous un-baby proofed metal arm away from tender baby skin and wave his flesh hand pleadingly.

“C’mon Leo… you have to hold him eventually.” Mikey cajoles, gently waggling Casey Jr.

“Not happening, no way.” Leo leans back as far as Mikey’s powers will let him.

“Yes way,” Mikey says, holding Casey closer and closer. Casey is giggling furiously, tiny arms flying at top speed.

“Do you even see how tiny he is?” Leo points at the baby, just in case Mikey needs a reminder. “I could break him with one finger!” There’s a tiny nudge to said finger. Leo looks down. Casey Jr is copying him, nudging Leo’s much larger finger with his own.

Mikey gets a look on his face. A terrible, evil, look.

“One finger? Like thiiiiis one?” Mikey grins as he lifts his middle fingers away from Casey Jr’s body. Leo freezes. “Mikey. Mikey no.”

“Whats that? Oh nooooo.... I can’t hear you over the sound of my grip slipping!” Mikey sing-songs. “Don’t you dare!” Leo stares at him, horrified and frozen. He won’t. Surely he won’t. Cassandra would murder him. Raph would double murder him. He wouldn't. Right? Right??? “Oh no! I hope someone catches the poor delicate baby!” And then Mikey drops Casey Jr.

Leo shrieks. He forgets that Mikey is literally magic and does not need his hands to hold a building, much less a baby.

“Mikey what the fuck!” Leo squawks, hands flying forward and closing around the tiny delicate bundle that is- … not falling towards the ground at all actually.

The gears turn, the realization that he's been tricked sets in. Leo glares at Mikey. Mikey grins, unrepentant, and waves his faintly glowing hands, a glow also present around a perfectly safe Casey Jr. The glow vanishes and Leo feels the surprisingly greater weight of the baby properly in his hands for the first time.

“Ahhhh Mikey- Mikey take him back!” Mikey stubbornly keeps his hands in the air and backs away, still grinning. “You’re fine, you’ve got this.” “I don’t have this!” in spite of saying this Leo is already tucking Casey closer to him. “It’s fiiinnne, you're doing fine! Look, he’s having a great time!”

Tiny clumsy fingers hit his jaw, drawing his eyes down. Casey Jr has one hand buried in Leo’s scarf. The other is pressed to the highest part of Leo’s face it can reach. As he looks down they stretch up, reaching for the vibrant red markings on his face.

“Ah- what- what does he want?” “Awww he likes your stripes, hold him higher!”

Hesitantly, Leo shifts the baby a little higher in his arms and Casey’s little fingers smack against his markings, clenching against them as best the pudgy little things can. Leo chuckles. “What? You want those? Hate to break it to you bud but they’re kind of attached to me.” Big dark eyes lock onto his. Casey Jr babbles. His little fingers flex against Leo’s face again.

Someone makes a noise like a slowly deflating balloon. Leo looks up to find Raph has found them. He’s standing in the doorway, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Please tell me Donnie has a good angle on this,” he says, voice wobbling. Raph’s com clicks on and switches itself to speaker mode. “Sending you the best shots as I speak,” says Donnie’s voice. “I hate all of you,” Leo lies. Mikey snickers at him, Raph is too busy cooing to reply. And then Casey Jr realizes Raph is there and decides he’s done being held by Leo. He leans his entire body toward Raph and puts all of his tiny baby might into wiggling free of Leo's grip.

“Oh fuck-” “Don’t cuss in front of the baby!” “Raph. Raph.” “You’re doing fine, relax-” “He’s gonna fall! I’m gonna drop him- Raph!” Raph easily scoops Casey Jr up, saving Leo from the terrifying force of a wiggly baby.

Casey Jr giggles and grabs for Raph’s mask tails while Leo dramatically flops to the floor. Mikey continues to snicker at Leo’s expense, floating over to pat his head.

“I can’t believe you pretended to drop him just to trick me into holding him,” Leo groans. “You what?” Raph’s head snaps over to them. Mikey freezes. “I had mystic hands on him the whole time!” “Baby holding is a two hand activity!” “You literally hold him with one hand!” “Raph’s hand is big enough to count as two!” “Oh that is so not fair!” “... Leo watch the little man for a minute.” Raph sets Casey Jr down by Leo’s head. Leo makes an inarticulate sound of horror but before he can protest Raph is already bolting for Mikey.

Mikey flees with a yelp. Leo looks at Casey Jr. Casey Jr looks at him. “So, you come here often?” Casey Jr stuffs his fist in his mouth and makes a garbled noise around it, almost recognizable as a very turtle like chirp. Leo checks that his brothers are out of ear shot and then chirps back. Casey Jr’s eyes widen and sparkle. He takes his damp hand out of his mouth and smacks Leo in the face with it. Leo grimaces. “Thanks.” In the distance, Mikey screams as Raph catches him but it's just as quickly followed by laughter.

Casey Junior grows up in between loss and stolen joy and forgotten childhood memories. He gets old enough to ask questions. Inevitably, the day comes when he asks “Sensei, how did you lose your arm?”

And Leo lies.

Or, well… He doesn’t lie so much as he just… leaves out some details. Details Casey Jr does not and will not ever know if Leo gets his way.

“Ah, you know… Krang dog got a lucky bite in. By the time I got back to base it was the arm or me and Donnie chose me.” He says it with a light little shrug, like it’s no big deal.

Because for Leo, it’s not a big deal. Between losing an arm and losing family he’d chose the arm over and over again.

#rottmnt #Cass apocalyptic series #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt future leo #I did not mean for this to be so long help #ahhhh i hope this is ok and doesn't come off as weird or anything #Originally it was just going to be Leo's family tricking him into holding the baby but then I got an Idea #and then the idea got Really Really big...#my writing

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blue-jisungs · 5 months

Text

love shot

summary. seungcheol loves playing cupid for you and jihoon because of you two dislike each other

warnings. good ol' e2l but also a mafia-ish setting so the usual: guns, gunshots, blood, cursing, telling people to die. also suggestive at some points !

word count. 7k-ish

author's note. idk whats this but enjoy!!! big shoutout to my beloved @wheeboo for proofreading and correcting my silly mistakes!!! ilysm mwah thank u from the bottom of my heart <333 ++ thank u @weird-bookworm for inspiring me like i wrote 5k of this in one sitting bc of u 🫵

the air in the room was heavy, everyone waiting in anticipation. there was some chatter, only from the most talkative members of the group, yet it was very quiet. the others like you, jihoon, or wonwoo sat in silence staring at the wooden table.

suddenly the door opened and seungcheol came in, dressed in a black coat and his luxurious watch.

this immediately stopped all noise and caused all eyes to look at him.

“our plug just gave us the information that the group is meeting up at an abandoned factory. we’re still waiting for the precise location but i want you all to be ready” he announced, voice stern. the leader of the group scanned all the faces “we suspect it’s the old factory that used to produce cigarettes. since it’s quite big, we’ll need to divide into groups. i’ll also call for backup if my suspicions turn out to be true”

you nodded, eyes scanning a board behind seungcheol’s back. it had all the evidence and necessary photos but by now – because all of the six months you’ve been trying to catch this criminal group – you knew all their faces by heart.

you were a crime fighting organization, one would call it the fbi. but you weren’t really… a government official. you often switched groups, just depending on who’s running low on staff.

some groups, like the one you’ve been working with, had their permanent squad. only because their leader seungcheol (nickname s.coups) had been injured, you were called in to replace him. maybe not in leader duties but your combat abilities were very similar to his… which gained respect amongst the organization.

you liked working with seventeen – that was their group name. they were all unique and special in different ways but also talented, skilled, and laser focused on their task.

you even got to meet them outside the work field, like going biking with soonyoung and seokmin in your free time. or taking a culinary class with mingyu and hansol. and many many others. you really liked them and contrary to other groups you’ve worked with, you were sure you’ll keep in touch with them after the work is done.

they all liked you too. except jihoon… you weren’t sure why but that was okay. he pissed you off too, like always using your mug even though you clearly stated it’s yours, constant snarky comments aimed at you (and your ironic ones fired back at him). you both just didn’t click… you tried to avoid each other, knowing that even a mere meeting on a hallway will cause a quarrel.

which is why you’re all tensed up, legs and hands crossed together, because jihoon was late. he had to sit on the spot next to you and of course he’s manspreading, fakely oblivious to the fact that he’s almost shoving his knee into yours.

the door opened and an intern, taehyun, barged into the room.

“u-oh. hello, everyone. our suspicions got confirmed, it’s the old cigarette factory. they should be there in an hour but we don’t know how many people will be there” he said, eyes focused on s.coups. the man nodded gently.

“thank you, taehyun. so we’ll bring back up, just in case. we don’t know if they’re armed, do we?” the leader asked the boy. taehyun hesitated.

“there’s no official information…” his voice trailed off.

“but?” seungcheol rose his eyebrows, crossing his arms.

“if you mind my honest opinion, i think they’ll be armed. they always carry at least a gun” taehyun said, face serious. seungcheol sent him a warm smile.

“good point. thank you, taehyun. go now and tell the staff to prepare our vehicles”

the intern nodded and left. if you weren’t used to sore muscles because of all the hours of training, your legs would start to cramp because of how squished your legs were in order to avoid touching jihoon.

“good. then, soonyoung you’re going as usual: jun, minghao and chan. wonwoo, mingyu and vernon go together. rest of the team as usual so seokmin, seungkwan, jeonghan and joshua” seungcheol nodded and you swore you saw a ghost of a smile dance on his lips.

“and me?” jihoon asked, leaning forward.

“you’re going with y/n. you’ll work as a pair to sneak from behind” the leader announced and before you could let out a yelp of surprise, he was already going towards the door. “let’s go”

the sun has already settled before you arrived to the location. the ride there was silent, everyone rather serious about the moment: will you manage to capture the drug boss? he always keeps running away, as sand slips through fingers. it was starting to get on your nerves and you were determined to put a stop to it.

arriving to your base, you noticed some extra cars. the backup arrived.

in your all black uniforms, heavy boots and hidden knives behind your belt (and extra one in your left shoe), your team was ready. well, jihoon.

“you’ll go first. entering from the back. we studied the building before so you should be able to know where to go more or less. as soon as you locate them, let us know” seungcheol said and put his hands on your and jihoon’s arm “and no fighting or i’ll fucking kill you”

“yes, dad” you snickered and patted his hand.

“and don’t die, alright?” seungcheol rose his eyebrows.

“as if i would let that happen” jihoon snarled and shrugged off cheol’s hand, leaving. the leader nodded and you followed your partner, hand resting on your gun.

you were lead to the building by the instructions in your in-ear. managing to slip in quietly, you were following jihoon.

the building was consumed by darkness, nothing but silence. going through the corridors, you checked in all the rooms.

finally getting to the main room with all the machinery, jihoon stopped in his tracks. he looked back at you, his dark eyes shining with pure focus.

“do you hear it?” woozi asked, voice below a whisper. you frowned and suddenly heard it:

distant chatter, footsteps, and a shuffle of something moving around. your eyes locked with his (and you became hyper aware that he had his gaze on you all the time), and you gave a small nod.

“i’ll try to locate them more or less. you go check the rest of the rooms… and let’s call backup” he ordered. his gaze lingered on you for a bit longer before he went into the darkness of the factory.

you did as he said, your hand ready to pull out your gun any second.

room by room – nothing. you knew the rest of the team already came inside since you could hear noises of combat. some shouts, things getting thrown. no gunshots… maybe they weren’t armed after all?

for a while your heart skipped a beat. are they all okay? even… jihoon?

you shook your head and while checking in another room, you didn’t notice anything strange. as you began to grow annoyed that all the action is taking place and you’re here, alone and without anything… you heard footsteps, rushed footsteps, as if someone was running away.

you returned to the door, peeking out since the sound came from the corridor.

“fucking beomgyu… i’ll kill him. i knew there was something wrong with that boy”

your eyes went wide, hearing the voice. it was the boss. you knew the voice (and him) too well.

“do we need to do it?” you grunted, arms crossed. a thundering gaze that was supposed to scare seungcheol was rather amusing for him.

“yes. you’re the only woman in our group” he said, shaking his head.

“well, so what? he can go with his friends? with homies for a drink!” you grunted and paced around the room “i respect you as a leader, cheol. i really do. but you know how much i just don’t get along with jihoon…”

“hm, do you? i already see that you started calling him by his name, not his code name” seungcheol wiggled his brows and you came up to him, punching his arm. chuckles left the buffed man’s body and you realised he doesn’t care, at all.

“fuck you” you grunted, grabbing your bag “you owe me a drink after this”

seungcheol’s laugh was the only thing that you heard even after leaving the room.

arriving at the restaurant, you sighed. joining the seventeen group you wouldn’t even think that you’d be send to a “date” with your enemy to spy on your actual enemy. and yet, here you are.

the chatter of people and clinking of glasses hit your ears, the inside of the building taking your breath away. it was so royal and rich, you felt small. well, no wonder that a mafia boss would dine here. and only here.

“hello, ma’am. may i ask who are you here with?” a waiter asked, smiling politely.

“oh. the reservation is set for kwak jiho” you answered swiftly. the fake name was so ridiculous “is he here?”

“ah, yes. mr. kwak arrived shortly before you. let me lead the way” the waiter nodded and you followed them.

there were so many stunning people. some of the faces you knew - due to their criminal record or just because they were celebrities. you made sure to check where your main concern was sitting. park chinhae was sitting there, in all his glory, sipping a drink.

your eyes widened when you realised you’re sitting at the table right next to him. the waiter bowed gently and left, leaving you with jihoon.

he stood up and walked up to you, grabbing your hand and placing a soft kiss atop of it. the action made you freeze, but nonetheless, you kept your façade as best as you could.

“you… you look stunning, my dear” he breathed out, eyes scanning over your figure.

well, you figured that it’s a lifetime opportunity: having seungcheol’s black card to spend on the attire. so you went crazy, as anyone would.

a little birdie (minghao) told you that red (especially the ruby shade) is one of jihoon’s favourite colours. so you picked a red dress, nothing too revealing yet having a nice cut to show your left leg. paired with a ruby lipstick and some pretty, sparkly jewellery off you went. you even decided to go to a professional hairdresser because who’s stopping you...?

and apparently, it worked. or maybe jihoon was so used to seeing you in sweatpants and hoodies that this elegant side of you unexpectedly swept him off his feet.

“thank you, baby. you don’t look bad yourself” you hummed and watched him put the chair away for you. jihoon was wearing an all black tuxedo and an expensive tie. his hair slicked back… he was quite handsome looking this way. not like you cared, of course.

once you were in your seat and jihoon returned to his, you crossed your legs. your heel brushed against his leg and he raised his eyebrow.

“i ordered some wine already, dear” he hummed and when you shifted your gaze to park chinhae, he just nodded. he knew.

the nickname caused a swirl of butterflies to storm your stomach and for the nth time this day, you cursed seungcheol in your mind.

you grabbed the menu that you already studied beforehand – the name of the dishes were code names for different question or orders.

“which wine did you choose?” you asked, tapping the table.

“château haut-brion” jihoon answered, eyes never leaving yours. nothing yet.

“i see” you nodded. suddenly your mind goes blank – what are you supposed to talk about with jihoon? the two of you never met outside work. duh, you barely even talked normally at work…

“what about the food? fancy anything?” he asked, shifting in his seat. you two had secret cameras and microphones that could catch the conversation happening next to you, so technically you wouldn’t have to do anything. however, you were curious if you’ll hear anything useful.

“i… i don’t know” you scoffed and put the menu down, biting your lip in wonder “i think i’ll wait for the waiter to recommend something”

jihoon was about to answer you when suddenly you heard a male voice.

“if i may interrupt…”

you looked up and noticed park chinhae looking at you with a smirk dancing on his lips. he was sitting relaxed in his seat, almost as if he owned the place.

“i couldn’t help but pay attention to such a beautiful lady and if you’re having a dilemma what to choose… i truly recommend lemony mussels with cherry tomatoes and potatoes” the man said, giving jihoon a look that you couldn’t crack. was it some sort of trying to assert dominance? or genuine help?

“ah… thank you mr…” you rose your eyebrow, waiting for his name.

“mr. park chinhae. but such a pretty lady can call me just chinhae” he smiled. you saw jihoon’s jaw clench. you leaned forward charmingly and tapped your red nails against the table.

“well, thank you chinhae. but i’m not a connoisseur of seafood, sadly. i appreciate your help though” you nodded with a playful smile.

“ah, no worries! then, let me take a guess: pork or beef?” he asked, full on ignoring jihoon. you couldn’t lie – the situation amused you.

“lamb” was your reply, eyes focused on the drug boss. he looked at the man he was with and clicked his tongue.

“a woman of a taste, i see. good. such lady is a true gem” only now park chinhae’s landed at jihoon. almost threateningly “then my choice would be rosé-marinated grilled lamb leg with walnut salsa fresca”

you gasped, dramatically covering your mouth with your hand.

“chinhae, you must be a regular here. that’s what i’ll settle for, then. thank you so much, i bet it’ll be delicious” you hummed. the man only winked in response and returned to his friend.

silence fell between you and jihoon, his gaze on fire. was he… pissed?

“what? there’s too many things to choose from” you chuckled and nudged his leg. almost as if to say ‘behave’.

“i’ll be sure to later remind you the dish name at my place” he snarled, his mask slipping off for a second. you let out a scoff, noticing the waiter.

“we’ll see if i even end up there” you teased and relaxed in your seat as the waiter came with wines.

“may i take your order?” they asked.

as you ordered the dish chinhae recommended to you, jihoon ordered sweet and spicy pork chops. a code name for ‘be careful’. you just rolled your eyes at him and once the waiter was gone, you saw a sudden glint in his ebony irises.

“so, aeri… what were you up to this weekend?” he asked, the fake name sounding strange in his lips.

“i went on a trip to yongin with my friends. we had a lovely time there” you hummed. with a corner of your eye, you noticed chinhae smile. well, it was his hometown after all.

“oh, really? what did you do there?” jihoon asked and suddenly placed his hand down, close to yours. looking him in the eyes, the air in the room began to grow heavy.

“we’re a little too old for amusement parks” you giggled and decided to start drawing shapes on his hand with the tip of your finger “so we settled to go see a traditional folk village and art museums, then we went to a bar or two at the end of the day”

jihoon was focused on you, as if the mafia boss next to you didn’t exist. the whole room felt empty, only you and jihoon on the room.

“and you? didn’t you miss me too much?” you teased and noticed the boss picked up his phone.

“i think about you every minute of the day, so obviously i missed you” he said ironically, drawing an eye roll from you “i just stayed at home and binge watched the series you recommended me”

“really? alice in borderland?” you asked, stunned. you didn’t recommend it to jihoon, to be precise, but to be fair you were talking about it a lot lately.

jihoon shrugged and from the side, you overheard a piece of rumble from chinhae.

“–all of it? you better, you smart beast. good job, i’ll see you at the usual, next week–”

“yeah, really. it wasn’t that bad” he shrugged.

shortly after your food arrived and while you chatted (and to your amusement, flirted a lot), jihoon occasionally grabbed your hand. you, trying to show him that two can play that game, from time to time rested your high heel against his leg and moved it slowly. you enjoyed the flushed look on his face, whether it was your antics or the wine.

you managed to catch some words like ‘magazine’, ‘6pm’, ‘make more income’ or some useful – new or old – names being dropped.

you came to a conclusion you wouldn’t get more information. he was in a public space after all.

“shall we have some dessert?” you asked “i’m craving tiramisu”

jihoon rose his eyebrows. tiramisu was a code for ‘let’s end this’.

“why? i mean– are you–?” his eyes widened. you rested your chin on your hands.

“i’m fine, i’m just in the mood for something sweet” you shrugged and jihoon couldn’t crack what you meant. then he just smiled playfully.

“hm, okay. i was hoping we could get some dessert afterwards” he hummed “but tiramisu sounds fine”

you scoffed and grabbed your purse.

“great. i’ll be right back, you can order in the meantime” you said and stood up, noticing park chinhae looking at you. he was talking but you sent him a gentle smile and went to the bathroom.

you took your sweet time, fixing your lipstick and hair. also checking the hidden camera and microphone (which, to be frank, you completely forgot about), you took a deep breath.

then the realization hit you. the whole team was listening to your and jihoon’s flirting.

smacking your forehead, you let out a loud groan. seungcheol will so need to buy you a drink. a couple, even.

reapplying some perfume, you zipped your bag and left the bathroom. only to see park chinhae in the hallway, leaning against the wall and being in the phone. he didn’t see you, back facing you.

“i need all the cargo by friday. ship it to the factory this time because i think someone is sniffing around us” he said, voice low but enough for you to hear “and check that intern. beomhan– ah, beomgyu”

you saw him move and before he fully turned around, you acted like you just left the bathroom.

closing the door and turning around, your heart sped up.

“i’m hanging up” was all you heard before there was a sound of approaching footsteps “hey there”

you turned around and faked a shocked face.

“oh, hello mr. lamb leg. it was delightful, thank you” the corner of your lips turned upwards. you noticed his phone in his hand was unlocked, showing the caller id number. you had to act quickly if you wanted the camera to capture it. and you had to shift your position.

“no problem, it was my pleasure to help such a beautiful woman. may i know your name, though?” he asked, eyebrows rising up. you playfully threw your hair back and crossed your arms, shifting your body weight to your left leg. you noticed the way his gaze lingered on it because the cut in the fabric revealed it.

“it’s aeri” you said and cursed mentally. it’s probably not enough “if you hit me with ‘a pretty name for a pretty woman’ i’ll have to give you a disappointing look”

he laughed and you suddenly leaned closer, fixing his bowtie. it was risky, you could see how he tensed up to your touch. but because of that, you were sure that the hidden camera captured his phone screen before it turned off.

“it was crooked. sorry, i’m a bit of a perfectionist” you apologized and leaned back.

“who would i be to despise a woman’s hands on me?” he flashed you a toothy grin. gross. “is your date boring? you can always leave with me”

your heart skipped a beat. you could. that way you could get more information… or what if he lead you to his place? no, probably not. but still…

“ah, i can see you thinking about it” chinhae hummed. if there was an in-ear in your ear, you’d probably hear seungcheol saying to not even think about it.

you were about to say something– anything.

“y/– aeri!”

you turned around and saw jihoon. fuck.

chinhae put a hand on your shoulder and it took you everything in your willpower not to shrug it off.

“here you are. i began to get worried” jihoon snarled, shooting daggers at the man touching you.

“anyways. my offer still stands, if you want to have some actual fun” chinhae whispered in your ear and began to walk away. jihoon walked up to you, wanting to say something but suddenly turned around.

“she’ll have some fun, don’t worry about it” he said. chinhae turned his head and scanned jihoon head to toe.

“with a man your size?”

you had to tug his sleeve. chinhae winked at you and left, leaving only you and jihoon in the hallway.

“calm down, lee” you grunted and when he looked at you, you just sent him a amused expression “i bet aeri would have some nice time with jiho. but there’s nothing left to do, we should go”

“agreed. i already paid, let’s just go” he grunted and gestured you to go first “i’ll drop you off and don’t even argue. that weirdo could follow you”

how ironic. while undercover at the restaurant, he was walking away from you. and now, he did the same yet now you were the one playing with him.

stepping out to the corridor, you debated your options: you could shoot him. you could harm him and capture. or just capture.

suddenly he took a sharp turn to the stairs that lead to the other floor. you managed to hide in one of the janitor rooms. only when the sound of his footsteps became quiet, you followed him as quietly as you could.

the open space allowed you to see the lights of flashlights far away. you noticed a glimpse of him going into one of the offices. why isn’t he running away…?

quietly placing your steps you approached the room. taking a peek inside, you saw that chinhae is rummaging through drawers.

“where the fuck is it…” he grunted, throwing papers on the ground.

“we’re done here. there’s everyone except park chinhae but he wasn’t even meant to be here, apparently. let’s leave. does everyone copy?”

you couldn’t answer – the man would hear you if you did, and your cover would be blown.

taking a deep breath, you checked if you had handcuffs with you. luckily, you did. swallowing with a beating heart, you walked in.

“hands up, chinhae”

the man turned around and frowned. the room was dark, only streams of moonlight sneaking through the blinds. you kicked the door close, gun pointed at him.

“whatever you’re looking for, it won’t save you” you said harshly.

“a woman threatening me with a gun. never would i have imagined i’d find myself in such a position” he laughed and started slowly approaching you. one thing was clear: you can’t kill him. or seriously injure him.

before you could act, he jumped towards you. and it hits you like a hard slap to the face – you didn’t unlock your weapon.

ducking his attack, you kicked him in the stomach. the man lost his balance and hit the desk with a thud. grabbing the first thing that was in his reach, he hurled a lamp at you. it hit your arm, making your weapon fall out of your hands.

before he could jump and grab it, you kicked it away. landing on the floor, he hastily pulled at your leg causing you to fall next to him. the man didn’t waste any time and grabbed you by your shoulders, climbing atop of your body. one hand cupped at your jaw. as he hovered above you, he tongued his cheek.

“you” chinhae grunted, scanning your face. the moonlight shined perfectly on your face, and you could see the puzzle pieces connecting in his head. in the meantime you tried to sneakily reach for your dagger tucked behind your belt.

he ripped your in-ear and sent it crashing against the wall.

“ah, i should’ve been more careful” he hissed and his hands moved down to your neck. his body weight was crushing you, your sweaty fingers mere millimetres from getting ahold of your blade “such a beautiful woman… what a shame i’ll have to kill you”

“i’d like to see you try” you snarled just when his hands tightened around your throat. the lack of oxygen hit your head, he wasn’t sparing any time. as his hold became tighter and tighter, you struggled to take out your dagger.

mere moments from all the air being cut off, you finally grabbed your knife and stabbed him in the arm, drawing a loud yelp from him. using the sudden shock you managed to roll him over and take a deep breath, followed by painful, hacking coughs. leaning on your hands, you tried to blink away your spinning vision. a sudden kick landed at your arm caused you to fall on the floor again.

“you’re alone, huh? where’s your date?” he growled ironically.

you stood up and noticed your gun. you reached for it, swiftly unlocking it. loud steps of his heavy boots echoed through the room.

“i told you to leave with me. you’d have way more fun, and wouldn’t end up this way” his voice was way too close for your liking.

you pointed the gun at him, standing up. before you could realize, the moonlight shone on his figure.

seungcheol stopped in his tracks, counting all his crew for the nth time. jihoon was talking to joshua, vernon and seokmin; wonwoo and mingyu were on the phone with someone from the company; minghao, jun and chan were comforting beomgyu; soonyoung, jeonghan and seungkwan were counting the captured men.

“what is it?” joshua asked, drawing everyone’s attention to seungcheol. even the backup people were starting to get worried.

“it was… too smooth. no guns, their boss not in sight… and i have a feeling that…” his voice trailed off and he suddenly noticed jihoon getting pale.

“did anyone see y/n?”

the silence that fell amongst them spoke volumes, the feeling of anxiety hitting them all.

“fuck, i knew it.. i’m still getting used to the fact there’s 13 of you now. y/n, do you copy?” seungcheol asked through the in-ear.

he was answered with only silence. but then unexpectedly, there was a gunshot.

the horrifying sound of it ripped through the empty space, causing everyone in the room to stiffen up.

“y/n, say something” jihoon ordered, tapping his in-ear piece as if that was supposed to help.

“the IT guys are saying that they don’t see her in the voice channel” wonwoo spoke up “but she’s in the building. the northern side, where you guys entered”

“jihoon, wait!” seungcheol yelled after woozi ran in said direction.

“always getting in fucking trouble…” he snarled to himself, trying to ignore the heavy feeling blooming in his heart. it wasn’t a gunshot aimed at you, obviously. how could it be? they captured everyone.

he checked all the rooms on the floor and with each passing second, when there was no sigh of you, his chest swelled with fear. hypothetically speaking if you were hurt, he was running out of time.

a sudden, dull noise of something – or rather someone – falling on the floor reached his ears. it came from… upstairs?

he noticed the stairs. fuck.

“she’s on the second floor” he said to the in-ear, almost flying through the stairs. kicking every door open, he finally found you.

you were putting handcuffs on an unconscious park chinhae, a growing pool of ruby blood between your bodies.

“thank goodness… is he alive?” jihoon asked, dropping to his knees.

“you’re worried about him?” you joked, relieved to see that jihoon is fine.

“why would i care about you?” he grunted. oh, so you’re back to normal. good to know.

he checked his pulse and noticed the knife in his arm. you just shook your head and saw dark spots in front of your eyes.

leaning your head exhaustively against the desk, your face twisted in pain.

jihoon should’ve seen that first. but the thing that caught his attention were two guns on the floor.

which meant the unconscious man had a weapon too.

“don’t even tell me it was him” jihoon said, a hint of worry in his voice. you shook your head and he just sighed, walking up to you.

he kneeled in front of you, gently grabbing you by your chin and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“please tell me it was you who fired” he repeated, voice stern and cold. emotionless on the surface but you felt the bitterness of it.

“i’m fine” you huffed, scrunching your face.

the silence spoke volumes and jihoon wasted no time helping you stand up. eyes focused on you, he tried to look for any wounds.

“you still haven’t answered my question. can you stop being annoying for once and tell me who was it?” his voice rose up a bit and you sensed genuine concern. your heart ached upon that but the pain was stronger.

“i’m sorry. it was too late when i noticed” you whispered and felt your knees go weak. thanks to jihoon’s quick reflexes, he caught you, arms wrapping around your body. and that’s when he felt it.

he couldn’t see the blood due to the black clothes and darkness in the room. but he certainly felt it on his hands, and his throat went dry.

“i’ll fucking kill you if you die on me right now” jihoon’s voice broke.

people barged into the room, immediately taking care of the mafia boss.

you just shook your head and jihoon felt more and more warm blood spilling on his hands.

“you’re such an dumb idiot, getting yourself shot” he rambled at this point. the next events slurred into one vague memory. him grabbing you in bridal style, seungcheol shaking your arms, a car ride to the base with jihoon’s fingers interlocked with yours. his voice repeatedly saying ‘don’t die’ and you, struggling to respond with an ironic moment and only managing to mumble a “try me’’ before passing out on his lap.

you slowly opened your eyes, the blinding brightness of the room causing you to close them again. trying again, you looked around the room. hospital room…?

once the events started slowly coming back to you, you noticed a fluffy ball next to your knees. then you realised it’s a fluffy ball of messy hair. jihoon’s messy hair. jihoon, who was sleeping next to you on a plastic chair.

you frowned and tried to look for the wound. with one hand examining your body, because the other… the other was held by the man next to you.

when your shaky fingers stumbled upon the bandage, you saw jihoon slowly rose his head up.

he looked at you, dark circles under his ebony eyes. then they widened in shock upon noticing that–

“you’re awake!” he gasped, back straightening. you could only nod weakly “do you need anything? water? does it hurt? should i call the doctor? are you…”

“water will be fine” you hummed in slight amusement, enjoying this caring side of jihoon. only when he stood up to get some, he realized he was still holding your hand. turning his back to you, so you couldn’t see his reddening face, he started looking for some water.

“what… what happened to park chinhae? you captured him, right? did he say anything?” you asked, fixing your posture. hissing when a sudden wave of pain ripped through your body, jihoon turned around immediately “also… how long i’ve been…”

“two weeks” jihoon replied quietly, placing a bottle of water on the nightstand. you went to open it but struggled, hating the way you were so helpless “you lost a lot of blood, the bullet stayed in your body. we got the best medic but you scared us all to death” he mumbled, grabbing the water bottle and opening it for you. when he handed it back, his caring gaze lingered on you.

“oh i bet” you mumbled before taking a sip.

“that’s what you do the best, apparently” jihoon bit back, opening the blinds in the room.

“i barely woke up and here you go again… will you tell me what happened to park chinhae?” you asked, looking at him.

“you captured him and knocked unconscious so we could transport him. then we had an interrogation, he–” jihoon let out an annoyed sigh, returning back to the chair next to you. he looked tired “he didn’t say shit. in fact, all he was saying was shit about you”

“oh?” you frowned. you were used to this, sadly, since it happened frequently but the way he said that was… hinting that he didn’t leave this in peace.

“yeah. so me and cheol taught him a little lesson about respect for women and then he started talking” he said with a playful smirk.

“jihoon, am i hearing that right? you stood up for me?” you teased, putting the water bottle away. he rolled his eyes.

“whatever. he said the name of his main dealer so we handed him to the police. after wiping out his money, of course” he smiled and his mouth hung open for a while, as if he was thinking about adding something.

but just when he seemed to make his mind and speak out, the door bursted open.

“Y/N L/N YOU IDIOT! YOU’RE AWAKE?” seungcheol yelled out, but you just shrugged.

just when he was about to rush and hug you, you shook your head.

“it still hurts, cheol” you mumbled. he sent you a reassuring yet worried smile, then his eyes shifted to jihoon.

“you’re still here?” he asked teasingly, crossing his arms. you rose your eyebrows “y’know, y/n, he wouldn’t leave your side when you were unconscious”

“can you not?” jihoon grunted, face stone-cold.

“you felt guilty, huh? i remember you saying ‘as if i would let us die’ but there you were, as pale as a ghost when y/n passed out on you” seungcheol snickered and stopped once he saw a dangerous glint in woozi’s eyes “jihoon, could you actually leave for a second? i need to discuss a private matter with y/n”

“whatever” the man sighed and before he left, his gaze lingered on you for a while longer. with a soft click of door closing, seungcheol sat down next to you.

“what is it?” you asked, scared.

“nothing, actually. i just wanted to ask if there’s something between you and jihoon?” he rose his eyebrows. you shook your head, frowning.

“absolutely not” you grunted, looking away. okay, he was good-looking and funny but… not annoying most of the time.

“ah, really? because he wouldn’t leave your side while you were unconscious. he made sure the nurses that took care of you and changed your clothes were female and… beat up park chinhae pretty badly when we interviewed him. and also he wouldn’t say it but i could see it on his face that he felt guilty that it happened” seungcheol crossed his arms “what i’m trying to say is… consider his weird behaviour”

you stared at the leader with a mixture of confusion and awe.

“are you trying to say that… he likes me…?” you mumbled. cheol just shrugged.

“dunno. he acts differently around you. i’ve known him for a while and i just know that something is going on. but he’d rather get shot than admit it” seungcheol scoffed and gestured at you “no pun intended”

you reached for the water bottle and sighed, mind racing. that was a lot to process.

“i’ll go and tell others that you woke up, m’kay? and i’ll also call in the doctor” the leader stood up and smiled, ruffling your hair.

leaving you and your thoughts alone, you stared at the hoodie that someone left on the chair.

jihoon paced in front of the door, his thoughts spinning around him. you were supposed to leave today since the goal was accomplished. everyone bid you goodbye, and even threw a small party. it’s not like you’re leaving forever – you’ll stay in touch with them or join them again. but physically, you won’t be here anymore.

he took a deep breath and knocked at your door. whatever. it’ll be fine.

“yes, come in” your voice chirped welcomingly. he smiled and pushed the door open.

he saw you packing your bags with… his hoodie on.

“oh”

jihoon frowned.

“what do you mean ‘oh’?” he grunted, crossing his arms. you just let out a chuckle and shook your head.

“you’re the last person i would’ve expected to come here” a hum left your mouth as you turned your back to him and grabbed a pair of socks “what is it? one last ironic comment before i go?”

you were met with silence, causing you to turn around and look at him. jihoon looked serious, ebony irises focused on you.

he was practising this. he memorised everything what he wanted to say, even the tone of his voice. but seeing you now caused everything to fly out of his head, lips moving on his own. and before he realized – it was too late.

“i like you”

the socks dropped out of your hands. you blinked slowly, mouth closing and opening like a fish that’s been out of water for too long.

“w- what?” you scoffed and shook your head, trying to bend down to grab the socks. yet, the state of your wound didn’t allow you to do it normally. letting out a hiss, jihoon rushed to help and grabbed it for you. placing the socks in your bag, you were able to see his face up close. to your amusement, you noticed his ears turning red.

“i guess seungcheol told you his assumptions. i like you, okay? the stupid gun thing made me realize that” he huffed, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“what do you mean?” you asked, playing with him. it’s a rare occurrence that jihoon gets so open and talkative, you might as well use it.

“it’s just… i felt guilty. you were dying on me and it suddenly hit me that life would be horrific without annoying you. and you, yourself. i’d miss you… and stuff. so i guess i like you. i’m not telling you because you’re leaving now but i… i just felt like it” he admitted bashfully, stumbling over his words, all while avoiding your eyes.

“jihoon” you couldn’t help your smile grow.

“and it’s my hoodie by the way” he pointed at the clothing, trying not to think how perfectly the hoodie fits you.

“jih– huh, really?” a gasp left your lips. you were sure it was seungcheol’s or… ah. jihoon probably left it when he was looking over you.

“you can keep it” he said softly and finally, your eyes met. for the first time, you saw that he’s anxious “i’ll get going. don’t die on your way back. bye”

“jihoon, wait–” you laughed and grabbed his wrist. he turned around and his stomach was stormed by butterflies when he felt your gentle hold. “it’s true, seungcheol made me realize this and that”

“that asshole” jihoon muttered, peering at you. you were… smiling.

“so i’ve been thinking about it. i told myself: i’ll be here for two more weeks. if until my leave jihoon won’t say or do anything, i’ll leave like nothing happened. if he does – i’ll tell him the truth” you said slowly, seeing how the gears visibly turned in his head. cute–

“what?” he asked, now being the one stunned.

“you like me. i… think i like you too. apart from being an asshole, you’re pretty sufferable” you grinned and poked his chest.

“what?” he frowned, his face contorting like you just spoke to him in a completely different language.

“don’t make me repeat it” you breathed out, the sudden realization that you said it hitting you.

“does… what…” his eyes suddenly fell on your lips “can i…”

“yes, you can kiss me” you whispered, finishing the sentence for him.

jihoon stepped closer, his hand leaving yours only to be placed on your jaw. the hold was gentle, almost as if he was afraid that he’ll break you.

then, his plush lips landed on yours. the kiss made your head spin – it was so unlike him but then again, so jihoon-y. nothing but tender and respectful, a taste of the chocolate cake that was served during the party lingering on his lips.

before you could deepen the kiss, he leaned away.

“i’m 100% serious about it. i know i’ve been acting like a dick but i couldn’t help it. it’s hard to act normal around such a pretty person” he snickered, thumbs caressing your cheeks “and as much as i’d want to kiss you again, chan was supposed to pick you up”

“but… we’ll stay in touch, alright?” you asked, pouting slightly. jihoon noticed the way your e/c eyes sparkled with hope and he couldn’t help but shoot you a genuine smile.

“of course. do you have any plans for the weekend? we could go on a date… like a normal one” he offered, stepping away.

you nodded with a grin, zipping up your bag. “i’d love to”

out of the blue, the door bursted open. chan was about to yell something when he noticed jihoon.

“what the fuck!” the youngest yelped.

“i hope you fall down the stairs, by the way” almost like a switch, jihoon snarled. however, this time you saw the amused smile on his sneaking lips.

“sure. you too” you shook your head and left with chan, giving jihoon a last goodbye look.

but only for now, because you’ll see him again soon.

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @jiwuu ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth

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https-yeonjun · 22 days

Text

fashion killa (k.mg)

wc. 879

genre. smut

tags. model!mingyu x fem!reader, oral (fem receiving) one night stand, strangers to lovers, strength kink (if you squint) minors DNI

a/n. first thing i've written in months, are we so back???? also this is kind of so late but happy happy happy mingyu day <333

more of my work

mingyu’s lips roam your body as he pulls you into his apartment. he closes the door and pushes you up against it softly.

part of you wants to take a break and glance around his luxury one bedroom apartment that had a one of a kind view of the city. but at the same time, another part of you just wants to rip his shirt off of his back. and mingyu is so desperately feeding into that part. his nimble hands are already unzipping your dress before you can realize it.

despite your silent pleas, he breaks away from the kiss, to take you in as your little black dress slides off your body. so sexy. he mumbles before you pull him back in to devour his lips again.

you aren’t supposed to be here.

your best friend pleaded with you to come out with her – it was paris fashion week after all. and she promised you she could get you into a really good party. so you foolishly followed her out in the most uncomfortable pair of heels you owned.

you really should have known how bad the party was going to be when you saw the promoter begging slightly intoxicated young women to come into the club. nevertheless, against your better judgment, you went in to find loud music blaring through the speakers and people literally standing on the dance floor. the two of you surveyed the area for all of five minutes before deciding to find something better to do.

but it turns out there really was nothing better to do.

at least nothing you could get into. it seemed like every party was invite only and two college girls with no connections, surely were not on the guest list.

you were going to give up and call it a night. but you found a club with a line that wasn’t too long. you waited until you made it to the front of the line, where your best friend batted her lashes at the doorman asking if he could just waive the cover for two pretty girls. you mentally rolled your eyes but it worked.

from the moment you walked in, you could already tell that this place had a way better vibe than the other place. you and your friend made a beeline towards the bar and bought your little overpriced drinks before heading out to the dance floor.

you remember making eye contact with the hot model from across the room. but you’re not completely sure what happened from the time you felt strong arms wrap around your waist as mingyu came over to dance with you, but that didn’t matter now. because you were here with him gently kissing down your torso. he stops when he gets to the waistband of your underwear. you feel a shiver down your spine as he kisses you through your panties. gyu, please. you whine. you feel his teeth graze against your skin when he begins to pull it down.

he kisses up your legs until you could feel his breath inches away from your core. p-please, you stutter.

what do you want me to do? his thick fingers spread your lips apart. his eyes are laser focused on you, watching you fall apart with a sly smile on his lips. he presses his finger into your soaked hole, ketting it swallow him. you clenched around him as he added another finger. you can’t even be bothered to think straight as he curled his fingers inside of you. he thrusts them in and out, fluidly.

your whines fill the room, your hips stuttering into his palm, desperate for him. i n-need you. you whimper. you need to feel all of him. mingyu pulls his fingers out and you almost cry at the newfound emptiness you feel.

but before you can say anything, his lips find their way around your clit. his hands trail up to your back and down your legs. you throw your head back against the wooden door and your hand locks on the back of his head, with your fingers threading through his hair. but his hair is too short and it’s just not enough for you. you pull him closer to you.

he chuckles against you, the vibrations causing you to arch your back. he takes this as an opportunity to lock your leg behind his back. he continues to bury his face in your pussy. his tongue enters between your folds eagerly. his nose is angled and brushes against your clit softly.

you grind yourself against his face, desperate to feel more of him. he grabs your hips more tightly,guiding you closer to your high. his hums vibrate against your core as you inch closer to your orgasm.

the room fills up with the sounds of your moans as his tongue fucks you right through your orgasm.

mingyu’s face emerges from between your thighs. he still grips onto your legs, lifting you up as he stands. he pulls you in for a long kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck for support, as you melt into the kiss. he finally pulls away from the kiss and you feel like putty in his arms. we should go to my bedroom, no?

taglist: @dearlyjun @bunnie-hq @honglynights @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @leemoonna @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @buttrry @wayvisyummy @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

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#fay's works #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut

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chosok-amo · 4 months

Note

Enemies to lovers toji x fem reader!!!!! Theyre both in college and reader is usually really smart and focused n stuff but toji likes to tease her and yeah!!!!

THUNDERSTORM : TOJI FUSHIGURO

oh just how much you hate toji fushiguro, and the feelings are mutual. you are a calm, intelligent and focused person, while he's in the other hands annoying, stupid, arrogant and many other things you hate— you hate how he always makes your heart beat like a thunderstorm.

content warning: college! toji, non-sorcerer jjk, fluff! toji

i wasn't doing my best with this one but i hope you like it

“stop that.”

“stop what?” your eyes narrowed.

“doing that thing with your face when you're happy, it's making me nauseous.” he's looking at you as he's making a disgusted face. his index finger makes a circle while pointing at your face. your smile dropped and an annoyance sounds left your lips. you slam the tray and sit yourself beside the white-haired boy, gojo satoru. and there's that boy, in front of you eating his lunch with a disgusted face as he eyed you, toji fushiguro.

“get your nasty finger off my face before I break it,” your hands move faster trying to catch his finger only for him to pull away faster. “always so slow,” he mocked you. “oh fuck you, toji,” you spit to him, getting more annoyed each second you look at him. while the other boy just laughed. seeing how your face turned red from anger amused him. toji fushiguro always showed a liking every time spat at him, getting nastier and sassier each second. hands gripping on something tightly or just clenched your fist he's afraid you're gonna make your nail bleeding from your nail.

he loves how your eyes always look at him like you're on fire, how your pretty mouth insults him in the most hilarious way he could ever imagine. he loves to have the power of having a calm, pretty, intelligent person like you going crazy because of a person like him. a girl with patience like a saint always growling in anger every time he open his mouth. it's like watching a soap opera, for free. you, on the other hand, despise him with all of your heart. you hate the way his green eyes glisten when the sun hits, you hate the way his personality is embedded in each word when you read a poem about love, you hate the way his voice shapes into a melody and echoes his entire being, scaring you.

“what are you doing here, anyway?” satoru asked as he shoved a macaron into his mouth. you look at the man in front of you, feeling confused also. toji never sits with you and your friends, always with his suicide squad— sukuna and weird ass choso, you swear that guy always looks like his soul just gets sucked out of his body. “yeah, toji? what the fuck are you doing here?” you parrot, this time sassier and you glare at him.

“what? I can't have lunch with friends now?”

you and satoru look at each other before you roll your eyes, “can you please go be annoying somewhere that's away from me?” you asked, nearly begging. you're too hungry to deal with toji's nonsense and he's too insufferable to be around. “but that wouldn't be nearly as much fun,” he pouts, pretending to be sulking as he put his palm under his cheeks and battling his eyelashes. but you don't budge, just keep glaring your eyes to him hoping suddenly your eyes let out a laser that could kill him on the place.

toji sighs in defeat before he gets up throwing you a glance of judgement, “boo, you whore.” and with that he swings his ass as he walks away with a tray in one hand and the other on his jeans pocket— leaving you with mouth hanging open.

“fucking asshole.”

you feel something was throwing at you— hitting your back of the head. you're in class right now, trying to focus on whatever your professor was talking about. you try to ignore whatever that was throwing at you but each time it's getting bigger and you become more annoyed. so with the last patience you had left, you snap your neck to look at whoever it is— of course it's other than toji fushiguro. “what?” you yelled whispered. “let me borrow your pen,” he said, looking like an idiot with his slay grin, makes you more annoyed.

“no, shut up!”

you back to your position again and this time you're insisting on not gonna pay toji any attention. for a moment things got quiet and you don't hear anything from toji. but of course, that man wasn't letting you sit there in class and try to study quietly. you hear something from your behind that makes you turn around only to find already sitting there, smiling at you. “what the fuck are you doing?” your voice rough while you shoot a glance at your professor.

“i miss you,” he pout.

you look at him in disgust, “shut the fuck up toji, i'm trying to learn something here,” you grumble. that's only amused him more as he put both hands under his chin and battling his eyelashes to you. “make me, y/n,” he whispered, trying to be seductive as he snout his lips to you and making a kiss noise. you winces in disgust before shoving his face away with your hand.

“what the fuck is wrong with you..”

he just laughed.

you were walking on the hallway of your campus alone. book on your left hands and the other holding a cup of your coffee. you spend a night working on your project until morning and you haven't got a single sleep, so you really need caffeine to keep you awake. when you turn around the corner something big suddenly come out of nowhere, startled you by surprise.

“AH!”

you were so shocked that you fell on the floor along with your books and coffee getting you wet in the process. you look up only to find toji fushiguro hovering you. hands in pocket as he looks down at you. “you scared me,” you shriek. his shoulder move up and down as he shrugged, looking unbothered. “well, i'm naturally terrifying,” he said obvious, like it's was something natural and common. you scoff while rolling your eyes.

“nobody finds you terrifying, fushiguro.”

he frowned after hearing what you were saying, “that's not true, everybody finds me terrifying,” he said in defense. you snicker and cover your mouth, “you're delusional because I'm not finding you terrifying,” you mocked him. and toji doesn't seem like he's agree with whatever you just yapping about. his green eyes bore at you and he was silent for a moment like there's a war inside his head.

“what?” you feel annoyed as he keeps on looking at you with an expression you can't figure out. something you never seen on his face before, something unfamiliar. but he keeps his mouth shut, refuses to speak and entertained you with his lame answer but no, he just stood there looking like he just found something he's longing for who knows how long. his eyes, you can't stand it— worse, you were afraid of it. it feels like his eyes can touch you more than his hands ever could, that's the only thing about him that terrifying to you.

a hard covered book kisses his face harshly to snap him out of whatever he was in. he grimaces in pain and rubs the red on his forehead— where the book landed. “the fuck is wrong with you?” he yells in pain. “stop being a baby,” you dryly said to him. before he gets to let out a bunch of insults, your high pitched scream stops him. your white shirt covered with coffee making your boobs and bra look visible.

“oops,” toji laugh.

you who's still on the floor sending a tall man in front of you a glare. toji swear he can see the steam coming out of your ears. “look at what you've done!” you growl in anger. toji rolled his eyes bored before scoffing, “stop being a baby,” he mocked you— purposely throwing you the same sentence you just said to him. you clicked your tongue as you tried your best to clean yourself with hope in your heart that it doesn't leave a stain. toji just standing there watching you.

he let out a sigh before throwing you his leather jacket making you stare at him in confusion. “cover yourself, idiot.” and just like that he walks away, leaving you all confused and dumbfounded.

your day is always filled with toji fushiguro. every corner you go, fate seems to find it amusing when he's making your blood boil and your face turns red like fresh tomatoes, that's why it always sends him around, find you every time. you started to get used to his presence. you started to find the scar on lips look more stunning than it used to— especially when he's smile. you no longer feel scared when his green eyes flashed to you. his smile become sweet, different from the rest, from everyone else. you started to notice everytime he touches you it suddenly felt as if the stars dancing across your skins.

“your hands,” he said, softly this time.

you don't say anything, too amused with how beautiful he becomes after all this time, after you start to notice. like it has its own thoughts, your hands just move to the man in front of you, letting him hold it like it's always belonged to him, and it fits perfectly also. and then there's it, the stars thing again. something you're unfamiliar with but knowing you're gonna become an addiction of it, of his touch.

he slipped something on your ring finger. you look down to your hand, hand that he was holding. a ring with white bunny, matching with him as he shows you his hand. your heart smiles, followed by your lips but then it's beating faster, knocking your chest as if it's begging the man to hear. you scared so you look at him and your heart beating faster than before when you realize he's already looking, like a thunderstorm. “it's promise ring,” his voice gentle.

toji fushiguro, a man who couldn't go on with his day without hearing your voice, he couldn't go on with his day without feeling your eyes on him, without your presence around him— it feels like an addiction he doesn't realize, getting too attached to each second. when you're not around he's always looking for you, purposely making you mad just because he knows you're the most expressive when you with him, knowing only him that can makes you feel something you try to denied. he too, try to denied.

the feeling he has for you wasn't something he is familiar with and he's unhappy with that. he wants to quit because every time you walk into that hallway beautifully his head feels fuzzy and the world faded into the background like on the movies show, it's lonely and cold. and standing there with you, in the middle of your campus festival, where people and times move faster— but not faster as his beating heart.

“i'll pick your thunder,” he said, nearly whispering.

you didn't like this boy, you didn't find him attractive in a romantic way, his face wasn't something you'd be thinking about next week. he spoke and he sounded just like the others, a voice you wouldn't recognize again, but now he seemed gentle, so do for toji, he didn't like you last year, but now he started to notice the way you filling the room, expanding like a butterfly breaking free from the cocoon, it was hard not to notice you glisten when all eyes darted like spotlights on you.

when you speak everyone has no choice but to listen and indulge in your smile. or when the room is empty and moonlights spills in through a creak in the door. he starts to love the way your eyes gleam. you changes, you're no longer just a gentle looking girl. he didn't care for the soft waves in your hair but now he started to notice each wave, and the clothes that you wears, and the way that you stands, and smiles, and walks.

you find yourself not just listening but losing touch of things when he talks. he was just another head in the crowd, he was just annoying classmates that always fuming you, you wouldn't recognize his voice when he speaks, but now it is echoing in your mind out loud. he hasn't changed a bit but how something both of you overlooked become something both of you desire?

he didn't like this girl

and you don't like this boy

but you and him now sure do

how'd you do it?' you thought.

how'd you do it?' he thought.

how'd you make me fall in love with you?

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wosoamazing · 15 days

Text

14:00

Warnings: Death, CPR, car accident, blood, head injury, stud’s causing blood, match abandoned, panic attack?, ankle injury, vomit(barely, bile), badly translated Spanish - google translated (has english though too).

A/N: Part 2? If yes Angsty or Fluffy?? Or both??

One minute you were walking down the street with your best friend, the next minute you were on call with 112, about to start CPR on your best friend. Every minute that went by she slipped further and further away. The women who hit her. The women who didn’t even know her was breaking down. Her continuous screams of “I’m sorry” pierced your ears over and over. This women, a women who didn’t even know her was allowed to break down but you couldn't. You had to fight back the tears that brimmed your eyes. You had to stay strong. Watch how her chest caved inward with every compression. Watch as the colour faded away from her body slowly, as blood spilled out of her. Watch as her pupils dilated further. Watch as her chest caved in slightly less with every compression and feel how your arms burnt more with every compression, your breath becoming more ragged with every minute, becoming increasingly aware of your heart that pounded in your chest. A wave of relief should’ve washed over you as you heard the sirens but it didn’t, instead you steadily became increasingly aware of the severity of the situation you we’re in.

“Señorita, ¿puede dar un paso atrás? Nos haremos cargo.(Miss, can you step back, we will take over.)” You didn't even look at him, not even a glance, your mind was laser focused, nothing else could get in. You had to keep going. You couldn't stop. She couldn't die. A hand was placed on your shoulder and it pulled you back, the paramedics immediately resumed CPR, you knelt there, trembling, tears threatening to leave your eyes, but you didn’t let them win.

“¿Puedo comprobarte? (Can I check you out?)” A voice said as they placed a hand on your back, you flinched “No, no, estoy bien, estoy bien (No, no I’m fine, I’m fine)” you reassured yourself. Because you were fine, you weren’t the one dying on the pavement.

----

“Ella ha estado codificando durante una hora, llámalo (She’s been coding for an hour, call it)” “Hora de la muerte 14:00 (Time of death 14:00)” you turned around, walked away, not noticing some of your teammates standing there, they all expected you to break but you didn’t. 14:00 signalled your best friend’s time of death, it also signalled the death of your ability to feel any emotion, you walked straight out of the hospital and back home, like a robot, monotone, you continued to just go through the daily motions of life for weeks, somehow not feeling any emotion. Until Alexia decided to try and get through to you one day.

“Y/N! aquí ahora(here now),” up until this point she was letting you go, when you didn't respond when you ignored her, but she wasn’t letting you go this time.

“Why are you training?” she bluntly said “What do you mean?” you snapped knowing very well what she meant, ever since that day your ankle had been hurting, but you had managed to hide it, until today, you had a slight limp, but you hoped no one noticed.

“Your ankle is hurt.” “No, it's not, I’m fine.” “Y/N,” “I’m fucking fine Alexia, what don’t you understand about that, estoy bien, is that better, do you understand now, can't you just leave me alone, that's all anyone has been doing for weeks.” Alexia was hurt, you had insinuated she was dump, but she wasn't going to continue pushing. she knew you didn't like talking about your emotions, they all did, but your last words repeated over in her head, was leaving you alone doing more harm than good, did you feel like you couldn't show emotion. She didn't know but she had just seen some sort of emotion from you, in your words and eyes, you had been aggressive and defensive, but your last words made her feel you were one trigger, one thing away from letting it all out.

____

It was only a week later when you were forced to show real and raw emotions again, there was a corner, and instead of Hannah Hampton’s glove hitting the ball she punched Lucy straight in the temple, causing the older women to fall to the ground with a thud, laying there lifeless, before she took studs to the shoulder as one of the Chelsea players stumbled backwards. She laid there lifeless blood pouring out of her, she couldn’t die, not this way, not the same way, your vision glazed over as the image of Lucy turned into your best friend, the sudden present of emotions choked you, the cries of the women met your ears again, the sirens, the paramedics, suddenly you couldn’t breath you had to get out of there, you ran, quickly, and found yourself hiding under a bench in the corner of the locker room, your were curled up as physically small as you could get, tears flooded out your eyes as you rocked, your hands squeezing the life from your legs, in an attempt to try and stay grounded.

Alexia had followed you, but she couldn't bring herself to moved further into the room, she just stood in the doorway not knowing what to do.

Ingrid came up behind her, informed her captain the game was abandoned, before the Norwegian women moved towards you and Alexia left, only to be greeted with all of her teammates standing in the hall, she was unsure of what to do, ever thankful that Emma offered they share the Chelsea showers, as quickly as possible your teammates came in collected all their things and quickly left, leaving just you and Ingrid in the room, the women had been trying to coax you out of your head and at least slightly back with her words, trying not to startle you, but it wasn’t working, she had no option but to place a very soft hand on your arm, which caused you to jump in sheer panic, you only ever so slightly opened a gap between your leg and arm to see who it was, but it was enough for Ingrid to see how much of a state you were in, your eyes wide open, pupils dilated in fear, tears streaming down your face.

Once you realised it was Ingrid, someone safe, someone soft, you immediately launched yourself at her, before yet again curling into the smallest ball you could in her lap, clutching at her jersey, which was quickly soaked from your tears, she held onto you tight, placing her chin on top of your head, rocking you softly as you continued to sob, as your body shook, as you were falling apart in her arms, and she was just glad someone was there when you did fall apart, her biggest fear the whole time had been what if someone wasn't there when you broke, when your heart cracked open, when the temporary tape that kept your heart together broke, but here she was, the tape had broken, causing your heart to shatter, and Ingrid was there to hold you. At some stage Mapi had come in, and sat next to Ingrid, she placed a cautious hand on your back and left it there, not moving it.

---

Your mouth started to fill with saliva, and your body rolled forward before you were met with a sour fluid in your mouth, Ingrid quickly moved a sick bag up to your mouth, and you spat out the bile before taking a small sip of water and resuming your tight ball, your eyes were still streaming, although your body had stopped shaking as much as it was. The two women resumed, their positions of just sitting there, in silence, with you, both knowing you would talk about it with time, both knowing you didn't want to be pushed, and you didn't want someone telling you it was okay, or that it would be okay because no one in life actually knew whether it would be okay or not. So they sat there with you, giving you the physical comfort and reassurance you needed, having no intention of moving until you wanted to.

---

“Go,” you said so quietly the two women barely registered it, you didn't know how long it had been, but you felt okay now, you felt ready to go and talk about it.

“Sure, you’re going to stay with us though okay,” you didn't say anything, just nodded, you were thankful you didn't have to go home to your cold apartment which was once filled with warmth from your best friend, the apartment that was once filled with laughter, once filled with joy. Ingrid lifted you up with her, and as you stood your ankle was throbbing, but it had been for the past week, what was different, however it was different when you took your first step towards the exit, a simple step caused so much pain, from one simple step your knee buckled under you as a shooting pain rose up your leg. Ingrid quickly wrapped a hand around your waist, steadying you.

“I-Ing, um, c-could we, p-pos-posibly g-go t-to the, the physios f-first?” you softly stuttered, she looked at you slightly bewilder that you had opened up so quickly about your ankle that everyone knew was hurt, the one that was clearly hurt the day Alexia called you out for it and you insisted you were fine, even though it was evident you weren't, both of them were concerned that it had somehow gotten worse in the past hour both just standing there not knowing what to do, “my-my an-ankle,” she nodded, and Mapi quickly moved ahead of you both to see if the Chelsea physios were still there and whether they could look at you or not.

“Our physios aren’t here, but the Chelsea physios are going to take care of you,” they looked over you, before getting an x-ray. “It's broken, but we are worried about ligament damage since it looks to be a stress fracture, she is going to need to get scans at the hospital,” your body stiffened at his words, as your eyes widen and you started trembling “no-no-no hospital,” you pleaded, “Can’t you just put her in a boot and give her crutches, other than possible surgery what else would they do different if it was ligaments too.” Ingrid tried to reason with them, “We can but there is a possibility that if we don’t do the scan on her ankle today she could have to have a bigger surgery and longer recovery, or will be in pain every time she plays forever” “Qué más va a hacer una semana o dos? ya ha pasado un mes” (What more is a week or two going to do. It has already been a month)

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barca women #ingrid engen x reader

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romanoffsbish · 5 months

Text

On The Edge

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt Request | Natasha’s patience for your lack of time management boils over, and you pay the price | WC: 2,210

No pronouns used, but “pretty” and equally as soft terms are used to label / describe R.

Warnings: Non-Con (unintentional / momentarily) | Possessive Natasha

Smut: Dom!Nat | Prior Solo Play (R) | Oral / Fingering / Strap (R) | Teasing / Overstimulation | KO

18+ | Minors DNI

Natasha groaned, punching the bag in frustration as the secondary hand on the clock landed on the three. You were late, like usual, but you knew better than to leave her waiting in the training room for this long. So, the redhead tossed her gloves beneath the swaying bag and made her way to the elevator to collect you.

It wasn't like she didn't know where you were, seeing as how every time you are late it's because of sleep. It was honestly adorable to watch you stumble in, with the occasional patch of dried up drool on your chin, but usually that's only a few minutes after the time to train. Natasha never let you off the hook for it, but she also went far easier on you than she ever had anyone else, and that was simply because she adored you.

——

You were the light of the compounds, and her life... She's just never told you that before for the sake of professionalism as she was in charge of making you Avenger ready. Feelings, no matter how real, would not keep you safe in the field, so for the sake of a future relationship she dreamed of, she focused on training.

It worked, for the most part anyways, but there were times she nearly lost her cool. Like every time she'd pin you to the mat, your eyes would roll back at the impact and her mind would picture it in a different light. Or, the post training glow you usually sported that made you look twice as delectable. Natasha needed you in a way that challenged her every known process, she was not regarded as soft and sweet, but with your head on her shoulder after a long day, she knows she can be...

You were undeniably perfect, beautiful in both looks and spirit and as pure as the light of the halo that she imagined hovers atop your head... In a moments time though, her entire view of you would be changed, all because she was too frustrated to remember the proper etiquette, and the one of many reasons, for a knock.

Or to respect the barriers you'd put in place, as her trusty bobby pin clicked into place Natasha flung your previously locked door wide open and gasped. Her eyes laser focused in onto your exposed skin, and her hands were quick to shut and re-lock your door lest anyone else see what she now deemed—soon to be, hers.

The redhead wasn't the type to crumble, and if anyone else had been before her she'd remain an unmoved fortress, but if you begged she might just fall to the ground. Might a loose word really, because the longer she stared at you, the more she felt her knees shake.

Which would only be fair as you've blessed her with such beauty, lying there spread open for her. It was as if you were posed for her by a deity, in her worn down death metal hoodie that went missing after a mission.

You in her clothes was an undreamed fantasy, you truly looked ready to be ate, the fabric had ridden up significantly, leaving your naked lower half exposed to her predatory gaze. Natasha was gnawing on her lip when her eyes locked in on the strap beside your leg.

You were going to make such a pretty slut for her...

The smell that surrounded her was enough for her to know this was a recent endeavor of yours, fresh slick still shining on the skin of your thighs a clear mark too. An unexpected groan fell from her lips at the sight, leading to your body shuffling as your eyes snapped open. "Natasha?" Your adorable, groggy voice made her feel like smiling, but she kept her neutral face. "Y/L/N, why weren't you at our morning training?"

"Clint told me it was cancelled," you loudly yawned, but for some reason you didn't move to cover yourself up and the redhead smirked. "Y-you have a mission?"

Natasha now knew exactly what had happened, her best friend decided to meddle and now she was met with a glorious opportunity. Clint likely didn't expect that it would work out this way; she didn't mind, nor did she have the urge to ask him, she’d won regardless.

Natasha ignored your question and began to stalk her way over to you, her eyes roamed over your frame without even a hint of shame. This time you attempted to pull the hem of fabric down, but her hands latched around your wrists to stop you. "Is that my hoodie?"

The way you gulped in fear amused her tremendously, then you nodded and her lips upturned devilishly. "We are going to have so much fun together krasivaya," her tone dropped an octave, causing your body to shimmy as a pathetic little whimper left your chapped lips.

Natasha was two sounds away from ripping you apart, but she needed to be sure she wasn't taking advantage of your vulnerability. "Do you want to have fun Y/N?"

"Please," you cried instantly, hips desperately canting off the bed in emphasis as she swiftly straddled them. The way your slick spread against the skin of her toned abs and settled into the defined lines was what truly drove the woman into action. With determination and precision on her side Natasha helped you out of her hoodie, one hand fell to your bare chest to fondle your sensitive breasts while the other held your hands down above your head, her eyes were blown out in a way you had only ever dreamed of before this surreal reality.

"Fuck detka," she moaned, so deep and raspy that it was nearly a growl, "Your perfect tits are pierced?" The question was rhetorical, but her eyes were full of a lusty wonder, her fingertips pressed into the metal balls and her hand twisted, tweaking your nipple and ripping a deep moan of your own from within you.

Natasha moaned too and felt as her walls pulsed, she had you pegged as an angel, but here you were, a deviant and for some reason the subtlety was much hotter. In public you'd be her precious little peach, but behind closed doors you would be her pretty little slut.

"Do you have a safe word honey?" You nodded, then whispered a soft, "widow," when you saw that her eyes were waiting for more. "I can't wait to hear you use it." The redhead winked, then chuckled softly as she saw the way your eyes widened and your mouth fell open. "Don't worry now darling, I'll be gentle enough," her teeth grazed over your racing pulse. "Rough is fi-fine," you practically shrieked, hands flying up to grip and claw at her shoulder blades to drive home the need.

Natasha nodded with a smirk, not only hearing your message loud and clear, but finding it appealing too.

However, she believed in more of the long game, she slowly, painstakingly so, began to kiss all over your body, purposefully missing both sets of your slick lips. Open mouthed and fervent the more she got into it, leaving behind dribbles of spit along the various spots of injured skin as she'd claimed you without asking.

There was no need to ask to claim what's already yours, with you sleeping in her hoodie the ties were sowed, so all she was doing was making sure the world knew too.

Once she felt satisfied with the way your body looked, and more so how easily she'd gotten you to squirm, she devoured you wholly, her tongue slid in and out of your oozing hole until she could feel you growing restless. She’d crawled back up your body and pressed a kiss to your parted lips just as soon as she was released by your quivering thighs. A smile stretched her face as she saw the clear effect she had, you harshly panted as she'd worked you up so well, and she wasn’t even done.

You blinked a few times, clearing your vision only to be met with her blackened eyes. Part of you was terrified, but the other part was more so antsy for what was going to come next. Her eyes spoke to you, whispering promises of something you couldn’t quite decipher. Your heart was hopeful for love, but your heated body prayed for the opposite, it craved the widows carnality.

After only a second of time to think you got an answer, as did she as you couldn't stop a moan, but she did as her tongue seductively slid over yours while her middle and pointer fingers abruptly divorced inside of you. It wasn’t like the stretch of your strap had been, that was nothing but a filling up, her fingers were slender, but it was somehow better just because it was her doing it.

Natasha wasn’t the only one dreaming of this moment. Every training session ended the same, with you in the shower fucking yourself senseless to thoughts of her.

The redhead could feel that honesty with every thrust of your jittery hips that met her fingers, she truly felt liberated from the confines of your former student-teacher roles. It couldn’t be wrong when it felt this good; having you beneath her felt prophetic, and if today hadn’t been your last day together before you were tested by Fury she would have had to resign.

There was no going back to the grey area between the roles now, the blurred lines were finally washed away, that much was clear as you arched off the bed with a sultry cry of her name; Natasha officially had a new job, and that was to have you trembling and desperate for her, which you were, it was borderline humiliating.

Every move she made was intimately sloppy, the way her fingers prodded at your sensitive walls had you mewling around her tongue that played chicken with yours, intermixed with sharp inhales that wordlessly spoke to the woman above you of a job well done.

"You're so desperate," she acknowledged in a purr against your swollen, parted lips. Your inability to keep up broke the kiss apart, and allowed her a chance to take her teasing up a level. "This pussy is crying..."

"Natasha..."

"Do you remember what I say to you when we train?" Natasha knew it was cruel to ask you such a thing as your mind was blanked, with her fingers doing their best work inside of your velvety, clenched warmth.

"You can't keep being late and expect not to be punished Y/N," she taunted, a rough chuckle felt against your cheek as she removed her fingers. You whined, "I-I, Natasha please, I need you," just as she expected you to, and she brought the wet pads of her fingers up to your pulsing clit. "I always remind you too, that I call the shots detka, you’re far too precious to know what’s best Y/N, so hush yourself and relax."

The redhead rolled her eyes when she found your glossy ones already boring into hers, then without anymore hesitation she filled you up with a thick strap you'd left out, once again making her think this was what you wanted to happen from the start. Strong, eager hands held your hips down as she picked up a quick pace, her breath was hardly even different aside from the deeper rasp as she rutted her hips into you and whispered her filthiest dreams. Meanwhile you came with a loud whine and tears that pleaded with her to stop, but Natasha only rolled her hips faster.

"I'm not letting you go until you've either drenched the sheets, or passed out," she growled against the welted skin of your throat, her teeth nipped at the fresh sores, a display of her brutal carnality.

You were a panting mess at the mere threat of more, you were already sensitive from your private session. "I-I can't take anymore, please," you managed to stutter, but your resistance was as weak as your cunts grip. Natasha was ruthless, and since you didn't utter your chosen safe word she happily continued, "You can take it, and you'll do it graciously, one more complaint and I'll edge you all month."

"M-month?" Natasha rolled her eyes, she was strap deep inside of you, lips marking up your skin and still you questioned her attachment. Though that frustrated her, there was a rare softness to her tone that held a much deeper meaning. "If you thought this was a one time thing you were mistaken lyubov'." Natasha's lips pressed to yours right after her half baked confession, intent on devouring your soul as it left your body with the next deep thrust of her thick strap. "You're as good as mine now Y/N," she sighed against you as she felt the waves of pleasure ripple off your convulsing body.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered in amusement only moments later as your body relaxed and her eyes caught sight of your peaceful sleeping face. Natasha settled in beside you, strong arms wrapped around you to pull you closer, a sigh of relief followed, "My girl."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #black widow #black widow smut

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jihyoruri · 5 months

Text

OBSESSED — idol!sakura miyawaki x idol reader warnings: yn is a member of blackpink, sakura is obsessed with yn, sakura is also a little impulsive

she watched as the girl gracefully walked past her and group, the sounds from the stage and all around filled the japanese girls ears as her gaze scanned over you, from your pretty face all the way down to your body how can someone be so graceful?

oh how she hated you oh she hated you so much.

sakura honestly thought that she’d never have to run into you in person but oh how she was wrong, when the hell did mandatory award shows become a thing?

your group was known for not coming to award shows, it was yg thing she could say or could she say a blackpink thing? the groups social status is so big that award shows just weren’t that important at the moment, nobody thought that biggest girl group would be here.

she really hoped the biggest girl group wouldn’t be here, she hoped you wouldn’t be here.

but when she saw the biggest boy group along with other big third generation acts walking the red carpet, she knew you would be here.

she tried her best to keep her eyes off of you, she really did try but she couldn’t, how could someone be so perfect?

sakura knew everything about the certain blackpink member all the way down to her blood type, she’s spent days analyzing your vlogs, your fancams, your interviews you’d think she was in love with yn with the way she knew so much about you.

but she couldn’t help it, she needed to know why you had everyone so wrapped around your finger.

she needed to why her girlfriend had such a perfect ex?

she couldn’t keep her gaze off of you after you walked past her and her group, you were so close to her is she hallucinating or could she smell you? was your perfume that strong?

she watched as you sat with your group, your presence so strong that everyone’s eyes were on you and the way you softly whispered to jennie with an even more soft smile of your face.

sakura felt herself subconsciously fix her posture when she saw how perfect yours was, she felt someone nudge her shoulder but she didn’t respond just completely keeping her gaze on you.

“oh my gosh, why are you staring at her like that?”

sakura turned her head immediately at yunjin who looked at her with question.

“what?” the girl responded, brushing her hair out of her face bashfully, “staring at who?”

“yn sunbaenim.” yunjin says nodding towards the girl that had sakura so infuriated, “I get it she’s ethereal but you’re shooting laser beams into her head.”

sakura groaned and leaned her head back, was she that obvious?

“shouldn’t you be staring at your girlfriend?” yunjin added before pointing towards the group that sat right beside blackpink, twice.

sakura immediately took a look at her girlfriend before taking a look at you, this is her nightmare come true.

sakura cleared her throat and placed her hands in her lap, “if you may know that’s her ex…”

there was silence for a minute before yunjin hit her shoulder, “shut up! no way.”

“yn is sana’s ex?” the girl says rather loudly grabbing the attention of their leader, chaewon leaned over to them shock on her face, “is that why you asked me why her nose is so perfect angrily the other day?”

sakura opens her mouth but the sound of loud music cut her off, implying that the award show was going to start so instead she just waved the two girls off.

once the mc started talking, sakura found her eyes making their way to yn again, but this time she wasn’t met with the girls back of her head she was met with the girls side profile which was unfairly perfect I’m sakura’s eyes.

she watched as yn talked quietly to lisa, she picked up on how graceful the girls mannerisms were. it was like everything she did was perfect.

before sakura could find herself getting to deep into her thoughts about you, yunjins voice rang through her head, “shouldn’t you be staring at your girlfriend?”

sakura looked at her girlfriends group, easily finding her girlfriends head but just like yn instead of the back of sana’s head, sakura is met with the girls side profile.

she followed where sana’s head was directed only for it to lead to yn, sakura raised a brow as she watched her girlfriend stare at you.

now this was her problem, how do you have such a hold on everyone? how do you still have such a hold on her girlfriend? was yn really just that perfect?

yes, yes you were.

and sakura knew that, of course she knew that, she practically knew everything about you, but it still wasn’t enough for her.

she wanted to feel what you made sana feel, what you made everyone around you feel.

the rest of the award show was blur for sakura, she couldn’t even remember how it felt when she was performing but what she did remember was when blackpink came up for their award.

sakura was in awe when you walked up on that stage your face big on the screen, it seemed like the camera man was just as in love with you as everyone else.

sakura didn’t even listen to the words that came out of your mouth when your members pushed you, their youngest member to the mic, all she could do was stare at your beauty.

it took everything in sakura to look away from you, the only thing going through her head is how lucky sana was.

sakura felt a big surge of relief when the show was over, she could finally go home and not have your presence weighing on her.

“can you get us some water bottles? I saw some in the hall.” chaewon asks sakura who nods and makes her way out of their backstage room.

she gets a text from her girlfriend she tells her that her group already left so they won’t be able to see each other tonight. sakura was too into her phone to even realize the body in front of her.

sakura bumps right into the girls back causing both of them to stumble.

“oh my gosh I’m so sorr-” sakura cuts herself off when he realizes who’s in front of her, oh my gosh.

“oh, its okay.” you say brushing yourself off before flashing sakura a charming smile making the girl want to gouge her eyes out. “you’re sana’s girlfriend right? I know her pretty well.”

sakura just stands there not answering cause you to look at her in confusion, “uh, are you okay?”

embarrassment finds its way to sakura’s face as she shakes of her nerves, “yeah I’m okay, I’m so sorry and yes I am sana’s girlfriend.” she says rushingly.

“how is she? I haven’t talk to her in a while.” you ask.

“she’s good.” sakura says calmly, but she’s freaking out on the inside, she’s talking to the girl that’s been on her mind since her and sana started dating. “congratulations on your award I’m a big fan.” literally.

“thank you so much.” yn says brightly, “you’re performance was amazing, the choreo was interesting it looks fun to learn.”

before sakura’s brain can even process anything it comes out of her mouth, “maybe I can teach you it.” she cringes before cursing herself, why would her girlfriends ex girlfriend want to learn from her?

you raise a brow before smiling and putting a hand on sakura’s shoulder and she feels herself going weak, “that would be so cool.”

sakura feels relief wash all over her and a smile makes its way to her face, she’s finally going to the see the real you, the you that has everyone wrapped around your finger.

she’s finally going to experience what everyone feels.

“text me.” you say before walking in the opposite direction, probably to your members.

sakura watches as you walk away, her stomach all I knots before she realizes, “wait- I don’t have your number.”

“ask sana.” yn says over her shoulder sending sakura another heart melting smile.

sakura stares before looking down at her phone, ask sana..

sana shouldn’t have a problem with her ex girlfriend and girlfriend hanging out right? she would probably be happy seeing the two of you being friends.

right?

#sakura miyawaki #Lesserafim #lesserafim headcanons #lesserafim x reader #sakura x reader #sakura miyawaki x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim angst #twice #girl group imagines

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reverieblondie · 5 months

Text

Clumsy Kitty: Part 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Blackcat Fem!!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, oral (fem receiving), Teasing, Spanking, Inquiries, slight angst? Unprotected Penetrative Sex, Miguel dosen't communicate well and neither do you.

Summary: After your night with a specific grumpy spider you test the limits to your new found...relationship?

A/N: So I rewrote this a lot because this originally wasn't supposed to have a part two but here we are! Hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Word Count: 6,157 (I wish I knew how to write smaller fics!)

Eyes still shut you are leaning on the warmest thing you have ever felt. It's so silky soft you can’t help but nuzzle your face deeper. The smooth breathing and the sound of a steady heartbeat lolls you further into a relaxed state.

Very gently you feel the solid warm mass being replaced with a cool pillowly feeling, you feel yourself pout from the loss of warmth but you're too exhausted, your body feeling too drained to even muster a protest. The warmth is back for a single moment, it softly brushes from over your swollen lips to your cheek. The soft touch makes you drift further into the sweet darkness of rest.

Almost as quick as it was to slip into your slumber you are rushing to awaken from it. Opening your eyes abruptly you are met with the sight of your room, lying in your sheets, wrapped in your comforter smelling like the detergent you used to clean all your clothes. Blinking for a couple of minutes your brain goes over everything that happened last night.

Going to lean up your now awake body feeling painfully sore, Plopping back down you feel the soreness everywhere your arms, your legs, your throat, your aching sex. Spider-Man or scratch that Miguel did a number on you. Though you would do it again, you plan to do it again.

Stretching your arms you hear your bones pop and the soreness stretch through your shoulders, where's the damn Tylenol? Getting up, the rest of your body aching from standing awake you finally look over to your nightstand where a note catches your eye. A paper folded to stand says ‘Take me’ and there's an arrow pointing down to a pill. Ah, plan B smart.

Grabbing the pill and the card you walk to your restroom, examining the card you assume to be from Miguel you take in how nice his handwriting is, and turning the card over you see another message for you, ‘stay out of trouble’. A small chuckle leaves your lips and you stand in your small bathroom.

“Stay out of trouble huh?” you say with a smirk, looking back to the pill you laugh slightly again before unceremoniously dropping the pill in the toilet and flushing it down.

Probably should tell Spidy you're on the pill, no plan B needed, and also there is no way in hell you're going to be staying out of trouble now, not when you've got so deliciously rewarded for your little escapades. Now the trick will be how to see him again…you know now where his little clubhouse’s location and you could always do your tried and true getting into trouble, though what if you should try to see him out of the suit, like just regular people…would that even work? Could you even find him?

Losing yourself in thought you run through the possibilities, though one thing rings in your mind, does he want to see you again? Whelp, that's just something you will have to figure out.

Taking a deep breath you look at your reflection in the mirror, time to get ready for another mundane day. Though your day was sure to be as mundane as any other, the excitement of what the night could hold has you looking forward to your day.

Now, you might be crazy or just too dickmotized but going into the same museum that you had first met Spider-man seemed like an almost romantic way to meet him again. Poetic really. Walking through the museum you walked around looking for something good to snatch up. Your eyes fall on some relic-looking thing in a glass box with lots of lasers to set off, perfect!

Public eye hot your tail, and you're running from them hoping from building to building then finally slipping to the underground, a place they are sure to lose you in. It worked but you're a bit disappointed, Miguel failed to appear. Now stuck with some relic you don’t even want you to start to make your trek back to your apartment.

Swinging from building to building, you stop to rest in a dark alley, you need to work out more if you're going to keep this up. Taking your breather you fail to hear the person sneaking up behind you.

Suddenly a large hand is placed over your mouth while the other wraps tightly around your waist. Being pressed against the solid body of your capture you only panicked for a moment before feeling that familiar warmth. Turning your head you see that it’s the masked vigilante himself pressing you close. Dragging you further into the ally, and you let him lead the way. Finally being secluded enough to his liking he releases you. While he releases you he grabs the relic from your hand.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of trouble?” Miguel places the relic to the side before he crosses his arms, you know under that mask he's giving you that furrowed brow look of disappointment.

“Oh well you know old habits die hard,” You say slowly getting closer to him. You reach your hand out to touch his chest but he quickly grabs your wrist before you can touch him. Looking at him you're a bit confused but filled with anticipation.

Pulling you closer he causes you to crash into him holding you tightly, more bruises for your already sore body. You can't help but feel that familiar excitement from the last time you two were this close.

“Kitty, I told you to keep out of trouble, if you keep up this bad behavior I will be forced to do something about it…”

Oh, this is perfect, he is definitely into your bad girl behavior, “Well then do something abou-” Before you can even finish your sentence, you are turned around and quickly pinned to the nearest wall.

“You're in trouble now gata, now count…”

“Count-” Right as you're saying the word back to him you feel a hard slap across your ass. Mouth hanging open in surprise you don’t even know what to do. The rush of excitement makes your lower stomach tighten as you feel that familiar tingling. Hands grip hard to the wall and you brace yourself.

“Count…” his gruff voice demands in your ear.

“One” turning your face still against the wall you see that he’s still in that damned mask. The eyes narrow at you then another spank strikes you making a quick moan escape you. Your body shakes in excitement, “Two”

Miguel's large hand can be felt running up your body from your hip to your breast massaging gently. It's a completely different feeling from the sharp slap following the gesture. “Th-three” you stutter out, the spanking is degrading enough but forcing you to count, it was making your slick pool in your panties.

A fourth slap and you're starting to feel the stinging pain welling up on your cheek. After mewing out “four” you feel him rub his large hand on the plush flesh of your bottom. The sweet gesture has you arching yourself towards him feeling his length straining in his suit.

As you're grinding your ass against him, he moves his hand away, reeling back. Knowing what’s going to follow you shying away from the incoming spank before he’s even done it.

Soft lips are then pressed to your neck and his hand moves from your breast to grip your chin. Feeling his desperate open mouth kisses burning against your neck, your eyes rolling as he approaches the shell of your ear, nipping slightly.

“Don’t shy from it now bad girl, take your punishment…” nodding your head slightly you still yourself as best you can, clenching your thighs and shutting your eyes tightly, bracing for the delicious sting.

The fifth spank comes down, but it’s gentle still felt but not as hard as the other four. The warmth of his body moves away from you and you can’t help how you almost whine missing his warmth so close to you. -you’ve got it bad…

Turning around still pressed against the wall you see his mask is off and he's smirking at you, clearly proud of himself. And he should be, your body is heated, face flushed, and panties are ruined. If the goal was to turn you on and take you in the alley it was working and you were willing.

Though, to your disappointment, he grabs the relic you stole instead of ravishing you further.

“Was that supposed to teach me a lesson? I think you could have done more than that” you tease trying to get a reaction.

“What do you even need this for?” Miguel tosses the relic in the air and catches it casually.

“To lure you out spidy” Danm, getting good at this confident banter.

Miguel shoots you a look that you easily read as he silently says ‘really’, you can’t help but laugh, “You're the one who keeps rewarding my bad behavior” This gets a soft chuckle from him. -Hell yeah! Fall for my charm spidy.

Miguel's mask goes back over his face and before he goes to swing off into the night Miguel tosses the stolen relic back to you, “Make sure you be a good kitty and take that back.”

Going to grab the relic, you're trying your best to catch the priceless artifact. However, you have never been good at catching.

The relic fumbles in your hands before it crashes onto the ground breaking into pieces. The impact makes your hands fly to cover your mouth to hold in your yelp, this is not good… Slowly you lift your eyes to Miguel as he stares down at the ruined artifact before he slowly rises to view your shocked face.

“Really…” his voice says dryly

“I wasn’t expecting you to throw it!”

Breaking a priceless artifact and then haphazardly gluing it back together before returning it to the museum was not one of your prouder moments. Can’t say it didn’t fit in with the bad girl persona, even without trying you were slipping into your naughty girl ego. Though Miguel didn’t exactly seem happy about a priceless relic being destroyed. -whoops

You would just have to make it up to him. Did it involve you breaking into somewhere and stealing? Yes, but you made sure to steer clear of anything too irreplaceable so you opted for Alchemax, a place that every time you sunk it Miguel was a forsure arrival.

It was the chase that had your mouth watering, barely slipping through Spider-Man’s fingers as you ran away with whatever bullshit seemed important. Honestly it didn’t matter, he was chasing you with that taunting tone of come back and you were swinging and climbing barely out of reach. Miguel could have caught you easily, he was stronger and way more agile in the air than you, but something told you he was enjoying chasing his prey as you led him closer and closer to your apartment.

Spider-man catches the bad blackcat to face justice, and if the place he so happens to catch you in was your apartment then so be it. Sure the neighbors would be confused about who this so-called Miguel is as they file a noise complaint about you. But he had to be rough with you slamming into you over and over as you begged for forgiveness and promised to be a good girl. How else would he teach such a bad girl a lesson?

Too lost in the thrill of the chase and the fantasy of the night in store for you; you don’t notice that your grappling claw is releasing at a delay. So, once you jump off the side of the building and shoot for the next, it jams.

Panicking, you're trying to release it but it's not reacting and now you're falling. The ground is fast approaching as the neon lights of the city blur in your vision. You're quickly trying to find something to grab or something to land on. This is something you have never thought would happen and now it’s happening, you should have planned better. Trying not to panic you can’t help how you slip a cry of Miguel's name, slipping his identity is a major no no but you don’t know how else to convey you are in trouble.

Though your outing of his name isn’t even registering to him right now, he just sees you falling to the ground; panic consuming him. In an instant, he's jumping down, crawling, falling, then grabbing you in a bone-breaking embrace. The force of him hitting you in such a desperate attempt has you both crashing into the nearest building's window. Breaking and entering unintentionally.

A throbbing pain can be felt on your head and talons can be felt piercing through your suit and skin, holding you so tightly in his burning warmth. The blazing warmth of the tight embrace almost has you not registering how the blood weeps from your wounds. Breathing in a stutter from the adrenaline and from how he is almost crushing you, it only tightens further until you can relinquish one steady breath that eases him. Pulling away from him you can only imagine what's behind his mask in this moment, anger, happiness, relief, fear?

Suddenly a sharp pain makes your brows furrow and your hand shoots towards the pain, placing your hand to your side you feel it then looking down you see it. A shard of glass embedded into your side blood coating the transparent intrusion. Not used to such injuries you scream then almost faint but Miguel is swift to catch you in his arms. An injury like this is nothing to him you assume from his apparent calm demeanor.

“Really I will be fine” You sat on the couch as you heard Miguel shuffling around your bathroom muttering to himself. With his mask off, you see that it is not a calm or even a pitting demeanor; he’s irritated and it seems to be pointed at you.

Coming back into view you see he has managed to scrunch up some supplies to help take care of you. Laying all the supplies on the table he doesn't meet your eyes. Feeling guilty about the whole situation your eyes fall to the floor, this was not what you had in mind for the evening.

Fingers caress your chin making you look and meet his eyes, those eyes…absolutely hypnotic…you can’t help how you slowly lean in wanting to kiss him. But he moves his head back slightly avoiding your advance, looking down at your side still impaled with the glass and his face twists into further irritation.

“This might hurt,” he says dryly.

“What?” swiftly Miguel pulls the glass from your side, honestly not all as deep and bad as you had originally thought, But the sudden yanking out of you is painful.

“Son of a bitch!” you yipe at the sting. The stinging pain was quickly dissipating as Miguel worked tentatively to patch up the wound. Honestly, him playing doctor with you was making your stomach swarm with butterflies.

Wanting to flirt and tease him you decide against it as you look down at his face. Seeing him with a serious face was nothing new for you but in this moment there was an air about him that was making you walk on eggshells. Miguel had hardly said anything to you this whole time, he was just speaking under his breath or just giving sharp commands.

“Okay strip, I need to patch the rest” Miguel demands as he stands away from you.

Gently you run your hand along your side where he had bandaged you up. Looking up at your hero, he’s refusing to meet your gaze as he is prepping alcohol on a cotton pad and setting up more bandages for you.

Standing carefully you start to disarm your gadgets and slip off your suit letting it pool onto the ground beneath you. Having to strip down in front of him has your face blooming in a deep blush. Yes, the man has seen you naked, hell he’s been inside you but the situation still makes your stomach flutter.

Once stripped to your underwear Miguel gently turns you around to observe the inquiries to your back. Softly his hand traces where his talons had punctured and scratched your skin. The dried blood trails down your back and he is extra gentle as he cleans you up with a rag. Applying the alcohol to the wounds makes you tense releasing a hiss, the sting disinfects and cleans the marks. Tension in the air is thick as he gently begins to patch your wounds with bandages, you hear him faintly whisper an apology as his large hands work on you. Unsure if he meant for you to hear the apology you just hum softly.

Once you're finally patched up he moves away from you and starts packing away the supplies. Softly you thank him and he only hums in response still avoiding meeting your eyes. Awkwardness makes you fidget and you excuse yourself to your room to put on something. Miguel is always quiet and sure he is not the most commutative but he’s acting strange, even if he was mad at you from past experiences with him you know he wouldn’t shy away from telling you that he was mad at you, so what's his deal?

Quickly you slip your shirt and shorts on returning to the living room. Sat on the couch you see Miguel looking down at your suit and gadgets neatly folded and placed on the coffee table. Seeing him still in your apartment has you surprised, with the way he has been quiet you were sure he was angry with you and would have slipped out but he’s still here…Maybe he wants to stay and look after you for the night! That would be a welcomed surprise!

“Can I get you some coffee?” you ask eagerly while rushing towards the kitchen, but as you are rushing to make coffee you stub your toe on the couch leg as you are passing it; letting out a sharp cry as you hold your foot. How did this hurt more than the glass?

“You can’t even walk in your apartment without hurting yourself.” Miguel laments, shaking his head as he walks past you making his way to the kitchen.

Shortly after Miguel is placing a hot coffee in front of you as you sit on the couch favoring your foot; he even places down sugar and creamer on the table. Looking up at him you see him drinking his coffee, steaming hot and black you assume based on his personality.

“Than-”

“I’m taking the suit and the stuff with me…” he interrupts sharply

“What? Why?” you ask confused.

“Are you serious? You almost died today! Look at you!” Miguel's eyes are piercing you as his body tenses further.

Deep down you know that Miguel was right, your inquiries could have been a lot worse if he wasn’t there, you understand that, but taking your suit to prevent you from being Blackcat was overreaching.

“Look what happened was scary but I am okay and I’m going to make sure to fix it where it doesn't happen again.” Reaching your hand out you step closer to him, but he backs away from you.

“So am I,” Miguel says dryly, staring daggers into you, unwavering in his decision.

Opening your mouth to further protest you are cut off by Miguel's watch beeping and his holo agent appearing. “Miguel, we have a situation that needs back up”

Miguel's eyes stay on you roaming over your figure watching the bruises slowly blooming on your skin and the patches he so tentatively wrapped you in.

“Tell them I’m on the way…”

“Right away~”

Miguel swiftly grabs your suit and gadgets from the coffee table heading towards your window to make his exit.

“Miguel, wait! You can’t leave now! This isn’t over!”

“That's where you're wrong…it is over…”

Stopping dead in your tracks you feel a sharp sting in your chest from his sharp words. Does he mean the conversation or does he mean…

“Wait!”

Halfway out of the window he turns to look at you cutting you off again, “Just finish your coffee and for once listen to me.”

The pain and confusion must be evident on your face because, for a split second, you see his face go from irritated to concerned before his watch goes off again, making him break his stare and slip out your window into the restless night. Taking your alter ego with him leaving your head whirling.

Who does he think he is? Taking your stuff and leaving! Taking away the one thing that was keeping your life entertaining! If he thinks he can just take your stuff without consequence he has another thing coming! Plus what did he mean by over? Does he mean your crimes or did he mean…you two?

It had been two days and you had healed up and couldn't take it anymore. Sneaking into his HQ you were ready to enact petty revenge. It was a lot easier to break in this time, maybe it was the fact that you had done it before or the fact that you were driven by your anger but you were a cat on a mission!

Miguel taking the things that you worked painstakingly hard to create was driving you mad, little did that grump know you made an extra set of grappling claws for emergencies like this. Though you didn't have another suit you had to just settle on an all-black ensemble, not as super thief looking but the hoodie was comfortable.

Starting off sneaking in, were you quickly seen by multiple spider-people? Employees? Whatever, they didn't seem to care about you being in there very much, a few even waved at you saying “Miguel's cats here” or some cat-related pun. You weren't listening, just focused on getting to his office.

Finally making it to the dark office you can’t help how your chest aches from being in the place that took your criminal x superhero relationship up a notch. Up to a level that you were not exactly sure what it was or how to define it. Complicated? Enemies with benefits? though now that the two of you were upset with each other you were even more confused.

How do you even talk to him about this? Do you talk to him about this? Shit, are you here making an idiot of yourself? Just had to like the hero ....you're not good at this bad girl game…

Rummaging around his office you do not care if you're making a ruckus or even a mess. You wanted Miguel to show his stupidly handsome face, and give him a nice verbal thrashing of all the things you thought to say after he left.

There was a part of you that wished this would end up like the last time you were here, ending with you wrapped in his arms…growing closer…this alter ego is how you got to see him after all, it's not like you have ever met as civilians, hell, you didn't even know how you two would find each other…you didn’t even know his last name.

Stopping with a sigh you start to think of the word “over”. Was that his way of ending things, this, whatever it was with you…the thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Now here you are so desperate for his attention, to keep it going after he told you to stop…there is no way this ends well right?

“He’s not here” A voice suddenly startles you. Looking around you try and pinpoint where it’s coming from then you look up. Walking casually on the ceiling you see a lanky-looking man in an odd-looking spider suit with a pink robe, he smiles at you before he drops down in front of you.

“Where is he then?”

“He's been out on a mission, I think he’s coming back soon though. Do you want to wait for him? Or I can call-”

“Don’t!” you say quickly cutting him off, he gives you a quizzical look.

“We aren't exactly on friendly terms right now”

“Then…Uh whatcha doing here, stray?”

“Stray?” you quickly shake off the comment “There was a slight accident, and he got all grumpy spider and took my suit and gadgets, so I am just getting revenge. Don’t try to stop me.” the man seems to only laugh at your comments so you look around for something to take till something catches your eye “How about that white and red suit? Seems important…”

“Yeah, I would advise against that. I think taking things is only going to escalate things.”

Huffing you lean against a nearby desk crossing your arms. “Then what should I do?”

The man laughs before he speaks, “Cat, you're asking for advice about a very complicated guy…”

Sighing you feel a mixture of emotions swell through you, the man leans against the desk next to you, “Have you tried talking to him?”

“This isn’t exactly a very communicative relationship, I don’t even know if he even likes me or if I am just entertaining him…”

“Oh, he likes you,” you can’t help at how you light up at that comment looking at him with pleading eyes, wanting to hear more.

“He has been in such a better mood with you around, and get this, he doesn't even mind the cat jokes. Plus..” He leans closer to whisper in your ear “I’ve seen him looking at pictures of you”

“Really,” You try to hide your enthusiasm but it seeps through making the man laugh and nod yes.

“If you ask me he seems to like you”

“He said this was done, and the bastard didn’t even bother to elaborate on what he meant!”

“So why don’t you ask him? The first time you confronted him worked out for you, why not do it again?”

“Yeah but…that was confronting Spider-Man, not Miguel whatever his name…”

The man thinks for a moment then a smirk stretches over his lips before he snaps his fingers “I have an idea!”

Either this Peters guy’s plan was completely brilliant or completely idiotic. Here you are, broken into Miguel's apartment in Babylon Tower. Waiting for him to come home to talk to him. Talking to him in his office you thought would have been better but Peter was instant that you come here. Something about forcing Miguel out of his Spider-Man ego and the shocked look on his face.

Sitting in his apartment was pretty surreal. You two have only met in costume, and now here you are unmasked and waiting for him. This felt like something people in relationships would do, not whatever you two are.

As you sit waiting in anticipation the moment finally arrives. You hear Miguel's front door opening with his holo agent greeting him and informing him that he has a visitor in the living room. Miguel rightfully looking confused approaches the room quickly, stopping in his tracks when his crimson gaze falls on you.

Watching his face contort from confusion to irritation back to confusion he finally starts to ask a question but you are the one to cut him off this time.

“I need to talk to you and…this is what your friend Peter suggested.”

Miguel rolls his eyes “Of course he did…”

Placing his eyes back on you he approaches. Coming closer, you're able to see him in his normal attire out of the iconic Super-suit, oddly he’s still as intimidating. Muscles still bulging with every movement. The shirt he was wearing was basically crying against his wide chest, One sharp movement and you're sure it would rip into a bunch of tiny pieces.

“I’m guessing you're not here to talk about getting your stuff back considering you broke in here without issue” -Okay not seeming mad this is a good start.

“Actually I do want those back but that’s a later conversation. I’m here now to talk to you about…us?” you can’t help but cringe at your own words sounding so pathetic.

Miguel on the other hand seems unfazed, “what about us?”

“Are…Is this thing over? Or was this not ever even a thing? I mean you're a hero and I'm just a thief and not even a few good one either…” As you're rambling on you fail to notice Miguel inching closer keeping his cold gaze fixed on you.

Once you finally look up Miguel has moved so close to you that he is practically pinning himself against you. All your words begin to die off as he lifts his hand to cup your cheek gently stroking your soft skin. It's almost like he’s petting you to soothe you.

“Cat…”

“Spidy…”

Leaning down his warm breath fans across your face, those blazing eyes burning into yours.

“I couldn’t be done with you even if I tried”

“Mig-”

True to himself he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is different from your first kiss, it’s gentler. Holding onto you as if you were made of glass, Kissing you as if you are precious to him. And you are…

Beginning to move his lips against yours he opens your mouth effortlessly, then capturing your bottom lip between his teeth he pulls back and lets go making your lip pop back and swell instantly from the teasing bite.

The sensation makes you moan pressing yourself flush to his body, that warmth of his is still intoxicating to you. Moving your head to expose your neck he kisses your sensitive skin with hot open mouth kisses that lick and bite at you. Shuddering at each kiss you feel yourself getting slick between your thighs.

“Your Mine” His rough voice purs before he's lifting you effortlessly causing you to curl your legs around his narrow hips. Miguel bounces you up and down a few times just because he can. The Motion has your cunt rubbing against his strained cock tenting his pants.

Miguel carries you to his bedroom commanding Layla to dim the lights. Pressing kisses desperately against each other you finally make it to the bedroom. Crashing into the mattress doesn't stop the pursuit of each other's lips. Getting drunk on one another's taste you're making quick work to get each other naked as quickly as possible pulling and tearing at the clothing. Mouth-watering as you finally pull away to admire Miguel's body shows his sculpted physique and perfect skin, you can’t help that you start licking up and down his chest making him shamelessly whimper.

Once he can’t take anymore he's tasting your skin but kissing from your neck, licking at your collarbone, then finally finding his place at your breast. Miguel is quick to latch his mouth onto your nipple, licking and biting causing you to moan out as he continues to suck, moving from one to the other and trailing his saliva all over you, practically marking you. His other hand fumbles with the button and zipper of your pants as he snakes his fingers underneath the hem to strip them off you.

Releasing from your swollen bud he is pulling your pants off completely. Looking down at you he spreads your legs apart to watch that glistening stain on your panties. Without reservation, he's leaning down lapping at your clothed cunt eating you through the thin fabric. Feeling him sucking and rubbing his hot tongue against your bundle of nerves has your toes curling and throwing your head back. Practically begging at this point you're pushing your sex against his face selfishly wanting to chase your high.

Popping out his talons he quickly disregarded your panties, throwing the remains to the floor. Lifting his eyes to meet yours he sees your desperate eyes lidded and mouth pouting for him to taste you fully, his lips curl into a grin.

“Such a needy girl.”

Whimpering at his taunts you spread your legs wider for him then take your hand to slide across your folds to spread yourself for him.

“My girl is begging like a damn slut…You want me to take care of you, baby?”

Nodding quickly he's quick to take care of you. Leaning down he flicks his tongue on your clit making you lift your hips off the bed. Keeping his tongue working on your clit he probes his finger into you, starting with his index finger and then moving in his middle both plunging knuckles deep, curling against your gummy walls. The closer you are to your orgasm the more you tangle your hands into his thick hair, Pulling him into you more. He was right, you are needy.

Feeling that familiar quivering of your cunt and the shakes from your body he’s licking faster, getting that white-hot pleasure rushing through you as you cream on his fingers. You swear you hear him chuckle before he pulls out his digits to lick up your essence.

Once he's done he's moving away from your weeping slit, already aching for more. Discarding his pants quickly he’s already crawling back on to you. The tip of his cock bobs up and down nudging along your cunt. Leaning down he kisses you desperately making you taste yourself on his tongue. Pulling away he pumps himself as he lines up to your entrance.

“Your mine…all mine…”

All you can do is nod and hum as if you're too drunk in anticipation to give out actual answers. Sliding in you gasp at the overwhelming stretch. Your cunt is so desperate to be filled you could feel yourself practically sucking him in and the feeling is not lost on him.

“Damn…if you keep sucking me in like that, I’m not going to be able to resist filling you up,”

Mumbling out a string of yes’s you curl your legs around him as he draws his hips back to where only the tip was in. Leaning down he nudges his nose against yours probing you for a kiss, arching forward to slide your lips hungrily against his.

Thrusting upwards he hits that sweet spot deep inside you causing you to break the kiss with a moan.

“That's my girl” Pulling out and rolling into you deeper he keeps praising you “My good, good, girl,” with each word he thrusts into you deeply making you shake and cry.

“So, tight..and mine…” his words slur together dripping with lust as he continues to fuck himself deeply into you. Both of you are approaching your highs feeling his cock throb in you as he continues to moan a symphony of ‘mine’ as he ruts into you.

As you begin to feel yourself clamp around his thick cock you hear him softly say your name making you clamp down harder humming to him.

“Say your mine,” His thrust began to speed up.

“I’m yours, always,” with that he rolls into you deeper making you squirt on his cock, making a creamy mess all over him.

Groaning and grinding against you, his orgasm finally washes over him. Miguel cummed in you, it was deep and hot like the first time setting your insides ablaze. Unhooking yourself from him you're surprised to feel him lean further into you, keeping himself in you.

In this position, you could feel his racing heartbeat.

“Say I’m yours…I…I need to hear you say it” looking up at you with his intense eyes and flushed face. The sudden vulnerability makes your heart skip. He made it clear that you were his but he wanted you to want him as much, and you did.

Cupping his cheek he leans into the soft touch, “Your mine Miguel…”

“You know, this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being Blackcat,” you say resting your head on his warm chest. Miguel just chuckles slightly as he lazily traces your side, carving your figure into memory.

“Yeah, I figured you still wouldn’t listen, But maybe you can be helpful to me instead.”

A huge smile stretch’s on your face, “Are you going to let me join the spider society?”

Miguel gently creases your chin and pulls you closer to his face, “perhaps if you learn not to be so clumsy” he quickly teases before he places a kiss on your nose.

Huffing you are not entertained by his teasing. Watching him with a pout you see that perfect body of his roll off the bed heading towards the bathroom.

“You know, you're not funny Mr.-” you stop. -Shit after all that you still don't know his lastname…

“O’Hara” His smooth voice breaks your thoughts.-O’Hara, huh?

“Now come on, I want to take a shower with my pretty girl before I have to go back to HQ”

“Your leaving me already?”

Miguel approaches wrapping his arms around you pulling you closer to his bare body. “Don’t worry pet, I plan on taking you with me.” Leaning down you feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear making a familiar heat shoot down to your stomach.

“Maybe I will even let you sit on my lap while I work…”

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