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ma1dita · 3 months

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bedtime stories

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift

a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe

(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)

—

Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.

Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.

It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it. At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.

A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.

Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.

“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”

“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.

“You always pin campers to trees?”

“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.

“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”

Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.

“You’re always doing the most, huh?”

“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.

“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.

“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”

“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.

He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.

Maybe that’s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.

Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.

As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.

Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.

“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”

The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.

“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?

“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”

She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”

Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”

Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.

“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”

“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.

“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”

“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.

“Hey! Jerk.”

“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.

“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.

“And vulgar! What a shocker.”

“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”

Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.

“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, trouble.”

A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.

Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.

“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.

“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.

“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.

“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”

You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend. Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.

Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.

Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.

“Sweet dreams, angelface.”

Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.

It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.

You’d never admit that, though.

—

“you steady me and stir me

all at once.”

-Tanya Wright

ask to be added to luke/general taglist!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo imagine #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x reader fanfic #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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exhaslo · 4 months

Text

Corruption Ch2

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

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Four Months Thirty Days until D-Day

A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally felt yourself come to. Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed that you were back in your apartment. Recalling what happened last, you let out another soft groan. Miguel must have been really annoyed and frustrated that you collapsed during his conversation.

Burying yourself into your bedsheets, you inhaled deeply. It was faint, but Miguel's cologne was still lingering on your clothes. Did he carry you here? Perhaps the cold hearted scientist did have a heart. Little things like this made you fall for Miguel even more.

Smiling like an idiot, you kept thinking about Miguel and his low soft voice. You rubbed your legs together and decided to pleasure yourself before calling him to apologize. Might as well enjoy this moment before he says something to ruin it.

Burying your head into the pillow, you let out soft moans as you started to touch and rub your clit. Miguel's voice repeating in your head. His little requests, stupid demands, but most of all, that teasing tone he gives you.

"How lacking. With how we pay you, this is all you can afford?" Miguel scoffed as he let himself into your room.

You gasped and covered your face with the blanket. So much for enjoying the moment. Why was Miguel still in your apartment?!

"Hm? Finally, you're awake. Do you realize I had to miss two days worth of experimenting?"

"I-I was asleep for two days?!"

"No. After you dragged me out of that mess yesterday, you collapsed and slept for one day exactly. You owe me." Miguel huffed as he helped himself to your seat. You covered your face with the blanket, hiding your pout,

"Sorry, sir. I'll make this up to you, you know I always do." You sighed, hoping he didn't hear your moans, "Um, why are you still at my apartment?"

"Why? Because I can."

Your smile never faded. What could you expect from him? Miguel always did what he wanted. Glancing over at Miguel, you could only imagine what he was thinking.

"Since you're now awake, I will take my leave. I will have my AI send you what was missed and a list of what I want done as payback. I will see you tomorrow." Miguel explained as he stood. You followed him out,

"Thanks again, Miguel. Sorry for being a burden." You apologized. Miguel glanced towards you, smirking,

"Think nothing of it. I shall let you return to your activity."

Your eyes widen as your face flustered. Miguel just let with a low, dark chuckle. He did hear you! Closing the door, you whined and felt tears threatening to spill. Miguel was far too cruel for you to handle, but hell, you still loved him.

You covered your face and ranted to yourself as you paced around your apartment. This job was going to be the death of you. Groaning at your own embarrassment, you kept pacing. After a while, you felt your shirt rising. Confused, you looked down,

"Huh? Where's my rug?" You muttered.

Looking up, you gasped, realizing that you were on the ceiling. Your eyes widen as you jumped down, freaking out about the whole thing. You grabbed your foot and stared at it, wondering how you managed to walk on the ceiling.

The Spider.

Your shoulders hung as you immediately thought about the Spider that bit you. All of Miguel's spiders were experimented on either thru radiation or some other sick experiment. The spider that bit you caused you to faint and now possibly changed your genetic make up.

"Oh no no no. If Miguel finds out...he's never going to let me go!" You gasped, covering your face at the thought of you on the metal table next, "I can't let him find out. I need to master this."

-----------

Miguel kept his smirk until he returned to his office. He found you so amusing sometimes. Other men would probably have pounced on you as you whimpered and moaned their name, but Miguel? Oh, he was going to hold onto this moment.

Your reactions is what Miguel keeps his antics going sometimes. Perhaps one day he will indulge himself, but just knowing that you were putty in the palm of his hand was enough.

"Sir?" Some knocked against the door.

Miguel's smirk once again disappeared. Now, who dared ruin his good mood? Allowing the person in, Miguel noticed that it was one of the scientists who was in charge of finding his spiders. Another man came in with a cart, rolling the enclosure inside the office.

"We were able to find all the spiders..."

"But?" Miguel hissed as he approached the two.

"B-But...one was...one seemed to have been stepped on and perished."

Miguel found the situation funny. He held his hand out and the second scientist was quick to give him the dead spider. Some found Miguel creepy when it came to things like this. The atmosphere in the room started to feel unsettling.

"Ah, I used gamma radiation on his spider, enhancing some of its abilities. Such a shame I won't be able to use it to its full potential," Miguel said with almost a sigh.

"S-Sir?"

The second scientist gasped in horror as Miguel grabbed the first scientist by the mouth. The sinister smirk that formed against Miguel's lips made the two terrified for what he was about to do. Miguel forced the scientist to sit down,

"Mhpm!!"

"Now, swallowing one spider shouldn't cause any harm. But, I wonder what swallowing this spider will do? You there, record what happens-"

"B-But sir, I don't have-"

"¡Inútil! (Useless)! (Y/N) would have already started!" Miguel spat and forced the scientist's mouth open, "Stop fucking squirming. You made the mess, now take your due punishment."

Screams filled the room as Miguel forced the dead spider down the scientist's throat. A roar of laughter came from Miguel as he watched the poor man try to puke or cough out the spider. It didn't take long for him to start screaming in pain and begging for mercy.

Miguel kicked his hand away, since the scientist was only making this more difficult for himself. Within the minute, blood was coughed onto Miguel's floor and the scientist was convulsing.

"How dramatic. You there, did you record the reaction?"

"S-Sir, we need to-"

"Did. You. Record?" Miguel said slowly as he glared into the man's soul.

"...No..."

"That's fine. Wasn't anything important. You may leave," Miguel said calmly.

"...Goodbye...sir..."

Miguel scoffed slightly since he found everyone so annoying and useless. No one could pick up his sarcasm except you. Calling security, Miguel watched the monitors as the second scientist was taken by the guards and placed in his test subject room.

"(Y/N), you owe me."

---------

It was defiantly the spider. Not long after you figured out that you can walk and crawl on walls, you also found out that you had organic webbing. You cried for a solid five minutes since you absolutely hated spiders and now you felt like one.

You "accepted" your fate as a genetically modified human, and had no choice but to live with it. Who knows what Miguel would do to you if he found out. He would be obsessed with studying you, yet jealous that he could not create what you became.

"Okay, okay. I can walk on walls, make my own webbing...I'm afraid to know what else I can do..." You muttered to yourself.

Biting your nail, you wondered what you were going to do with these new abilities. Gasping, you hurried to your work tablet and pulled up Miguel's research.

"Spiderman." You whispered.

Miguel was fascinated with the Great Hero Age. Miguel wanted to recreate some of those long gone heroes, Spiderman being one of them. Spiderman was a hero who brought criminals to justice. He helped other heroes bring down big bads like Kingpin.

As if a lightbulb appeared above your head, you immediately shot up with a plan. After mastering your new found abilities, you could become Spider woman and stop Alchemax. Perhaps you can bring Miguel over from the dark side and help him.

It was going to take a lot of time, but you had confidence. You could do this. If the original Spiderman could, then why couldn't you? It wasn't like there were crazy big bad villains like there were back in the day. Perhaps just one or two that you've heard of...

But no real Villains.

---------

Miguel sat in his dark apartment, holding a glass of whiskey in the palm of his hand. His glare towards the city below as he thought of ways to improve humans. To enhance them and make them better beings.

"Miguel, the list is ready for me to send to (Y/N)." Lyla appeared, informing him. Miguel drank his liquor,

"Add a praise of your choosing."

"Yes Miguel~" Lyla chirped and disappeared.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he moved away from his window. One of these days he will have a success. Laying on his couch, Miguel let out a heavy sigh. Why did everyone have to test his patience? Who cares if one or two people died?

They were sacrifices for the greater good. It wasn't like Miguel was doing this for fun. It was for science. Miguel believed that nothing he did was wrong. In fact, by the end of all of this, the world will praise him for being a Hero.

As if those exist.

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Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

If you’re looking for ideas: Riding Virgin Eddie’s face.

what the fuck i'm losing my absolute shit over this.

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral f receiving, handjobs, corruption kink, dirty talking, lil bit of angst and confusion, lots of words of praise (being called pretty, handsome), dumbification (reader thinks eddie is a bit of an idiot).

Word Count | 3k

A/N | at this point i think i need some fucking help because what the hell am i actually playing at doing this again when i literally just posted the last part yesterday. anyway, i need to take a cold shower after this.

Things are a bit awkward for a while after your previous encounter with Eddie, which saddens you. He was acting more awkward than usual, he tensed up whenever you'd brush by him and things in general just weren't quite how they used to be. There was a shift in energy and you'd come to the conclusion that you'd scared him off.

He didn't even catch a ride home with you anymore, his van finally getting fixed just as Winter crept in, which meant you didn't get to corner him anywhere to press him on it.

Maybe Eddie just isn't interested in me, maybe he's gone out and found another girl instead (which is fine, you definitely wouldn't ponder on it too long and you definitely didn't feel a pang of hurt in your chest at the thought), maybe it had awakened something in him and he decided he wasn't interested in sex at all.

Either way, you were giving him his space and waiting for him to come to you when he was ready. Because, irregardless of how you felt about him and how you ached to have his fingers and mouth all over you again, you also were respectful of boundaries and you knew not to push him when he wasn't ready.

It's a particularly quiet Monday shift, Christmas had been and gone and that left the January slump. You're sitting perched pretty on a twirling stool, swinging it back and forth a little with your foot that's resting on a bit of wood below your feet. Your chin is in your hand as you lean onto the counter, big jumper drowning you to block out the chill of the cool, snowy air blasting through the drafty door every so often.

Eddie is... well he's Eddie. Keeping himself occupied arranging some new tapes that had come in just before Christmas when you had no time to sort them. He wasn't usually so quick to actually do the work you were paid to do, usually sat on his ass all day like you did and would flip through his weird comic books.

You break the almost tense silence with a loud sigh, getting agitated with watching and hearing Eddie doing his work, "Eddie, honey, you've been rearranging A through D for the last hour, there can't be anything left that you've missed."

He actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at you, not daring to look up and face you but you catch him doing it. What a little brat.

"Eddie, what have I actually done wrong?" And oh, there it is, tumbling out of your mouth like an intrusive thought let loose before you can catch it and swallow it back up.

"You've done nothing wrong." He mutters, letting his curls fall over his face to hide himself from your view, "I just feel... awkward, is all. Like I can't look you in the face because I keep picturing what we did."

Oh.

"Did you not like it or somethin'? Cause to me it seemed like you did." You're huffing and puffing like a spoilt kid, if you were standing up you'd of been stomping your foot.

"I-I did like it, that's the problem," Eddie sighs, defeated as he throws his head back and looks up at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world, "but how can I look at you and go on like before when you made me, well."

He's such a virgin. He can't even get the words out right without cringing and you're caught halfway between endeared and annoyed.

"You jizzed in your pants, Eds. Jesus Christ." You spit it out for him and it comes out harsher than you had meant, you inwardly cringe at yourself when you see the downtrodden look on his face, like a puppy that's been kicked, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it like that, handsome. It's just... it happened and I enjoyed it too."

"Why are you doing this?" He asks eventually, looking at you now with his big, wet puppy dog eyes and your legs turn to jelly, he's just so fucking pretty, "Is it... is it like a joke or something? Did somebody put you up to it?"

You gawp at him open mouthed for a second, "Ouch, that hurt. Are you that oblivious to how much I actually like you? I've literally had to stop myself pouncing on you from the day we met. You're just so goddamn pretty. I sort of guessed you were kinda inexperienced but I didn't know you were a virgin until you admitted it to me that night. I jus' wanna show you how to make a girl feel good. You didn't even need my help, you fucked me with your fingers so good all on your own."

You can't help it, you squeeze your thighs together as the heat creeps up your neck remembering just how well Eddie had fingered you, how he'd brought you to the edge so fast with little instruction. He was perfect.

He looks at you for a second, all dumb and wide eyed, before glancing at the clock, noticing the time and realising you should've shut ten minutes ago. He prances over to lock the door, then swiftly exits through to the back where the break room and bathroom were.

You follow Eddie wordlessly, jumping down from the stool and wandering through not far behind. You're gonna talk about this before you lose your nerve and make things worse.

He makes for the bathroom and before he can shut the door you place your hand on it, shoving your way in and slamming it behind you.

It's like a fucking airplane bathroom, you're wedged up against the door and Eddie's back is up against the sink. He's looking at you all bug eyed, in a silent 'what the fuck', but he's not saying anything to get you to leave.

"You just gonna stand there and look all pretty and stupid or are you gonna talk?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest. You notice Eddie's idiotic glance down at your tits, all squished together under the pressure of your arms and you laugh sarcastically - right in his face. Incredible.

"I just wanted to take a piss." He says it like he's dumb and at this point you're starting to question if he truly is as stupid as he makes himself out to be around you.

Eddie's big, wet loser boy eyes have you captured. Have done from the get go. You find yourself relaxing a bit and losing your hard stare as you finally drink in his appearance properly for the first time in weeks. His lips are so full and red, albeit chapped from the cold weather, and his nose is all cute. Suddenly you realise all you can think about is shoving his stupid face into your cunt and riding it senseless.

He makes the first move, which. My god. His hand comes out to grip at your squishy cheeks carefully, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip and his long fingers fanning up the side of your face, the tips resting gently in your hair.

You melt into his touch, lunging forward to capture his lips and instantly you're licking into his mouth. You want Eddie all over you, consuming your entire being.

He's still so shit at kissing but he'll get there eventually with some coaching. It's hot the way that he basically drools into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours gingerly like he's frightened. One day, you think, he'll be confident enough to spit in your mouth and make you swallow it.

Baby steps, you think to yourself, trying to rewind back from that thought.

"Can I, uh, can I do something?" Eddie asks quietly once he pulls away from your mouth, a string of spit following and you have to shut your eyes and clench your thighs at the sight of it.

You nod fervently, gasping out loud when he drops to his knees in front of you like a bitch in heat. Your tummy quivers, anticipating what he's going to do next.

Eddie's hands slide up your thighs, covered in thick black tights this time because it's too cold for fishnets in this damn snow, gingerly resting just below the cut of your big sweater. He's looking up at you again with his big sparkling eyes, leaning his cheek against the meat of your left thigh, and from this angle he looks so submissive. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight.

"Are you insinuating what I think you are?" You ask, voice quivering a little, just to make sure you're getting this right, "You wanna lick me out?"

Eddie cringes a little at the way you word it, cheeks flushing red, but he nods and grips onto your thighs in reply, "You could - you could show me how."

"Baby boy," You coo, running your hand over his curls and gripping them a little. You don't miss the way Eddie keens into the touch, a breathy sigh shuddering out of him, "I'll show you anything you want me to show you. Slide my tights down."

It happens in a weird blur, Eddie leans back on his haunches and grips the material of your tights in between his fingers, tugging them down slowly and pulling your panties along. By accident, you'd assume, with the sheepish look he gives you when he realises.

There's no patience for you to toe your beaten Docs off to help slide your tights off, so they're left pooled around your ankles. You take it upon yourself to spread your legs and Eddie eagerly looks, eyes bugging out at the sight of your slick pussy in some real lighting.

"All that's for you, pretty boy," It's true, really. You were wet just from looking at his face and the careful way he spoke to you and asked you for things, "Y'gonna lean forward and put your mouth to work? Just start by licking flat against me so you can feel it out."

Eddie does what you tell him to without question, nudging forward in between your open legs and dipping down to lick a flat stripe up your pussy, his fat tongue gliding right between your folds, catching your clit just barely at the end.

"That's it, Eddie, fuck," You shiver, hand instinctively coming back out to grasp at the curls on top of his head. He's looking at you still, wet eyes glimmering, nose perched perfectly on your mound, he's like a wet fucking dream, "keep doing that and I'll help, 'kay?"

It's almost like Eddie was naturally made to be buried face deep in pussy because his enthusiasm is unmatched. He begins this assault on your cunt like his life depends on it, hands gripping your thighs tight for purchase, as he licks fat stripes up and down your pussy, there's no rhythm at all but that doesn't matter. He finds your clit as quickly this time as the last time and he points his tongue to lick over it lazily, flicking that bundle of nerves just right.

You can't take your eyes off of him, legs shaking and hands tightening in his hair so hard he moans. You'd need to come back to that another time, because what the fuck?

"Shit, Eddie, your mouth is sinful," You choke out, fucking your hips up against his face a little when he sucks at your clit, "you didn't need any help, you - god, right there - knew exactly what to do already."

Eddie finds his rhythm slowly but surely and you finally shut your eyes, thumping your head back against the door. He's licking at your opening, dipping his tongue in and out experimentally, nose pressed tightly into your cunt, rubbing at your clit. You don't know how he's breathing but you don't care and you're thinking he doesn't either.

Your hips move of their own accord, back and forth, the sweet catch and drag of his nose over your clit and his tongue flicking back and forth is bringing you close to your peak ridiculously quick.

You're gonna give him an ego at this rate and you can't risk that. You need him bashful and dumb for a bit longer yet.

Suddenly, a moan grumbles out of Eddie's throat and it vibrates against your cunt. You chance a peek down and you realise one of his hands is gone and pressing tightly against his covered cock. He's a fucking mess, eyes wet from tears and he's panting against you in between devouring your pussy.

"You gonna cum in your, God, pants again? With my sweet pussy in your mouth?" You're losing it but you can't help but tease Eddie, watching intently as your hips rock back and forth, the sweet drag of the bulb of his nose over your clit driving you wild.

He's moaning like crazy and you can feel him jerking into his own hand, still not even attempting to get his hand in, just happy to have the little bit of friction.

Eddie cums quick and sudden, you can tell by the way his mouth falters on your cunt and the whine that escapes him, his eyes finally leaving yours and squeezing shut.

"That's it, cum in your pants again. Fuck, this is so hot," You're whining, rubbing furiously against Eddie's face again, but now he's gripping your thighs again and back to assaulting your clit with intent, nose buried into your mound once again. He's clearly trying to get you there, you can tell by the way his brows are furrowed and he looks like he's concentrating.

"Uh, that's it, keep doing that," You're a whining, babbling mess now, the pressure in your tummy mounting fast, building hot and making goosebumps spread all over your body, "I'm cumming, shit, Eddie, fuck, fuck, fuck."

You moan so loud if anyone was around they'd of heard you clear as day, your grip in his hair so tight it's got to fucking hurt, thighs squeezing around his head as you almost double over on top of him, your orgasm shaking through you so violently your legs are buckling.

It takes you a second to come to, pulling yourself back up and releasing Eddie's hair sheepishly. He's looking at you all dumb with a big grin, his face and neck covered in your release and your cunt squeezes around nothing at the sight.

"You really do have me losing my mind here, handsome," You sigh, helping him up off of his knees and cringing at the cracking his bones do as he straightens himself out.

You can't help it, peaking down to see the wet patch formed on the front of his worn in jeans, but you notice this time his cock is still straining against the zipper, "Are you... are you hard again?" You ask, eyes lighting up.

Eddie nods, "Sorry, s'just. That was so hot and I really liked it," He's all bashful, red in the face and his brown eyes glistening like a puppy who's being played with.

"Don't be sorry," You puff out a little laugh as you bend down to pull your panties and tights back up, snapping them against your belly, "can I touch you?"

"Are- are you sure? You don't have to, shit," Eddie's stumbling over his words, gasping when your hands effortlessly work on his button and zip on his jeans. You didn't have to wait any longer, the green light was there and you were taking full advantage.

You pull down his soiled pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out, all flushed red at the tip and begging to be touched. It's so much prettier than you hoped it'd be, matches Eddie perfectly, it's thick and long and you want your mouth around it.

That'd wait for another day, though.

Eddie is flush with embarrassment but he can't take his eyes off of you, choking on his tongue when you lean over to spit directly onto the hot head of his cock.

"Sorry handsome, this'll probably be quick for you," You admit, hand wrapping tight over the head and then spreading the spit down his shaft. You don't miss the high pitched whine that escapes his lips, you don't miss how he looks down to watch your fist fuck him expertly with wide eyes and curiosity.

"God, sweetheart, y-your hand feels so good," Eddie sounds like he's crying, voice wet and needy, but you can't tear your eyes away from his pretty cock sliding in and out of your tight fist to look. He's blurting out so much precum that your hand is slicking up and down effortlessly, you know this is gonna be over before you know it.

"Shit, shit," Eddie's gasping, hand clinging onto your shoulder for purchase. You finally look back up at him now, not wanting to miss the look on his face when he cums, thumb flicking over the head of his cock and wrist twisting, bringing him closer and closer.

"Yeah? Y'gonna cum for me? I know you want to," Your words are hot and heavy, you don't mean to sound as dirty as you do but that's the way it comes out and it works, because Eddie is fucking losing it, moaning and whining all high pitched and cute and cumming all over your fist.

You surge forward and capture his lips with yours, working him through the last of it as his cum drips down your fingers, making a mess of your sweater and his own shirt. He moans into your mouth all hot and needy, fingers still clenching your shoulder tight enough to bruise.

When you finally release his slowly softening cock and take a step back, you take in the full mess in front of you. Eddie is so red in the face, hair dripping with sweat, clothes all crumpled up and dishevelled looking.

He whines, leaning his head on your shoulder and burying his face in, "You're gonna be the death of me. Thank you, thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, pretty boy. You can do that next time when you fuck me over the top of this sink."

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refrigeratorwrites · 5 months

Text

⊹ ࣪ ˖୧ ‧₊˚ ACE'S MAJOR: LOVING YOU

PORTGAS D. ACE x FEM!READER

SYNOPSIS: in which your loving boyfriend is hopelessly distracted when it comes to studying with you.

CONTENT: 1k words, fluff, established relationship, college! au, y/n is a stem major, written with gender neutral reader in mind (but has like, one use of the word, 'girl'), also features lil bro luffy :p

between pastel highlighters and scribbled sentences, ace is enamored by you. perhaps inviting your silly boyfriend (who only attends lecture after he fails the midterm) to a study date was a bad idea. but who could resist when he juts his bottom lip out at you after you tell him you couldn’t hang out with him because finals were coming up? finals be damned. no one is keeping him from his lover.

“babe, i can’t focus.” except, his own brother maybe.

“ace, we’ve only been here for 30 minutes,” you sigh, setting down your pen to look up at his eyes, which are oddly narrowed by something behind you. “and you haven’t even opened your laptop yet.”

“i can’t help it! luffy’s been making weird faces at me since we walked in,” he grumbles. his eyebrows furrow in frustration. cute, you note. “it’s like he forgets i’m his ride home.”

your heart warms at the thought of the two brothers. despite his incessant complaints about luffy, you don’t fail to catch the softness in his glares and gentleness in his tone when he tells you about the younger boy’s habits.

“weren’t you the one who suggested coming here?”

“‘cuz he wouldn’t stop going on about the tangerine pastries here,” he explains. “plus, he promised to get us some after his shift.”

you hum in response and his frown deepens.

“babe?” another hum. ace fiddles anxiously with the cat pen from your pencil pouch. he remembers picking it out for you at the bookstore you both went to the other week. reminds me of you, you said, clicking the ginger tail down to test the ink flow. now, i can always keep you with me. his heart swells a little harder recalling your words.

“please, baby, if you don’t pay attention to me for longer than ten seconds, i might start crying.”

“ace, i love you.” you start, looking up briefly to catch his intent gaze directed at you now. “but if i keep rereading the same sentence again, i might start crying."

“but… i miss you…” your boyfriend whines, reaching towards your unoccupied hand. “and i think data structures have seen you more times this week than i have.”

your fingers interlock and you finally lift your head from your textbook to give him your attention.

“there’s my pretty girl.” the dark-haired man grins cheekily.

“babe, i really hate being a stem major.”

your frustration is evident when your eye almost twitches in annoyance at the smug look on his face. you begin analyzing your sweet boyfriend’s features further. well, maybe you couldn’t pretend to ignore him for much longer. just the sight of the soft curls framing his face and littered freckles eased the stress lines forming on your forehead.

“no worries, sweets,” he rubs your hand. “luckily for us, i’m already graduated with the most important major of all time.”

“oh, yeah?” you knew for a fact that this man has not yet graduated. but it was decided that there was no harm in humoring him a little. “and what would that be?”

“a major in loving you, of course.”

“hm. with a minor in lame flirting?” you resist the urge to smile.

“only for you!” he beams. “let’s go visit the cat cafe across the street.”

the saccharine voice of your lover is enough to make you reconsider the rest of your day, but you can’t seem to let him win yet. as you’re about to reply however, a figure makes their way to your table.

“y/n, here’s your order!” luffy exclaims, deeply inhaling the buttery pastry before he sets down your plate. “hope my brother isn’t annoying you too much.”

“luffy! i should be saying that about you.” the two start bickering in front of you. sighing, you continue copying down some more notes as you quietly listen in on their conversation.

“ewww i thought you guys were studying. why are you holding hands?” you chuckle at the younger boy’s questioning.

“thanks for the food, luffy,” you smile at the boy. he gives you a wide grin in response. “you can have it though, ace and i were just about to head out.”

“oooo don’t mind if i do.” he happily takes back the pastry into his hand. “you’re the best! ace, forget your homework, you should really start taking notes here.”

“you wanna go?” ace chooses to ignore him with an eye roll, sending you a lifted brow. you figure one day couldn’t hurt. not when your clingy oaf of a boyfriend was itching at the thought of spending more time with you, lecture recordings could wait.

“i would never turn down the opportunity to see my cute boyfriend with some even cuter kitties.”

“aw, you think i’m cute?”

“guys…” you almost forgot about luffy still standing there. “i wanna go too…”

“what? you’re still working!” his brother counters.

“i can trade shifts with usopp, i’ll be off soon!” another giggle escapes your throat at his persistence. “please wait for me!”

“we’ll wait for you, luffy.” the boy across from you widens his eyes in betrayal. despite his countless refusals, he’ll always have a soft spot for his brother and you can’t resist his charms either.

“sweet! thanks, y/n!” he scurries off before ace can protest any further.

“we’ll go if luffy can come with?” you send your boyfriend a sly smile, giving his hand a soft squeeze. a fond smile creeps on his tan skin.

“as you wish, my love.”

and yes, maybe ace will forever be distracted by your beauty as you condemn his lame flirting attempts. even then, however, you’ll always be there to return his loving stare in stolen glances.

(you should really stop going on study dates together.)

NOTE: welcome to my first lil blurb! this is my first attempt at fan fic so pls go easy on me… had to write about ace bc THATS MY BOY

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace fluff #ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x you

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yrluvjane · 9 months

Text

The Things I Hate About You

Sirius Black x fem!reader

"We're supposed to be doing this together! Professor Flitwick assigned pairs! You think if we were given the choice, I'd pair up with you?!" Y/n angrily shouted at Sirius.

Sirius scoff's then gives off a humorless laugh. "Please, everyone wants to pair up with me! And I don't get why you're so pissed off, it's not like you'll do anything."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I want to do my homework? Maybe, unlike the bimbo's you hang out with everyday, I want to study and graduate. I want to have a future! And I won't let you -you insufferable twat- take that away from me!"

"That's rich coming from you!" He shouts facing you with an expression of rage that could rival yours.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I may hang out with 'bimbo's' the whole day but you are the one with a new boyfriend every week! So don't shame me, Y/n, you are just like me!"

"I am certainly nothing like you! And my love life has nothing to do with you!"

"Love life? Love, is that what that is? I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It must be exhausting for someone as bitter as you to love someone that long."

Y/n gasped, shocked to silence. Her eyes roamed his face that was inches away from hers, contorted into anger, his grey eyes seemed to have darken yet there was undeniably another emotion laying there.

They stood, staring unblinkingly at each other as if they were in a contest until Sirius gave up and sighed loudly. He cursed under his breath, running his hands down his face.

He slumped down at a nearby chair and began rubbing his temples and forehead, tiredly. As she watched him, in this new light, her eyes took notice to his disheveled state.

From the dark bags under his stormy eyes, to the way his shoulder-length was messed up as if someone kept running their fingers through them all the time, to the way Sirius looked at the ground as if he was having a mental battle.

"Sirius-" She began softly but the wizard cut her off. "Just go." He said tiredly, as he looked up at you with pleading eyes. "Just go, go have fun...Go to your new boyfriend." He said sadly at first but his voice edged at the end, emphasizing at the 'new boyfriend' part.

"I can do the Theory of Animal transfiguration and you can do Human. I'll have it done by tomorrow night." He said, "Just leave, Y/n. I just want to be alone and think right now." He said.

She gave him one last look of concern before nodding slightly to herself. "I'll see you later, Sirius.. Take care.." She said slowly as she left the room and shut the door behind her, almost missing Sirius's voice. "Dammit!" He swore angrily, kicking a nearby chair.

Sirius Black had successfully went from annoying the living daylights out of you to completely ignoring your existence. Every time, since the fight, your tried talking to him he was either:

Suddenly missing something or had forgotten about a class.

In a deep conversation with a very awkward and nervous-looking James Potter .

Having his tongue down Marlene’s throat.

The last one was the one that bothered you the most, Sirius was known for his playboy streak and was almost never seen with same girl twice, except for Marlene. Because of this, many rumors and theories were spread. Each more absurd than the rest, but even then, the sight of them together made a very tight and twisted knot in your stomach.

And the whole thing was making you lose your mind. Sirius no longer bothered you and that bothered you. You had completely lost any interest in any of your studies and the fact he was taking this much of your focus and concentration was embarrassing enough.

You had spent three whole days trying to understand this abnormal rage brewing in your chest, which then you realized was jealousy. You were jealous of Marlene. Because you liked Sirius. The realization hit you like a brick to your head.

You kept trying to push the thought away, trying to simplify as a side effect of all the studying you’ve been doing. And so you did, you took a break and went to Hogsemede.

But every time you saw Sirius and Marlene, you had this urge to punch both of them.

You only realized how stupid you sounded, when you took Madam Promfery’s advice and wrote all your feelings on paper.

You truly sounded like the main character of cliché enemies-to-lovers story, all you were missing was a best friend that would betray you and try to take Sirius away.

And all this led up to this moment right now.

You currently watched the hallway you were standing in waiting for Sirius to appear. It took you three whole days to plan this and you were quite anxious.

You took deep breathes hoping to calm your nerves but they only sky rocketed when the sound of footsteps reached your ears.

Your head snapped up and your eyes met Sirius's, causing alarms to blare in your head. His eyes widened and was about to say something but before he could even get a word in you pulled your wand out and petrified him.

"Oh my God, okay, okay. This is completely fine." You said to yourself as you levitated Sirius's body to an empty class room and faced his frozen body.

"Sorry, I just need you to listen and obviously there are more...comfortable ways to do this but this had the most promising outcome."

You took one last deep breathe and pushed your hair to the back of your ears. "Okay, I like you, like you like you. I know, "What?!" Trust me it shocked me too, but in this past week I realized lots of things. And one of those is just how much I miss your really annoying yet flattering presence. Yea, sure you're condescending, rude, annoying, obnoxious and I could probably go on till tomorrow. But the thing is, I like that stuff about you, or at least some of it but what I've realized I always classified it as hate."

"I hate the way you always flirt with me, it's disgusting, rude and completely inappropriate, but you do it to get a reaction out of me and sometimes it actually nice, it doesn't make me feel alone."

"Of course there are lots of annoying things about you, for example, the hair thing. Y'know the one where you push your hair back with your hands unlike Potter who runs his fingers through his hair. I hate it. And then sometimes you do it to me, whenever I'm studying, and it always ends up distracting. So I end up reading the same sentence fifteen times, and getting absolutely no work done.."

"I hate the way you keep staring at me, almost all of the time. During class, while were studying, at dinner, in the common room, on the courtyard and so on, it makes me feel really insecure."

"I hate the way your uniform is always untidy; your tie is always lose, your shirt untucked, your robe open and how you completely violate the rules by wear those rings."

"I hate how your really good at your studies but never want to show it, I watch you do your work, you have potential to go high places but whenever your in class you put on this "To cool for school" act that irritates me too much."

"I hate the way you follow me around and throw your arm around my shoulders as if were close friends. I hate the way you tell others I secretly love you whenever I brush you off."

"I hate it when you joke and make me laugh, I hate it when you say I'm uptight."

"I hate it when your right and I'm wrong, I hate it when you lie and leave me alone."

"I hate seeing you with Marlene, I hate it more when people make comments of how great you two seem."

"I hate it when you put me on the spot then call me shy, I hate it more when you hurt my feelings and make me cry."

"I hate the way you're not around and you don't talk to me anymore. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you, not even a little bit, not even at all."

You shakily raise your wand, and cast the counter curse. You swallow as he stands up with wide eyes and looks at you. "I swear if you laugh, I'll punch you in the face." You say threateningly, as your eyes roamed his for any emotions.

He lets out a small laugh, "Did you just attack me, insult me and confess your love for me all in five minutes?"

"Six minutes and forty-seven seconds."

"Merlin, Y/n..." He says with a soft yet tired smile, looking at you silently.

"Say something, dammit!" You shout, completely on edge.

"Well, I was actually coming to find you. Your owl gave me this." He says, pulling something out of his robe pocket with a small chuckle.

He handed you your very-angry-and-emotional-feelings-letter that you must have left on your desk.

Damn you, Whiskers!

"So, you read my letter, what about the bloody ceremonial speech i just gave."

"You hate 17 things about me." He says walking closer, "And most of these seventeen I do because I like you."

At this point, he is shadowing you with his height, there was barely any space in between.

"What?" You asked with a dazed look.

"I like you too," He clarifies , one of his hands reach up to brush your hair back and cup the side of your neck, stroking your throat with his thumb, making your face heat up.

"The reason I was so angry last week was because everyone kept saying what a great couple you and Hillson made. I got so angry and took it out on you."

He uses his other hand too push a few strands of your hair back behind your ear, playing with ends as he stared deeply into your eyes.

"Then I came back to apologize but I heard some of the girls say, you locked yourself up. I went back to my room to think and thought that maybe it was just best to give up. So I avoided you and ignored you in hopes of getting you out of my head. I only got back to Marlene to get over you. Then I got the letter and came to find you right away."

You stayed silent for a good thirty seconds trying to absorb all this information, though it was quite hard with him tracing his thumb over your throat and collar.

"So you don't like Marlene." You stated.

He laughed and nodded, "You can rest assured, I don't like Marlene, only you."

"Good." You whispered as you laced your hands behind his neck, bringing his head down and attaching your lips to his.

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wifey-badalee · 2 months

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CLEARLY YOU’D ’D RATHER BE WITH HER PART 1

It’s not the first time you had felt brushed aside by alexia when her “friend” Olga was around. It got very annoying how she would pay so much attention to her and completely disregard you, she’s dating you not Olga, why does she act that way.

You guys were at alexia's 30th birthday celebration and it wasn’t exactly how u pictured this day going. Instead of enjoying the love of your life’s birthday, your in the worst mood because of her. All she’s been doing it being attached to Olga constantly praising her to her mom and leaving you out in the corner of the room by yourself because everyone is focused on Olga as always. You felt like a burden at times….well most of the time. You noticed alexia’s family wasn’t too fond of since she introduced you’ll. They weren’t as welcoming as she had explained, they often looked down on you as if you weren’t enough for alexia and Olga was just such a help with that. They loved Olga since she’s been a friend of alexia for a long time and fits their “perfect girl for alexia” picture. It really did bother you , why didn’t they like you, you tried so hard to win them over , what’s so different about you and Olga, what qualities does she have that you don’t. Your parents raised you perfectly as you grew up in an Asian household you had the perfect manner, knew how to cook, clean , and take care of alexia and others, what more did Olga have to offer?

“Hey, what are doing here alone, it’s alexia’s birthday your supposed to be celebrating with her,” mapi says.

“Oh, I just need a breather, it’s a little overwhelming the crowd,” u replied though mapi didn’t look too convinced.

“Hey babe!, come here we are cutting the cake!,” yells alexia.

Here goes nothing you thought

You walker over to them and moved to stand next to alexia only to be pushed aside by alexia mom and Olga. Eli tells Olga to help Alexis cut the cake and so she does. You were so missed that alexia went forward with that and didn’t even think twice, you were her girlfriend not Olga does she not see that?

You were so angry and this just topped it off, alexia starts dancing with Olga and they are practically dry hunting each other. You were s done at this point that u just walked put, you couldn’t handle this anymore, really alexia?

Alexia didn’t even notice you were sooner till she came back to the table and her cousin asked her where you had gone to. She had started to look for you but couldn’t find and you.

“Ugh top stressing yourself and looking for her, this is your birthday it’s special, she shouldn’t be ruining this by taking all the attention going missing, it’s embarrassing, “ says Olga.

“ Yea your right I don’t know why she does this, it’s annoying , she always does this,” says alexia.

“ It’s OK come enjoy the food,” says Olga.

“Where the girl,” asks Eli?

“I don’t know can’t find her,” alexia says.

Eli just rolls her eyes thinking it’s your dumb ,petty pity parties your having for yourself. Yet on the other end you are in distraught, you don’t know where your relationship stands, you don’t know what to do, is alexia even aware of what she’s doing is hurting you?

Alexia got home later that evening to a sent house, the lights were off and you were asleep. She came in the room and just sighed at you sleeping, she was actually so angry that you left and embarrassed her like that, she wasn’t letting it go she was gonna deal with you in the morning.

You woke up to an empty spot besides you, you weren’t mad infant you were happy you didn’t like what alexia did to you yesterday so you not seeing her wasn’t at all bad. You freshened up and went downstairs too find alexia sitting at the counter with coffee with an angry expression. You knew what was coming and you weren’t ready, you are the only one who has the right to be mad.

“ What was that yesterday, you leaving in the middle of my birthday, are you that selfish, do you not have any respect for me or my family, huh?,” says alexia.

“ The only person here who is supposed to angry here is me, you spent the entire day paying more attention to some other girl then your girlfriend, you left in the corner of the room, to go have a good time with your girl,” you replied.

“Oh wow , are you that insecure about Olga? Omg let the girl live, she’s don’t nothing to you and all you do is speak bad about her, why can’t you be more like her, maybe If you were I would spend more time with you and you wouldn’t be so insecure,” she says.

“oh wow , I never even mentioned names and you immediately knew who, so it wasn’t just by coincidence or by mistake you purposely spend more time with her and disregard me, thanks for telling me where I stand with you,” you chuckle while fighting back the tears.

Alexia has a little regret but covers it up with a defensive look.

“ I’m gonna leave and give you time to think about what you said, I think we need some space and a break,” you say while walking away.

Another fic , will complete the previous one today

#alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas angst #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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theres-a-body-here · 6 months

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Dracula!reader x Male Survivors

A relic from the past is snatched by the Entity. With no desire to starve to death, they reluctantly obey the wishes of the spider god

Adam Francis

As a bibliophille, Adam has read quite a few iterations of Vampires from folklore and fiction

From the sparkling to the mindless beasts

But you seemed...polite

Well, as far as a killer could be in the realm

"May I feed on you? Just a bit?"

He appreciates the gesture, but it's hard to feel grateful when the choice is an illusion

You'll feed on him and his friends, willingly or not

He knows the Entity is merciless to killers who don't obey, so he cuts you some slack

You return the sentiment by taking the longest path to a hook when you carry him

Eventually, you mutter under your breath about how much you miss your library

Adam immediately perks up as he hangs limpy in your hold

A fellow bibliophille?

It's not long before some sort of friendship develops

You spoke softly as Adam fidgeted with the chest's lock, "And these other vampires…sparkle?"

He nodded, "Yeah. Not my most favorite series."

You gently rubbed at your forearm, imagining yourself under the warmth of the sun.

"I also remember reading about some that suck blood through their fingers," he added as he managed to open the chest.

"Fascinating," you murmured under your breath.

Steve Harrington

For the love of God please try to act mean around him

The moment he finds out you're not as vicious and brutal as the other killers, it's over

"You vex me"

"Oh sorry, am I a pain in the neck?"

It's open season for Steve

Vampire and undead jokes incoming

Don't feel bad about tunneling him

You probably don't even want to feed on him

He takes offense to that

"Who wouldn't want a taste of all this sexy"

Not even a hook to the shoulder stops him from being annoying

"I'm not saying that," you hissed, glaring at Steve as he struggles to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing his chest.

"Come on, please?," he cried out as the pain of the hook in his shoulder began to take it's toll. "Please, please, please?"

Steve felt his grasp weaken as you glared a hole into his head.

"I'll stop with the jokes for three- no five trials if you do it," he pleaded.

You let out a long and exhausted sigh before looking around. Once you made sure no one was around, you gave in to his begging.

"Bleh bleh bleh," you spoke in a deadpan voice as you stuck your arms out.

Steve's shit eating grin never left him, even as the Entity's claw pierced right through his chest and lifted him up towards the sky.

Dwight Fairfield

You freak him the fuck out

You're so silent in your movements

You literally pop out of nowhere and spook the shit out of him

He could be working on a gen and then you appear out of thin air

"Good Evening"

He shrieks as you lift him onto your shoulder

It doesn't help that you don't seem to understand how your words affect him

"Would you be open to having your neck sucked?"

"WHA-WHAT?!"

He thinks you're doing it on purpose

In reality, the time period you're from doesn't really do innuendos

It's only when you promise to let him escape the trial after you feed that he really considers the offer

Dwight trembled as your mouth hovered above his neck. You breathed in his alluring scent deeply, savoring every bit of it.

"Mmmm…" You moaned softly against his skin, making his face erupt into a blush. "You smell so incredibly delicious."

Dwight stuttered anxiously under your tight hold. "D-Do you think it'll hurt?" His voice quavered slightly.

You were certain you would taste nervousness in his blood.

"Only if you desire it to," you purred reassuringly, opening your mouth to reveal your sharp fangs.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #killer!reader #dracula!reader #dwight fairfield #dwight fairfield x reader #dwight x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things #adam francis #adam francis x reader

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zerobaselove · 1 year

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taking care of zb1 ♡

pairing: idol! zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warning: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: this idea was so so cute so when i got the request i knew it had to get done :D its a little all over the place but still!

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

leaving a cup of water on his side table and leaving a kiss on his forehead, you look at your boyfriend who has become bedbound with a cold, "anything else i can help with?" you considered yourself pretty brave to be asking that, knowing how much jiwoong liked having you wrapped around his finger and getting taken care of.

"c'mere." he patted the area next to himself on the edge of the bed, and you hesitantly sat down, curious of the next words to leave his mouth. "entertain me!" he smiled shamelessly, and you couldn't even blame that on him being sick. "jiwoong," you sighed, readjusting to face him better, "if you want to kick this cold, you need to rest. you don't need to be chatting with me."

he huffed, "what if i want to just stay here with you forever." the thought behind it was cute, it made you blush, and you couldn't help but cave a little bit. "okay," another playful sigh escaped your lips, "how about i tell you about my day and you try and sleep, and then we both get what we want." judging by the reaction on his face, he seemed quite content with your answer, almost too content. "jiwoong, you have to promise you'll try and rest."

crossing his fingers right in front of you, he held back a laugh, "i promise." getting a hit on his arm from you in return. "hey!" he joked, letting out a cough, "you can't hit me, i'm sick!"

zhang hao ;

"how did you know i was sick?" hao questioned when you showed up at the dorm. "zhang hao, you nearly coughed up a lung on the phone with me earlier," you shook your head, coming to sit beside him on the bed, "plus, yujin texted me and said he was worried you were gonna pop your eyes out with how much you were sneezing," a laugh escaped your lips, "i didn't know how to tell him that wasn't gonna happen."

now it was hao's turn to shake his head, "well you guys have nothing to worry about, i'll get over it." he paused for a moment as another sneeze ripped it's way through his chest, followed by a series of coughs. "i'm locked away in here to not get anyone else sick, so you shouldn't be here either." what he didn't know was you had a couple tricks up your sleeve, namely dayquil and lots of water. "you're always making sure i'm okay, so now it's my turn to take care of you."

"what if i get you sick?" hao let his worries push past his lips, and it was cute that he cared about you enough. "then you will just get to take care of me, and we will be even." you beamed, causing him to smile at your positive outlook on what most would consider an annoying situation. "you really don't have to," he trailed off, his voice getting quiet as he tried to suppress another cough.

"nonsense!" you smiled, pulling the dayquil out of your bag and setting a couple in his hand, "i want to, now i'm going to get you some water so don't go anywhere." he couldn't help but enjoy this side of you, it was cute, "i'll be here"

hanbin ;

"he just won't sit down, we thought you could get through to him better." matthew and jiwoong smiled at you, a look of worry for their friend, and your boyfriend, hanbin plastered across their faces. you made your way to hanbin's room, entering the room to see him wincing as he tried to put his shoes on. "where do you think you're going?" a playful manner laced in your tone, but still a genuine question. "oh, hi love, we have practice today." you only shook your head in return, crouching down to take off the one shoe he managed to get on.

"they have practice today, you have a sprained ankle, so you've earned yourself a day with me." as much as he didn't want to miss practice and risk falling behind, the idea of spending time with you sounded amazing. the long practice hours on top of the extra time he spent in the studio pushing himself past his limits had meant you didn't get to see each other much, so who was he to deny the opportunity. "you're very convincing y/n." he smiled at you, shifting himself back on his bed and motioning for you to come up next to him.

gladly accepting the offer, you shuffled next to him and leaned into his side,"i have my moments, but i also think you might be a little biased." a laugh left the both of you, "maybe a little bit." he pressed a kiss to your cheek, his own flushing at the action, "but you just have a very good case."

you got up for a moment, earning a pout from the boy before he realized you were coming right back, this time with his laptop in hand. "movie day?" his eyes lit up at the suggestion, "i'd love to."

matthew ;

[matthew] everyone's been working so hard that we got an extra day off :D do you wanna come over?

you smiled at the message, excited at any time to spend with your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but worry about how hard they'd been working themselves. you had seen all the late nights matthew was pulling at the dance studio to make sure he had the choreo down and you had seen the way it was weighing on him, so you were just glad he could have a day to rest; so you shot back a text saying you'd be there in 20. and that's how you ended up at their dorm once again.

"matthew-" you dragged out, walking into his room after ricky let you in a moment prior. a smile immediately spread across his face, "y/n-" he mirrored, getting out of bed to hug you, "what do you wanna do?" he asked, thinking maybe you wanted to go out. "i was thinking we could just stay in? i know you're exhausted matthew, you can't hide it behind a pretty smile." the pretty smile in question had turned into a sheepish smile, knowing he had been caught despite saying he wasn't overworking himself.

he sighed, "i promise i'm okay, but that sounds nice." you smiled, knowing you had won this battle and sat down on his bed, dragging him by the hand to sit with you and letting his head lean on you as you carded your fingers through his hair. "you need to take care of yourself matthew," he only hummed in agreement as he melted into your touch, earning a lighthearted sigh from you before speaking up, "but it's so much nicer being taken care of by you."

taerae ;

"i'm not a baby," taerae huffed, shuttering at the cold cloth being placed on his forehead, "it's just a bad headache i'm fine." despite his standoffish reaction, you could tell by the way he smiled when he thought you weren't looking that deep down, he loved being babied like this. "like it or not, i'm gonna help you as much as i can," you said in a hushed voice, attempting to not make his head hurt any worse.

leaving his side for a moment to shut the blinds, you caught a pout out of the corner of your eye, simply smiling at your boyfriend and his antics before returning to his side and sliding in next to him, "now try and get some rest." taerae shut his eyes for a moment, "you know you don't have to stay here with me." he breathed out, trying to stop a smile from spreading across his face at the idea of getting to just lay around with you. deciding to toy with him a bit, you went to stand up, "i can just go hang out with matthew-" before you could get your sentence out, his hand was grabbing onto yours.

"please stay," he attempted to drag you back to bed with him. "i thought you didn't need me to stay here," you questioned, a playful tone in your voice, knowing you were breaking his exterior down. "doesn't mean i don't want you here." if it wasn't so dark you'd be able to see the heat radiating off of his cheeks, but you had a feeling it was there anyways. "i see," you hummed, sliding in next to him yet again with a wide smile plastered on your face, "then i guess i can stay."

ricky ;

"ricky, you're running a fever, please sit down," you tried to reason with him but it was no use, the stubborn boy insisted he would just "power through it." but with the way he was wobbling from dizziness, you knew you weren't letting him go anywhere today. all it took was him attempting to put on his jacket with a little too much force for him to realize that maybe he wasn't okay.

"you know," he mumbled, "maybe i'll sit down, just for a minute." you only shook your head before grabbing him by the arm and leading him to his bed, lightly pushing him down and making sure his head hit the pillow. "feel better already?" you questioned, already knowing the answer, and that he'd be too stubborn to admit to it, but the small smile accompanied by a nod was enough for you.

"i'll be right back," you turned to head to the kitchen, hoping zhang hao would know where the ibuprofen was. "where are you going," his voice was quiet, almost as if he was worried you were just going to leave him there. "just gonna go get something for that fever and some water, you never drink enough water." you joked, successfully making ricky laugh in the process, getting another head nod before leaving.

by the time you returned from the goose chase zhang hao sent you on to finding ibuprofen, ricky had dozed off; he looked cute like that, you thought to yourself. opting to leave the medicine on his side table, you planted a kiss on his burning forehead, "get some rest," you whispered, despite knowing he can't hear you. at least you'd be there when he woke up.

gyuvin ;

"gyuvin, i love you," you sighed, "but what use am i to you if i'm also sick." the boy was convinced that you needed to be attached at all times, even when he was sick. you were happy to take care of him, really, but being sick was not your idea of a fun time. "we could be sick together!" he beamed, as if that was a genius idea that you hadn't considered.

you playfully put your hands on your hips, "is me taking care of you not enough?" he quickly shook his head, appreciating how much you had been taking care of him throughout the day, "not at all," he trailed off, "but i'm lonely and we both have nothing better do to, so why aren't you cuddling with me right now?" as much as you wanted to deny it, it did sound nice.

you huffed before muttering a "scoot over," causing gyuvin's smile to widen, "so you do love me!" he joked, getting a disapproving smile in return. "if i get sick i'm blaming you." gyuvin shuffled in his spot, turning and throwing an arm and a leg over you, planting a kiss on your temple "i'll take the blame, it's worth it."

gunwook ;

"how did i get so lucky," he flashed his gummy smile at you as you walked through the door, a glass of water and ibuprofen in one hand and an ice pack in the other. "you deserve to be taken care of gunwook," you mirrored his smile, handing him the medicine to take for his headache before leaning him back onto his pillow and resting the ice pack against his forehead. "i'm just glad i get to do it."

having left plenty of room for you on the bed, you scooted in next to your boyfriend, leaning against the headboard and letting his head rest on your chest. "try and get some rest yeah? the medicine should kick in soon," you smiled at the boy, playing with his hair as he hummed in response, feeling his breathing slow and even out.

you laid like that for a few hours, eventually drifting off yourself before you found yourself waking up to gunwook reaching over you, placing the ice pack on the side table. "feeling a bit better?" you mumbled, still opening your eyes. he smiled wide, nodding his head, "much better, thank you y/n." now it was your turn to smile at his cute demeanor and appearance; his damp forehead with strands of hair sticking to his, the way his hair was sticking up in all directions.

"anytime." you reached up to pushed the hair off of his forehead, "i know you'd do the same for me." he hummed, grabbing your hand in his and giving it a light squeeze, "always."

yujin ;

"yujin, you can take the day off, you're practically falling asleep standng here talking to me." you sighed, it hurt to see him like this. yujin was always pushing himself too hard, trying desperately to not disappoint the older members. "but-" he started, a pout on his face. "no buts, i talked to hanbin and he said to keep you home today."

all he could do was smile at the thought of his hyungs and you wanting to take care of him, but he couldn't help but feel worried he'd fall behind. as if reading his mind, you spoke up again, "you're not gonna fall behind, yujin you're more talented than you give yourself credit for." his smile grew as he heard your praises, "thank you," he said sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"will you at least hang out with me today?" he asked, voice hopeful at the idea of spending a day with you. "i was hoping you'd ask," you smiled, sitting on the bed, yujin following suit.

at some point the two of you had decided to set up in the living room; a mountain of blankets and pillows adorning the couch in an attempt to have the comfiest afternoon to yourselves. the pizza you ordered sitting on the table as you found something to watch on the tv. "thank you again," he turned to you with a shy smile, "i needed this." you could only smile in return, "i know you did yujinnie."

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines

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k4katsujin · 11 months

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brain empty just thoughts full of miguel having a soft spot for you and hobie's relationship

like if you were in different dimensions hobie would beg for miguel to let him visit you.

and if you were in the same dimension he would beg miguel to send him on missions with you

wait now i want to make it a lil fic

kind of a drabble? idk

ok afterthought this is way longer than a drabble lmao mb

word count : 561 😭

it was a peaceful day at the spidersociety's headquarters. all the anomalies you and hobie have caught while patrolling were imprisoned in their cages, you did your daily patrolling chores and now boredom seemed to have gotten the best of you.

sometimes when you're bored, you wonder what your boyfriend was doing. well, factually speaking he was not quite your boyfriend, because of his "i hate labels" stuff, but it was most likely the two of you had something

sadly you spent most of your time wondering how he was going. you couldn't communicate because your communicator broke and miguel decided hobie had to give his to you.

you know what? fuck that hierarchy thing, just because some vampire spider man didn't want you to multi dimensional travel doesn't mean you wouldn't.

you then left your small apartment and headed to the headquarters.

"don't even think of it." firmly said miguel.

"what? i didn't even say anything yet-" you say.

"your backpack. it's the one you always bring with you when i send you in missions with hobie. considering the disaster it made when i left gwen visit miles last time, i am not letting this happen a second time." he said firmly.

"please." you try to beg. "it has been weeks since you last sent us on a mission together. plus it's soon our birthday and we celebrate all of them together. please? i promise you won't hear anything from me next."

"fine" he sighed, "but only for three days."

"four days? please?" you try to negotiate.

(i don't know how to describe it but imagine him pinching his nose yknow the thing he did In the movie)

"if i let you go, will you stop harassing me ?" he asked, visibly annoyed.

"pinky promise!" you exclaim, "thank you so much!"

he then opened a portal which led you to your boyfriend's dimension. you walked a bit to the bar where he probably was, as usual.

once you arrived, riri, one of hobie's best friend, warmly greeted you.

"glad to see you around!" she says with a warm smile. "if you're here to see hobie, he's in the back!."

you then headed to the room in the back of the building. you did find him practicing with his band. taking care to not disturb them, you sat on a small table in the back of the room.

you couldn't help but admire him. despite everything he went through, he always kept going.

"hobes", said a member of the group."i think someone's waiting for you."

as soon as he noticed your face, you could see his instantly lit up.

once his practice went all smooth, the two of you headed outside. a fresh breeze greeted you as the two of you tried to catch up on the lost time.

"i can't believe miguel let you come there" he says in disbelief. "i ain't complaining though, i missed my sunshine a whole bunch" he continues before kissing you.

"i missed you too, hobie," you murmur with a soft smile.

the two of you kept wandering in the streets, talking about random things.

"you down for cuddles, sunshine?" he asked as you came back home.

the two of you sat on the floor, your head on his chest, feeling his soft heartbeat.

eventually you both drifted to sleep, his hand playing with your hair.

yoooo 🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻🕺🏻 call me the ceo of ooc hobie atp x)

uhhh yea sorry the end is a bit rushed but 😭😭 also im in an agsty mood so i'll write smth when reader finds out hobie is cheating on them when they come to his dimension 😈😈

ALSO if you want some sleepy hobie hcs you can find them here ! :D

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #queer writers #writers on tumblr #kaheri's chronicles

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ittybluebell · 2 months

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Roommate | Daredevil G/T | Chapter 1

AO3

Matt Murdock didn't have anything against mice. He'd never been personally harrassed by one, but he understood the need to get rid of them. One easily turned into a dozen and with all the mess and digging into food, eviction was necessary. Despite how many rodents he heard daily, it wasn't something he thought about. The only reason mice were on his mind now was because one had moved into the floor, and he could hear it moving around as he laid in bed.

Now, like he said, Matt didn't have anything against mice.

Scrtch-scrtch-tick.

This one, however, was pushing its luck.

It showed up one night, moving in when he was out vigilante-ing and he only noticed the next day. At first, he didn't care. It was alone and hadn't yet realized there was food in his apartment. He had other, more pressing issues than a single mouse. It was a benign little thing - hardly a problem. Most nights, he could ignore the pitter-pattering and scraping or put in his noise-canceling earbuds.

Tonight, the mouse was too loud for earbuds. As he tossed and turned, Matt fumed, wondering what that rodent could possibly be up to. Rearranging furniture? Fuck, it sounded like it. Little mouse furniture.

Enough was enough. Matt threw a pillow at the floor and told the thing to shut up. To his surprise, it did. Matt sighed and finally went to sleep.

From that night on, he noticed a drastic decline in his downstairs neighbor's noise pollution.

How silly it was, Matt thought during a good mood, holding a grudge toward an animal. Especially one that was polite enough to let him sleep in peace.

Oh, how naïve he was.

The mouse quickly reinstated its grudge status when Matt noticed things going missing. It started with the bagels - a hole in the bag he noticed because the scent of bagel was particularly strong. Upon investigation, he discovered there was a complete lack of crumbs. And a chunk discreetly chewed from the middle. From there, things escalated. He smelled the shift in the air, smelled the remnants of another living being in his apartment. Little objects went missing - things even a seeing person might miss. But not Matt Murdock.

The sock was the last straw.

"What's the best bait for mouse traps?" Matt asked as soon as he entered the office.

"Cheese?" Foggy answered, confused. "Why? Do you have mice?"

"One. One mouse."

"How d- nevermind. Let me guess - you can't sleep."

"It's taking my stuff."

Foggy laughed. Karen huffed.

"At least tell me you're using non-lethal," said Karen. Upon his silence, she aww'd sadly. "Matt, no. It's just a mouse. You can't kill it."

"They're pests," said Foggy.

"But they're so cute. It just wants a place to live."

"Karen-" started Matt.

"No, no, she's got a point." Foggy spun his chair around. "Matt, you can't kill it! So cute and fuzzy!"

The lawyer-by-day, vigilante-by-night groaned. "Fine, I won't. Just stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Foggy, I can feel your eyes fake-tearing up."

Matt bought some glue traps and baited them with peanut butter. When Karen told him glue traps were worse - "They're so inhumane, Matt!" - he assured her that he'd know when the mouse got stuck; it wouldn't suffer. As much as the thing annoyed him, Karen was right: he wasn't going to abandon his no-killing rule for one mouse. (One mouse that must have a vendetta against him. He would not stoop to its level.) What kind of hypocrite would he be, huh?

The traps were set. Now to wait.

And wait.

A week passed. No mouse was caught. When he listened to its movement, he realized it was avoiding the spots he'd trapped. Avoiding the usual routes.

Smart. For a rodent. But Matt was smarter.

More traps, different bait. Traps disguised as the food and objects he'd noticed go missing, even the mate to his missing sock. It couldn't resist now.

Days passed.

Evidently, it could resist.

Foggy teased him about being outsmarted by an animal. Karen was on the mouse's side. Somebody must've told Jessica because he got a condescending text offering her services. Traitors, every one of them.

It all came to a head one terrible Friday night. Matt was already in a bad mood when he got home from work but going out, hearing and feeling New York City, pushed him over the edge. He was annoyed, his brain was overstimulated, and he just wanted to rest. The rooftop access door shut behind him and he threw his helmet into its trunk, about to shed the rest when the distinct sound of scratching and plastic crinkling in the kitchen cupboard caught his ear.

Matt stilled. It was here.

He marched with purpose toward the sounds.

That little bastard wasn't getting away this time. Catching it would be a satisfying end to a crappy day.

The mouse started fleeing before he was even close. It was headed for the other end of the cupboards - a hole in the floor Matt wasn't aware of but now could sense the air flowing from within. He'd have to seal that in the mor-

Mice didn't run on two legs.

Matt cocked his head, listening to the pattern of footfalls. He'd never cared to pay attention, but now it was impossible to miss. He knew what scurrying rodents sounded like. Whatever was in his kitchen, it was no rodent. It was bipedal. A bird? No, not with that speed. Not with that gait. He needed a closer examination.

Matt threw open the cupboard door. The first thing to hit his senses was the scent of corn chips.

The second was the heartbeat.

The creature's heart pounded swiftly in its chest. Air rushed from a mouth that was too upright for any kind of animal, a nose too humanlike. Small shoes hit the baseboard as it ran. Fabric rustled the same way he heard every single day in the street - like clothing.

Matt got lower, needing to be closer, needing to examine this little anomaly. How it moved, how it sounded, how uncannily familiar it was.

The living shape that his senses created was so alike to people that he was too shocked to outwardly react.

The little thing escaped into the floor, and Matt Murdock was left crouching there. Slowly, he shut the door. He took off the suit, dressed his wounds, and went to bed, his mind racing.

His body was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. Not when he was tracking the creature's movements. Every scrape, every soft thud of a step, the whisper-

Whispering?

"You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way…"

Whispering. Okay.

Matt pretended he didn't hear anything and put in his earbuds. That was a tomorrow-Matt problem.

Unfortunately for tomorrow-Matt, another problem knocked on his door first. That problem rhymed with Stank Hassle and didn't like to be ignored. Frank did offer coffee when they left so at least it wasn't a total bust. It was a good opportunity to get Matt out of his head; to get a clear perspective of the night before. Matt decided he was exhausted and hallucinating. The alternative was a tiny person living in the walls of his apartment. Delusion was easier.

Delusion was also what kept the borrower from abandoning the apartment altogether.

Call them stubborn, or stupid, but Finch didn't want to leave. Borrowers could only get so lucky. Landing a decent apartment with an oblivious bean was a rare opportunity, and Finch had no intention of giving it up. They would use this good fortune. Even if they didn't deserve it.

Finch shook off the guilt following that thought.

They spent the first week setting up: finding a place to sleep and tidying it up, living off the rations they packed. They got a lay of the land, surveying the apartment and its infrastructure. The excessively bright billboard directly in front of the living room window, the kitchen, and - most importantly - the bean. Light - or lack thereof - was never an issue for him. Not once did he flip a switch or so much as use his phone, which read texts aloud to him. He hardly looked at whatever claimed his attention. Everything added up to limited vision, but they couldn't be sure. It was safest not to risk any assumptions.

Evidence pointed to some damn good hearing when Finch was carving planks of wood out of the floor's innards. They were minding their own business, content with their repetitive, calming task, when something large and loud impacted the ceiling a dozen paces away.

The borrower nearly jumped out of their overalls, giving a startled squeak.

"Shut up," yelled the muffled voice above.

Pretending their soul wasn't just violently expelled from their body, Finch smoothed down their curly brown hair and exhaled shakily, making a mental note to postpone noisy work till the bean was away.

And they did good on that: when the bean was home, Finch completed the quieter, slower tasks. They thought they'd discovered the formula for living under the radar, satisfied to have found a routine that worked.

Then the traps appeared. Finch cursed their luck. The jig was up. The bean set up gross glue traps in outer access points, a couple even getting to the paths Finch took. Finch avoided them and laid low for a bit, hoping the lack of activity would convince the bean they'd skipped town. But more traps appeared. Smart ones, too - they almost fell for a couple. Now, Finch knew a thing or two about a thing or two. They made new routes and took extra care when borrowing. They even started mapping paths to the apartments below. Despite their small stature, Finch had a lot of room for determination. After a life of sticking their hand in the fire, they learned to take the heat. If the bean wanted them gone, he'd have to try a lot harder.

Night fell. The bean was gone. He followed routines - ones he scarcely strayed from. It would be hours before his return.

Finch made their way to the kitchen. They pushed up the trapdoor and strolled through the cupboard. They still had to be careful: just because the human wasn't home didn't mean they could throw all caution to the wind. Leaving evidence was a massive negatory. Finch didn't care for stupid rules, but the rules of borrowing were locked in their brain. They were already careless with the bagels, something they couldn't afford again. Desperation wasn't an excuse for sloppy borrowing - not when it exposed them.

Finch observed the boxes and containers around them, reading labels and calculating risk and reward. There was no chance of getting into that cereal box, but the nutrition bars would be a good grab. The box was short and already open. Finch pushed a can of tuna against it and hopped on. They began extracting a bar only to realize they had no way of getting something so large home without a sled.

"No, that'd be too easy." With a huff, Finch dropped it and shoved the can back into place. "'cause food can never be-" plastic crinkled under their foot "-easy?" Finch inspected the blue packaging. It was an open bag of tortilla chips. They grinned.

The scent of corn chips filled the space as Finch unfurled the bag. They dropped their backpack and started breaking the triangular chips into smaller pieces. Salt-free, too? Hell, yes. They tested the backpack's weight, put a bit more inside, then pulled the strings tight. They slung the strap across their chest. Oh, yeah, this would last them a good while. Finch fought with the chip bag, trying to roll the top underneath like it was before.

"Come on. Stupid fuckin'-" They tried to simultaneously lift the heavy bag and pull the other end.

Over the sounds of plastic popping and crackling in their ears, Finch didn't hear a door open and shut.

DOOM.

They did, however…

DOOM.

…feel the approaching footsteps of the human bean.

Finch froze. Blue eyes snapped wide open, their head flinching away from the plastic. It couldn't be...

Finch bolted.

He's supposed to be out why is he back-

DOOM.

They didn't need to know why he was back - just that he was and he was approaching at an alarming rate.

DOOM.

Oh, fuck, that's actually really close-

The doors ripped open. The hinges didn't even get a chance to squeak.

Finch stumbled. Air caught in their throat. For a moment, Finch was rooted to the floor. Just a moment. Long enough to see the human's form towering beyond the counter, covered in some kind of dark red leather. Long enough to see boots more than capable of squishing the life out of them.

Legs like fenceposts bent as the human came unbelievably closer. Closer than Finch had ever been to a bean. A giant face suspended above them, features blank and expressionless. Not once did the bean look at them.

Finch ran. They didn't look back. When they reached the hole in the floor, they plugged it up and kept going. Keep running.

Only when they reached the safety of their shelter did they falter.

"Oh, shit," they gasped, resting their weight on a nearby post. If their heart didn't outright stop, they were sure it might burst from their ribcage. Finch felt that exploding was a reasonable response. "He didn't see me." The scene replayed in their mind, over and over like a glitched tape. "I'm fine. You're fine. He didn't see you. There's no way he saw you. Just breathe."

Delusion, like they said. It was a powerful thing. It pulled many tricks on the mind. Like convincing oneself that they weren't discovered.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet, one might even say, if they weren't one Matt Murdock. He never got that phrase. Nothing was 'too quiet'. In his - correct - opinion, nothing was quiet enough. There was always something creaking, breathing, or thumping, even in the smallest hours of the night. But on some front he had to agree: there was a suspicious lack of activity from the critter in the floor lately. Reluctant as he was to admit it, he couldn't deny that it wasn't an animal. Animals didn't mutter to themselves, in full sentences, in English. He wasn't mentally, emotionally, or spiritually prepared to assess beyond whatever that meant. In the moments his mind wandered, however - such as now, sitting and listening to a recording for his current case - he found himself pondering the tiny being regardless.

The peace wasn't an accident. Finch had been avoiding that place, giving themself and the air time to settle. They continued work on their residence, slotting together panels of wood and cardboard to form walls. One room would do for now - they just needed protection from the elements and potential scavengers slinking around. Skies above, if a cockroach tried anything, it was next on the menu. Grind up the little fucker into a smoothie. Finch wished a bug would: it'd be miles better than those godforsaken tortilla chips. Finch gave the wood posts they'd just secured a good push, nodding in satisfaction and moving on to the wall. It would be the last one to seal up their box of a house.

Four days. It'd been four days since Finch was nearly discovered; four days since they stared a bean in the face and got away unscathed. Four days since they got an answer to what they'd only suspected: the human couldn't see. That explained the brilliantly bright billboard, the sensitive hearing, the lack of lights - it explained a lot. Finch had to re-evaluate their approach to borrowing. This human would be extra careful about his possessions - the sock was proof enough - and notice what was out of place. In some ways, this both simplified and complicated things.

But borrowers were nothing if not adaptable.

Finch ventured up to a peephole in the wall and looked out. Nothing had changed except the bean now sitting at the dining table, papers and an electronic box neatly laid out on the tabletop. Casually dressed, he was listening to… a podcast? No, too personal. Finch liked podcasts. There was a crime involved, but this sounded like a conversation Finch would overhear more than something designed to entertain. So this bean worked in solving crimes. A detective?

They listened to the dry as hell audio a scant longer before growing bored and moving on. Hey, at least the bean was preoccupied.

Naturally, they found themself puttering toward the kitchen. Wielding two bent nails tied to their belt, Finch climbed up the cupboard door, using hinges and decorative bevels alike to hoist themself up. Those bagels were good. Were there any left? Nothing but corn chips really wore down a person's capacity to give a damn. They perused the counter, confident that the bean was sufficiently distracted by his work. Finch was disappointed to find the bagels sealed in an airtight container. It was their own fault, slicing up the bag so messily. They pulled a face and resumed their search.

A plate of mostly-eaten pasta sat before them. Fuck yes! Finch scuttled to it, pulling out rolls of tinfoil from their bag. Careful to avoid crinkling, they gathered up all the leftover noodles and sauce that would fit.

Finch squirreled away their haul, licking their fingers clean of evidence and ignorant of the man listening to their heist just a few metres away.

Matt stopped paying attention to the tape some time ago.

The sounds of Hell's Kitchen couldn't drown out the little inhabitant in his walls. A scent had blown into the room, vaguely familiar with hints of tortilla chip. He sat straighter and listened, idly shuffling papers and tip-tapping his fingers on the table. He found himself unable to be anything other than impressed as they scaled his counter like a mountain climber. Whatever was left from dinner became his visitor's latest plunder. That was fine; less waste, right?

He was disappointed when they returned to the walls. He wound back the recording to get some work done, but found himself consistently distracted by his small neighbour's goings-on. This discovery was just so unique, so strange - how could he not be curious? He heard them venture out again, across the apartment now. Into his bedroom. What could they be doing?

Oho, if Matt found any more socks missing-

He turned in his seat, about to rise, when he heard:

"You hafta to be shittin' me."

The voice, quiet in size only and bold beyond that, was the mildly annoyed tone of someone who'd been inconvenienced. Matt had heard it before, in the late hush of the night, when no one else would. Muttered curses and remarks that blended into the creaking and groaning of buildings and chatter and sirens of the city. One voice that Matt Murdock had tried very hard not to think too much about.

"When is enough too much, huh?" the voice griped. "Does he think I'm just gonna lay on one? 'Oh, felt silly today, stepped on the massive rug of glue.' How 'bout I drag this onto your floor, see how you feel walkin' in a minefield?" They growled. "UGH. Beans."

Well.

There was no denying it anymore, was there? A tiny person was living in the walls of Matt's apartment.

Matt leaned back, processing. He'd tried ignoring it - for the sake of his mental health and faith - because it was insane. It was impossible. It shouldn't be.

And yet…

Matt wanted - needed - to investigate further.

He got up, quietly, light on his feet. He didn't make it two steps before he heard a swear and the tiny person retreated once more. Into an electrical outlet, by the sounds of it.

Hm. He couldn't sneak up on them - not this time. They heard him- no. Matt quirked his head, considering. They felt him approaching. Like Matt, they could feel vibrations. Vibrations that alerted them of a threat. It only made sense.

Heh, 'threat'. Regular ol' Matt Murdock was the threat this time, not his alter ego. Wasn't that something?

The next time Matt encountered his new neighbour, he was trying - and failing - to fall asleep. There was too much on his mind for sleep. Frustrated, he huffed and flopped over, restless, his thoughts racing. Sounds of the city were extra distracting tonight. He considered getting up and making a cup of tea - maybe that would calm his mind.

Noises from the kitchen drew his scattered focus. He sat up, listening to the scuffing and tapping that he'd come to recognize as his uninvited houseguest. Three visits in one day. Were they always this proactive? Well, he did interrupt their attempted heist of his bedroom. Matt scooted to the edge of the bed. He would make that tea, actually. As he stood, he remembered sneaking didn't work last time. Right. Heavy-footed. However, he had a hunch that this attempt would yield a sneakier result.

Aided by socks, Matt softly padded through his apartment. Tiny - the name he assigned his little visitor - was fiddling with some kind of packaging on the top shelf. And as he got closer, lo and behold, they did not startle. His theory was correct: the further Tiny was from the floor, the weaker their pallesthesia became. Their ability to detect vibrations just wasn’t as sensitive as his own. Once he stepped foot into the kitchen, Matt dropped the Daredevil act and let himself be known. He grabbed a mug and turned on the kettle. Tiny's pulse quickened; their breath hitched. He gave them time to hide before he opened the cupboard for a tea bag. He quickly realized the box wasn't in its usual spot - his own doing, unfortunately.

"Stupid tea bags," he muttered for Tiny's sake; an 'I'm not looking for you, I swear!' assurance as he searched the cabinets. For extra sauce, he added, "Always misplacing them."

Would he forgo tea? He did start the kettle… as much as he got a kick out of playing the part of oblivious blind guy, causing Tiny undue terror wasn't his end goal. He wanted to test them, their cockiness, not scare them. Tiny may be a thief, but they were just trying to survive. Why else was food their number one haul? Matt dedicated his life to helping people in need. Wasn't Tiny part of that demographic? Weren't they someone in need? Unless small people were running drug cartels and trafficking rings, Tiny was innocent.

Doubt and guilt crept in. Maybe he was pushing the bit too far.

Matt was just about to get up and leave when something square and coarse pressed into his fingers.

He faltered, then pinched it, rubbing his thumb over the material. Its strong, earthy scent gave it away.

A tea bag.

Small shoes lightly retreated. Matt withdrew his hand. He held the sachet of dried herbs, cogs turning in his mind. He tilted his head.

Tiny handed him a tea bag. That…

Matt found himself puzzled and oddly touched. It was for their own good, to avoid getting found, but he couldn't not appreciate the nice gesture. He easily smelt where the tea was, of course. But Tiny didn't know that. Huh.

Maybe he was being too harsh about the sock.

The kettle's bubbling pitch rose to a squeal. Wincing, Matt shut it off. He dropped the tea bag into the mug and poured steaming water over it.

What a strange experience. He wondered what Tiny was thinking. Their heartbeat eased into the fluttering pace that he learned was its resting rate. It was the trait that had him most convinced his roommate was a rodent of some sort, though the way they squeaked when startled was a close second.

Matt threw out the tea bag and took the mug to his room, leaving Tiny to their task.

The next day, he casually slipped questions about tiny people into a conversation with Foggy. (It was not casual and quite random, actually.)

"You mean, like… fairies?" Foggy cautiously asked.

Sort of? Matt didn't know whether Tiny could be considered a fairy. They certainly didn't seem like the fairy type, not with the kind of language he heard them utter. Did fairies say 'fuck'? Would that break some kind of fairy law?

Karen told him about a book series that she'd been obsessed with as a kid: it contained many smaller magical beings. Brownies, for instance. Matt settled on definitely not that one. What favours was he receiving? Aside from the tea bag - an isolated incident - absolutely none.

Matt wasn't convinced they were a magical creature. Really, they just… seemed like a normal person, albeit smaller. They hummed to themself, snickered at their own dumb jokes, and swore a hot streak that would impress even Castle and Jones. Matt was pretty damn sure they'd been building a house under his floor, though he noticed all the loud busywork was put on pause when he was home, most notably when he was sleeping. Another nice gesture that was also for their own self-preservation.

Maybe they were a mutant. Or maybe they were mutated, like him.

When Matt got home, he discarded the glue traps. It felt wrong to leave them now that he knew it was a person he'd been trying to catch. Guilty, he started leaving crumbs in easy-to-reach locations. It wouldn’t hurt him any - his grocery budget wasn’t gonna tank because of some scraps. If chips and leftovers were what they were after, then they had free reign over the countertop. That didn’t stop him from being cheeky about it, though - if Tiny was getting confident, he might as well play along.

He found Tiny’s courage something to marvel at. Roaming a giant’s home? Without fear? His vigilante persona was literally named Daredevil and he was impressed.

However, bravery and foolishness were not mutually exclusive. That’s when the cockiness came in.

Matt was minding his business, washing the dishes, when Tiny wandered out. Brows hitching up, he continued sponging the plate. Surely, they wouldn't-

Oh, but they did.

Unwavering, Tiny climbed up the counter they same way as before. They walked up to the pan on the stove and hooked a leg over. Matt fought hard not to chuffle. This was getting out of hand. Matt remembered an adage about not feeding animals or else they'd grow dependent. Had Matt inadvertently done exactly that? Animals that were accustomed to people often didn't see the danger. Tiny was certainly no animal, but the absence of caution they displayed in the moment was, frankly, ridiculous. It was a massive leap from the times they would flee his presence. He was starting to think he'd played too ignorant.

A smirk tugged at his lips upon hearing the leftover eggs being pilfered. When he turned to fetch the pan, Tiny was already hopping to the floor and disappearing behind the fridge.

Stealing right behind his back. When was enough too much, indeed.

AO3

#g/t #giant/tiny #goldfinch (oc)#matt murdock #daredevil g/t #giant tiny #the borrowers #borrowers #g/t community #gt #g/t writing #daredevil #marvel g/t #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction

127 notes · View notes

fragileruns · 9 months

Note

welcome backk !!

request for tasm!peter - peter would always blow off reader on dates because he's busy fighting crime and stuff like that, and reader has always been patient with him and understanding until she finally had enough. peter went to her apartment without thinking ( so he was still wearing the suit ) because he wanted to make up with reader right away and then he reveals his identity to her and they make up ( can end with smut )

i am terrible at making requests, and sorry if it would be hard to understand T T

anywaysss happy that you're back :D take caree

sorry this request took so long, lovely! i hope you enjoy! sorry for not including any smut, i’m just not the best at writing it yet.

summary: peter’s been showing up late, or not at all, for all your dates recently and you’re upset, until you find out why.

content warnings: fluff mainly, very slight angst, peter being a stressed baby, gn!reader (i think, let me know if not!), not proofread

The first time it happened was a study date. You had been struggling to grasp the new topic that had been introduced in your mathematics class and Peter, being the braniac he was, had been quick to offer to tutor you. He was supposed to come over that Friday night and have a movie night, after you finished studying. You gave him the benefit of the doubt, that maybe he was just running late or had an emergency, but then the hours creeped on and he still never showed. He apologized the next day, claiming May needed help with something and he couldn’t get away (apparently, this ‘something’ had kept him from messaging you that he wouldn’t come, as well, but you decided not to bring that up).

The next time was a bit more annoying. It was date night. You and Peter always set aside at least one day every week to be ‘date night.’ It usually just consisted of take out food and really cheesy movies, but it was nice to be able to spend time together, especially when classes filled up most of your schedules. You had a stressful week, with exams coming up and final projects being due, and you had been looking forward to spending a night with your boyfriend. He always knew how to put you at ease. You waited up for him for hours, but he never showed, again. At least this time he did text you, even though it was nearing midnight and it only read ‘I’m so sorry, this huge emergency came up. I’ll make it up to you with an icecream date tomorrow???’

The cycle continued on. He kept missing minor dates, sometimes showing up hours late or texting you that something came up, and other times just going radio silent until the next day. And you had forgiven him everytime, but he could tell you were getting annoyed and feeling rejected. Rightfully so. He knew he had to make it up to you, somehow, and his best plan of action was to scrape together whatever money he could and find the fanciest restaurant nearby (which wasn’t as fancy as he’d have liked, but it had foods he had never heard of, so he figured it was good enough).

“Okay, listen, I know I’ve been really, really bad at showing up to our dates on time, as in, I haven’t been,” he had started one night, coming into your apartment after one of his classes. You were sitting on the couch, surfing through movies to find something to watch, and he walked over to plop down next to you. “And I know you’ve been stressed with exams, and I just… I want to make it up to you and tell you I’m proud of you for getting through them. So, I made us a reservation at that fancy place - the italian one, down the road? Anyway, it’s for Saturday at 7, and if you don’t totally hate me, I thought it’d be nice.”

You glanced over him, furrowed eyebrows and with only a hint of hope. It was hard to keep believing he’d show up whenever he had missed so many. “I don’t hate you. I just… are you sure you’re gonna show up? I’m really tired of embarrassing myself by just waiting around,” you admitted with a doubtful sigh, and Peter’s heart nearly broke. He felt even worse for missing everything, and he wished more than anything that he could just tell you why.

“Hey, I swear, okay? I — I’m really sorry for missing any of our dates, and I’m sorry you felt embarrassed. But, the only way I don’t show up for this one is if I’m dying in a hospital somewhere, alright?” He rushed to reassure you, hand reaching out to cup your cheek and keep your attention on him. Seeing his puppy dog eyes made you give in quicker than you would have liked to, and you just nodded with a small ‘okay’ to agree. He grinned, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss, before turning back to the TV, decidedly picking some action movie that he thought you’d like.

Saturday came around, and you hated to say it, but you were excited. You had dressed nicely, taking over an hour to get ready just to make sure you looked perfect. You even arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early, waiting outside for Peter to show. He ended up texting you that he’d be running a few minutes late and asked that you went ahead to claim your seats, told you he’d still be there shortly. You lost some hope, but still trusted he’d keep his word and went in to sit down.

By 7:30, most of that trust had died and you apologized to the waiter for wasting so much of her time, but you were sure your date would show. She gave you a sympathetic smile that made you want to curl up and die as you ate your complimentary bread.

By 7:45, you had already send Peter a string of texts, letting him know you were about to leave and would talk to him later. You still hoped he’d respond though, but no luck.

Finally, by 8:00, you had given up all hope and just left, apologizing again to the waiters as you hurried out, eager to get away from the stares. You stopped by a small pizza place on your way back, starving as you hadn’t ate since before noon that day, scarfing down the slice before going to your house. Part of you worried that Peter was, in fact, dying in a hospital somewhere and that was why he didn’t show, though you knew that wasn’t why. Knew he just got caught up with something else, like always.

Peter stared down at his phone, mask held in his other hand as he frowned at your string of texts, all consisting of things like ‘this is humiliating, are you showing up??’ and ‘you promised you’d show.’ He felt that deep pit of guilt, and he didn’t think before swinging to your home, only wanting to make things up to you. Only wanting to make things better before you finally just gave up and broke things off with him. He wasn’t at all focused on the fact that he was wearing his tight suit, mask in his mouth now, identity fully revealed if anyone squinted enough.

His heart was beating a mile a minute, but not because of the adrenaline of the fight or the feeling of whipping through the air. Because he could only imagine how upset and angry you must feel right now, and he felt awful for being the cause of it.

He got to your house in less than half the time it would usually take, moving as quickly as possible, tapping on your bedroom window as soon as he spotted you in bed. You had rolled over at the noise, eyes squinting to see what was going on at first before you spotted him. He noticed the split second of anger that came across your features, but it was quickly replaced with wide eyes as you rushed to let him in. He glanced behind him to make sure nobody was about to throw something at him.

“Peter, you’re —” you had started once you pulled the window up, but you didn’t have time to continue before he started rushing to apologize.

“I’m sosososo sorry, I know I promised and I don’t have a good excuse, and I know you must be so upset right now,” he started, his own eyes wide as he climbed in, hands immediately finding your waist to stand you in front of him, ignoring your own shocked look and attempt at getting words out. “Tell me how to make it up to you, I’ll do anything, I swear. Seriously, Do you want a puppy? A cat? A — a lion? Anything?” He was practically begging.

“Spiderman,” You had responded. His eyebrows furrowed, hands dropping from your waist as he took in what he thought was your request.

“You want — you want Spiderman? Like, a cutout? That’s… okay, I didn’t know you were that big of a fan.”

“No, Peter, you’re… you’re Spiderman,” you stated and he was more confused than ever, but then your hands reached out to grab the mask that had dropped to the floor, and everything clicked together. He had never changed.

“Oh, that — um, I was at a costume party,” he attempted to lie, and it was clear on your face that you weren’t falling for his bluff. “Okay, yes. I’m Spiderman. That’s… sort of why I’ve been so late to everything.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Did you not trust me?”

“No. No! That’s not it at all. I just — it’s dangerous. For you to know anything. For you to even be with me, but I’m too selfish to end things. I just didn’t want someone coming after you just because you knew my identity,” he admitted with a frown, upset that you were now in harms way just because of his own stupidity.

“You’ve been doing this alone? You haven’t had any help?”

“What?” He questioned, looking at you as if you had asked the most absurd question possible. You were worried about his help when he had just missed his probably fifth date in a row? And put you in danger? “Um, yeah, I’ve been doing it alone. Look, I’m really sorry about tonight, and I promise —”

“Peter. It’s fine, I’m not mad. Anymore. I just can’t believe you hid this from me. I could’ve helped you, you know?” You cut him off, reaching out to rub your hand over a bruise forming near his eye. He hadn’t really noticed it from the fight, used to being punched around and overly focused on trying to get home to you.

His eyes were wide and filled with both worry and guilt. Guilt over missing tonight. Worry because he had no idea what was going to happen now, because it was about to become ten times harder to keep you safe. If anyone found out you knew his identity, they’d come for you, and Peter really didn’t know how to deal with that.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I was scared something would happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice small, and your heart broke.

“You won’t, okay? Nothing’s gonna happen to me, I’m here. But I wish you would’ve told me, I hate thinking about you out there, getting hurt. Not having anyone to patch you up. Is that why you’d wear hoodies so often?”

“Yeah,” he looked slightly embarrassed, and he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, keeping a hold of your hand as you went to sit next to him. “I usually heal up really fast, though, I promise. So it’s not that bad. And I’m really good at patching myself up, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Of course I’m gonna worry about you. I worried about you before I knew you were Spiderman, why would you think I wouldn’t worry about this?” You sighed, scooting closer to him as he wrapped his arms aorund you, moving to hide his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell how messed up he felt about it all with how openly he was craving your affection, but you didn’t say anything and instead just put your hands in his hair, scratching his scalp gently.

“Sweetheart, ‘m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that,” he said, but you didn’t stop and he didn’t stop you.

“That’s fine. Just go to sleep, bug boy.”

He grumbled something out about the nickname, something about being a man and not a boy, but it was quiet, and he almost immediately fell asleep soon after.

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a-spes · 9 months

Text

S T A I N E D H E A R T S - One shot.

Words count - 1,4k.

Tags & Warnings - Natasha Romanoff x reader, a bit of angst / comfort.

Summary - Fury sent you and Natasha on a mission even if he knows you are in a relationship.

— — — — —

You are on the roof of a building, laying on the dust, not letting your eyes out of the window of your target’s apartment. The window is on the opposite building, right in front of you, if he decides to finally come back, you would be able to shoot him quite easily.

Except that he is not here, probably decided it was a good day to stay longer outside. You sigh, starting to be impatient. According to the informations given to you, he should have been here two hours ago, it’s been twice the time you have been waiting him to open this fucking door, barely moving.

“ I swear, if Fury gave us the wrong address, I am gonna chop his head off ” you mumble. Throught the communication device, Natasha can be heard chuckling.

You almost forgot that you are not alone in that mission. While you are waiting on a roof, laying on the concrete for hours, burning under the summer sun, she is comfortably sitting in a car parked near to the target’s building. Since you got here, none of you talked, except a few words from time to time because he was supposed to arrive soon and you both needed to concentrate. At least, he was supposed to show up. He is still not here.

“ I am serious, ‘tasha ” you add. Most of the agents would be fired if they dared to talk to Fury the way you are, but he needs you too much for that. Also, he probably appreciates you more than he wants to admit it.

“ I know, love, I know ” she replies and, if you can’t see her, you know she is smiling, it is something you can tell by her tone.

An additional ten minutes elapsed before the wait was eventually worth it, you sighed in relief when you saw him. The man enters the building, coming into the apartment a few minutes later, all under your surveillance, you aren’t missing any of his movements.

“ Here you go ” you whisper.

You can hear Natasha saying something like she gets it and doesn’t want you to move but you can’t be sure, the man taking all your attention at the moment. In fact you are not here to kill him, you are supposed to do it just in case things go wrong - it would be a shame to kill the man that has the information you need.

In fact, the plan is supposed to be very simple, at least according to Fury. But, to be honest, if you are listening to him, the missions are always easy. However, working for him made you learn things never go the way they are supposed to : in Fury’s language, easy is just a synonym for death trap.

Obviously this mission is no different from the others. The man you are looking for has something you need to take back before it can be used by the terrorist organization he is working for. He is just a subordinate so, in theory, it shouldn’t be that hard. You don’t know much more about the story, Fury rarely gives a lot of information : he asks you something, you do it and then you get the money. It is how things work and, even if most of the time it annoys you, here you are, exactly where he wants you to be.

“ Crap ! ” she exclaims.

“ Nat’ ? Is everything okay ? ” you immediately ask, your voice being full of worries. Your girlfriend is not the kind of person to curse, it is more your thing, hearing her using such words is a sign that something is not going well.

“ Yeah - ” she starts but she is being cut by a loud noise, as if she is thrown against a furniture. Oddly, you don’t believe her when she assures you that everything is fine. “ Stay where you are. ”

“ What a liar … ” you mumble. The problem with going on missions with Natasha as a partner is that she is trying too hard to keep you safe. She doesn’t think twice before putting herself in danger, even when it is unecessary, just so you don’t get hurt.

And it is exactly what she is doing right now. You are trying to keep an eye on her through the apartment’s window but you can’t see anything, they must be fighting in another room.

“ Fuck it ” you eventually say. This time, you are the one cursing and Natasha doesn’t even make a comment about it. All you can hear from her side are some fight noises, she probably didn’t even hear you talking.

You really tried to do as she asked you but the wait is unbearable. There is a difference between not moving for hours, waiting for a target to show up, and not moving while your girlfriend might need your help. Even if she is probably doing fine on her own, your worries make seconds seem like hours and staying here is impossible.

A few minutes later, you decide to leave your position to lead to the building she is in. The closest you get from the apartment, the loudest the noises are. It is until they suddenly stop, leaving you with an odd silence : the time you get here, the fight must’ve stopped and you don’t know how you feel about that news. As the door is wide open, you can easily make your way into the dark apartment. It has a living-room with an open kitchen but those rooms are empty so you decide to keep walking, entering the corridor that leads to the other pieces. The sunlight can barely come in so you have to be careful, you know it.

“ You better be alive ” you whisper as you slowly make your way into the apartment.

Suddenly, you feel a movement on your right. Sadly, by the time you realize, it is already too late. Your mind is too busy worrying about your lover that you forgot to pay attention to your surroundings, a rookie mistake.

It all happens in a few seconds, so quickly that your gun is useless. An arm around your throat, your opponent is holding you firmly and struggling is useless as they would tighten their grip until you can barely breathe. If you want to get out of that situation, you are gonna need to outsmart them.

“ Love ? ” the voice says. She immediately lets you go. “ I told you to stay where you were, why can’t you listen for once ? ” at her tone you can guess that she is really mad at you right now.

“ Can’t let you have all the fun while I am waiting, can I ? ” you reply once your breathing is back to normal.

You don’t really mind her harsh tone, you know that it is not against you. Natasha fears that you could get hurt, sure, but she is even more scared by the idea that it could be because of her. You told her many times that it won’t happen but she doesn’t listen to you, the person she was being stuck in her mind, even years after she left the Red Room.

In any case, you can see that your joke didn’t make her laugh. Your attempt to lighten the mood is a failure, all you get in exchange is Natasha’s dead-stare, the one that makes you immediately go quiet. You know that anything that you could say from now would only make things worse. Slowly, you come closer to Natasha, your hands taking hers. At first, she is tense, her first are clenched, but she eventually lets it go, wrapping her fingers around yours. It is the only way you know to comfort her when she is in that state, prisoner of her past.

“ There is blood ” you quietly say after a few minutes of silence, looking at her bloody hands. Her suit is in a similar state. “ Not mine ” she replies in the same tone, and a soft smile appears on both of your faces. As you look behind her back you can, indeed, notice three men. They are laying on the floor, all unconscious and tied and you weren’t expecting less from the woman you love.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #reader insert #x reader #black widow #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu women #mcu au #StainedHearts #light angst #comfort #angst and comfort

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scarletts-scribbles · 3 months

Note

Hello! I'd like to request "your not exactly a good patient" with WandaNat. Thank you so much!

You're Lucky I Love You

⁀➷ Pairing: WandaNat

⁀➷ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I hope this suffices :D sidenote - I love WandaNat so much

⁀➷ Summary: Wanda isn’t a good patient when she’s sick.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*'

“I told you to wear a coat.” Natasha rolled her eyes teasingly down at her girlfriend stirred restlessly, tossing and turning as she tried to get comfy.

Wanda sniffled pathetically, trying her best to glare through feverish-glassy eyes, “I’m-,” Her raspy voice caught in her throat, causing her to cough and splutter a little, “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are lyubov’,” The redhead sighed before shaking her head and tsk’ing in disapproval, “Thats exactly why you sound like death and have the chills, right baby?”

Wanda could do little more than roll her eyes - even though the action alone seemed to make the pounding in her head worsen tenfold. She couldn’t exactly argue, after all her girlfriend was right.

She’d been the one to offer to go and run down to the shops to pick up some essential groceries when they’d ran out a few days ago. It had been raining heavily most of the day and even though the pair would usually wait it out to be able to go together in better weather, Wanda had been wanting to cook for them tonight and she had been missing the key ingredients.

Natasha had kissed her cheek before she left, offering to go out herself but Wanda had insisted so the redhead had warned her to make sure to wear a coat.

She hadn’t…

In her defence it had stopped raining and well, she thought it’d stay that way… It didn’t. Leading her to come home a short 10 minutes later absolutely drenched to the bone.

Of course Nat had shaken her head and teased her with a very smug “I told you so” before ushering her off into a hot shower but despite getting warm and dry as quickly as possible, Wanda had still found herself waking up with a cold a few days later.

And Wanda wasn’t exactly the easier to look when she was ill either as Natasha had soon come to find out.

“I feel like I've been hit by a truck," Wanda echo’d in a whine for what must’ve been the forth time that hour.

"Well, that's what happens when you refuse to take medicine isn’t it?”

Wanda shot her a mock glare before succumbing to another fit of congested coughing to which Natasha handed her a tissue and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Can you at least try to cover your mouth?" She’d sighed, “As much as I love you, I’m not catching your cooties.” Nat made the symbol of cross with her fingers and held it out infront of her.

The response she got was little more than an annoyed huff from the fever flushed witch.

“You sure I can’t convince you to take some medicine sweetheart? It’d make you feel a whole lot better.” The redhead offered, letting her hand fall onto her girlfriends back to rub comforting circles down her spine.

But despise the offer, Wanda still shook her head and grumbled weakly, "I can take care of myself." Small sniffles punctuated her words, and she attempted to sit up, only to be gently pushed back down by Natasha's firm hand.

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes, "Sure, you're doing a great job so far." She reached for the thermometer on the bedside table and handed it to Wanda. "Humor me and take your temperature?”

Wanda sighed but obliged, muttering, "This is so unnecessary." As she waited for the reading, Natasha had gone to fetch a bowl of hot soup from the kitchen - just a little something she’d fixed up earlier that afternoon when Wanda was loudly snoring away, asleep the sofa after bolding stating that she wasn’t at all tired a few minutes prior.

"You're a terrible patient," Natasha laughed to herself as she returned back to the room to see her girlfriend glaring daggers at the thermometer as if a nasty look would change its reading.

“What’s in the bowl?” Wanda sniffled, finally noticing what her girlfriend had been holding.

The corner of Nat’s lips quirked up into a playful smile, “Well I heard there was a miserable girl could needed some soup… but I couldn’t find one so you’ll have to do instead.”

Wanda only pouted in response, looking more like a sulking child than a powerful witch.

"I can't help it if I'm a bit difficult when I'm sick," Wanda mumbled, accepting the warm bowl as Nat sat back down on the edge of the bed, watching over her with an amused glint in her eyes.

"Difficult is an understatement," She chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from Wanda's clammy forehead. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

ﾟ:*

〚 Masterlist! 〛 ೃ༄ 〚Join My Taglist! 〛

@lovelyy-moonlight

#wandanat #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #wandanat imagines #wandanat fluff #wandanat sickfic #wandanat comfort #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel #mcu

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 5 months

Text

i know the easiest way to resolve my two wolves dilemma about the near miss notfic is for buggy to be the one in disguise, okay? i know. i just haven’t been able to figure out why he’s in disg—okay, no, i’ve got it now.

(another self-indulgent “shanks/buggy post-roguetown, pre-luffy” encounter below the cut)

buggy, lately called “the clown,” is not usually a pirate given to subtlety or discretion. he wants word of his wicked deeds to spread far and wide! if people are afraid of him, they’ll give in faster, so he won’t have to work as hard to get what he wants!

but usually, there aren’t rumors of monkey d. garp in the area.

buggy’ll thumb his nose at most any marine, but garp is an exception. that guy has a monstrous strength on his old captain’s level, plus he’s equally famous for his incorruptibility and his bullheadedness. all in all somebody buggy absolutely does not want to deal with.

and sure, his bounty as it is probably doesn’t warrant a vice-admiral’s involvement, but garp’s been around a long time. he might recognize buggy as “one of roger’s brats.” and while they never had bounties of their own back then, surely the marine still want their heads. they went after tom, for fuck’s sake, there’s no way buggy is safe.

so until he hears from a reliable source that garp has left this particular corner of east blue behind, buggy is not leaving the sanctuary of his ship without a thorough disguise.

he’s gone without his distinctive makeup, of course. his hair he’s tied up and tucked away under an old knit cap, which he’s sewn an ink-black wig to the lining of to better conceal his identity. he even rubbed a bit of ink into his eyebrows to be doubly sure. and, last but hardly least, he’s chop-chopped his nose off, sticking an ordinary-looking prosthetic in its place with spirit gum that will be very annoying to remove later—but better a little adhesive rash than prison.

looking in his mirror at a stranger, buggy sighs, clapping his hands together. “right!” his ship needs a resupply, and buggy sailed his favorite little skiff here to take care of it so he doesn’t have to explain this disguise to his crew. “rope, sailcloth, gunpowder, food,” he mutters as he heads out. just a few essentials for any sailing vessel, nothing obviously piratical about it. a perfectly safe supply run.

a squad of marines go thumping past, and buggy can’t hold back a flinch at the sight.

he breaths in deep. this will be fine. all he has to do is not draw attention to himself, and…

“hey, you!”

buggy freezes, and fights the urge to turn around. freezing is bad enough, that would make him look super guilty. and anyway, with a call like that how could anyone possibly know who the marines are after?

“you in the hat!”

ah, fuck. buggy can’t lose the hat, that’s half his disguise gone right there. he glances back, curses under his breath when it sure looks like that squad of marines is coming for him, and makes a break for it.

“this is navy business!”

“stop!”

“like hell,” buggy mutters, rounding a corner into an alleyway. he blinks when he hears his own words doubled, and realizes there’s been someone else running from the marines the whole time. ah, shit, was he even their target after all? has he been running for his life for no reason? he turns to give the guy what for and just about chokes on his tongue, because—

well, because it’s shanks.

same stupid, distinctive hair, same stupid, distinctive hat. a cape, which is more style than buggy would have expected shanks to develop, but which is also stupid and distinctive. a pretty nasty scar over one eye. buggy takes his first reaction to that—i wouldn’t have let that happen!—and violently shoves it down into the bottom of his soul, where stupid thoughts go to die. what-ifs don’t matter, what matters is this entire guy is stupid and distinctive.

shanks gives him one of those soft-hearted, empathetic looks buggy always hated. “ah, sorry, i think i got you tangled up in my business.”

…he doesn’t recognize buggy.

good! this is good, this is—salvageable, anyway! buggy clears his throat, tries to throw his voice a little higher, speak a little more politely. anything to avoid that soft look becoming one of recognition, or that awful heartbroken look from all those years ago. “that’s okay! anything to inconvenience the marines.”

as the rhythmic sound of boots thumping gets closer, an idea occurs to buggy. “speaking of…” he grabs hold of shanks’ cape, pausing only when shanks puts a hand on his wrist and gives him a wary look. right, shanks doesn’t know him from adam like this. “sometimes it’s better to fight smarter, not harder.”

shanks considers him for a moment. he lets go of buggy’s wrist.

permission granted, buggy moves quickly. goodbye, stupid hat! flip the cape around, the lining’s a different color so that will do nicely. adjust the closure so the fabric that’s supposed to be the top hem instead functions as a hood, all the better to hide that hair and scar… sure, it probably won’t hold up to a close inspection, but who needs it to? low-level marines are idiots.

buggy leans back against the alley wall and spreads his legs wide to make himself shorter and easier to hide. when shanks doesn’t seem to get the memo, buggy rolls his eyes and tugs him closer, until shanks is standing almost too close for propriety, his cape hiding both of them from view.

hands pressed to the wall above buggy’s shoulders, shanks stares at him intently, an eyebrow going up as they hear the marines run past without giving their hiding spot so much as a first glance, let alone a second. “impressive,” he says.

buggy snorts. “naturally.”

something about this response amuses shanks, who smiles, drops one hand on buggy’s shoulder, and squeezes. “thanks for the save, gorgeous.”

buggy’s mind goes blank.

well, mostly. “gorgeous?!”

shanks frowns, though his eyes are still smiling. “don’t tell me nobody’s ever called you ‘gorgeous’ before.” buggy doesn’t react—has no idea what shanks is doing—as that hand slides up his shoulder, his neck, to cup his cheek. shanks leans just that little bit closer, taking the lack of space between them from the appearance of improper to actually improper. buggy still has no idea what shanks is doing until his thumb starts to rub small circles near the corner of buggy’s eye. “that’s just not possible. i mean, your eyes alone are stunning…”

he knows that move. shanks told him about that move, about the barmaid who’d used it on him the first time, using a compliment about shanks’ eyes as an excuse to touch his face, right before she—

it’s a very sweet kiss. probably the kind of kiss buggy would have expected of shanks, if he’d ever let himself think of things like “shanks” and “kissing” at the same time before. (face hot, it occurs to him that maybe the way he’d always violently shut down such thoughts might mean something. he violently shuts down this line of thinking.) shanks pulls back after a brief moment, a curious look in his eye that buggy takes to mean ‘more?’

whatever look happens to be on buggy’s face must say ‘no’ for him—though probably not in as insistent a tone as he’d like, his mind is still pretty fuzzy—because shanks steps back, casually giving buggy space. like of course after… that… all he wants is to fix his cape and retrieve his hat.

“wh…?” is all buggy can manage.

an eyebrow goes up, and shanks smiles a little smugly as he slides that stupid hat back into place. “like i said. thanks for the save.” and with that, he’s gone.

buggy’s knees give out.

he spends ten minutes sitting in that alleyway, definitely not remembering anything that just happened in particular detail, or wishing he’d answered an unspoken question in a different way. eventually he remembers that he has duties to attend to, and he’d better attend to them soon if he want to get off this island today.

which he does.

he certainly doesn’t have any reason to want to stick around here.

no sir.

“rope, sailcloth… limes?” suddenly buggy can’t remember the last thing on his list. well, it can’t be that important if it was the last one, right? right. surely they can go without… whatever… until after garp’s gotten tired of this part of east blue.

because buggy is never going out in disguise ever again.

#notfic #one piece #shuggy #shanks #buggy #*buries my head in the sand*#this ship’s got me writing so much about kissing… i hardly recognize myself anymore…#the near miss fics

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yandere-sins · 1 year

Text

Guard #200

a/n: This got way longer than I wanted again, but at least some smut, hehe >:D Hope you like it! Thanks for requesting ^^

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairings: Yandere!Guard!Nanamix GN!AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Clit Stimulation, Dub-/Non-Con, Sexual Fantasies), Obsessive Behavior, Possessiveness, Restraints, Pressuring, Long Post

[Prison Project Introduction & How to request | Pinterest Moodboard]

"And who should believe that?"

"You, obviously."

Unable to hold back the snark in your voice, you let out a sigh, leaning as far back in your chair as your hands tightly chained to the table allowed. Questions over questions over questions, and as of date, no new answers for either of you. As if being in prison wasn't enough, you had to deal with the constant interrogations by the guards, only rivaled by having to fight off your psycho of a roommate.

It wasn't enough for the prosecution that you admitted to your guilt of trying to kill your boyfriend. Oh no. They wanted you to suffer for a way longer time than your self-defense judgment ruled. So they sent their best man (presumably) to roll you through the grinder. Ten hours a day until you'd cave in and make a mistake. Like vultures, they were waiting for you to have a slip of the tongue as they asked you about the progression of events over and over. Every interaction was recorded as you went over your version three to four times per hour, only so they could listen to the recordings again after releasing you for the day.

Tedious, annoying, and unnecessary.

There were many words to describe it, but at least their assigned torturer was a treat for your tired eyes. With all the ugly and piss-reeking prisoners around you, sitting across from a showered, shaven, and hugged-by-his-clean-uniform officer was nice. Kento Nanami looked like a salesman—a really hot one with finely toned muscles hidden under the fabric—even though he talked as if he was presenting diagrams to you. Good to look at but hard to listen to.

Glancing at the clock above the blacked-out window where his co-workers undoubtedly were following every conversation you two had, you felt yourself relax a little, realizing there was barely any time left for the day. The last few minutes, you'd simply stick out in silence, having already learned the hard way not to respond when not asked. You had the judge convinced of your innocence until the very last second, where that damn prosecutor repeated your statement about being deeply, madly in love with your (ex-)boyfriend.

It was your own fault for chuckling. You knew that now.

In the end, the judge still decided that you wouldn't have tried killing your boyfriend for his infidelity when he confessed it to you. But because of your last reaction, your sentence ended up being more on the upper end, rather than the lower one you pleaded for, by trying to convince everyone that your boyfriend attacked you after you said you'd leave him. If only you had twisted that knife after sinking it in his stomach... Then you'd actually have a reason to be in prison.

But what was done was done. You messed up by not killing your ex, but sitting across Officer Nanami was at least a better pastime than dodging your roommate and finding a hiding place where you could sleep for the night to avoid getting stabbed in your dreams. As much as he was stoic, bland, and handsome, you preferred him over anyone else in this shithole, keeping your eyes pinned on his collarbones pressing into his tight shirt with every intake of air as if it was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

The loudspeaker clicked on just as the hands of the clock signaled the hour coming to an end. It was nearing eight in the evening, but if you got out quickly and hurried, you might have been able to snatch a sandwich from the cafeteria. If not for bathroom breaks, you were chained to the table pretty much all the time, missing lunch and dinner on most days which was infuriating but no doubt just another simple torture of the guards to get you to confess.

“Nanami, it’s eight.”

You glanced from the loudspeaker to your personal torturer, who gave a firm nod before closing his folder with all the papers and pieces of evidence he liked to interrogate you on. You've always been a good liar, so you had no problem remembering your answers and repeating them to him even though his collection seemed to grow every day.

Sighing, you flinched from your own stomach grumbling, and quickly moved around to mask the sound, pulling your hands inches away from the table and rattling the chains. There was no reason for anyone to know how affected you already were by their methods. Guard Nanami halted, eyes cutting back to you. Raising a brow, you shook your head before rattling the chains some more.

"What?" you asked. "Hurry up and free my hands."

"Someone will come to escort you back shortly."

Just as quickly as his gaze had locked onto you, it dragged back to his orderly assortment of pens and paper that he put back inside the folder so he'd have everything ready for tomorrow. Then he picked up his cap, setting it back on his head before getting up. Looking down at you with the eyes of someone clearly thinking you were a miserable mistake, he nodded to you, saying, "Good night."

"And 'til tomorrow," you chimed after him mockingly as he left, letting out a long sigh as you waited for release.

«──────── 🗡♡ ︎𓍝 ────────»

Heaving a quiet sigh, you rubbed your belly, trying not to let the frustration eat away at you.

Dragging yourself to your favorite corner in the dark hallway across the infirmary, you sunk to your butt, relieved you made it here without being seen. Staying inside your assigned cell and being locked in with the psycho was certain death, but as long as no one saw you and you hid well throughout the night, nobody would notice you were gone.

Once again, you made it through the day. By now, that was all that mattered. One less day of prison for you to get through and one day closer to freedom. Even though this prison and the prosecution tried so hard to make you crack, you stayed determined. With that thought, you dozed off, not noticing the shadow approaching as you hid behind an unused infirmary bed.

Your dreams didn't give you the peace you sought after, however, showing you the place you had called home for so long. It was almost as if you could feel the sun shining on you, warming you as someone gently petted your head. It manifested an even greater longing as someone hugged you in your dreams, holding you closely and trying to make you forget the horrors of your everyday life. But they caught up to you in no time. Before you knew it, you were behind bars, feeling the predatory eyes on you from the other prisoners and guards, and felt the shackles weighing you down.

Only, the sensation felt too real to be a dream.

Your eyes snapping open, you gasped, your body signaling you immediate discomfort. Whipping your gaze from side to side, your vision was still blurry from your sleep, your muscles straining instinctively as you tried to sit up. But the sound of chains rattling was all that welcomed you back to reality, forcing you back down, your chest hitting a hard surface. You were chained to a table once again, making you wonder if you fell asleep while you were interrogated. However, the position was unusual as you didn't seem to be on the side where you usually sat, but rather, on the guard's chair, strapped across the table with barely any room to move.

"You're finally awake," a voice too familiar, yet strangely smooth, noted. You forced yourself to blink away the blurriness so you could face whoever was in the room with you, your eyes darting up towards the voice, but you never got as far as to see your captor. Instead, you flinched as a light shone directly into your field of vision, blinding you with pain.

"What the fuck..." you cursed, but you felt someone shift the light, allowing you to get accustomed to the semi-darkness of the room with a few more blinks.

"Language, please. Or not. I don't care."

When you finally focused your view, you were shocked to find familiar eyes peering back with an intense fixation on you. Across from you, on the chair that you'd normally sit in, was no other but Officer Nanami, and yet, you almost didn't recognize him. His tie slipped off, and the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. No jacket wrapped around his arms, but his sleeves rolled up, and his hair loosened from the slicked-back style he usually wore, some strands falling into his face, accentuating his features beyond fairness. That, together with the spare light illuminating the room and him, he looked like a statue carved in stone. He had been handsome before, but while you liked the clean style he usually donned, seeing him so casually gave you butterflies. You damned yourself for getting the hots for your guard in this situation, but neither could you deny he was your type before, nor could you deny it now.

"You know I hate to repeat myself, but what the fuck," was all you could think of as a comeback, and for the first time ever, you saw him huff, uncharacteristically normal behavior, the corners of his mouth irking upwards before he covered them with a strategically well-placed cough.

"You should be happy it was me who found you and not any of the others."

Seeing how Nanami saw it fitting to bring you back to the interrogation room, you weren't so sure it was any better. However, you were indeed grateful not to be locked up with your psycho cellmate. But you wouldn't tell him that. Instead, you flailed like a fish out of the water, there not being a lot of room to move when you were strapped to the table, and huffed. "I'm a little too preoccupied to feel this way, I'm afraid, Sir."

He let out a curt, unfazed grunt, then reached forward towards your hands. The tips of his fingers slid under the double-wrapped chains, lifting them but a few inches away from your skin, and yet, you let out a breath of relief as if he had just peeled you out of your restraints. Nanami's eyes shot up to you, more fingers wrapping around your wrist in a strange, tingling sensation, lingering there before he eventually pulled back.

"Hm." Facing the palm of the hand that had just touched you with, towards him, and you could watch him flex and relax his joints a few times before curling his hand into a fist. "I didn't mean for it to be this tight," he admitted after a few seconds of thoughtful silence before adding, "Please bear with it."

That was not the answer you wanted. You had been waiting for an explanation, a reason, for Nanami to bring you here. He was dodging questions before you could even speak them out loud. But no matter if it was fair or not, you couldn't get trapped in his net, couldn't say anything. You could only learn to manage your disappointment before it seeped out in the form of aggressions or confessions, which he so desperately wanted.

"You know why I brought you here, don't you?" he suddenly asked, his question taking you aback.

Because he wanted answers.

It was the first thought that came to mind, and you instinctively knew it was the right one. This was after hours. No one would see anything, hear anything, unless Nanami wanted them. No one would know if he tortured you here and broke one finger after the other. But if you confessed your full guilt, he'd finally have you right where he always wanted. You knew what you had to do, even though the thought of losing your fingers wasn't a nice one.

"I have no idea if I'm honest."

His jaw ticked at your answer, feigning naive innocence, and he remained silent even though you could see the annoyed twitch in his leg. There was no tension otherwise in his body, legs crossed leisurely, body leaned back in his chair, too casual for the relationship you two had.

"After all this time, you still don't know..."

For a moment, you thought you heard a hint of desperation seeping through his voice, covered by disappointment that could mean anything. With a sigh, he uncrossed his legs, leaning forward, his hands gripping either of yours and pulling you a few more inches towards him. Then, he slipped his touch under the chains again, petting the rash that the restraints had caused with feather-light brushes.

"After hearing your complaints about your roommate, I've been looking for you every night. You had me worried sick with your absence, but I've kept quiet, finally finding you curled in some dirty corner tonight. Don't you think I deserve a... reward?"

"You think taking care of prisoners—as is your job description—makes me want to fabricate some truth you want to hear? How about unlocking the chains, and we can talk about it again? Face to face?"

Your snarky response might have revealed that you were aware of his intentions, but it was a well-deserved dig at the arrogant idea of his that he deserved anything from you. You were the one tortured and restrained every day. If anyone deserved anything, it was you.

Nanami grew thoughtful again but took your words with more grace than you would have liked. Getting under his skin would have been a nice reward, considering how composed he was always. But instead, you felt his fingers dig into your skin as he wrapped his hands around your wrists, the chains rattling as you hissed from the burning sensation it left.

"I'm inclined to. But I want you to ask me nicely."

You could feel the bile rise in your throat, disgusted by his demands. "Please, kind Sir! Won't you unlock me? I won't run away, I swear." Blergh. The thought alone made you physically sick. There was only one way to respond to his ridicule—with mockery.

"What happened to you? You're always so... correct. This isn't like you," you taunted him, forcing a mocking, concerned smile.

His stare was so intense you felt it burn imaginary holes into you as he dragged his gaze all over you, from your eyes to your lips, soaking up every move of your lips and the words coming from them. "I don't have to be this way when work's over, you know. I can be much more honest with my feelings without anyone else hearing us talk."

"And what are your feelings?"

Eyes locking with yours once again, you could feel the hairs in your neck bristle as a never-before-seen fury flamed up in his eyes. Suddenly, he snatched forward, wrapping one hand around your throat before pulling you out of your chair and towards him. "You drive me crazy," he confessed through clenched teeth as if admitting his feelings were hurting him. "And you know it."

If this was him outside of work, you might have underestimated the boring interrogator you were staring at every day, all day. Sure, he had been assertive in his questioning too. But this was downright abuse of his power, grabbing you violently just like you feared. But what you didn't expect, were his lips suddenly crashing against yours, a husky groan escaping his throat as he relished in dominating your mouth, forcing your lips apart.

You gasped briefly, trying to pull away, but the hand around your throat kept you in place as he slid his tongue down yours, a strong muscle exploring every inch of your mouth hungrily. When he said 'crazy,' you would have never believed he meant this kind of crazy! Crazy angry or crazy frustrated, maybe! Not crazy with passion!

It was sheer impossible to escape him, and he knew it, enjoying the experience to the fullest. You were a hundred percent sure he expected your struggles. But he didn't expect you to lean into him. Closing your eyes, you prayed for it to be over soon, but when he felt you accepting him, he exchanged the grip on your throat for a grip on the back of your head, pressing you up and into him as much as your restraints allowed. Nanami had long risen from his chair, so he hovered over you, letting out satisfied grunts and huffs as he tortured you with his tongue, again and again, needily unearthing every secret of your mouth.

At least it's him, you thought to yourself. Better Nanami than any other disgusting inhabitant of the prison. You never thought you'd get out unscathed anyway, and perhaps it was easier when it was a guard that you found conveniently attractive when there had to be someone to lay hands on you.

Only when he pulled away, hand sliding forward to cup your face and wipe away the exchanged spit from your lips, did you realize this wasn't just a pure act of lust. There was a dark affection hidden behind inquisitive eyes that seemed to want to explore your very soul. But his gentleness had to have its limits.

"Still got nothing to say to me?" Nanami asked, and you shook your head immediately. You knew that all his kindness came with a price that you weren't willing to pay. So when you opened your eyes, you glared at him with determination, making sure that he knew you'd never break, never reveal the truth he wanted desperately.

"Fine, let's try something different."

Getting up from his chair, he walked around the table and out of your sight. You felt his arm snake around your waist before he hoisted you up into a stand and pulled the chair out from under you completely, making you rely on his support. "Hey, what are you--!" you complained, suddenly feeling a twinge of panic rise despite your best efforts to stay composed. But Nanami was unsympathetic as he pulled down your pants with ease. You cursed yourself for wearing your overalls only halfway up your body—a decision Nanami had constantly reprimanded you for—the upper half merely tied around your waist and making it much too easy to bare your naked ass in one swoop of his hand.

"That's assault!" you yelled, completely taken aback by his actions.

"And?" he casually returned. "Who's going to believe it? There's no one here to witness us, and you don't think they'll take you seriously if you tell anyone, do you?"

The fact he was right was infuriating. Even more so than his hand landing on your ass, making you yelp. "I've tried to be nice, you know?" he muttered before sighing. "I've been doing overtime every day since accepting this task of making you talk. And I am tired of it. This ends now."

Another slap, but you clenched your teeth in preparation this time, holding back the frustration and humiliation you felt. This wasn't about him! Nothing was! Why couldn't he just leave you alone? Why couldn't he accept your version and your sentence, even if it was a lie?

"Tell me you did it, and this will be over. Tell me you stabbed that idiot on purpose."

Shaking your head, you refused to give in. Truth be told, for a moment, when he kissed you, you thought he wasn't that bad of a guy even though he had very strange methods of conveying his feelings. "Tell me," he kept urging. "I want the truth and nothing but."

Slap. The burning tingle sent a shockwave through you like nothing ever had. One that made you sniffle but also made your core clench like a bitch in heat. Your boyfriend had been way too vanilla, a blowjob and five times in-and-out guy before he rolled over and fell asleep, so you never got to experience anything more exciting than missionary and being asked if he made you feel good. It was nothing like the tantalizing feeling of Nanami's palm remaining on the burn, heat spreading from his hand before he lifted it, fingertips teasing the irritation until the last second as he brushed them over it with a feathery touch.

Only to strike out again.

This time, you couldn't stay silent, a gasp pushing through your teeth before fading into a whimper. You wanted to hide behind your hands so badly, but all they could do was rattle and strain against the chains. "Good," Nanami declared, and you weren't sure what he meant when you felt his hand slide down the curve of your ass, fingertips reaching lower until you felt them probe against your entrance. For the first time, you started to actively struggle, having forgotten the one arm he had used to hold you up from underneath you and immediately getting lifted off the ground until you were on your tiptoes, unable to move without risking falling over.

"Don't make me take it back," he warned you. You bit your lip, having to endure the sensation of his palm cupping your thigh this time, wandering upwards in a painstakingly slow motion. "I imagined," Nanami muttered, though you could only give him half of your attention. "What it would be like to fuck you over this table so many times."

What?

"Every day, I have to sit across from you, watch you flaunt and twist your body for me as you make up your lies. And I imagine slipping off a shoe, pressing my foot right here to keep you still for once."

Without warning, Nanami visualized his words into your mind, finding your sweet spot above your cunt, and flicking his nail over your clit with careful precision. Even if he were to let you go right then, you'd still be on your tiptoes as electric sparks ran through you, making you arch your back and mewl. Like the torturer he was, he began showing you the exact rubbing motions he had come up with in his mind when he pictured pleasing you beneath the table.

His fingers imitated a vibration better than your toys did back when you still needed to please yourself. Short, controlled left-to-right strokes, then the gentlest caresses of his fingertips, petting you like a little kitten. You could feel your muscles tense, shaking from the strain your body went through as you wanted to escape and lean into his touch at the same time. He shouldn't have been allowed to be so good with his hands when he was such an asshole.

However, as you felt yourself edging closer and closer to the sweet release of the damned, Nanami suddenly pulled away, causing you to gasp loudly as your bubble of pleasure was popped suddenly. "Don't stop--!" you whined, realizing much too late what words were leaving your mouth. Without realizing it, Nanami had an iron grip on you, forcing you to play his game too well and making you fear for everything there was to lose.

"Oh? Someone decided to speak again. Do you want more?"

Placing his pointer and middle finger to your entrance, Nanami probed again, dipping in an inch before missing it and slipping through your lips to the front, once again perturbing your poor little knob pulsing with hot need. "Tell me what the truth of what happened, and I'll fulfill your wish."

"No! Ne—hngh! Never!"

Back at your clit, Nanami continued his assault, adding twisting and long, deliberate strokes with his whole palm to push and pull at the nerve endings for as long as needed to make you gasp and shudder again. "I'll admit I like this side of you. How does it feel to not be in control for once?"

Pulling his hand away once again, you withheld the urge to scream bloody murder as you were once again denied to feel the relief you sought. As much as it pained you to admit, he was right. You definitely weren't in control over the situation, your reactions, and even your feelings—a dangerous mix considering what was at stake.

"I don't like this side of you at all, you fucking asshole--"

Slap. With no warning, Nanami brought his hand down against your butt again before slipping his hand down the roundness of your cheeks and burying his fingers in your slick. You mewled and moaned, but when his second arm reached between your legs from the front to play with you, you were nothing but a whimpering, panting mess, burying your face in the table.

"Language, please. You can tell me everything without insulting the person making you feel good."

There was an undertone of amusement in his voice, but you had no time to return a witty comment as he dug deep inside you, curling his damn fingers against your walls, your pussy spreading and wrapping around him eagerly. That traitor, you thought, cursing at your body being wet and welcoming to his antics as you felt Nanami spread his fingers in scissoring motions, your cunt making a pleased, sloppy pop! when he finally pulled them out.

Only to go right back in again. Mercilessly, Nanami carved you out in a most delicious way, your core doing somersaults every time he brushed past the good spots. There was a barely noticeable shift on your feet as your body decided to rock back into his hand. Just slightly, but enough for him to get cocky.

"Got anything to say?"

"N-No..."

"And now?"

"Ngh! S-Stop--!"

"Not until you tell me what I want to hear."

Hooking you on his fingers, Nanami pulled you upwards until there was barely any room left to stand on your toes before he pulled out, catching your body with his arm around your waist before it could cascade to the ground. "You're so mean," you whimpered, realizing that he could tell whenever you neared your orgasm. He couldn't possibly know you well-enough, so perhaps he was simply experienced. Or all this time spent watching you had been enough to reveal all your cues to him; you'd probably never know. Either way, losing the stimulation even though he teased you with light touches against the hot, dripping wetness soaking your skin, all you felt was horror and shame.

On the other hand, your stomach was no longer filled with hunger and frustration, just need and pleasure. Knots filled the emptiness in you, and you were waiting for Nanami to release them all at once, exploding fireworks in you like your selfish boyfriend never could. Your need was palpable in the room, making you greedy no matter how much you restrained yourself. It gave you all the worst ideas, from how it would feel if Nanami was the one on top of you. How big his cock must be when his hands left these enormous marks on your ass, and what kinds of things he'd do with you if you gave in.

No.

No, you couldn't. You absolutely mustn't give in to him, no matter the cost.

"... can't."

"What?" he asked, perking up at the sound of your voice even though he was busy fucking you with just two joints of his long, slick fingers, shallowly sliding in and out, teasing your need to be filled to the brim by him.

"Maybe you can't do it."

"Do what?" you could hear the hints of irritation, feel them in the way he let his fingers spread and close at your entrance over and over as impatient punishment. And you smirked, knowing he was hooked now.

"You can't make me cum. It's taking you a long time, for sure."

The silence was delicious to you, having hit a sore spot, apparently. Then, Nanami let out the faintest of laughs, sounding uncharacteristically beautiful, before pressing his fingers back in with one skillful push. Working simultaneously at your clit and pumping his fingers in and out, it wasn't long until he led you back to the edge of orgasm, making you mewl and shudder as he found the right methods to please you, his movements so naturally as if he belonged to your body. To your pleasure. At the last second, the last pump of his fingers, you felt your body tense, your back arching as you stretched on your tiptoes to accommodate him, and Nanami...

Nanami stopped.

He did so with what felt like the force of a cold ice bucket thrown over your head. Pulling away and stepping a few steps back, even taking his body warmth away from your dripping cunt, was the worst kind of torture. You tried to push yourself over the edge, clenching your walls and releasing them, imagining once more what it would be like to be fucked by his massive cock. But with tears shooting into your eyes, you failed, curling into yourself on top of the table as you had to realize he wasn't going to come back to finish this. No matter the number of deep breaths you took, the frustration was hard to settle, even though you got what you wanted—it was finally over.

"Wow..." you muttered, the knots in your stomach tightening painfully. The sound of his shoes made your brain aware of Nanami's presence, even though he kept a respectful distance as he walked back to his chair. You heard him sniff something, then forced your eyes to watch him lick his fingers with an unfittingly stern expression. Sitting down across from you, you could see the bulge in his pants, not even hidden behind the dim light or the tight uniform trousers. Seeing this and knowing he had to manage just as much self-restraint as you had to was your only solace.

"Thanks for nothing," you chuckled, forcing a mocking grin at him before letting your body weight relax on top of the table again. No more strain was needed, with your orgasm completely ruined.

"You can thank me after you beg me to make you cum. These games of yours don't work on me."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that," you muttered into the table, feeling exhausted. But there was gratification in knowing you had won, even though the price had been incredibly frustrating. Instead of fighting the chains, you merely flattened your palm, your fingertips barely reaching his chest. You dragged them downwards, feeling his abs underneath his shirt. Nanami caught your hand, clutching it painfully tight for a moment before he let out a tense breath, leaning down to press your tips against his lips.

"Next time, I'll make you talk, I promise."

"Tough luck," you huffed back, undeterred by his determination. With all the tension between you two disappearing into thin air, you were incredibly exhausted. Even so, your brain managed to still think straight and watch him close his eyes as he pushed his lips against the tips of your fingers repeatedly, almost reverently, as if he was in a silent prayer.

"Why me?" you whispered, and Nanami's expression turned softer, eyes never opening as he mumbled back, "Why you, I wonder."

Then, his eyes snapped open again, dark but sharp as always, his gaze drilling right through the shell of your body and into your very soul. You couldn't read him at all, neither the stoic, assertive guard version of him nor his after-hour, dominant human self. But at the same time, you learned two things that day. Two things that frightened you even after he undid the chains on your hand and left you alone in the interrogation room for you to pick yourself up and drag yourself out. Two things that made all your plans to sit out your sentence and return to your normal life much more difficult.

One, you really, really wanted him to make you cum.

Two, his reason for being so determined to catch your lie was so much worse than you could have ever expected.

"Because if I can make you confess, no one can stop me from making you all mine."

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