#toss in a word and I'm your villain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notiddygxthgf · 7 months

Text

❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias.

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there.

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view.

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting.

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment.

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away.

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly.

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him.

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly.

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard.

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather.

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back.

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze.

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated.

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch.

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it.

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going.

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?”

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue.

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter.

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him.

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content.

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged.

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back.

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands.

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away.

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help.

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead.

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair.

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him.

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time.

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats.

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing.

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over.

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes.

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips.

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji.

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap.

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act.

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair.

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear.

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts.

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters.

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor.

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno.

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head.

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good.

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free.

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips.

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this.

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you.

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth.

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger.

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door.

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him.

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess.

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you.

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life.

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck.

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that.

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin.

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster.

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life.

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back.

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly.

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition).

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles.

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized.

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat.

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood.

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth.

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer.

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it.

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss.

You broke the silence after a minute or two.

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down.

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground.

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades.

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

1K notes · View notes

littledemondani · 2 years

Text

all mine

warnings: MINORS DNI! jealous!eddie, slight dom!eddie, possessive!eddie, unprotected sex, cheerleader!fem!reader, infidelity, reader and jason are together, creampie, dirty talk, mentions of drug use, jason is a douche, canon divergence, suggestive use of a lollipop

word count: 3.4k

a/n: this is just pure filth. i'm not even sorry. also, my requests are open! and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future stuff. you can read the prequel here.

“or a gaaame where you toss balls into laundry baskets!” eddie yelled, his hands cupped to his mouth to amplify the sound of his voice as he stood on top of the cafeteria table.

“you want something, freak?” your boyfriend, jason, said as he stood up from his seat next to you, glaring daggers at him.

you sighed, rolling your eyes in complete annoyance at jason’s incessant need to belittle eddie at any given chance he gets. it was a tired game he played entirely by himself, given that eddie usually didn't give in to his antagonizing bullshit. but lately, he had started to counter back, and, like he’s doing at the moment, hurling the insults without being provoked.

and you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think it had anything to do with you.

for the past few months you had been sneaking around with eddie behind jason’s back. you knew it was wrong to go out on your boyfriend. he treated you well, bought you everything that you wanted, flaunted you in front of the entire school. he was every girl’s dream guy, the one they all fawned over. yet, you didn’t feel that way about him - not after getting to know the real jason.

the one he kept hidden, save for the moments when he bullied anyone who he didn’t think was on the same level as him. he didn’t see you as his girlfriend, he saw you as a trophy that he had won. the most popular guy in school dating the most popular girl. before you became head cheerleader he hadn’t even bothered to say more than a few words to you, but like everyone else, you had fallen under his pretty boy spell.

until eddie munson came into your life.

all you had needed was something to take the edge off. the pressure your parents put on you to be perfect - the perfect student, have perfect looks, and get into the college of their choice - had started to become too much. you knew from talks around school that eddie was a dealer, so you sought him out after school on a cold, december day.

to say you were completely surprised by him was an understatement. the big, scary, metalhead freak was actually incredibly sweet, funny, and nothing like the villain everyone made him out to be. it was even more surprising when he said he felt the exact same about you. you hadn’t thought of yourself as being intimidating or scary in the least, but you figured being jason’s girlfriend probably had a lot to do with why he thought that of you.

the two of you hit it off right away, and kept seeing each other regularly after that day. you’d hang out every thursday before hellfire, then it became every tuesday and thursday, eventually turning into whenever you had free time. being around him felt like a breath of fresh air, like you could be yourself without fear of judgment.

your feelings for him developed naturally over time and you did everything you could to fight them off. having feelings for someone else that wasn’t your boyfriend wasn’t something you did. but on the night you were alone with eddie in his trailer, sharing a joint between the two of you, his big, dark brown eyes gazing into yours intently, you couldn’t hold back anymore.

when eddie leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to your own, you didn’t stop him. when he kissed you, as if it had been the only thing on his mind for a long time, you didn’t stop him. when he reached his hand under your shirt, you didn’t stop him. you didn’t stop him from unbuckling your belt, pulling your shirt up over your head, or from fucking you multiple times. you wanted him, more than you had wanted anyone, and were relieved that he wanted you just as badly.

“jason,” you chastised, narrowing your y/e/c eyes up at him. “just let it go, please?”

he nodded, though he didn’t look away from eddie, and kept standing with his hands balled into fists at his side.

eddie stuck his tongue out at him, bringing his hands beside his head like the devil horns on his hellfire t-shirt. you couldn’t help the small snicker that escaped past your lips, and you covered it up with a cough once you realized you had done it out loud.

“freak,” jason mumbled under his breath as he sat back down, completely unaware of anything you had just done.

eddie’s hardened gaze fell to you, softening only when he made eye contact with you. you felt your heart flutter, and the familiar warmth that spread throughout your body each time eddie was around you. to keep from completely blowing your cover, you went back to sucking on the cherry-flavored lollipop perched between your fingers, like you had been doing before eddie’s public tirade.

he soon retreated to his own seat, but not before terrorizing some poor teacher just trying to leave back to her classroom.

jason shook his head, a look of disgust on his features as he turned to his friends. “which one of you is getting the beer for tonight?” he asked, once again oblivious to the apparent scowl on your face at the mention of alcohol.

“patrick and i are going after school,” andy said. “my brother is gonna buy it for us.”

you swirl the lollipop around in your mouth as you try to tune the boys out, completely uninterested in the conversation they’re having. your thoughts immediately go to eddie, of him glaring at jason not even moments ago, and how fucking hot he looked. you imagined how he’d be like in bed if he ever fucked his frustrations out on you. maybe he’d handcuff your wrists together with the cuffs hanging on the wall next to his bed, using you however he saw fit. and you’d gladly let him.

you'd let eddie do whatever he wanted to you if it meant you got to feel his long, thick cock deep inside of you.

which is what you currently craved at that moment.

you glance over at his table hoping to grab his attention. he was talking to those kids, nancy wheeler’s little brother, and his shorter friend with the curly hair - you couldn’t remember their names. mike? justin? or what was it dustin? you watched as he picked them both up by their hellfire shirts, whispering something in their ears before slightly pushing them away towards another table.

eddie waited for the two freshmen to sit with a group of other lonely freshmen before he turned to walk back to seat, only to notice you looking in his direction.

you run your tongue over the top of the lollipop in a suggestive manner, keeping eye contact with eddie as you do so. you noticed him swallowing thickly, letting you know your spur of the moment plan was working.

you wrapped your lips around the candy, bobbing your head subtly, not wanting jason to see just what you were getting up to. he was still going on with his friends and forgot you were even there - what else is new, though?

eddie watched you intently, feeling the blood rush straight down to his cock. he was shocked that you’d do something so bold, seeing as it wasn’t like you, but the mere fact that you were, with your boyfriend sitting right next to you no less, turned him on way more than he’d like to admit.

gareth called out to him, and for a moment he broke eye contact to whip his head towards his floppy-haired friend. he made a ‘what are you doing?’ gesture at eddie. only then did he realize he was still standing in the middle of the cafeteria, on the verge of a fucking hard-on. he made his way back to the table and grabbed his stuff. he looked over at you and signaled for you to follow after him: a simple brush of his hand through his hair as he eyes you up and down.

you both came up with signals for when you couldn’t be seen together. some for regular talks, when one of you had a bad day and needed the other, or, like in this case, a quick fuck.

you wait for eddie to leave the cafeteria before standing up from your seat and glancing down at jason. “i’m gonna head out,” you said, gathering your backpack from behind the chair.

jason doesn’t hear you over the loud chatter, too occupied with his friends to even notice you’d gotten up. you scoff, shaking your head as you push the seat in, and that’s when jason pays attention.

“where are you going?” he asked, turning in his chair to look up at you.

“if you had heard me the first time, i said i was gonna go.” you didn’t even try to hide the annoyance in your voice, but knowing jason, he’d be too clueless to even sense it.

“what? why? lunch isn’t over yet,” he said, brows furrowed slightly. just like you thought, completely clueless.

“i have that exam coming up in history that i have to study for, remember,” you lied, slinging your backpack onto your shoulders. “if i don’t at least get an A- you know my mother will kill me.”

he seemed to accept that answer, giving you a soft nod, and you leaned down to press a quick, chaste kiss to his cheek before walking out of the cafeteria.

you wandered down the desolate halls of hawkins high in search of eddie. all of the classroom doors were shut with the lights off, save for one at the end of the hallway. you recognized it as the one eddie used for hellfire, and you hurried towards it before anyone could see you. you knock once, twice, and wait for eddie to open the door for you.

he quickly closes the door behind you once you step in, making sure it’s locked so no one else can enter. once the coast is clear, and the two of you are secured inside, he turns to you with a lustful glint in his dark brown eyes.

“that little show you put on back there was definitely something. sucking on your lollipop like that, for me, in front of your boyfriend,” he said, emphasizing the last word with a hint of malice in his tone.

you pick up on it right away and it catches you off guard. eddie had never shown any disdain for your relationship in the three months that you’d been sleeping with him. he’d crack jokes here and there about jason not being able to satisfy you the way he could, which wasn’t a lie at all, he never made you cum whenever you fuck him.

was eddie starting to get jealous?

you couldn’t deny the thought of it added fuel to the already raging fire of arousal burning within you.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, feigning innocence as you gaze up at him with your big, y/e/c eyes. you swirl your tongue around the lollipop for good measure, hoping to get yet another rise out of him.

it worked.

eddie hummed in appreciation, though the look on his face told an entirely different story. “you see, princess, i think you know exactly what i’m talking about.” he reached forward and pulled the lollipop from your mouth, smirking at the shocked expression on your features. he holds it up in front of you, brow raised as he waits for you to admit what you both know is the truth.

the pet name effectively kills any ounce of rebellion you had in you, rendering you completely blank. it was a main weakness of yours that eddie loved to use to his advantage, not that you were complaining.

he took your loss of words as a win, smirking slightly as he slowly made his way over to you until he was mere inches away from your face. “you did that to rile me up, didn’t you? you wanted this. want me to fuck you.”

his close proximity to you, the smell of cheap cologne mixed with the faintest scent of cigarettes, has your head spinning with lust. you couldn’t keep up the charade of innocence anymore. you just wanted him. needed him.

“yes,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat fan across your cheeks as you meet his darkened eyes.. it never failed to amaze you how easily eddie could reduce you to practically nothing without really even trying.

“hm, who knew my girl could be so naughty,” he said thoughtfully, brushing his fingers down your cheek to your chin. he let his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, taking in your natural beauty before pressing his lips to yours. the kiss is a mix of soft, but needy. you could taste the remnants of cinnamon gum on his tongue. he broke away first, resting his forehead on top of yours. “if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

in a swift movement, he pushed your backpack straps off of your shoulders and hoisted you into the air, walking you back towards the D&D table. he carefully sat you on the edge, settling in between your legs as he leaned back in to kiss you heatedly. you both roamed your hands up and down each other’s bodies, needing to feel the other as close as possible. being apart from each other for majority of the day was frustrating for the both of you, and any time you’re together, you can’t keep from touching.

his hand found it’s way to your inner thigh, squeezing lightly before pushing up the hem of your cheerleading skirt to your pelvis. his fingertips toyed with the waistband of the spankies, groaning in annoyance.

“have i ever told you how much i hate when you wear these?” he asked, tugging the offending article of clothing down your legs and tossing them somewhere behind him.

“only every time i wear them,” you giggle, hooking your fingers through one of the belt loops on his jeans and pulling him closer to you. you make quick work of undoing his belt buckle and jeans, pushing them as far down as you could. “you know i have to. unless you want the entire school to see my goods?”

“noooo thanks,” he said, helping you in removing his pants. he takes his cock in hand, pumping a few times while he pulls your panties to the side. he rubs the tip through your soaked pussy, sucking in a sharp breath as he feels just how wet you really are. “i’d rather them not.”

he pushes into you with ease, and you let out a loud, drawn out moan, your head tipping back. he stills once he’s filled you to the hilt, giving you time to adjust to his massive size.

“eddie,” you moan, rolling your hips against him in an attempt to get him to move. “we don’t have much time.”

as much as he’d love to tease you right then and there, make you squirm and beg for him to fuck you, he knew you were right.

“tell me if it’s too much,” he said, thrusting into you with a fast, rough pace.

it was never too much any time eddie was concerned. in fact, it was never enough for you. you always wanted more than what he gave you. for it to be faster, harder, rougher. you wanted to be able to feel him for days after he was through with you. and he always gave you what you wanted, but not before making sure you were one hundred percent okay.

“oh fuck…!” you cried out, face contorting into pleasure as the tip of his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “mm..fuck, you feel so good, eddie.”

“you feel so fucking good, too,” he moaned, gazing down at you as his bangs fell in front of his eyes. “best fucking pussy i’ve ever had.”

he brought his hand to your cunt, and began rubbing fast, tight circles against your aching clit. he smirked as he watched you writhe beneath him, the way you clutched at him like your life depended on it, using your ankles to push him even further inside of you. he loved knowing he was the only one who could make you this way, reveled in it even, and a part of him wished he could have you like this all to himself.

“tell me, princess,” he said, leaning forward slightly so he could angle your hips a little better. “who do you belong to?”

the words are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t find the strength to say them, not when he has you right there on the brink of your release. he senses your dilemma without you needing to say anything, and he slows down the speed of his thrusts, but not the intensity.

“y-you,” you mewl, brushing his hair out of his eyes. you make sure he knows you mean it. you kiss him deeply, bringing your hand to tug on his hair. “i-i’m yours.”

“that’s right you are,” he breathes against your lips, resuming his previous fast pace. “all. fucking. mine.” he accentuated the words with his thrusts, each one significantly harder than the last.

you nodded rapidly, peppering kisses along his jaw down to his neck. you gently nipped at his sensitive spot, feeling him shiver a bit against you. you kept going, licking and sucking his skin until a soft pink mark appeared. you admired the way it looked in contrast with his light skin tone.

eddie’s cock twitched, signaling he was closer than he had anticipated.

“are you close?” he asked, cupping your face in his large hand as he gazed down at you. the metal of his rings felt cool against your heated skin, and you absentmindedly leaned into his touch.

“yes,” you moan, bringing your hand to cup his cheek as well. “are you close?”

“fuck yes i am,” he groaned, chuckling breathlessly. “you feel way too fucking good.”

his fingers found their way back to your clit, determined to make you cum before him. “let go, baby. cum for me.”

the white hot pressure building up inside of you finally burst with a few more thrusts and swipes of his fingers, and you cum with a loud cry of his name.

he held you close to him to keep you from slumping over, pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. “cum inside of me,” you moan into the kiss, tugging on his long curls.

“are you sure? i will if that’s what y—,”

“it is,” you cut him off. “please…i just wanna feel you cum inside of me. please…”

eddie groans loud, giving one more heated kiss before pulling back. he grips your hips tightly, and chases his own release. it doesn’t take that long, and he shoots hot ropes of his cum deep within your walls.

you wrap your arm over his shoulder, holding him the same way he held you during your release. you press soft, soothing kisses to his cheek, your free hand resting behind his head.

once you've both come down from your respective highs, eddie reluctantly pulls out of you, groaning as a drop of his cum leaks from your entrance. “fuck that’s so hot,” he muses, bringing his finger to run through it before trying to push it back inside of you.

you chuckle in amusement, shaking your head lightly. “only you would think that’s hot.”

“any guy would agree that it’s pretty fucking hot to watch his cum spill out of a girl’s pussy,” he says matter of factly, though a smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

he pulls your panties back over your cunt, patting it twice to make sure they stay in place.

“dear god.” you hop off of the table, holding onto eddie’s arm for balance. he picks up your spankies off of the floor and helps put them on you, giving you a tender kiss once he’s done.

“it’s even hotter knowing you’re gonna go back to your boyfriend with my cum inside of you.”

that shouldn’t have made your cunt throb the way it did, but then again you shouldn’t be doing anything you’ve been doing the past three months.

“and it’s really hot knowing you’ll be walking around with that hickey i made you,” you said, smirking as you gesture to the now reddened mark on his neck. “good luck trying to tell everyone how you got that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction

12K notes · View notes

randomshyperson · 4 months

Text

R U Mine? - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: A game of cat and mouse begins between an Avenger and a criminal. But perhaps there are no winners, as they both fall.

Warnings: mentions of typical canon violence, hints of abusive past and unhealthy work dynamics, some superhero routine lore, more shapeshifter power mentions, mutual pining, forbidden relationship, some teasing, (first) kiss and then a lot of kisses and steamy make out, some fluff and comedy. | Words: 6.965K

A/N-> How many references to Killing Eve can one put in a story. And also, references to the Witch's Road comics. This here is the extra chapter about their first kiss, enjoy reading.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

Before.

"I know what you're doing."

Three weeks prior, Natasha's sentence would have made her jump with fright. Perhaps she would have tried to hide all those files and lie and lie again, until she could convince herself the whole thing was about the job.

But today? Wanda was tired. She had spent the last few hours stumbling into dead ends, no progress on whatever she was trying to do with all that vague information Shield had on you.

So she lifted her face to the redhead who appeared in her room late at night, two cups of coffee in hand, and chuckled weakly at the statement. It was obvious that the drink was an invitation - perhaps even a sign of 'hey, I'm not trying to start a fight. I want to help,' and Wanda accepted without hesitation.

"It's not like I'm doing a good job of keeping it a secret." She retorts to Nat, who smiles before taking the empty space on the bed. Practically all the Shield files - now labeled Avengers - about you are scattered on the mattress. It's a mess, and to Nat, it makes sense that Wanda hasn't made much progress.

"To be fair, for a first-time Investigation, I think you're doing all right." Says the widow after a sip of her coffee. "You covered your tracks and even used an official justification for researching her. Your mistake was involving Vision."

Wanda sighs. "Let me guess, he talks under pressure?"

Nat chuckles, nodding. Wanda rubs a tension point on her forehead. Taking advantage of this, Natasha gestures to one of the files. "I'm not going to tell you what you can and can't do, Maximoff. But this doesn't seem very healthy."

Wanda gives a sad smile, and Nat expects her to defend herself. But instead, the smaller girl sighs. "I know." She murmurs sincerely, forcing a faint smile at the widow. "But I need this, Nat. It's the first time in months that I've managed to think about anything other than Pietro. And I know it doesn't look healthy, but it's all I've got. I'm an Avenger now. Maybe it's just time to get to work, and arrest villains or something."

Natasha frowned at her, absorbing the confession for a moment before rebutting: "Is that what you want to do with Y/N, though? Lock her up?"

Wanda swallows dryly, looking down. "Of course, Nat."

"You're a terrible liar."

The brunette sighs. "I mean it!"

"And I don't believe you." Nat insists in a good mood despite everything. "Look at all this, Wanda. You've been at it for days. Studying her. Did you even remember to eat anything in the last few hours?" Wanda snorts, gesturing to the breakfast leftovers on the dresser in the corner of the room which makes Natasha let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow, a nutritious example you are."

The witch tosses her hair back. "If you've come here to try to babysit me, please leave."

Natasha rolled her eyes and ignored the other woman's stubbornness. She put her coffee down between her crossed legs and started organizing the files.

"You're naturally perceptive and clever, Maximoff. But you lack experience and practice. You need to put together a timeline and find the gaps." The widow began, and masterfully, all the security camera photos, reports from shield agents, and unexplained crimes related to thieves with no identifiable faces began to connect and make sense. "But I must warn you, I did all this years ago. When I started at Shield, your little friend was already some sort of the goose that laid the golden eggs, or stole the gold for the saying to work."

"She's not my friend." Wanda murmured, her gaze fixed on the files so Natasha wouldn't see her blush. The widow ignored the comment and continued talking.

"My point is that I didn't get very far." Nat says with a sigh. "To be honest, it was an insult to my ego. She was just a kid back there. And she managed to flee much more experienced agents. She had endless, untraceable disguises. She doesn't need to impersonate, you know? She can create faces. It makes her almost impossible to monitor. When we met for the first time, it was she who found me." Nat says, swallowing dryly at her own memories. Wanda's eyes widen softly, listening carefully. "I never told this to anyone, but when Clint first met me, he told me that he felt something. As if he knew I wanted to escape. And when I saw Y/N, I had the same feeling."

"What did you do?" Wanda asked and Nat sighed.

"I couldn't do what Clitn did for me, Wanda, I'm sorry." Said the widow sincerely. "She attacked first. And I had to defend myself. It wasn't just protocol, it was all I'd learned to do."

Wanda frowns. "Why are you telling me all this, Nat?"

The redhead sighs. "Because it's important. It means that she doesn't trust easily, and attacks when she feels threatened. She reminds me of both of us, to be honest." Nat comments, getting a small smile from the witch. "Besides, I want you to be really careful if you do dig into this."

"I will."

"I'm serious, Wanda." Insists the redhead. "Careful not to miss a gun hidden in her dress." She remembers the last official report Wanda made, regarding her first mission, the night she simply couldn't stop thinking about, especially after your secret vision to the compound, and the witch swallows dryly. Nat doesn't mind her hesitation. "Careful in a way that you'll use your powers if necessary."

Without looking the widow in the eye, Wanda retorts between her teeth: "I get it, Nat."

"You're not going to carry this on until you look me in the eye, Maximoff. And swear it."

Wanda's stubbornness falters, and she returns her attention to the widow, looking at her seriously. Nat gives her a small smile as she adds, "It's not just Clint who cares about your safety. We all do. I'm not going to allow you to throw yourself headlong into something dangerous just to escape your grief, Wanda. Swear that you'll be very careful, and you'll walk away if it gets too dangerous."

Wanda is surprised by the tenderness, and a little embarrassed. It takes a moment but she finally nods. "I swear." She says before adding. "I want to help Y/N. Like Clint helped you. Not lock her up, like I said before."

Natasha chuckles. "I know, kid. I know."

With the Black Widow’s blessing, she kept digging those files. And Nat didn't lie, you're untraceable. Every time you meet, it's clear that you've let yourself be found. Even with handcuffs on your wrist, you keep smiling as if it was all part of the plan. Judging by the way you always escape from prisons, later going public that some confidential information for the police was stolen, this is easily confirmed.

The Avengers are getting used to the strange persecution, very much because each of them has their secrets. And just like his protégé, Steve Rogers had side missions to pursue Bucky. It would be hypocritical of him to hold anything against Wanda for being after you.

And Wanda couldn't stop. Even after hundreds of dead ends and ridiculous escapes. She had to meet you, and have less than five minutes in your presence with another twelve agents and the whole Avengers present every fortnight when they manage to track you only for you to escape again. She didn't know why, but she had the impression that you looked forward to these moments as much as she did.

Like a little private game of mouse and cat, only you and her were part of.

-&-

There are a hundred things to do in the Capital of Crime.

The most complete list of gambling games imaginable, right down to a mural of targets to be captured.

All these things are at your disposal, and all you can think about is the new addition to the Avengers team.

Wanda Maximoff was born in the country that fell from the sky around the same time that Baron Strucker was playing Pinky and the Brain with your cells in a secret laboratory of the now-destroyed Hydra. A Stark bomb made her an orphan, and after bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, often expelled for getting into trouble with her twin brother, Wanda embarked on protest groups in search of civil rights until she was finally recruited into a human experimentation program that turned her into an enhanced version of herself. She was the only reason for the first time in your life that you wished you hadn't split with Strucker so soon - If you'd still been his puppy instead of the clients he got, you would have met her. You may have become friends.

"She's doing it again." Xu Xialing whispered to Layla, the two engaged in a game of Beat the Hero - a competition of colored cards that contained electronic figures detailing the abilities of real-life superheroes. It was, in a way, training for possible battles in real life, where they learned about their enemies by playing. The two of them were sitting in opposite armchairs, while you were practically lying on the sofa, drinking with a lost look on your face. According to them, fantasizing for the tenth time in a row about the Avenger you met in Italia weeks ago.

Layla giggled when she saw your expression before turning her face to Xu Xialing again. "You know, they say Maximoff has psychic powers. Maybe Y/N is under a spell."

"A love spell, that is." Mocks the Chinese woman, getting a laugh from the other.

You only came out of your trance of thoughts about Wanda with the bell from the private room you were in. Your face changed before the curtain opened, and Xu Xialing was the first to look at the security guard entering, somewhat annoyed at having her private time playing games with friends interrupted.

"Forgive me for intruding, madam. The Countess is here and requests the Sage to join her." The man said, and Xialing nodded in understanding. She turned to you, but there was no need. With a soft leap from the sofa, you got to your feet and took one of Layla's cards from her pile - you threw it on the board and helped her win the game, taking the opportunity to leave the room while the two of them discussed whether the assisted victory had been fair or not.

The Golden Daggers Club was as packed and vibrant as ever. The next round of betting for the fights was due to start soon, and there were a lot of people shouting their bets to the judges, and joining the fight cages, so you had to make some effort to follow the venue's security guard into the special area of the place - where federal agents were given even more privacy to be around.

Contessa Valentina Allegra de la Fontaine was waiting for you alone, but behind a door with six security guards guarding her. Each of them gave you a look of contempt, but you walked past them without any reaction until you were with Valentina in a room with no windows, every inch of which was covered in priceless works of art, many of them stolen throughout history, which you and Layla recovered together in the service of the Ten Rings.

"You wanted to see me, Countess?" was your greeting, softly snarky. You weren't in the best of moods, especially since Valentina had interrupted your rest.

The woman gave you a false smile from the armchair where she was sitting waiting for you. A closed file and a glass of wine lay on the corner table.

"Oh, what a surprise, after your last defeat, I thought you'd given up on Sage." She comments with a certain venom on your disguise, the same one you wore two weeks ago when you went on what she called a streak of bad luck in the Club's fighting competitions, but which Xu Xialing called a distracted lovesick puppy. You try to disguise your clumsiness by clearing your throat.

Checking that the door is closed, you return to your real appearance and Valentina gives you a small but genuine smile.

"What do you want?" you insist, and in response, she pats the file resting on the table. You sigh. "What's this?"

"Last month has been very busy, but I've finally had time to review some of your late missions reports." She begins and you hide your nervousness, knowing full well where this conversation could end. "I apologize for taking so long to check them, darling. I hope you don’t think I’m jeopardizing your learning progress."

"Stop stalling, Valentina, just tell me what the problem is." You retort grumpily but she chuckles, her fingers tracing the paper before she grabs the file.

“Normally, I trust your experience, but I've heard that you've been particularly... antsy in your last few operations. Of course, you've successfully made it out of all of them, after all, we're having this conversation, but for a master of disguise, the increased number of encounters with the Avengers attracted my curiosity. I thought I'd take a closer look at your original encounters with them, and found an interesting passage in your report on Italy two months ago."

The page is already marked and in the next moment, she begins to read;

"My exit was interrupted by the presence of a new Avenger. A woman, perhaps the same age as me. The new, improved one from Sokovia. Average height, brown hair. Green eyes. Intense. Hypnotizing."

You swallow dryly, looking down at your feet. You're grateful to have control over your own body, or Valentina would be able to watch your cheeks blush.

She continues reading. "We faced each other briefly. The girl doesn't have complete control of her abilities, it was a quick fight. I immobilized her and departed in the getaway vehicle. No disguise was compromised, no other witnesses." Valentina narrates, finally raising her eyes from the file to you. "You know what's funny, sweetheart? The Avengers submitted their own report on Sapienza, and Wanda Maximoff describes the encounter with a Shapeshifter in detail. My question is, why are you lying for someone who didn't hesitate to use her special abilities to show her team your real appearance?"

You're caught off guard. A conflict of emotions rises in your chest, from anger to disappointment. It hurts. It's confusing and suffocating, and you feel the urge to start crying. But none of these emotions floats over your expression, your nails digging into your palm are enough to keep everything well buried.

With a soft sigh, you look Valentina in the eye.

"I don't trust the CIA."

Your boss chuckles, closing the file and crossing her legs. It's not exactly her best lie, but it seems to work on her.

"If this is about the Hydra clean-up in the public sector, I can assure you that we're safe." Valentina says. "Besides, your job is to trust me, Y/N. Not the CIA, or the Ten Rings, or any of your contractors. Only me, dear child, must you trust."

You bite your tongue hard, tears almost escaping this time.

"I just..." You try, not knowing exactly what to say. "There was a conflict, and the girl, she beat me. Effortlessly. That energy she possesses revealed my disguise immediately, I had no chance to try another one. So I made a choice, and I omitted the part that I thought would do me any harm. Isn't that what you taught me to do?"

Right answer. Valentina grins, before sighing and standing up. You don't want her to touch you, but she puts her hands on your arms and you resist the urge to pull away.

"I'm proud of you, you're getting cleverer every day. I want you to be this way, Y/N. Strong-willed, resourceful." She compliments you, her hands moving up to your cheeks. You try to smile, but Valentina squeezes your skin tighter. "That doesn't mean you will lie to me. Understand?" She asks but doesn't expect a vocal response. Your nod is more than enough for her to give you a fake smile and loosen her grip. "You're my most valuable employee. I don't want you to put yourself in vulnerable situations without a reason."

Valentina steps away, and you decide to take a chance.

"She's like me." It's more hesitant than you'd like, but it's enough to make your boss raise an eyebrow at you. Swallowing dryly, you continue. "Wanda and her brother were also Strucker's experiments. We are the same. I thought I could-"

Valentina interrupts with a spiteful chuckle that makes you cringe like a frightened child. "The same? Is that what you think?" She retorts in a mocking tone that makes you feel too ashamed to even broach the subject. Leaning her waist on the table, she looks at you. "I know you've been digging through my files on her, Y/N. I don't blame you for being curious, but by now, I imagine you know very well the conditions of the experiments Miss Maximoff was part of. How she volunteered for all that. How can you say you're the same?"

You hesitate uneasily. "I don't mind that she volunteered. War called for desperate measures. I just... I've never met any other of us. Another who survived the Baron. I've been thinking if I could just see her-"

Valentina bursts into laughter, and you fall silent, concentrating so that she can't see your red ears. "See her? Now what's that, huh? Romeo and Juliet of the supers? What an absurd idea, child!" Refutes your boss, still chuckling as she walks away to the table. She finishes her glass of wine in one long gulp, and to your surprise, throws the file in your direction. You catch the item flat against your chest. "The notes the Avengers made about you are on page 24. Read what she said about you, and draw your own conclusions about who you call an equal. I came here to confirm your mental state, and this conversation was enlightening. I'll arrange an assessment."

"Val-"

"It’s not open for discussions Y/N." She cuts you off, a car key already in hand that makes you groan to yourself impatiently. "You're not going back to work until you talk to Doctor Grand."

She leaves without saying another word and you're left alone with the file in your hands. Without hurrying, you flip to the page mentioned earlier and sigh when you find a photograph of Wanda wearing a uniform with the Avengers crest embroidered on it. Below is her statement about the mission.

You trace your fingers over the passage "An extraordinary and dangerous skill from an equally impressive fighter" but hesitate when you read the passages about how she felt scared and unsafe. About how she thought you were aiming at her. About how she felt she failed by not bringing a high-risk criminal into custody.

Your tears finally fall, staining the page before you quickly wipe them away, closing the file tightly after ripping Wanda's photo out.

It was time to wrap up loose ends and get back to your perfect record.

-&-

In the fake drawer hidden on the floor under your bed - safeguards for someone whose apartment is frequently visited by a two-faced countess - you kept some personal things. Hydra's last record of you, small souvenirs from missions, and a photograph of Wanda Maximoff.

And this morning - and any other morning really - you were supposed to ignore that drawer, leave any weapons at home, put on a presentable outfit, and meet Valentina in the lobby promptly at 10 o'clock. She would take you by car to Dr. Grant's office who would do a standard assessment of your mental state that would tell whether or not you were fit to return to work.

But instead, you took the photo of Wanda out of its hiding place and put it in your pocket. You stood up, walked through your closet, and chose the least flashy backpack you owned. Then you armed yourself with three different types of knives and two pistols in a chest holster, very similar to that of American detectives. And speaking of the police, your drawer of false documentation provided by Valentina was studied without haste until you had in your pockets the identity of a Shield agent who never existed but was meant to be a little tribute to the job you were performing today.

With your disguise ready, you left the apartment two hours before your scheduled meeting with Valentina, and you had barely boarded the ferry when she called you.

"Our appointments aren't something to be skipped, young lady." Stated the woman seriously, but you gave her a weary sigh.

"I don't wish to see Doctor Grant."

Valentina chuckled, as you handed your ticket to the clerk passing in the corridors. On the other end of the line, she then spoke;

"You're not getting away with this, Y/N. I'm not authorizing your return to work until Roland confirms to me that your mental state is stable for you to continue."

You prop your feet up on the seat, switching your cell phone to another ear. "Val, I'm not running away, I promise. I just needed a break. Give me a few days, okay? Reschedule the visit, I'll be there. I'll even be there early."

She pauses thoughtfully, you can hear her breathing. And then she sighs in defeat and you smile. "Okay. If it's any encouragement, your next service is already being prepared. It's something you've never stolen before, and I'd like it to be yours. Of course, if you prove suitable."

A few weeks ago, the temptation would have been too much and you would have turned around and gone to the appointment just to win Grant's approval and be cleared for the job. To prove not only to Valentina, but to the world, and to any other colleague, that you could complete that mission.

But now you let out a short laugh, and that surprises Valentina enough for her to keep quiet. "Reschedule for the end of the week. I guarantee that I'll have Dr. Grant's approval and you'll have your order in no time."

The promise seems to be enough for her, and after another sigh, Valentina hangs up. You put your cell phone away and return your attention to the now-stamped train ticket to New York.

The trip didn't take long, and within a few hours, you were in the bustling city. Especially today, at the inaugural Heroes of Earth celebration event, Manhattan was almost chaotic.

With fans and journalists from all over the world filling the streets that had been closed off for a sort of open-air Comic Con, you had no trouble at all going unnoticed in the crowd. You wore a disguise, of course, but you didn't have to. A few minutes into the fair, you really did look like a tourist, with your Avengers sweatshirt, cap, and colorful glasses.

The knives in your backpack were well hidden under the amount of superhero souvenirs you got.

You were trying to choose between an Incredible Hulk smash-burger or a portion of Thor's worthy chicken when the bell announcing the photo session with the Avengers was about to start.

Your appetite disappeared, anxiety taking over your whole body at once.

It was time to move.

The queue was huge, as was to be expected. At least, most of them were there for the best-known Avengers. Thor wasn't even on Earth, which meant that the other five originals were competing with each other over who got the most autographs. The new members, like Wanda, the Falcon, or Vision, were given presentation stands but had much more free time at the event.

You tried to ignore the pang of pride when you saw that among the new members, the queue of people to see Wanda was the longest. A considerable number of children were very excited to ask her to do magic tricks.

Your strawberry milkshake - Black Widow's Special - almost fell out of your hand when you finally saw Wanda leave the curtains dividing the dressing rooms and join the autograph table.

She wasn't wearing the soft hoodie with the Avengers symbol from the photograph you sneak a peek at almost every night, nor was she wearing the pathetic disguise she wore the first time you saw her. No, somehow, she managed to look prettier. Like all her teammates, she was wearing an outfit similar to the official fighting uniform, probably designed just for the event. With a black tactical outfit covered by a red jacket, the gloves that didn't cover her fingers were probably your favorite part.

Despite her relatively unfriendly uniform, Wanda offered such lovely smiles to the people who came to greet her that you thought the milkshake made you sick, judging by the way your stomach and heart were unsettled.

When the Meet & Greets began, you had to go to the ticket booth and buy a single ticket in cash; to meet Wanda, of course.

It would take place back in the fair's improvised dressing rooms, and after waiting for almost forty minutes, you were finally guided inside. Your backpack wasn't searched, perhaps because your weapons were hidden by Ten Rings technology, a gift from Xu Xialing on your last assignment, and when it went through the X-ray at the entrance, all they detected were the countless fair toys you had acquired. And the knives hidden in your body, well, it's obvious to say that when it comes to changing aspects of your anatomy for any situation, passing a security search was quite easy.

"Miss Maximoff will be here in a minute. She had a little problem with her costume, the children who came in before you caused a little milkshake accident."

One of the organizers informed you, and you gave her a kind smile, commenting that the Black Widow special was essential, even if it might cause minor accidents. The employee chuckled before going to answer a call on her communicator that could have been your intentional flooding of one of the toilets to occupy as many of the staff as possible.

Wanda's dressing room was the most intimate environment of hers you've ever been in. It didn't have many things, of course, but for someone who only had access to government documents, it was paradise.

Curious fingers traced all the belongings you could reach, from more comfortable pieces of clothing for her to change into during the event, to different types of tea and books, until you found a music device.

The password protection on a Stark Industries MP3 player made you laugh to yourself. "What a distrustful little witch." You murmured affectionately, stowing the item in your jacket pocket and moving over to the schedule board.

You had already read the row that marked the start of the Meets, probably described there and in all the other dressing rooms, when your gaze caught a small notebook forgotten in one of the armchairs.

You got the chance to take it in hand and smile at the sketches on the first few pages before the item was suddenly lifted and pulled out of your hand.

"Sorry, but this is private." Wanda grabbed the item out of the air, but you stood there, static like a frightened animal, unable to breathe properly under her gaze. She seemed to realize that she had been too harsh and huffed out a laugh, the notebook clutched tightly against her chest. The sound made you swallow. "I shouldn't have kept you waiting, I guess you got bored. Sorry about that. Let me put this away, and we can, um, get started."

She didn't use magic to return the book to a safe place, you didn't know that yet, but Wanda was still learning to trust her powers. And if she could help it, she usually didn't use them.

She approached you, to put the book away in a bag that you didn't have a chance to peek into, and the sudden movement made your body react in alarm. Your back hit the schedule board, and Wanda frowned, stopping in her tracks with an almost hurt look on her face.

"You don't have to be scared. I'm not going to hurt you, you know." She murmured with the tips of her ears red. "I'm just going to put my notebook away, you see." The backpack floated towards her with a tug, and Wanda hardly met your gaze after that. She tossed the bag into a corner of the room and fiddled uncomfortably with the edge of her blouse.

She was no longer wearing the outfit she'd worn before, she was wearing a comfortable set, too soft and domestic for you to be calm-minded about anything.

You forced your brain to work because you thought the whole thing was getting ridiculous.

"I'm not scared." Your voice comes out very hoarse, so you clear your throat. Wanda raises her eyes, finally, and the green irises make your cheeks warm. You don't hide it from her. "As a matter of fact, I'm not the one who usually gets scared when we meet, am I, Maximoff?"

Taking the time she needed to understand, you removed your colored glasses and cap, your face changing back to its original appearance. Wanda sighed shakily as soon as she recognized you.

"Hi, Y/N." She greeted, too sweet for you to do anything but smile shyly, forgetting for a moment exactly what you had come for.

"Hello, Wanda." You tried to sound just as gentle, but you must have done a poor job, to blame it on your body that doesn't seem to be working properly. Wanda swallows dryly, her hands moving slowly in the air. You watch the unhurried gesture - the way her fingers draw the air, and how the items of disguise float away to the armchair, and in your hands appear handcuffs that don't prevent you from moving them, and don't hurt either. The most you feel is a tickle.

"I've come all this way, just for you to put me in chains, little witch." You try to tease her, and you think it's a victory the way Wanda tries to hide a smile, approaching with her head down until she's close enough to touch you.

Her hands should be gripping the magical handcuffs, but instead, they hold yours. Wanda sighs.

"You can't be here." She whispers, meeting your eyes, and you think it's ridiculous that you made any plans at all. You could never do anything to harm Wanda, and that was just the truth. "Then why are you?"

Unlike her, you don't hide your smile. You shrug as if your heart wasn't thumping in your chest, and revel in playing with Wanda's buttons.

"I was in the neighborhood. Wanted to say hi." Your casual reply makes her snort impatiently.

Her hands release yours, and you raise an eyebrow at Wanda's audacity to start searching you.

"Wow, take me on a date first, love." You joke, but despite the new color her cheeks acquire due to the joke, the fond nickname, Wanda doesn't stop. She gropes in your pockets, reaches into your jacket, and grimaces with disapproval at every illegal item she finds. The false documents, the Shield badge, the guns. The MP3 is in the front pocket and Wanda gets a little closer to reach it, enough so that you have to lick your lips trying to control the instinct to break the distance. She just looks so kissable and smells so good.

She offers you an incredulous look at the stolen item, which floats back to the table as she gropes for the other pocket. Finding the train ticket, she lets out a short laugh.

"Six hours of travel is not being in the neighborhood." She comments, raising her eyes to you.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort with a little smile, discourteously glancing between her eyes and her lips. "That I couldn't help myself and had to get on the first train to see you again? That I can't even go back to work because I can't stop thinking about you?"

There's this thing that Wanda's eyes do. The pupils get huge, and the green darkens. And she looks at you as if you were something to be devoured in every detail as if you were worth admiring. As if you were worth any of her time.

She speaks again, so low and hoarse that you wouldn't be able to hear her if you weren't close.

"Your thoughts are loud. Are you always so hard on yourself?"

You swallow dry, caught off guard. Your hesitation makes Wanda sigh. She looks ready to apologize when you nod.

"It doesn't matter, every time we bump into each other, you make me feel different. Better. You look at me as if you can see more. What do you see, Wanda?"

She sighs deeply, and her hands move to touch your face. It's too gentle, and affectionate in a real and true way that you never experience. Your body goes rigid, not knowing how to handle the tenderness, but Wanda doesn't catch any request for her to stop touching, so her hands continue to hold your cheeks.

"I can see your anger, just as I can see your fear. I see the thief, and the murderer, but I can also see only you. No disguises, no lies. The person you are underneath it all." She says, swallowing dryly as she lets her gaze fall to your lips. "This is the person I let get away. And the person I'd like to meet, if you'll let me."

Your chest is heavy with confusing feelings. Your traumas beep in unison, your defenses beg you to push Wanda away and flee before the rest of the Avengers decide to show up.

But instead, you return watery eyes to Wanda and gasp softly; "Why? Why do you care?"

And Wanda tries to lie. "I think you could use a friend."

You chuckle dryly, pulling away from the touch. "Hard pass." You mutter, but Wanda doesn't let you move away entirely. She decides to risk everything.

She grabs your chin and tilts your face towards her. It's a miscalculated kiss, you both flinch and gasp at the first contact of your lips and being taken by surprise makes you lose your balance in the middle of the movement to get away from her.

You fall into the armchair, and Wanda should apologize, but she doesn't even bother. She pushes your tense shoulders and straddles your lap, this time, when her mouth meets yours, it's much hungrier and more determined.

The handcuffs disappear into thin air with the first gasp that leaves her lips, and you waste no time in grabbing her waist, roughly pulling her down and holding her tight against you as your mouths move together. It's a passionate kiss full of urgency, charged with all the tension you've built up.

Your tongue slides into her mouth without warning, more experienced than Wanda, you manage to get a whimper out in no time. She wants to shrink away from the sound, but your hands slide down to grab her ass and pin her down onto your front, and suddenly all she can do is moan.

It seems absurd that you've gone a lifetime without kissing Wanda Maximoff when you both seem molded to do this with perfection.

You don't even move apart to breathe, a battle of restless hands and hungry mouths panting against each other. Wanda begins to grind herself into your lap in search of friction and you let out a sound you didn't know you could make.

Everything is suddenly so hot that Wanda doesn't hear her surroundings. She doesn't hear the curtain or the footsteps. But she definitely hears the machine man's surprised exclamation.

"Oh, forgive me, Wanda." Vision's back is turned the second he catches a glimpse of what's happening in that armchair.

Wanda jumps away as if she's received a jolt, and you groan in displeasure at the interruption. Despite the way every cell in your body seems to be vibrating with euphoria, you manage subtle changes in your face that prevent the Synthesized from recognizing you if he decides to turn around. "I didn't mean to interrupt-"

"Vis, please leave." She demands with ragged breathing, her face bright red. Wanda looks neither at you nor at Vision.

The man clears his throat, stuttering. "Of course, Wanda, I'm so sorry." He says, but although he mentions leaving, he doesn't. Stopping just before the curtain, he risks a glance over his shoulder. "There was a forced distraction with criminal indications in the western sector, the fair has already been interrupted. The captain has asked everyone to gather for a patrol check, in case there's an attempted attack. I just wanted to warn you. It would be appropriate to send your... friend away." explains the machine, exchanging a quick glance with Wanda before leaving the dressing room.

You'd like to kiss her again, but Wanda sniffles at Vision's departure and you frown in a mixture of concern and confusion.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" She deduces annoyed. "To try a bloody attack on a children's fair? God, I’m so stupid. You’re obviously using me to distract your partners-”

But you stood up with an impatient sigh for the anxious and nervous conclusions of an avenger who has been caught in the act.

You grab Wanda again and kiss her hard enough for her to lose her balance, and she ends up pressed against the schedule board, and then the coffee table, each kiss more desperate and heated than the last.

Your thigh presses between hers, and Wanda practically meows at the friction. You love how responsive she is to your touch, and you try to push a little further under her clothes, quickly addicted to attracting more sounds.

And you're almost to the edge of her bra when you're interrupted again.

"Jesus, Maximoff, what the hell is going on here?" Unlike Vision, Natasha Romanoff is much more serious and determined to put an end to the whole thing. And she cares little about what was happening against the table. You hide the change in your features on Wanda's shoulder, while also trying to control your own breathing, somehow much more aroused than before. "We're working, Maximoff. There may be terrorists on the perimeter and you're here, well, I'm not judging, I'm just saying there's an appropriate time for everything. I'm sure your friend will survive if you let go of her mouth for a few hours. Who knows, maybe next time you can meet in a more appropriate place?"

When you finally look at Nat, you can see that she's hiding a teasing little smile. You're glad that Wanda is making friends.

And unlike you, who doesn't mind having been caught not once but twice by the Avengers, Wanda looks like an embarrassed tomato who nods quickly while her magic does the work of adjusting your half-open clothes and leaving the objects you bump into in order again.

"Of course, Natasha, I'll send her away. I'm sorry." Wanda practically pushes you out, dragging you to a more secluded area at the back of the dressing rooms.

She tries unwillingly to resist your eager hands or the quick but intense kisses you steal from her on the way.

"You have to go." She struggles to gasp, her hands pushing your shoulders to stop the whole thing or she wouldn't be able to think.

Wanda with her hair disheveled after a proper make-out session, her face flushed and her lips swollen is too much for you.

"Fuck." You gasp and she swallows.

"What?"

You don't know what to say, nothing seems enough. She's awakened something in you that you didn't know existed. Suddenly, the idea of staying away from her seems an impossibility.

"When will I see you again?"

She frowns at the question, laughing nervously. "We shouldn't have seen each other even today."

But your hands pull her by the waist. "Nonsense. We should definitely do this again.” Your lips trail down her jaw, to the sensitive points on her neck that you're trying to memorize. She sighs, and struggles to keep her eyes open, but only for a moment before she pushes you away again, laughing shyly.

"Please, darling, I need to get back, my job-"

"There's no attempt attack, I flooded a toilet so I'd have time to see you." You clarify quickly and Wanda has to shake her head and laugh incredulously.

"You're nuts."

"Honestly? Yes. I think I've figured out what was wrong with me over the last weeks. You’re driving me nuts, Wanda Maximoff. I can't stop thinking about you." You retort quickly, not caring about the irregular beating of your pulse, nor the way she blushes heavily. "I need to know when I'm going to see you again."

She looks back into the dressing rooms and can see that Natasha is coming out through the curtain. She approaches you at once to give you one last intense kiss and whispers goodbye on your lips as you part.

With every inch of skin that Wanda touched vibrating and your heart pounding in your chest, you only remember to regulate your powers and return to a disguise a good few minutes after she has disappeared from sight, and hope that no security cameras saw you there.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #heart shaped series #wanda maximoff series #elizabeth olsen x reader

397 notes · View notes

slayfics · 3 days

Note

ive been thinking about a comfort story but instead of katsuki comforting the reader, she comforts him after a long day or struggling with something ❤️

You comfort Katsuki.

1k words

You prepared for an angry Katsuki to burst through the door any moment now. The new hero rankings had come out this afternoon and he had dropped rank, again.

It didn’t take much for you to imagine why. The week before the rankings Katsuki got rushed by reporters. Fresh out of a fight with a villain, adrenaline pumping, they spat out questions pushing for answers.

All the questions they knew would push The Great Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamite’s buttons.

“Dynamite, did you know it was the anniversary of the day you were attacked by the sludge villain?”

“Dynamite, how does it feel being behind Endeavor’s son in the hero charts?”

“Dynamite, can you make a statement about the damage you did to the city in your last fight?”

The list of draining questions went on, all captured on video, as Katsuki quickly lost his cool. Blurting out some colorful words for the reports to, not so politely fuck off.

You heard the keys in the latch and braced yourself for the sight of the angry blond. Yet, such a sight never came, instead, you met with a sight that was much more concerning.

Slumped shoulders, flat affect, vacant gaze. Katsuki sat on the couch silently working at taking off his boots. Not a word spoken to you. No sign of anger.

“Hey,” you greeted, testing the waters with him.

“Hey,” he mumbled without looking up as he tossed his boots aside. Head leaned back against the couch he closed his eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" you asked softly.

Katsuki inhaled sharply and shook his head no without opening his eyes. It was unusual to see him so defeated. Typical fiery ambition completely extinguished, lacking the energy to even be upset, he just sat.

You knew all too well how to extinguish the burning rage inside him, but this? This was new ground.

Your momentary paralysis gave Katsuki exactly what he needed. Space and quiet to just be. Slowly he opened up.

"You think it's because of how I responded to those damn reporters?" He asked.

"Possibly," you hummed. "You're human though Katsuki, all those pestering questions would have got under anyone's skin.

"Yeah but," he sighed before continuing. "You saw all the articles and viral edits. They didn't show the whole video, just the part of me losing my shit. A big majority of people think I blew up at some civilian reporters for no fucking reason," Katsuki huffed. "I don't give a damn about that though; people can think whatever the fuck they want... I'm I don't know," Katsuki paused and you gave him the air to finish processing his thought. "I'm fucking disappointed. All that damn therapy I went through- to still get so pissed at some dumb reporters, I should be way past that now. I'm still losing my temper like a goddamn child," he groaned, the displeasure in his voice weighing heavy.

"Katsuki," you cooed and moved closer to him bringing him into an embrace. Katsuki didn't fight you he welcomed your affection, finding solace from leaning into you. Head resting on your chest you combed your fingers through his hair. "Success isn't linear, and one mistake doesn't erase everything you've accomplished and worked for. It's a minor setback. It's tough but, it's nothing you can't come back on top of," you comforted him squeezing him with one arm and messaging his scalp with the other. Katsuki hummed into your chest taking in your words. You always knew what to say.

"I just fucking hate that I gave those reporters exactly what they wanted. They wanted me to blow up, gives them a good damn news story. Fucking vultures," he scowled.

"Mhm," you nodded. "You did, and you can't change that, but you can change how you're going to react moving forward because we know they aren't going to stop. Especially now that they've seen the effect they've had," you spoke problem-solving with him.

"Tch- yeah. I don't know what the fuck to do though. Walking away has been my go-to when I feel myself about to explode, but- in situations like that I'm rushed and cornered. Can't let out an explosion to fly away either because I'll hurt the fuckers. What's worse is I'm still workin' and trying to get back to the cops and agency to report what the fuck happened with the villain," he replied.

"Maybe you could say that... I'm working please move... or I'm working and cannot accept questions...," You suggested.

"Ha- I don't know about the please but... that's not such a bad idea... I'm goddamn working can't talk idiots," Katsuki huffed then relaxed more into your chest.

You giggled, "That does sound more authentic to Dynamite."

Katsuki nuzzled into your chest, his breaths becoming deeper, and the tension in his shoulders he had been carrying around all day finally easing up. "I shoulda called you right when I found out," he murmured.

"You know I'm always here whenever you're ready to talk... about anything," you answered. "I'm sorry I didn't call right away... sometimes I'm not sure when you need your space to process."

"You ain't got to apologize... I know my temperament isn't the easiest to read," he noted.

"I wouldn't have you any other way," you teased, pulling him up to press a kiss on his nose.

Katsuki clicked his tongue, "Cut that cheesy crap out," he complained the tips of his ears burning hot. "Besides, I still got dirt and shit all over me."

"I don't care," you remarked, giving him another kiss on his cheek.

Katsuki shifted in one swift motion pinning you down on the couch, "I said cut it out brat," he smirked, taking in the sight of you beneath him. "Why don't you come get cleaned up with me instead," he offered.

An offer you happily accepted.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69

272 notes · View notes

btsmosphere · 1 month

Text

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 1: the Light Dies

masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 6.6k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, it’s sorta like a mafia au but they have superpowers lmao 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, minor character death, attempted murder, injury, loss of consciousness

a/n: I have to say thank you to @casuallyimagining and @bluewhale52 for betaing this chapter, although this might come as a surprise to them since that was maybe 3 years ago now?😅I'm really not sure how much my writing had changed since then, but you guys can be the judge of that as the future chapters unfold! In the meantime, enjoy! If you want more supercharged in your life, you can also search my supercharged tag to find some musings, rambling, gifsets and visuals etc that inspired me and kept me going while I lost my mind over this story!

Lastly, I present the supercharged playlist✨ I had a lot of fun making this – several songs align with plot events, while some of them are there for the title, the vibe, or even a single line! Feel free to guess which are which or come and chat with me about it👀

An ear-splitting roar was barely contained behind shuddering steel doors. Just down the corridor, your fingers still clicked away, unperturbed, at your keyboard.

Tapping your foot, you looked impatiently up at the clock as another thunderous bellow assaulted the air. If the full-length windows weren’t reinforced by your boss, Kuyang’s own design, they would be rattling in their frames.

Blowing to rid your face of a strand of hair, you returned to your work, not even sparing a glance towards the source of the racket. It was only around half an hour until you could leave work for the weekend.

Finishing your task, you turned to filing the correspondence on your desk as a few yells carried through the air, mingled with the monster’s uproar. Bills and business deals the lot of them, you tucked them away in their respective places to be dealt with next week – only to stop on the very last one. How many times had the postman ignored the very clear sign for no newspapers?

You supposed the city felt the need to remind everyone that there was some semblance of central control – not really of much concern in a workplace such as yours, mind. Glancing across the front page, you realised why. You didn’t have a tv at home, but you would have to live under a rock not to recognise your city’s most celebrated superhero. Bolt, the media’s beloved, had claimed another victory against some crazy start-up trying to build their own bombs downtown.

The hero’s blue-masked face grinned confidently up at you from the desk, while police led what looked to be two scruffy teenagers into the back of their van. But Bolt’s vivid presence eclipsed them in his suit that matched his bright eyes.

Not bothering to read further, you pushed the paper into the waste bin at the end of the table.

Just as you were tucking away the final bits of paper, your boss emerged, wiping his brow on a cloth that looked as dirty as his face. Smiling pleasantly despite his ruffled state, you rotated on your chair to face him.

“Frank’s all good and sleepy now,” he said, “if you could get him sent up to the chamber.”

“Sure,” you nodded, already getting up and straightening your jacket.

With nothing more than a weary nod of appreciation, he left for his private laboratory. This was through a series more armoured doors, to which only you and a small number of lab workers knew the codes.

He was a scientist. And you were sure he was unhinged, but the job paid well, so that was all you concerned yourself with.

In fact, you had got very lucky. You had been surprised when such a good position had become available and quickly given to someone as ill-qualified as you, with no references to give. But your lack of connections seemed of no concern, and here you were, finally making ends meet and no longer in fear of being turned out of your run-down apartment at the edge of town.

So you did your job as well as you could, worrying yourself over nothing except pleasing the odd man that was Kuyang.

Even so, it was still a little daunting each time you had to come face-to-face with one of his experiments.

Reaching the steel doors that had not long ago been seriously threatening their hinges, you took a breath. Holding your thumb over a scanner by the door, you plastered a confident smile on your face as you walked inside.

Affectionately dubbed ‘Frank’, a great lump of teeth and dark furry flesh several times bigger than you was sleeping in a pod at the centre of the room. Surrounding this were multitudes of screens showing graphs and readings you couldn’t hope to understand.

At the edges of the room, a smattering of other workers were slumped against the stainless steel lab walls, almost as rumpled as their boss had been.

A hulking guard, Taeyeon, stood near the entrance, and you quietly confirmed with her that Frank was under and secure. Nodding, you gestured to Taeyeon’s team, another man and woman with the same uniform and intimidating stature.

Together, you assembled in front of the tank that held Frank, Taeyeon typing authorisation into one of the computers. The others locked down the external doors, just in case.

Though it was a familiar sight by now, the opening of the pod always prompted you to run through your training. If you hadn’t read it in the documents you dealt with, you would not have known Frank was also known as Necrus X, a new prototype Kuyang was working on, although you could not imagine what for.

Kuyang had been sure to tell you how to knock out the creature if it ever came to it, though. There was a spot behind his ear, which was more of a ridge at the side of his enormous head.

With the pod open, a panel rose from the floor, taking Frank rotating upwards. You caught sight of the patch behind its ear, zeroing in on it. Just in case.

The smooth expanse of ceiling split then, a hole revealing itself as the roof shrunk away into the walls, leaving a clear path for Frank to rise to the next floor, where he was stored.

As effortlessly as the ceiling retreating, a smooth steel staircase emerged from the walls. You and Taeyeon climbed it, spiralling around the edges of the circular space until you drew level with Frank, now snoring on the upper floor. Here, the space was wide open like an empty art gallery, half the walls comprised of expansive windows, no lab equipment to be seen.

The floor closed up beneath you both and you walked around Frank, opening a secret panel in the wall. As before, you raised your thumb to a blank scanner – but got no further.

A deafening smash sent you crouching to the ground in panic. Livid blue painted all the walls in the space as shattered glass skidded across the floor.

You had thought that glass to be unbreakable. At least that was the intention. But when you turned, you were forced to believe your ears: the central panel of glass was completely blown in, all the others down the row cracked from the force.

At the same moment the glass had shattered, you could suddenly hear what before had been hidden behind soundproofing. Outside, there were shouts, screams, car horns and alarms blaring from every angle – and above all, sirens. Sirens wailing through the air like disembodied banshees, descending, apparently, on your building.

Shuffling along the floor, you peered past the sleeping mass that was Frank in front of you. Walking across the room was a man in a tight blue suit, the same hue crackling in the air around his hands.

Bolt.

Mind short-circuiting, you were frozen. What should you do?

What was Bolt doing here? Was there some kind of threat? The image of him should have brought you relief, even though you knew nothing of what the danger was, but you hesitated.

Only having the presence of mind to shrink back silently behind Frank, you looked between the beast and the control panel you had abandoned. But you had no more chance to move before a fearsome crack ripped through the air, another flash of blue, sending the hairs on your arms bolting upright.

Spinning back to face Frank, you were met with a thump. A body, falling onto the floor.

Though she was mostly obscured by Frank’s sleeping form, you stared in unbelieving horror at Taeyeon where she lay, unmoving. Breath accelerating in your throat, you moved at last, scooting yourself back and away. Closer to the wall.

First you lunged to sound the alarm, mounted inside the wall panel, which instantly lit the room up in throbbing red, blaring loud enough to drown out the sirens outside. Then your hand was fumbling across the scanner. You had to get Frank locked away.

The walls of the pod which safely contained Frank overnight began to descend, much too slowly for your liking. Whirling to face the room, your heart seized in your chest when the imposing figure of Bolt, now shaded purple by the red light, met your eyes.

A glance up at the descending walls. They were halfway to the ground by now, but you still had to enter the code to lock them down.

Bolt yelled for you to stop, barely audible over the dizzying noise of the warning siren.

As he strode towards you, you could only watch, pressing yourself desperately against the wall as if it could swallow you up.

Bright light cut through the imposing red as the heavy door at the opposite end of the room was thrown open. Bolt stopped, both of you turning to see Kuyang enter. His hair was still sticking up from earlier, a strange expression on his face that you hadn’t seen before.

Paying no mind to the maniacal smile that had no place on Kuyang’s face, you took the moment of distraction to scramble for the code lock.

Without a sound, the gap between the floor and Frank’s pod closed, and your fingers were already leaping to action, typing the numbers behind your back at lightning speed.

Kuyang was running now, a direct path towards Bolt. But Bolt turned back towards you.

You were nearly done, but his hand was raising towards you…

In a split second, your fingertip met the final key of the code. Almost instantly, it was ripped away as shocking blue light cut through the air. You felt the impact before you could even notice that it was aimed at you.

Hitting you square in the chest, white hot pain scorched through your every nerve as your body was flung backwards, powerless as a ragdoll sailing through the air. The collision with the cracked window behind was almost lost on you. More intense pain was writhing its way down each limb, making you cry out, uncaring about the rain-spattered wind that whipped about your face now.

But you could see shards of glass as they fell along with you, like daggers aimed at the ground.

Biting wind rushed in your ears, the sound crashing over you like waves. And just as a pan sizzles down off the heat, the ferocious attack of pain seemed to reduce just as fast as it had invaded you.

Your heartbeat was the loudest thing, booming over the insistent web of sirens and whistling air.

Breathing choppily, you screwed your eyes nearly closed, suddenly aware of the tempest around you as you fell. Above, the already darkening winter night was illuminated with flashes of that awful blue.

You were falling.

It hit you then, as if you hadn’t been falling all this time. But it was only now that your senses caught up with themselves. You worked on a very high floor of the skyscraper, but as you were tossed around in the air, you saw the ground rapidly approaching.

A horror gripped your chest like nothing you had ever felt before.

Below you, and rushing towards you at terrifying speed, a skip sat surrounded by heaps of trash on the street. Unable to think, you could only shield your face with your hands, stretched out in front of you as if to stop the inevitable collision.

Though your eyes fell closed, you felt the jerk that flung your whole body backwards.

That wasn’t what you had expected.

Eyes snapping open in confusion, you found your vision lit with blue. In front of your face, blue light was shooting from your palms, pushing you up and away from the ground.

Your mouth fell open. Gaping in shock, you did nothing as the light died and you slowed again in the air.

Though you began falling much slower this time, you barely had time to notice your surroundings – much nearer the ground – before you were plummeting again, and this time nothing could stop you.

Your eyes weren’t even open when you felt your body slide off something. Not a second later, you were crumpling onto hard concrete which grazed your cheek.

You groaned.

It was dark. High above, any flashes of light didn’t reach you here, having landed in a thin alley beside the building. And though this shielded you from the commotion on the main streets out front, sirens still pierced the air, each one feeling like a stab to your head.

You clutched it as you maneuvered to sit. It took you a few tries, groping for a wall or something to lean against as you regained your balance.

Eyes cracking open, you waited patiently for the dark splotches to dispel before looking around.

Right next to you was a car which blocked you from view of the road beyond this alley. Evident from the dent that caved in its bonnet, that was what you had landed on.

Turning your head, you had to squint even more as light assaulted your sensitive eyes.

Among a blazing light, you could make out the vague shapes of rubbish bags and an overflowing skip that you recognised. Out of these, a vibrant fire was now burning. The correlation was too strong for you to ignore.

Breath shallow, you turned your horrified gaze to your hands.

They had done this… but how? They looked totally normal now.

Frowning, you brought them up closer to your face, so that your nose was practically buried in your palms.

No difference.

You were sure you hadn’t imagined that blue light which saved you earlier. Was there a way to make it come back?

While you were puzzling, you lowered your hands again, still staring intently as you rotated them in your lap.

Then, quick as a blink, a blue flash darted from them again. So fast, in fact, that you had no time to react before one of the bolts was fired directly into your opposite arm.

Snatching it away reflexively, you hissed in pain as a burning sensation crawled, tingling, over your skin there.

Despite the pain, the blue light didn't cease shooting from your hands. They tingled, a strangely uncomfortable sensation. It was as if something warm was wriggling its way up your veins and spilling from your fingertips.

“Stop! Stop!” you whispered in panic.

You turned them outwards, aiming away from you, but if they kept at it for much longer you were sure to draw attention.

Moving your hands around jerkily, the beams of light shook along with you, but did not go out. With each unsuccessful movement, panic made you more frantic until the glowing rays jerked erratically around the small space.

Straying too far, the light came into contact with a post at the alley’s entrance. You could only watch, helpless, as light like blue snakes skittered up it and latched around the wires it supported.

To your relief, the strange current seemed to have found an outlet, and only remained a second longer before cutting out. You were left blinking in the relative darkness. Panting heavily, you stared down at your hands, although you did not bring them too close anymore.

Once again, they appeared utterly innocent. There was nothing to suggest they had just channelled lightning through them.

Suddenly, the world plunged into darkness. The fire still burned at the other end of the alley, or you would have been left totally blind. In the building behind you, in the street, all the lights had gone out.

Almost instantly following the blackout, screaming rose again in the air.

Gulping, your eyes travelled to the blackened post at the corner, which you had accidentally electrocuted.

This was bad. Your head was spinning, both from your short, hard fall and from the whirlwind of events that had happened in what could only have been minutes. Surrounded by darkness, with the wail of the city and a fire for company, you could only see one course of action.

Run.

You had to get away from here. It wasn’t safe. You had little idea where was safe, but you couldn’t be here anymore.

It wasn’t like you had anyone to call who would care enough to come and pick you up. Nor did you have the money to try a hospital, though you felt as if you may need it.

But especially with electricity shooting from your hands at the drop of a hat, it probably wasn’t best to be anywhere around people.

The dizziness from your unfortunate landing on the car had worn off while you were sitting, but the world swayed anew the moment you made to stand. Pushing determinedly against the wall, you struggled on anyway, brand new dark spots in your vision offset by the brightness of the fire you walked towards.

This end of the alleyway led out through smaller streets, away from the city centre and furore of sirens.

On reaching the opening, you cautiously assessed the road stretching away either side. Empty. And if there was anyone there, they wouldn’t see you in this darkness.

Shoving your hands beneath your armpits on some misguided hope of keeping them from causing problems, you lowered your head and ran. It was more of a jog, considering everything, but you still moved as quickly as you could beneath the dead streetlamps.

Head throbbing more with movement, you stumbled a few times as you went. The pavement tilted around you.

You had made it a few roads before you felt that awful tingling in your arms again. It itched, like something fighting its way out of your skin.

Nausea rolled in the pit of your stomach. This couldn’t be real.

Slowing down and stopping beneath a signpost, you drew your shaking hands out in front of you. The world careened on its axis, revolving around the sight of your palms as a faint blue glow grew in them.

You were going to throw up, you were sure of it.

You wanted it to stop.

A few flickers of blue darted down the veins in your wrist. Towards your fingertips. Sparks leapt from them, small tendrils of lightning crackling between your fingers like webbing.

At last, you gave in to the rising horror mixed with a sick feeling. The floor’s spinning became too much, your hands turning to a bright blur in the centre of your vision.

You passed out on the spot.

Lights were turning on again around the city. Television sets flickering back to life to announce Bolt’s victory against the beast that had attacked earlier that evening.

But not on the street where you still lay.

The return of light only reached neighbouring roads, dim glow snuffed out before it could penetrate the middle of this street. A white-haired young man stepped forwards, but his face was totally obscured in darkness.

“Here,” he spoke to the silence.

The next moment, a deep red glowed in the middle of the road, though it brought little light. The red bounced off a signpost before it was gone, replaced by another man, seemingly from nowhere.

The newest arrival stood there, looking down at your figure, unconscious by the sign. Then he disappeared again, leaving total darkness behind as if he had never been there at all.

A few more moments passed, you and the hidden man the only beings on the dark road.

Not very long after, a car’s engine rumbled and sputtered into earshot. The bright beam of headlights rounded the corner, growing larger and shedding light on your form as it drew closer.

Pulling up next to you, the engine died along with the lights. Two doors opened and slammed shut.

As two pairs of feet stepped nearer to join the one remaining beside you, the streetlamp directly overhead began to glow. The faint glimmer grew until it illuminated the scene. Still no other lights joined it, leaving the small group of you lit up as if by spotlight.

“It’s her?”

The man crouching beside you asked the question without looking up, and the shadowed man answered.

“Pretty sure.”

“She’s breathing?”

“Yes.”

The crouching man hummed. Moving to kneel instead, his eyes roved over your somewhat battered face, dark hair obscuring his own.

“Namjoon?” he asked then, turning to the other man from the car. It was the same man who had momentarily appeared in the street earlier.

Taking his cue, the tall man, Namjoon, walked forwards and bent to lift your hands by the wrists. In just moments he was placing them carefully back, nodding.

“No doubt.”

“Okay then.”

“Can she travel, Jin?”

“Give me a moment.”

Producing a small object, he pressed a button and a small light sprung from the end. Carefully lifting one of your eyelids, he shone the light into it, observing like a doctor.

The first you became aware of was the far away sound of voices being quietly exchanged. But with the cloudiness in your head, identifying them didn’t seem very urgent. You were preoccupied with the swirling feeling that made the world swim around you, even though it was dark.

But as dim awareness was returning to you, the process of regaining your senses was violently accelerated as a blinding light was thrust into your vision.

You flinched, and as Jin pulled away he saw you blink, eyelids screwing shut in protest. His eyebrows raised in slight concern as he watched your first groggy movements.

Blinking around at the dimly lit figures over you, your eyes widened. The nearest man held the illuminated light stick. Was he a doctor?

Next, your eyes darted to the tall man standing behind him. You recognised neither.

Some strange feeling told you someone else was standing there too, but when you looked to your other side you were faced with nothing but empty shadow.

“Can you sit?”

The first man’s question was gentle, his hands ready to support you.

Nodding timidly, you heaved yourself up with his help. It embarrassed you to be panting after just that much movement.

“What happened?” came the next question.

As you replayed the events, you avoided their eyes. You could not let them know what happened, what you had become. They were helping you, and yet you might hurt them-

Fists clenching subconsciously, you stuttered in panic.

“I-I can’t pay,” you told them, but before you could say more a new voice was speaking. The standing man stepped forwards, his voice calm and surprisingly friendly.

“There’s no need to pay. We can help you. Can you tell us what happened?”

“I don’t, uh, I-I-“

His eyes travelled towards your hands, which you were trying to tuck behind you.

“You gained powers, didn’t you?”

You froze.

“I have them too,” he smiled, “I know what it’s like to be scared. But you can work with this and learn to control them. I’m Namjoon, and this is Jin. We’ve been through this before, we can help you.”

At your sides, your hands relaxed. Tension lifted from your tightly hunched shoulders. Wordless, you looked between the men who were watching you, ready to move, but only on your word.

Swallowing, a light frown creased your brow.

“What do you want-”

Namjoon’s smile dimmed into something kinder.

“At least let us check you over.”

Your hands fretted together. It was strange, you couldn’t feel anything there. Surely they should feel different? How would you know if these… powers, Namjoon had said, were to come back?

“You won’t hurt us, don’t worry,” he seemed to anticipate your thoughts as he watched you, “we can protect ourselves.”

“You were unconscious,” Jin spoke, drawing your perplexed gaze back to him, “did you hit your head?”

You blinked, but found yourself answering.

“I think so.”

Nodding, Jin shuffled at your side. He leaned a bit closer.

“I need to shine this light in your eyes again. You may have a concussion.”

Complying, you sat through the eye-watering brightness. He asked you things, like a doctor would, except he was working in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night.

“Do you feel dizzy?”

“I did. I think still, a little.”

“Any nausea?”

“Yeah… but maybe because of the…” you gestured to your hands.

Jin sat back, taking the light with him. Namjoon shot you a sympathetic smile at that. You supposed he had been through the same thing, from the sounds of it.

Jin looked up at Namjoon.

“It looks pretty rough. Definitely a concussion, and she needs patching up, but in the long run she’ll be fine.”

“I-I’m serious,” you interjected, “I don’t have the money for hospital…”

Your voice faltered. You half thought of asking to just go home, but you were hardly sure of even making it there by yourself. And if you got there, then what? The prospect of burning down the place with these errant powers didn’t fill you with comfort.

“Good thing we’re not going to bring you there, then,” Namjoon said, “but I meant it when I said we could help. We can take you home, if you want… but you can stay with us, too.”

You stared at him wordlessly. Was it crazy that you were considering this?

“Just for a bit, if you need,” Jin added softly, “it’s just… now might not be the smartest time to be alone.”

You chewed your cheek. But your head was pounding too much to think very hard, and this seemed like the most straightforward option. The people in this city kept surprising you, after your first stroke of luck with Kuyang's generosity.

“Sure…” you spoke quietly, not quite able to look them in the eyes, “yes please.”

“Okay,” Namjoon took it in stride, “but let’s get moving.”

“Just one moment – we should wrap that.”

Gesturing towards your arm, Jin stood and went back to the car. On his return, he knelt again and began to secure cling film around the angry red blotch blistering your skin, where you had caught yourself with your own beam.

“We’ll sort it out properly when we get back,” he told you, “but Namjoon’s right, we should be going.”

You followed his gaze which seemed to dart up and down the street. However, nothing was there.

Jin helped you stand, still looking around. Sure enough, the dizziness from before hadn’t quite left you yet. Biting down on your lip, you focussed hard on getting the short distance to the car. You were led to the passenger seat and crumpled gratefully into it.

But just as Jin closed the door, you felt an uncomfortable prickling clutch your forearms again. Namjoon slid into the back seat in time to hear your gasp, noticing the way your fingers flexed in panic. Digging in his pockets, he produced a pair of thin black gloves and held them out to you just as the first trickles of blue appeared in your veins again. He watched with a studious frown as you pushed your hands into the gloves.

“Those will help,” he said, still looking at your wrists, “they can contain the powers. But you shouldn’t keep them on for too long.”

Jin was seating himself in the driver’s side as you frowned over at Namjoon. At first you had been relieved to have a solution to your erratic lightning problem, but that was ripped away at his last addition.

“Why not? It will keep you safe,” you questioned, but kept your voice quiet.

“Don’t worry, we’re more than capable of handling anything you could throw at us,” he laughed, “but you can keep them on in here. Best not to bottle up your powers forever, though.”

Resigned, you turned back to face front. The moment Jin stepped on the gas, all the lights in the road sparked to life at once. Startled, you blinked, looking around. On the pavement you were just pulling away from, a man was walking away, unidentifiable behind a hoodie.

Slumping back in your seat, you breathed a short, dry laugh. This mysterious happening was just the latest in this crazy night. You had no choice but to accept it.

The car ride was fairly short, but you were too tired and distracted to take in exactly where you were going. Streets seemed to blur together, aware only that you were heading out of town.

The itching in your arms had persisted for a while, but as promised, the gloves seemed to work. No fiery blue burst out of your palms, and, eventually, whatever it was decided to give it up, subsiding again by the time the car pulled up.

But no one got out yet. Jin had stopped at the end of a small road, big enough for only one vehicle, directly facing an expanse of crumbling and graffitied brick.

Curiosity woke you up from your daze, and you watched as Jin reached to tap something on his dashboard. Almost instantly, a groaning reached your ears from over the whirring of the engine. The wall ahead shook before shifting, sliding sideways until it tucked itself behind a dented dustbin, unveiling a space beyond.

Leaving you little more time to wonder, Jin started the car again and you rolled downwards through a plain, dark entrance. It reminded you of those multi-storey car parks formed with ugly blocks of concrete. It was considerably smaller than those, however, Jin pullingup into a space alongside about a dozen other vehicles, beyond which the place seemed entirely deserted.

Jin came around to open your door, but you were able to stand by yourself. It was still a bit of a struggle, your limbs sluggish and the world dull around you – although that may have just been the low underground light.

Namjoon led you, Jin staying close by your side. Blinking at the space as you moved through it, your eyes traced over the various car roofs, some cleaner than others. A larger four-by-four was particularly beaten up, with a large crease in one of the metal wheel arches.

Your eyes rested longest on what was probably the most pristine: a motorbike, at first hidden by the cars either side of it.

Soon enough, you were past them. Stopping as Namjoon did, you watched him expectantly. However, he did not turn around, instead standing face-to-face with a plain concrete wall. Except… now a low rumble announced the movement of a panel which slid away, revealing a wide doorway which had previously blended seamlessly with the flat wall.

Your eyebrows raised at the touch that was reminiscent of Kuyang’s lab. Without time for you to dwell on this, your small group moved up a dingy staircase that lay beyond the doorway.

At the top, you emerged into a new space, notably lighter than before. You assumed you were back on ground level, perhaps above. It was hard to be sure, disoriented as you still were in the whirlwind that had overtaken your day.

Bizarrely, the space appeared to be someone’s home. There was a large and coffee-stained table surrounded by mismatching chairs, a kitchen behind it littered with mugs and pot plants. Still, beyond the lived-in array of things lying around, it was big. You imagined it must be miles more expensive than the shoddy apartment you stayed in.

It was open plan, and you followed Namjoon past the dining table towards an area filled with two enormous sofas.

The back of a blond head was visible over the sofa, and now the person turned towards you.

“Guys!” a loud exclamation rang out as he leapt up. A dazzling smile spread across his mouth.

When his eyes fell on you, wincing at his sudden volume, the smile dimmed a little.

“Not so loud, Hope-ah,” Jin spoke gently from behind you.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head, smile remaining on his lips.

Jin’s hands came lightly to your back, steering you over to a sofa. As you sunk into it with relief, the blond man sat across from you, tilting his head to catch your eye.

“I’m Hope,” he smiled, “I’m glad we found you. You’ll be right in no time!”

Frowning, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicking over the damage on your face. Averting your gaze, you chewed your lip absently.

What did he mean? I’m glad we found you…

Had they been looking for you? You still weren’t sure if it was a lucky coincidence they found you, but perhaps it was something more.

The lingering ache in your head forced you to push the issue away. You missed Namjoon’s stern look at Hoseok as he hovered behind your seat.

Jin pulled a pack from a cupboard and set it beside you. You let him lift your arm and unwrap the burn, your unfocussed eyes dragging across the room while he applied something cold over it. Next came stinging, scattered over your face as he wiped at the small cuts and grazes with an apologetic grimace you barely saw.

You only forced the world back into focus when someone else entered your sight. Emerging from behind you, a gentle, friendly smile was directed your way from a man with pale pink hair. Swallowing, you never managed to smile back before he was turning away.

The pink-haired man reached a hand out to someone you couldn’t see. Another man appeared, walking towards him, but he never looked at you. Or if he did, it was obscured behind the black hair that fell to his eyes.

The two new people left towards the kitchen, though not without another smile from the pink one.

Who were all these people?

Frowning after them, you were interrupted by a clap on the shoulder from Jin.

“We’ll talk more in the morning. You need to rest.”

Looking around, you had half a mind to protest, but were overruled by the shakiness taking over your frame. Body too fatigued to allow you much say, you meekly followed Jin.

Beyond the living space, a thinner corridor led away, several closed doors along its walls.

Further you went, until a door just ahead opened. Another person walked out.

When he stopped to face you, his posture remained stiff. Tall and muscular, he was clad all in black except for a towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair fell messily around his head. But you had little time to take this in, as his eyes fixed themselves fiercely on yours, rendering you unable to look away.

Mouth remaining in a hard line, his expression only twitched further into a frown.

Then his gaze flicked abruptly away, travelling to Jin just beyond you.

“Kook-“

Jin never got further than that before the man strode forwards, marching sharply past you and away with a scowl. Turning after him in surprise, you watched his tense shoulders disappear behind Namjoon, who you hadn’t noticed hovering.

Namjoon stared sternly after him, but the man seemed to avoid his gaze.

Jin sighed, sending an apologetic glance at you.

“That’s just Jungkook,” Namjoon spoke, ushering you all further along the hallway, “don’t pay him any attention.”

“Why was…”

You trailed off, unsure of what exactly to ask. Neither of them made an attempt to answer.

You had no idea a wordless encounter could leech so much hostility into the atmosphere. Picturing Jungkook’s glowering face, you blindly followed the others through a different door.

“You can sleep in here.”

“Hm?”

Shaking yourself, you looked around the new room. There wasn’t much to see. Beside a low bed, there was a mirror, a wooden closet and nothing more. Looking up, you didn’t even find a light in the ceiling. The only light leaked through from the hallway.

Clearly reading your gaping mouth and furrowing brow, Namjoon moved in front of you.

“Don’t worry, this is just a place to sleep, nothing more. But since you’re going to have to take those gloves off, we can’t have you in a space with any electricals.”

Stepping back defensively, your fingers pressed tightly together. Having the gloves on had let you almost imagine that nothing life-changing had happened. Like gaining unpredictable powers, for instance.

Namjoon watched patiently, holding out a hand.

“You don’t need them…”

He realised he had never asked your name, and let his sentence trail expectantly. Telling him your name, he relaxed into a smile.

“You don’t need them, Y/N,” he repeated, not that you believed him for a second, “you’ll be perfectly safe. And so will we.”

Only the yearning to collapse onto the bed persuaded you to hand over the gloves. The instant they were in his hand, you swore you could feel a shock go up your arm. Immediately tense again, your breathing became shallower, with no idea how to try and stop power shooting from your hands any moment.

But Namjoon and Jin seemed content. Before you could gather your thoughts, they had left, closing the door and drenching your room in near total darkness.

Stumbling to the bed and virtually falling into it, you wiped sweating palms against the fabric. Your mouth was dry with fear.

This couldn’t have happened.

Alone for the first time since your initial panic, it didn’t take long for your mind to wrap itself in circles again. Only hours ago, you had been sitting happily in your bright office, going through the motions…

One split-second decision from a powerful man had changed that.

You knew full well he had intended for you to die. But he was Bolt...

He had probably forgotten about it already. The guard he sent lifeless to the floor, the secretary he threw from the building.

Itching feeling returning, you swallowed desperately and raised your hands. Sure enough, against the darkness, blue pierced your vision, darting its way up-

Turning your face away, you flinched as the outburst came. Your eyes screwed shut, you pressed your cheek into fabric, not wanting to see the deathly lightning that shot through the room. Shuddering breaths broke into your lungs when at last it subsided.

Letting them fall, limp, to your sides, your hands fisted the covers tightly.

You were almost afraid to open your eyes, knowing it would only show you the empty room, confirmation that this was real. You were dangerous, shut in a safe room where you could hurt no one. Would you ever get out? Succeed in controlling this, like Namjoon had said?

With no idea where you were, barely any idea who the people here were, you wanted to block it out. But even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t escape.

The memory of Jungkook’s suspicious face made your heart sink. Perhaps people should be afraid of you, now. As much as you may want to, there was no getting away from this.

Pushing yourself to sit, you surveyed the room. Eyes accustomed to the blackness a little more, you could make out vague shapes. Your breath fell alone in the silence. This really was the safest place you could be right now, even if it was a nightmare.

As your head turned, you suddenly came level with your eyes in the mirror, and a shock of light.

For an extended moment, you could only stare.

Then all at once you were rushing forwards, tripping from the end of the bed. Bracing your arms against the wall either side of the mirror, you gaped at your reflection.

As you watched, an angular bolt of blue shot across your irises, which were already dimly glowing.

You gulped against the thick feeling crawling up your throat. Faced with this, you could no longer have any hope of denying it.

This was really happening.

Thank you for reading!! Please please let me know your thoughts on this chapter, comments make it all worthwhile!💜💜

masterlist | next>

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities @parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack @oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

Let me know in a comment or ask if you would like to join the taglist🥰

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook mafia #jungkook scenario #bts mafia au #jungkook supervillain #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #bts series #jungkook series #superhero bts #supervillain bts

242 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 9 months

Text

Hobie takes you web swinging around the city

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Synopsis: Hobie has a little surprise for you after a hard day's work.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (reader is mentioned to wear jeans though) food mention, established relationship, Lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF

A/N: Have a fic in celebration of atsv finally releasing on digital! (we can finally see Hobie in HD ❤️) I actually hc Hobie's dimension not having phones yet, but for this fic let's just pretend lol.

My Masterlist

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

You just got out of class, exhausted, you take off your lab coat, too tired to hang it properly, tossing it haphazardly inside your locker, the metal door closes loudly, rattling your tired bones. Thumping your head on the cold door, you sigh loudly, your stomach growling from hunger.

You can't wait to go home, and finally relax.

Grabbing your phone from your back pocket, you text Hobie– home in a bit, you done with your patrols?

You grab your backpack off the floor, walking towards the university's elevators, your eyes glued on your phone, waiting for his reply. Stepping inside, you listen to the hum of electricity, watching the three little dots appear on your phone.

As soon as the circles appeared, they disappeared from your screen. Guess he's not done yet. That's fine, as long as he comes home in one piece, and back in your arms, it'll be okay.

Putting your phone in your backpack, you step off the elevator, your eyes widen at the crowd gathered in the lobby, you quirk your eyebrow, what's going on? Did a villain attack again? Your mind goes back to Hobie, is he okay? Is this why he didn't answer? Your imagination runs wild, but before you panic, water from outside rushes inside the space, you're brought back to reality, people rush back trying to avoid the brown sludge.

You step back inside the elevator along with a few people, a couple of them you recognized from your class. The doors ding close, as one of the familiar faces presses the fifth floor. You're still confused, so you tap his shoulder, determined to get answers.

"Hey, what happened? Did a dam break or something?" You try to play off your anxiety.

"Nope, apparently it's been raining bloody hard, we've been stuck in that damn windowless lab for so long, we didn't notice" he murmurs out a swear, damning the city for the lack of proper drainage.

"Thanks, thought it was something horrible"

"Oh it is, the tube's closed, goddamnit, I'm missing my soap" the other passengers look at him, when he says the last part louder than he intended. He gets off the elevator early, too embarrassed to stay on.

You look at him apologetically, mouthing a thank you. Bringing out your phone you text Hobie– can't go home yet :( underground's flooded :((

The three dots appear again, but this time followed by a reply.

Go to the balcony, 7th floor, got a surprise.

You knit your eyebrows together, questioning his cryptic message. Nonetheless you press the button. When everyone gets off the elevator, leaving you inside, you smile to yourself, wondering what his surprise could be. Here's to hoping it's food.

It seems like an eternity before the elevator doors open to the seventh floor. You practically skipped over towards the double doors despite your exhaustion. Pushing the doors open, the late afternoon sun greets you, slowly setting in the horizon. Hobie or his 'surprise' is nowhere to be found.

You pause, noticing the puddles on the tiled floor, carefully walking towards the railing so you don't slip and fall flat on your face. Finally reaching the metal railing, you lean on it, inhaling and exhaling out, a cold breeze rushes past, fluttering your eyelashes in the wind.

For a second you forget your fatigue, you didn't hear Hobie's breathing behind you.

"Boo" he says it right in your ear.

"Fucker!" You jump back, the railing hitting the small small of your back, you hiss out.

"Shit, you okay?" Hobie asks in between laughs. He's hanging from his web upside down, the shiny spikes on his head gleaming in the sun, shining directly in your eye.

You grimace, shielding your eye from the light with your hand, your back throbs with a dull pain "is this your surprise? Wounding me?"

"Wounding you? That's a bit harsh, innit?" Hobie notices you're alone so it's safe to take off his mask, relieving your strained eye. He reaches towards you, "come 'ere, let me see if I blinded you" Hobie uses this as an excuse to hold your face in his hands.

He rubs small circles over your eyelid, your face heats up from the affection, Hobie's still hanging effortlessly upside down, "show off" you say softly.

He chuckles, pulling you closer to him, so close, your eyes cross together, as you're looking at his lips. Hobie finds the sight adorable, "let me kiss it better" he points at your eyes.

"Doctor's orders? I'm not a professional but I don't think–" you stop yourself when he places an unexpected quick kiss on the corner of your right eye.

He moves towards your left eye, smirking at your flustered expression, this time you're ready, closing your left eye so he could kiss it fully. You sigh, content.

"I think I missed one," Hobie tilts his head.

"I don't have a third eye"

"You sure? It's right–" he lifts your head up slightly, crushing his lips to yours, you smile into the kiss, Hobie tugs on your hair, earning a gasp from you, a ruse so he could kiss you deeply. You hold on to his back for stability, your legs wobbling in the cold breeze.

The unique position provides a new way for you to kiss him, mentally jotting it down so you could recreate it for another time, but in your current state, you forgot your train of thought the second it left your mind.

He pulls away for oxygen, cursing the need for humans to breathe, "here" Hobie stares at your smitten expression, he's sure he has the same look on his face.

You have no words, if this was his surprise, you're satisfied.

Hobie raises a pierced brow, tapping your forehead with his index finger "you still in there?"

You could only manage to nod, unable to form words "mmhm"

Hobie thinks you're goddamn adorable, you deserve another kiss just for that.

He pecks your lips with a loud smack, leaving a sheen on your lips. You wake up from your stupor, laughing.

Hobie finally drops down, gracefully landing on his feet, Accidentally splashing your jeans when he lands on a puddle.

"Ugh" you grimace, lifting your leg.

"It'll dry off in a minute" Hobie grabs your bag from your shoulder, placing it on his back. "Come on then" he reaches towards you.

At first you thought he just wanted a hug, but remembering your earlier predicament, you step back.

"Oh no way" you cross your arms "nope, I'm not doing that, can that flimsy web even carry us both?" You point at the web he left.

"That web is stronger than a steel cable"

You look at the white rope slightly swinging in the wind, it does not look like it's stronger than a steel cable.

You stare at Hobie "I'm not gonna let you fall" he crosses the small distance "never"

You look into his eyes, still apprehensive, you bounce on the balls of your feet, looking down at the flooded street below. You definitely don't want to trudge the mucky water, who knows what's floating in there.

"Alright fine, no funny business" you give up, looping your arms over his neck.

Hobie smiles victoriously, he grabs the back of your legs so you could wrap it around his waist. You yelp when he taps your arse, he laughs at your reaction.

You glare at him through your eyelashes. He places his mask back on.

"Right, no funny business" he mimics your voice. "You ready?"

"On second thought, maybe–"

Hobie doesn't let you finish your sentence, he jumps off the balcony quickly aiming his webs at a building. You feel your stomach drop, unable to scream, so you cling tighter, closing your eyes as the harsh wind whips at your thick jacket.

"I've got you, lovey" Hobie tries to reassure you. You can hear his web shooters thwip everytime a web releases from its compressed container.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You finally find your voice, screaming out, while Hobie drops down from a height, you feel motion sick.

Hobie finally finds a steady web slinging rhythm, enabling him to rub at your back, calming you a bit.

"You can open your eyes y'know"

"Nope, no thank you, I'm good" your eyes tightly shut.

"You sure? It's a gorgeous view, love" he softly says the last word, dripping with affection.

You exhale, trusting him, you bravely open your eyes "wow" gasping out, the sky is a brilliant orange, slowly transitioning into a marvelous pink shade, the high rise buildings fly past, its windows shining magnificently in the sunset. You can see the silhouette of you clutching onto Hobie's body like a tarsier on the buildings' many windows.

Hobie grins at your reaction, your eyes wide, it's like you're seeing a different side of the world. "Beautiful"

"You're right" you move your head to face him, finding Hobie staring right back at you.

Your cheeks heat up despite the cold bite of the wind, hiding your flustered expression on the crook of his neck. Hobie can feel your breath on his skin, leaving goosebumps.

He clears his throat (and thoughts) "almost there, hang on" Hobie hastens his web swinging, eager to show you his surprise.

You peek behind Hobie's neck, enjoying the passing scenery. "How do you not get motion sick?"

He laughs "A lot of practice"

Hobie finally reached his destination, his feet skids to a stop, holding you close- incase you fly off him.

He taps your back, telling you it's fine to finally get off. You try to stand, legs shaking from the adrenaline.

You hold on to his strong arm with a grip. You find yourself on top of Victoria tower, iconic London structures provide an unforgettable view. The London eye looming over the river thames, the iconic tower bridge on your left. Big Ben greets you with a chime of its clock.

"Holy shit" you're completely awestruck, you didn't even notice letting go of his arm.

He calls your name, trying to get your attention by tugging at your jacket.

"Hobie, is this–" he hands you a cup of tea. "What? Where?" You're confused, holding onto the steaming cup.

Hobie shakes the thermos in his hand, the contents sloshing inside, lid missing. "Figured you needed a drink" he says it so nonchalantly, like he didn't plan it (he definitely did)

You hold the lid turned cup in your hands, warming your palms.

"Is this your surprise?"

"Yeah, what? You thought it was the kiss, huh?" Hobie smirks, teasingly.

"Definitely not" you hide your lie behind the cup, slurping loudly.

"Sure"

A cold gust of wind blows towards you, your jacket sways in the wind, you regret wearing jeans now.

Hobie grabs your waist, scared that you might fall off the tower. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I saved my drink" you raise your cup, showing him none of the contents spilled out.

"Good, I would've bought that bread you like, but I figured the birds would get to it first" Hobie wraps his fingers in your belt loop, pulling you closer, warmth radiating off him. You lay your head on his shoulder, now that the adrenaline has faded away, you can feel the exhaustion coming back.

Hobie hugs you tightly, his knuckles massage your neck, the tight muscles relax in his hold "You feel better?"

You figured it out, why he's been doting on you, he probably noticed how tired you are these past few weeks and wanted to help you relax. Your heart swells tenfold, Hobie may not be good at telling you how much he loves you, but his actions make up for it.

You're eternally grateful, you don't know how it's possible but you love him even more, your heart overflowing with affection.

"Are you still with me?" He whispers, thinking you might've fallen asleep in his arms.

"Thank you" you look at him, cupping his jaw with your free hand, pecking his cold cheek "thank you" you say it softly this time.

"It's you, love, let me indulge you from time to time, yeah?"

"Only if you let me do the same for you"

"You already do" he lifts your chin closer to his lips.

"I love you" you whisper against his lips.

Hobie answers by sealing your lips with a kiss. A light drizzle of rain falls over you, you yelp when the cold water hits your skin.

Hobie clings to you tighter, ignoring the rain slowly getting heavier, soaking his suit and your jacket.

You pull away reluctantly, "we're gonna get sick!" You try to blink away the heavy droplets falling on your lashes.

"I'll take care of you" a sudden clap of thunder makes you jump, changing Hobie's plans "but yeah, we definitely should go"

Hobie gathers his things before he grabs your waist to carry you again. You instinctively wrap your legs on his waist, grinning widely, ready and happy to swing home.

"You ready?" he adjusts your arms.

"Yeah" you look at Hobie like he hung the stars in the sky.

A/N: sorry if the geography is wrong lol. I couldn't resist not adding the iconic upside down kiss 🤭 thank you for reading! As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv fanfic #atsv hobie #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #hobie brown fluff #food mention #established relationship

576 notes · View notes

genshinluvr · 10 months

Text

Sick Days 2

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: The men are sick, and it's your duty to nurse them back to their healthy selves. Yes, the men are sick— all twenty-seven of them are ill, and you're the only one who's taking care of them. Some of them made it easier for you, but others made it complicated for you. It's a good thing you don't have emetophobia.

Note: This is highly requested by either three people or one person. Either way, I'm surprised someone wanted part two of the previous mini-fic because I felt iffy about the first part. Anyway, I am back from my vacation! That means we can finally get back to the longer fics because this upcoming week will be a villain!isekai'd!reader fic because it won the voting on Tumblr and Discord :> I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: The men are sick, and some of them are vomiting

Word Count: 3.5k

This is part two of Sick Days.

RING!

“Onikabuto booboo bear! I’m hungryyy!”

You run to the left side of the room with a tray of food in your hands. “Coming!”

RING!

“Sweetheart? Can you get me water? My throat is feeling parched.”

You run to the nearest water pitcher, grab a glass cup and fill it with water. “Give me a moment!” You holler. After filling the cup with water, you run to the right side of the room, making sure not to spill any water on the wooden floor.

RING RING!

“Snookums!!!! I’m cold! Can you get me an extra blanket and maybe cuddle with me?”

You run toward the piles of blankets on the table and search for the softest blanket you can find. The thicker and softer the blanket, the better it is. You don’t want any of them to be cold and feel uncomfortable while ill. You know how your boyfriends are—when they’re feeling unwell and sick, they need your attention around the clock. While searching through the mountain of blankets, you hear someone cough loudly.

Without looking, you announce over your shoulders, “Make sure to cough into your elbows and keep your masks on. You guys wouldn’t want to get me sick, now, do you?”

“No,” Aether mutters before sniffling under his face mask.

Zhongli sighs, rubbing his throbbing temples. “Apologies, dearest.”

“Childe, you can’t just ask [Y/N] to cuddle with you. You’ll get them sick, and if they get sick—”

Diluc was interrupted by Childe coughing loudly into his elbows, causing the redhead to roll his eyes and scoot toward the edge of his bed. Childe drops his arm to his side and narrows his eyes at Diluc before snuggling into his blanket, shivering like a chihuahua.

After what feels like forever, you finally found the perfect blanket for the poor, shivering Snezhnayan. You pull the blanket from the pile and walk to Childe’s bed. Childe’s eyes light up, and he sits on the bed, making grabby motions as you get closer to his bed. You decided to have the men stay in the infirmary at the estate instead of their bedrooms because, to you, it’d be easier to tend to each person if they were all in the same room instead of scattered around the estate.

Well, at least that’s what you assumed. Now look at you— running from each side of the room to tend to each person’s needs, from getting water, cooking, and feeding your sickly boyfriends to getting them extra pillows and blankets if they’re in need, and so much more. It’s safe to say that you’re getting your daily exercise.

“I think I found the perfect blanket for you, Childe. It’s warm and really soft,” you say proudly, tossing the blanket over his shivering body.

Childe smiles at you beneath his face mask before grabbing you by the wrist while you adjust the blanket over him. You pause and look at the ginger Harbinger curiously. For someone who’s sick, Childe still has his strength because he somehow managed to pull you onto his bed. You stumble forward, making sure not to crush him when you land on his bed. Childe wraps his muscular arms around your neck and his legs around your thighs.

“Well, hello to you too,” you mumble, head resting against the crook of Childe’s neck.

Childe doesn’t reply. Instead, he sighs with contentment before rolling over to his side, bringing you with him. You snort and run your hands through his unruly, ginger hair. You pause and squeeze your eyes shut after feeling Childe’s damp hair. Oh, dear Archons. You pull your hands from Childe’s hair and wipe your hand on your shirt. Childe doesn’t seem to notice your slight change of behavior as he continues to nuzzle against you, sighing with contentment. You hear a disgruntled sigh coming from the small infirmary bed beside Childe’s bed. You peek from Childe’s neck to see Diluc and Al Haitham glaring holes into the back of Childe’s head.

Al Haitham sniffles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Childe, you shouldn’t cuddle with [Y/N], or else you’ll get them sick too,” Al Haitham grumbles, continuing to glare at the ginger Snezhnayan.

“How are you freezing when you’re from Snezhnaya? Aren’t you used to the cold?” Venti asks from the other side of the room.

You chuckle. “Just because Childe is Snezhnayan doesn’t mean he’s used to the cold. Besides, Childe freezing due to being sick and being in a cold environment are two different things,” you say.

You pat Childe’s head and roll off the infirmary bed. Childe whines with protest, grabbing the hem of your shirt and attempting to pull you back to his bed, only for the hem of your shirt to slip through his fingers. Childe pouts and remains in bed, gazing at you with puppy dog eyes. You walk to the person closest to the medicine cart and adjust the pillow under his head.

“How are you feeling, Baizhu? You’re usually the one caring for us all and giving us medication, but today you and I switched spots,” you say, grabbing the medicine bottle with his name on the bottle and uncapping it.

Out of every sick man in the infirmary, you’re worried about Baizhu the most. Baizhu’s health is more at risk, and he’s prone to catching illnesses quickly out of the twenty-seven men. You’re grateful to have Baizhu give you some pointers on what medication to give each man in the infirmary, how much they need to take their medicine, and how often they need to take them.

Baizhu coughs into his elbow, wincing when he feels a sharp pain in his chest. “I could be worse, but with your assistance, I should be okay,” Baizhu wheezes.

You take out two pill tablets for Baizhu and hand them to the green-haired man. Baizhu takes his face mask off, throws the two pills into his mouth, and grabs the cup of water from your hands before downing the water to wash down the pills. Baizhu hands you the cup before lying on the bed. Changsheng, on the other hand, is perched on Baizhu’s lap, slowly slithering up to the green-haired man’s chest and staying there.

“How did we all get sick simultaneously? This sucks,” Kaveh sniffles from the other side of the infirmary, rubbing his red and irritated nose.

Just when Kaveh’s about to say more, his cheeks suddenly puff up, and he covers his mouth with his hands. Everyone stares at Kaveh, watching his pale, sickly skin gradually turn light green. Oh no. You recognize the expression. You rush to the trash can, grab it, and run to the other side of the infirmary to give Kaveh the trash can before he can spew bile all over the place.

Kaveh whimpers a ‘thank you’ before dry heaving into the trash bin. The others close their eyes and cover their ears while you look away, rubbing Kaveh’s back as he vomits into the trash can. After a few minutes, Kaveh wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while you take the vomit-filled trash can from his hands.

“I think you should go brush your teeth, Kaveh. Wouldn’t want to have vomit breath, now, do you?” Scaramouche asks, his nose scrunching up with disgust.

Kaveh sighs and shoots a glare toward Scaramouche. Kaveh tosses the blanket off his body before getting up from the bed and going to the nearest bathroom. Scaramouche chuckles before quickly pulling up his face mask and coughing into his elbows. You sigh and dispose of the vomit-filled trash bin.

After changing the trash bin, you walk into the room and grab a pill bottle for Xiao. You didn’t think it was possible for Archons and Adeptis to get sick, but you were wrong. You stand beside Xiao’s bed and nudge him lightly while he remains on the infirmary bed with the blanket over his head. Xiao groans and curls into a little ball.

“Xiao, I have your medicine. You should take it before you sleep,” you say, nudging the Yaksha lightly.

“Adeptis don’t need sleep,” Xiao grumbles, his voice nasally due to his stuffy nose.

You sigh, grab the edge of the blanket, and yank it off his head. Xiao grumbles and squints at you. Xiao sighs and rolls over on his back, rubbing his eyes. Poor Xiao looks miserable— the tip of his nose is red, and he is constantly sniffling. Xiao wipes his nose with the tissue you hand to him while you uncap the pill bottle to give him his medication.

You hold out the two pill tablets to Xiao. “I know you don’t need sleep, but you should get some sleep regardless. If you don’t rest, then you won’t be healthy. If you’re not healthy, then that means I can’t give you kisses,” you say.

Xiao stares at you before reluctantly grabbing the tablets from your hands, throwing them into his mouth, and swallowing the pills dry. You gaped at Xiao. Xiao points at his head while you stare at him with your mouth agape.

“What is he doing?” Cyno mutters, hugging his knees to his chest.

Kazuha wraps himself up in the blanket before falling over on the bed. “I think he’s asking for a forehead kiss from [Y/N] as a reward for taking his medicine,” Kazuha replies.

“So… are we not going to talk about how Xiao swallowed those pills without needing water?” Heizou asks, blowing his nose into the tissue.

You and Xiao continue to stare at each other in silence. You chuckle to yourself before leaning toward Xiao and kissing his forehead. Xiao closes his eyes, heat rushing to his cheeks. When you pull away, you notice Xiao’s cheeks are bright pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of his fever or if he’s blushing. Either way, Xiao looks adorable.

“Get some rest now, okay?” You stroke Xiao’s hair.

Xiao nods wordlessly before lying on his back while you tuck him into bed. Xiao closes his eyes when you lean in to kiss his forehead before leaving him to let him sleep. You walk to the next person to check on them, only to see Kaeya knocked out cold. Kaeya’s not wearing his eyepatch as it lays above his pillow. You press your hand against his forehead after brushing his bangs from his forehead. He still has a high fever, and he’s been sick for a few days— luckily, his fever isn’t nearly as bad as the first day.

Kaeya cracks his eyes open when you wipe the sweat from his forehead with a rag. Kaeya clears his throat, wincing when he feels how dry his throat is. “Oh? Is it my turn to be taken care of by nurse bunny?” Kaeya teases.

You snort. “Yes, it’s your turn to be taken care of by me, Kaeya,” you reply. “Try sitting for me, okay? You need to take your medicine.”

Kaeya sighs and sits up, grabbing the eyepatch from above the pillow and putting them on while you grab his medicine bottle. Why would the men need their own prescription if they have the same illness? Well, some are allergic to certain ingredients in the medication, and others are not. Some need stronger doses than others. People’s bodies react to medication differently, and you sure as hell do not want your boyfriends to have a negative reaction to their medication. Especially when they’re sick— some sicker than others.

You take two tablets from the pill bottle, handing them to the Cavalry Captain. Kaeya smiles at you, taking the pills from your hands before swallowing them with the help of water. After downing the medication, Kaeya places the cup on the nightstand between his and Tighnari’s bed, resting his head on your lower abdomen, and closes his eyes.

“Get some rest, alright? I only bothered you awake so you can take your medication,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair.

Kaeya nods before lying on the bed and closing his eyes. You turn to look at Tighnari, whose staring at you with a faraway look. His hair is pulled up in a half ponytail, there are dark circles underneath his eyes, and he’s shaking his head.

Tighnari clears his throat. “Before you say anything, I already took my medication,” Tighnari rasps.

You blink at him. “When? I didn’t even notice you getting up to take your medication,” you say incredulously.

“He took his medication while you were occupied with Kaveh,” Thoma interjects, snuggling up against the body pillow and closing his eyes.

You sigh. “At least it’s one less person to worry about,” you murmur, running your hands through your hair. “You should get some rest now. Since you took your medication already.”

Tighnari stares at you before pointing at his forehead. You playfully roll your eyes and lean down, kissing his forehead. Tighnari silently cheers before taking his hair out of the half ponytail and lying down. You were about to go over and check on Gorou and Albedo, but the two men were also knocked out cold.

Gorou cracks his eyes open and rubs his eye. “Can I take my medication later? ‘M tired,” Gorou mumbles, rolling over on his stomach, and slowly falls asleep.

“Sorry, Gorou, but I can’t let you skip out on your medication. There’s a time slot, remember?” You poke Gorou’s cheek lightly.

On the bed, one foot from Gorou’s bed, Albedo raises his hand. “I also took my medication earlier as well,” Albedo comments.

You stare at Albedo as the Chief Alchemist gets comfortable in his bed. Well, at least the ones that took their medication are somewhat making it easier for you. You walk to Dainsleif’s bed and sit across from him. The blond man cracks his eyes open and gazes at you with bleary eyes, slowly rubbing his eyes as he sits on the bed. You pull his medicine bottle out from the small basket and hand him the bottle. Dainsleif uncaps the bottle, takes two pill tablets from the bottle, and pops the pills into his mouth before downing the water from his water bottle.

“I didn’t know you could get sick,” you murmur, hugging your knees to your chest.

Dainsleif hands the bottle back to you. “I’m immortal, not immune to diseases and sicknesses,” Dainsleif replies, wiping the droplet of water from the corner of his lips.

You stand and hand him the eyemask. “It looks like not even Archons are immune to diseases and illnesses. I’m going to let you rest now, alright? I’m going to check on the others,” you say, stroking Dainsleif’s hair before walking to the next person.

What amazes you is how Capitano continues to wear his helmet despite being sick. When you hand him his medication, Capitano gets up from his bed and leaves the room for a brief moment before returning.

“You didn’t throw the medicine away, did you?” you ask, gazing at the tall Harbinger skeptically.

Capitano’s shoulders bounce as he sits on his bed and shakes his head. “Just because I took my medication out of sight does not mean I threw them away. You needn’t worry,” says Capitano as he pats your head before lying down.

You sigh in relief and smile at Capitano before turning over to the other three Harbingers. You pass the medicine bottles to each man and fill their cups with water from the water pitcher. You hand the cups to the men, trading the cups of water for the medicine bottles. The three men take their medication before remaining sitting on their beds.

“Is there anything else you three need before I check up on Neuvillette and Wriothesley?” you ask, putting their prescription bottles back into the tray.

Pantalone sighs, takes his glasses off, and puts them on the nightstand. “When can we start cuddling again?” asks the black-haired Harbinger.

“When you’re not sick anymore, Captain Obvious. Do you want [Y/N] to get sick all because you wanted a cuddle session?” Dottore asks, glaring at the black-haired Harbinger.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Even though the two men are sick, they still bicker with one another. Pierro clears his throat and motions for you to come close. You walk to Pierro and stand at the foot of his bed. You grab an extra blanket for Pierro and drape it over him. Pierro grabs your hand and pulls you toward him.

You stand beside Pierro’s bed, and he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach. You run your hands through his hair, untangling the small knots in his hair as Pierro rubs your back with his thumb. You press the back of your hand against his forehead, sighing in relief.

“It looks like your fever is going down faster than the others! That’s great news,” you say, patting his head.

Pierro clears his throat. “It’s all thanks to you, little one. If it weren’t for you, my fever wouldn’t have gone down,” Pierro replies.

“Hey! Stop giving the old man attention because we’re dying over here!” A nasally voice hollers from the other side of the infirmary.

Pierro reluctantly releases you as you turn to where the other two men are lying. Wriothesley looks like a mess, but you can’t blame him since the poor man has emptied his stomach four times so far. Wriothesley sniffles pitifully, hugging the trash can to his chest as he wipes the snot from his nose with the back of his hand. You hand the medication to him, only for Wriothesley to shake his head and place a hand over his stomach.

“I don’t want to take it right now, my dear. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it down if I were to take the medication,” Wriothesley says, pressing his lips into a thin line.

Wriothesley’s face turns bright green before shoving his face into the trash bin and retching and emptying his stomach for the fifth time. You sigh, rubbing his back as he continues to spew into the almost full trash bin. While Wriothesley is retching and whimpering into the white trash can, you turn to Neuvillette.

“Did you take your medication?” You ask, shaking the prescription bottle lightly before him.

Neuvillette shakes his head. “I just woke up. Waking up to your face and the sound of your voice is something I would prefer over the sounds of Wriothesley heaving and whimpering into the trash can,” Neuvillette sighs, brushing his hair away from his face.

You run your fingers through Neuvillette’s hair, smiling at the silver-haired man. “Maybe next time when you’re not sick. After all, you and Wriothesley arrived at the estate not long ago, and look at you two… sick just like the others,” you sigh.

Poor Neuvillette and Wriothesley. The two men have moved into the estate not long ago, and yet both of them end up getting the virus that was going around the abode. The first person that caught the virus was Kaveh, and it passed around to everyone in the abode except for little ole’ you. This was strange because you get sick easily— you don’t have a weak immune system per se, but you have lived with children in the past back in your world, and those children would get you sick whenever they were sick.

“Here’s your medicine. Get some rest after, alright? I know you have a headache right now,” you murmur, handing Neuvillette his medication.

Neuvillette grabs the medication from your hands, and you turn to Wriothesley, who places the trash bin beside his bed and gazes at you with bleary eyes. You prop one hand on your hip, looking at Wriothesley curiously.

“Are you done throwing up?” You ask.

Wriothesley nods.

You tap your fingers on your hips. “Do you think you can take your medications now? If not, I can give them to you later when you don’t feel like you have to throw up again,” you suggest.

Wriothesley shakes his head wordlessly and extends his hand, the palm of his hand facing up as he waits for you to hand the pill tablets to him. You sigh and place the two pill tablets on the palm of his hands, and watch the black-haired man shove the pills into his mouth before chugging the water.

“Wriothesley, please don’t chug the water. You might make yourself throw up again if you do that,” you chide.

Wriothesley places the cup back on the nightstand between his and Neuvillette’s bed, wiping the water droplets from his lips with the back of his hand. You pat his head while he smiles, pressing his head against your stomach. After a few minutes of petting Wriothesley’s hair, you grab the trash can beside Wriothesley’s bed and walk out of the room to empty the trash can, only to stop in your tracks when you hear someone retch and a collective groan.

“[Y/N]! You have more trash cans to empty!”

You sigh, shoulders slumping. Whatever this virus is, you sure hope it stops floating around because you don’t know how much longer you can deal with having to change out trash bags. Especially when you’re not a huge fan of vomiting. It’s a good thing you don’t have emetophobia— that would render you useless if you had it. As long as you’re not the one that’s vomiting, you’re okay with cleaning up after someone else’s vomit since it’s not your first rodeo.

Note: Not gonna lie, as I got closer to completing this mini-fic, I started getting nauseous out of nowhere. But I am okay-ish now! The Gatorade kind of helped me feel better. But yes, this upcoming week is the somewhat lengthier fic of villain!isekai'd!reader since it did win the Tumblr and Discord polls. Speaking of Discord, for those who want to join my Discord server, here is the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Please make sure to read the server rules to save yourself from getting in trouble (if you like the server, you can stay, chat, and lurk. If not, you can leave if you don't vibe with it ^^). I didn't post a new link last week due to being away on vacation, and I didn't want my mods to feel overwhelmed with new members while I was away. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

574 notes · View notes

save-the-villainous-cat · 4 months

Note

hero with chronic pain 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Some days were worse than others.

The hero couldn't recall the last time they actually felt alright. One moment had changed everything, had bound them to a wheelchair for weeks and now that they could finally walk a little, they dreamt of hope. But it wasn't alright, in fact, they were quite far away from it.

At first, forgiveness had been out of the picture entirely. They wouldn't forgive the villain, no matter how many flowers they brought and despite the daily visits. The hero had told them several times that they didn't want them in their hospital room but the villain had come anyway, begging for forgiveness. A few times they had actually cried and they had looked so rough that the hero had forgotten all their anger for a second.

But it had taken time to come to terms with their new reality, with the pain and the villain's presence. The villain, who was trying everything in their power to make the hero's life easier now. Many times they had told them it was an accident, that they hadn't expected the hero to show up that evening.

Sometimes, the hero doubted their good intentions. However, eventually they had forgiven them.

"How are you doing?" they asked.

"My doctor said I should take it easy. Less walking." The hero shrugged and closed their eyes. A few weeks ago, the hospital had allowed them to go back home. It was strange, though. They had gotten used to the steril smell and the blinding LEDs.

"Are you still pushing yourself?" the villain asked, "I thought we made it clear that you need to rest between physical acitivies."

"It doesn't matter if I rest or not, I am still in pain," the hero answered. They were beyond frustrated. They should've been on the city's rooftops by now, capturing criminals left and right.

"It'll get worse if you start jumping around. Or it'll never go away." The villain's eyes were on the hero, focused and intense. They looked concentrated and determined. Every now and then, the hero had noticed their little habits. Biting their lip when they were nervous, fidgeting hands when they were embarrassed, awkward laugh when there was silence. The hero had thought they would never forgive them but they were wrong about that.

"I don't wanna argue with you. I would lose anyway," the hero said and waved their hand to make sure the villain would realise that they wanted to move on with the conversation. "You're right."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I mean, you're doing pretty much everything. Cleaning, cooking, groceries. I don't know what else I could ask for."

"Do you need more time alone? Or do you need someone else to talk to? Maybe I could invite some of your friends. But I don't think they would like to see me. So, maybe I should stay at my place when they're here. I don't think they know what to do when your leg gets worse or when you need help though, so maybe I should stay close? So you can call me when you need me? Maybe?" Lip biting. The hero smiled.

"That's very sweet of you. I don't think I'm quite ready to see my friends again, though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a superhero and I'm not supposed to be weak," the hero said. They could feel a sharp pain travelling down their back, setting their spine on fire. Again, they closed their eyes and tried to ignore it as best as they could. Sometimes, they would wake up in the middle of the night because of the pain, tossing and turning in bed with tears running down their cheeks.

A couple of times, they had called the villain. It wasn't that surprising that they would show up as quickly as they could.

"You're not weak, you're recovering from an injury most people wouldn't have survived."

"Either way, I don't want any of them to see me this vulnerable," the hero responded. "It's still a little difficult for me to accept."

The hero thought about their next words carefully. They were sure the villain was aware that there was something else behind the hero's behaviour. Something the hero hadn't told anyone yet. It wasn't easy for the hero to admit but right now, the villain was the only one who cared like no other.

"Being a hero is kind of the only thing I have. I'm not good at anything else. I'm not a genius, I'm not an artist, I am not too big on sports. I don't have a skill, I don't have any talents. It's the only thing I am relatively good at and now I am...nothing. I'm this broken thing that's useless. I need to be a hero again. I need to fight again."

There was silence. No awkward laugh. The villain's eyebrows knitted together and the hero realised that they weren't too happy with that observation.

"You know, you say that as if it's a well-known fact. But you do have talents. You're great with kids, you're great at speeches, the way you think is astounding. You notice things no one else does. You're a social person, you're a kind person. Skills have to be mastered and you've mastered being a decent human being. You're not useless. You're kind of everything to me." The villain looked at their hands. Sometimes the hero wondered what had happened if they hadn't been injured. Would they still fight each other? Would they have killed each other? "So, allow yourself to rest. I still need you."

The hero only noticed now that it was pretty hot in their living room. They had never noticed these things nor thought about it in that way but the villain was someone so close yet out of reach. Maybe they were right, maybe they were exaggerating. Whatever it was, the hero wanted more of it. Out of the villain's mouth, this sounded like a confession.

"I'm not perfect."

"I disagree," the villain said. "You forgave me when you had no reason to. I admire that. But let's not argue and let me help you with your back."

For some reason, the villain always knew when the hero was in pain and trying to hide it. This time, the hero was a little more flustered than usual and as they tried to fall asleep on their bed that evening, the villain's words echoed in their mind.

#theyre in wuv the idiots #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #h/c

166 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 1 month

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

14K notes · View notes

sardonic-the-writer · 9 months

Text

𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩

↳ summary: you ask your distant and cold professor for some help with your thesis. good thing he seems to be an expert on fear

↳ warnings: mentions of murder, booze, guns, and some gore. canon type gotham violence. a wiff of stalking maybe?

↳ song: aleph—gesaffelstein

masterlist!

University life wasn't much different than you had expected. Television and movies glam it up to make it sound like the peak of your young adult life. A time for exceeding expectations and drinking cheap booze out of those weird solo cups in a random person's basement. But this was Gotham—where crime is the highest in the country and misfortune runs galore. The closest anyone got to walking into a stranger's basement these days was with the threat of a gun at their back.

In preparation for the quote-unquote finest school Gotham had to offer, instead of going out and buying the list of supplies your school recommended, you simply lowered your expectations. Not like there was much to begin with in the first place. You could get a protractor later.

Your thought process proved to be worth it too. Barely an hour into your first day, the campus was evacuated as a precaution for a major villain sighting in the area. Something about filling up a building with highly dangerous gas. As of weeks later, details still hadn't been released to the public. That was fine by you. All you cared about was not getting ripped away from your precious lunch again.

The campus cafeteria was drafty and smelled of mold, parties were thrown way too often, and most of your professors were stern with classes people only took so they could get their degrees.

In that case, Mr. Crane was no different from any of the other teachers.

There was certainly no lack of students in his class on the first week—the largely female percentage most likely gathered because of his pretty face. But by the end of it, over half had already dropped out.

You were not one of them. Somewhat regrettably, you had begun to think after hours of pouring over papers in just the first week. But you needed this class to fully understand your thesis topic and you'd be damned if you moved all the way out to Gotham for nothing.

That was what you were thinking about as you rounded the back row of Doctor Crane's class, staring blankly at the missed call from your mother atop your phone's home screen.

It had practically become a ritual for her to call you at least once a day since you'd moved to the city. Anytime you didn't pick up, it would send her into a frenzy—despite your multiple explanations of why you have your phone on silent during lectures. But that wouldn't stop her from constantly pleading for you to come back and finish getting your degree at home. Because even if it would take longer, and completely drain your bank account, at least you would be away from those lunatics. Or so she called them.

"You have nothing to worry about." You'd told her one time while watching a bowl of ramen bubble angrily on your stove. "Even if I was mugged or something, I'm sure the Batman would save me."

It had been meant as a half joke, said only to quell your mothers worries. Yet the more and more newspaper stands you passed on your way to the store, the more the vigilanties name came up. Often accompanied by the words HERO or SAVIOR afterward.

The sudden memory of newspapers stopped you right as you were about to cross the threshold from the lecture hall to the rest of the building. You were quick to turn around, flipping your phone back into your pants pocket loosely before approaching the professor's desk. A few more students filed out from behind you, one even tossing you a wave, before it was just you and the professor left.

Doctor Crane was nothing short of intimidating. Everything from the clean cut suit he worse, to his icy blue eyes—and even his second title as lead doctor in the nearby Arhum Asylum—was surrounded by an air of stoic professionalism.

The man hadn't even been there on the first day of school. Something that would have off-put you if not for the sudden evacuation, haulting any chance of first impressions. Instead, he had shown up the next day like nothing had happened: lips pressed into a tight line and eyes dull as he spoke to the class without really looking at anyone.

He had made it clear on multiple occasions that he was rarely available after class or for tutoring hours, but you doubted that even if he was, nearly anyone would show up for a one on one conversation.

Looks like you would have to be the outlier today.

You waited patiently as he shuffled from one stack of paper to another, eyes never once drifting over the rim of his glasses to look at you. Occasionally you would catch a glimpse of his usually devoid face break into a little frown before making a mark on a paper and moving on. You resisted the urge to peak and see if any of those papers were yours.

"Yes?" He adressed you by your last name suddenly. Packets and papers continued to shuffle. This time he did spare you a glance, a flash of something swirling in his cold eyes before disappearing. Or maybe that had been the dim light. It had been to quick for you to catch.

You cleared your throat before speaking; adjusting your bag unconsciously.

"I had a question or two for you about my thesis topic." You said with a level tone. He asked what it was somewhat dismissively, his monotone way of speaking ever present.

"I've been researching fear and its effects on the human brain for quite sometime, so I felt it was only fitting for that to be my topic."

That seemed to gather his attention. When you looked up from your examination of the plain black stapler on the corner of his desk, you were met with one raised eyebrow. His hand was writing on the stapled essay before him considerably slower.

If you squinted hard enough it almost looked like he was smiling.

"May I ask what has garnered your interest in such a subject?" He pressed. For a moment your mind went a little blank, not expecting such undivided attention from him. It was unnerving, concidering that before today he probably didn't even know your first name.

"Well, I've always been interested in how much emotions have a grip on the mind." The words were now tumbling from your mouth in a flurry of half-baked thoughts.

"It was only after moving here that I really realized how it can affect an entire city, much less just one person. Everyone knows how absurd the crime rates here are, but I don't think they've ever seen the stark contrast in the Gotham residents from, say, another neighboring city.

And not to mention there's a whole group of personas parading around the block inspiring pure fear. When the bigger crimes aren't outwardly released to the public, I'm starting to think the ones the police can cover up are being covered up. I did a quick search of specific types of crimes related to the patterns of people like the Joker, Bane, and Scarecrow, and too much adds up for it to all be a coincidence."

You reminded yourself to breathe. You knew you were passionate about this subject—hence the decision in thesis topic—but you were never this chatty with it. Something about Doctor Cranes' unwavering stare drew it all out of you in one go. He was a surgeon at the moment, prying your brain apart from the inside out and turning it over in his hands.

Or maybe you were over analyzing things again.

"And what do you think of this Scarecrow?" He had stopped grading now, plucking the clear rimmed glasses of the bridge of his nose and folding them neatly beside him. In a second, his icy blue gaze seemed to intensify in strength, pinning you in place like a specimen of his to observe. You made the brief connection between this and a lepidopterist pinning up butterflys by their wings. It was quick to leave.

Instead you thought back as news clippings and articals flashed in bold print on your mind. Pictures of the victims he had since left behind followed.

Most of them had died from shock or poison, toxins coursing through their bloodstream too fast for their bodies to handle. Not a wonderful way to go, but it was no better or worse than the dozens of mugging gone wrong that occurred everyday. If you ignored how they had all clawed their eyes out in terror, that is.

Your response came slow and methodical, words chosen with care. You were well aware that people had been thrown out of prestigious universities for speaking their minds about less, and you couldn't afford that right now. Besides. He had asked you a question. Who were you to deny him?

"I think what he's managed to make, to do, is a breakthrough in the scientific and medical field." If your professor noted the way you swallowed thickly he didn't say anything.

"What else?" It was almost like he knew every thought that crossed your mind before it even formed. As if he had been preparing for this exact moment.

You could continue. You could tell him that you'd started sitting by your thoroughly locked window at night, waiting patiently to catch a glimpse of a masked maniac. You could tell him that monster was the exact thing that pushed you to move to Gotham. You most certantly could tell him that you wanted to get your hands on that gas to do some tests of your own—see exactly what this Scarecrow had managed to create.

But instead you looked to the left and told him that was it.

"Well if that's all, I would like to continue this conversation at a later date." Doctor Cranes glasses were back on now as he stood up and began gathering his things.

"I'm not sure—"

"I'm quite interested in what you have to say." He adressed you by your last name again, shutting his briefcase closed with a chilling click. "After all, I have written some papers on this exact subject."

You know. You had read them in your search for more information on the Scarecrow's toxin.

"I'll keep that in mind, professor." You glanced at the doorway, wondering if it would be unacceptable to make a dash for it. You didn't want to be late for work any more than you were already. And if you were being honest this conversation had taken a turn you weren't prepared for.

By some grace of god he let the conversation drop. Not caring to spare another glance at him, you took to the door, planning out the route home in your head.

If he watched you go, you didn't notice. It wasn't until you had gotten home in your stained work uniform, beat up trainers grayed with labor, that you noticed your folder for his class was missing.

"Shit." You dragged a tired hand down your face, kicking off your socks as you lay next to the spread out compartments of your backpack.

You sighed. Looks like you'd be seeing Doctor Crane again sooner than you thought.

337 notes · View notes

camryn-haitani · 8 months

Text

c'mon bugaboo

cat noir x reader

'sentibubbler': season 4, episode 10

TW: angst and comfort, cursing, spoilers for that episode.

this is a little scenario I had in my head about him, so I decided to put it here. I don't know if this is really angst but I'm just gonna put it just in case. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long, here's my apology<3

- - - - - -

"b-but I wanna help. why can't I help?" cat noir asks.

"well, we really don't need your cataclysm so" rena says as she makes a mirage of ladybug. she runs off, rena following the fake ladybug.

"well.... there's nothing I can do now. I feel useless now ladybugs the guardian of the miracle box." cat sighs.

cat felt useless like he said. since ladybug can temporarily give people miraculous's, there was almost no need for him anymore. cat goes off with no destination in mind. he just jumps around from roof to roof. rena said their plan didn't require cat noir, so he walks around for hours. he sees the miraculous ladybug fix everything and sighs. by the time he's tired of running, he jumps down onto a roof and sits down, not knowing he's waken up someone.

y/n pov

"what the fuck, who or what is on my roof?" I get up from my bed to see what the noise came from.

I see that familiar black cat costume with the matching ears coming from that blond head.

"cat?" I walk up behind him and sit down.

"o-oh I'm sorry. I landed too hard and probably woke you up. I'll leave." he stands up to leave. "no no no, I was already awake. I've just gotta ask, what are you doing here? shouldn't you be with ladybug?" I sit down next to him.

he sighs, debating on whether to tell you or not. "well..." he goes on.

"ladybug hasn't really been needing me the last few missions. she's been asking other people for help. and...." he takes a breath, holding in tears, "it makes me feel like she doesn't need me anymore. like she's tossed me to the curb. like today, nino got akumatized into the sentibubbler by shadow moth. I was all ready to come and help, but rena said they don't need me..." I see a single tear fall from his eyes.

"ladybug has missed a lot of our nightly patrols. I miss it. I miss saving akumatized villains, I miss our patrols around Paris, I miss...." he takes a breath, "I miss her."

I look at him and hold his hand. I see him look at my hand on his.

"I'm kinda in the same situation, cat. but that's for another day. I don't wanna put this on you. do you wanna come in? it's kinda cold out here." I ask.

"sure... it is a bit chilly" he stands up and follows me.

we walk through my back door into my room. my room is quite big with the couch so it won't be too cramped with both of us in here(I know this is a bit much but just work with me please).

"hey cat." I look at him. "what's up?" he tries to say without breaking his voice. I hold out my arms to invite him in a hug. he looks at me with sad eyes, tumbles into my arms and breaks down crying.

he cries for a good while and when he calms down he asks, "am I just not enough?" he whispers. "oh cat, of course you're enough. I can't tell you why she gives other people miraculous's. but I do know that you're a great hero to Paris."

"I am?" he looks up at me. "yes cat, you're the best hero i have ever seen." I reassure him.

"thank you, truly. I'm sorry I was so loud on your roof." he apologizes. "no no it's ok, I'm glad you were because I wouldn't have met you" he smiles at my words. I hear faint beeps as cat looks down at his ring. "shit, I gotta go. it was nice meeting you......?" he pauses, not knowing my name. "it's y/n. is there a name I can call you instead of cat?" he laughs a bit at my question, "call me whatever you come up with, i don't mind." he answers.

"it was nice meeting you, kitty," I take his hand before he leaves, "if you ever feel like this again or need to talk, I'm always free. come by anytime." I smile.

"of course, cutie. I wouldn't want to miss any opportunity to see you again." he kisses the back of my hand.

"I'm see you soon, kitty." I kiss his cheek. he smiled at my kiss and went out the window.

'i hope I see him again. he's pretty cute.' I say to myself. I go back to my bed and drift off into sleep, thinking about a certain cat in mind.

- - - - - -

I will hopefully be doing a part 2 if y'all are interested<3

#cat noir #chat noir #cat noir x reader #chat noir x reader #x reader #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous x reader

393 notes · View notes

dwntwn-strnlo · 7 months

Text

IDIOT matt sturniolo

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.

↳ 𝐀/𝐍. i love spider man

↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. spider-man!matthew sturniolo x reader

↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. cleaning spider-man's cuts 🫡

↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? no!

↳ 𝐂𝐖! mentions of blood/wounds, language, ig kind of angsty?

"this is so fucking idiotic, matt. the day you get your head screwed on right and no longer do this bullshit is the day heaven rains down on earth."

hearing a knock on your window, you're more unfazed then you should be considering the fact that you live on the ninth floor. a few months ago you would've freaked out, but not so much anymore.

placing your book down, you stand up and walk over to the window. quietly sliding the curtains to the side to find your distressed boyfriend, clutching his hand tightly to his torso.

mumbling a string of profanities under your breath, you lift the glass, opening it so the cold midnight wind pours into your bedroom. "fuck, matt." you murmur, helping him climb inside.

blood drips from his skin, his suit ripped open in three long streaks. you frown, pulling him over to your bed. reminding him to stay quiet just in case someone's still awake.

he plops down on your bed, pulling his mask off to reveal the heap of chocolate hair on top of his head, staring apologetically into your eyes. tears and guilt swirling over the light blue you've learned to love so much. "i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching out to take your hands in his. "i know i promised you that i'd be careful, and i tried. i tried so hard but today was different i guess."

you look away, dropping his hands before walking into your bathroom without a word. stepping back into your room, you have a series of things you want to scream at the boy, but you refrain and tone it down.

"this is so fucking idiotic, matt." you huff, sitting down in front of him on the bed. "the day you get your head screwed on right and no longer do this bullshit is the day heaven rains down on earth."

he stays silent, closing his eyes for several long seconds before meeting yours once more. not finding the words, he just lightly nods.

"this is gonna sting," you mumble, taking a cotton swab soaked in rubbing alcohol to his torso. doing your best to rub away the dried blood without hurting him.

unto to your surprise, he flinches under your touch. biting down on his lower lip to keep a long list of harsh words locked away on his tongue.

setting down the cotton swab, you stand up, grabbing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt of his that he's been meaning to get back for a while now. tossing them in front of him. "put these on and then i'll wrap that up."

he nods, standing up as you step into your bathroom. looking into your mirror, you run your hands down your face. basically on the brink from steaming at the ears. you're so unbelievably pissed at matt right now, but you know no matter how much you beg him to throw the suit away, he's going to resist and ignore you.

matt walks into the bathroom, wrapping his arms around you and dropping his nose to your shoulder. "i'm sorry, i really am." he whispers.

you turn around, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "i know you are, honey. i'm sorry for snapping at you."

he shakes his head, "please don't apologize. its my fault." he pleads. "there was this little girl who was about to-" his breath catches, "it almost got her and i couldn't stand to watch it and so i left the family i was tending to and so i got in the way and i-"

pressing your lips against his, you temporarily shut him up. "its okay, matt." you hushed, running your hands gently through his coffee-colored hair. "you don't have to explain yourself."

releasing a tight breath of air, he nods before looking down at his feet.

gently taking his hand in yours, you drag him back to your bed to wrap the gauze around his waist. letting him tell you all about what happened tonight and how heroic he felt after stopping whatever villain was out there this time.

letting him hug you tighter, you mumble a sweet goodnight before he falls into a soft slumber in your arms.

TAGLIST

@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby @slaysturniolo @iheartshifting @mxqdii @luvsturniolo @lvrsparadise

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo blurb #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo angst #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #spider man #spiderman #spiderman au

237 notes · View notes

zazter-den · 3 months

Text

Chronically Chill

Synopsis- Sometimes life gets in the way of holiday plans, but your boyfriends always know how to roll with the punches. A different kind of domestic bliss with Sero and Kaminari.

Reader Characteristics- Fem with severe cramps.

Warnings- Smoking MMJ, Shotgunning, Denki as a TENS unit.

Tags- Period Comfort, Cozy Fluff, Caretaker!Sero, Caretaker!Denki, Epileptic!Denki.

Word Count- 2000

Sero pushed the door of the apartment open with an almost silent creak, the dim light from the kitchen just barely outlining the home's furniture. He could feel the weight of the day's patrol heavy on his muscles, the kind of fatigue that only came from hours of swinging through the city and wrangling villains with his tape. His backpack hit the chair with a soft thud, followed by the soft clatter of his helmet.

Making his way to the shared bedroom, Sero pushed the door open quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone. To his surprise, Denki was still up. He was sitting up in bed, his electric blond hair slightly disheveled. His worried expression caught Sero's attention immediately. But it was the sight of you tossing and turning uncomfortably in Denki's arms, that caused a surge of concern to rush through his veins.

He let out a tired sigh as he stripped down to his boxers, crawling onto the bed on your other side. He leaned over to Denki, pressing his lips against his boyfriend's in a rough but loving kiss, ringed fingers tangling in the blond hair. “Hey, Denks, sorry I'm late” Sero whispered, his voice filled with concern. “How's she doing?”

Denki looked up at him exhausted. “Having a rough night” he murmured concerned. “Been thrashing for most of it.” He rubbed circles on your back.

“Been looking after our girl for awhile, huh? Good boy” Sero praised, his voice filled with tired affection. His fingers continued to stroke Denki's hair gently, a soothing gesture that he knew always helped to calm his partner. Sero had always admired Denki's empathetic nature, how he could feel the emotions of others so strongly. However, he wasn't a fan of how sometimes it was to his own detriment. Denki leaned into the touch, his eyes closing briefly as he let out a sigh.

Your eyes shot open with a cry as you jolted awake by an excruciating cramp that twisted your insides. Your fingers instinctively dug into Denki's lower back, seeking some form of relief from the pain that coursed through your body. Denki was too worried to notice your grip, and just held you closer. “I'm sorry, love…” you whimpered into his chest, realizing once the pain subsided that you had unintentionally dug red marks into his skin.

Denki's expression softened as he gently kissed your forehead. “It's alright, babe” he said as he continued to rub circles on your back, “Hey, I know just what you need. So- health or mana potion?”

You winced, body still contorted in pain. You had to wait a moment for it to pass, your breathing shaky and uneven. “Both” you whimpered finally, voice barely above a whisper. You needed all the relief you could get tonight.

“On it” Sero drawled in his typical nonchalant manner, pressing a gentle kiss on top of Denki's head followed by one on yours. He hopped off the bed, footsteps barely making a sound against the floor as he moved through the shared home.

In the living room, Sero quickly adjusted the air conditioner, setting it on a low temperature. He wanted to ensure that you and Denki wouldn't overheat if you needed the heating pad later. If there was one thing Sero hated after a long day, it was waking up sticky with sweat- and it sure wasn't going to make your night any easier either,

Moving to the kitchen, Sero opened the fridge door, the soft hum of the cooling system filling the air. He reached in and retrieved a spherical bubbler, its glass cool to the touch. He filled it with chilled water, the liquid cascading down and forming a thin layer of frost on the glass.

He turned his attention to the electric tea kettle, filling it with filtered water from the sink. The sound of rushing water filled the kitchen as he closed the fridge door with a quick motion of his elbow. Balancing the bubbler and the electric tea kettle, Sero carefully made his way back to the shared bedroom. He placed both items on the nightstand next to you, within easy reach.

Denki watched as you tried to move towards the nightstand. But before you could reach your destination, a painful cramp halted you in your tracks. “Whoa, easy there, girlie” he murmured softly, his voice filled with concern. He quickly shifted behind you, wrapping his arms around your abdomen and gently scooting you back between his legs.

The blond focused his quirk to create a soothing current that coursed through your stomach. As the gentle energy flowed, you let out a shaky sigh, pain slowly dulling. It wasn't a complete cure, but the relief was enough to take the edge off, to make the agony more bearable. “Ooh, I love you, Denks” With a grateful sigh, you relaxed against his chest, feeling the warmth he radiated seep into your body. His lips brushed against the side of your neck, the soft lingering kisses sending tingles down your spine.

“See- now you're gonna make me jealous” Sero teased as he placed a tea tray on the nightstand next to the kettle and the bubbler. The wooden tray held three elegant black and gold teacups, an array of different tea bags, and a small jar- everything you'd need for a night like this.

“Be useful, sparky” Sero teased playfully as he dangled the cord of the electric kettle in front of Denki's face. The electric hero snatched the cord between his teeth, his eyes narrowing in feigned annoyance at the jab.

“I was being useful” Denki mumbled around the cord, his words muffled but his the mock indignation in his tone was clear as day. He bit down, letting his quirk flow through the cord, his cheeks puffing out slightly as electricity crackled and buzzed between his lips. The kettle responded instantly, a soft whirring sound filling the room as the water inside began to heat up

Leaning back against Denki's firm chest, you couldn't help but smile at the playful banter between the two men who meant the world to you. You reached up to stroke the buzzing blond's cheek affectionately. “Don't listen to Hanta, love. He’s just riling you up to boil the water quicker” you chuckled.

You turned your gaze toward Sero, giving him a scolding look that was more endearing than intimidating. Denki, meanwhile, maintained his mock glare at him, the corners of his mouth twitching in a barely contained smirk. The kettle's water began to bubble a little quicker, responding to the surge of electricity from his quirk.

Hanta just laughed, his deep voice resonating through the room as he watched your bratty display. “You two are only cuter when you pout” he chuckled, grinding the medical cannabis from the jar.

You tried to remain comfortable, leaning against Denki's supportive body, his hands providing a soothing hum of electricity over your abdomen. Yet, the relentless wave of another cramp hit, wrenching another pained whimper from you as you instantly doubled over at the waist again. His arms tensed around you, trying to provide some comfort, but the pain was beyond intense. The kettle's chime signaled the water had reached its boiling point, and Denki promptly spat out the cord, his face twisted in distaste at the metallic tang that lingered in his mouth. Sero quickly filled the teacups, the steam rising in gentle spirals. Yours was filled with red raspberry leaf tea, a natural remedy for cramps. Meanwhile he sank constant comment into the cups for he and Denki.

With the teacups set aside to allow the tea to steep, Sero turned his attention to the chilled glass, holding it up to you. “Mana potion is up first” he teased, invoking the dorky inside joke- one of many that had become a cherished part of your relationship.

Sero lit the bubbler as you deeply inhaled the smoke carrying the promise of pain relief. Your lungs filled with the herbal remedy. A sense of calm began to spread through your body as the pain-relieving properties of the medical cannabis took effect, bringing a welcome break from the relentless cramps.

Denki's hands lingered over your stomach, his fingers delivering the faintest current, just enough to mimic the sensation of a TENS unit. Each kiss he planted on the nape of your neck and the curve of your shoulder was tinged with a tiny spark. The cannabis amplifying the sensation to a delightful tickle that coaxed giggles from you. You shimmied backwards closer into his embrace, the warmth of his chest providing comfort as the medicinal effects began to ease your pain.

“You too, Denks, don't want you to stress yourself into a seizure” Sero piped up, his concern clear despite the teasing undertone. You ducked down, as he brought the bubbler to Denki's lips. A silent offer of relief for the empathetic hero who had been fretting over your pain all night.

The blond took a deep inhale, but firmly pulled Sero forward, sharing the smoke with him in an instant. As the smoke passed between them, Denki's lips crashed against Sero's in a rough kiss, quirk sending a tingly static shock to Hanta's snakebite piercings. Sero's kiss grew more aggressive as he held onto the smoke, caught between the need to exhale and the desire to keep kissing his boyfriend.

Finally breaking the fiery kiss, Sero leaned back, his hands firmly planted on the mattress to support himself. A smug expression spread across his face, as a thin tendril of smoke escaped his lips into the air between them.

Your eyes followed him as he pulled back from the intense kiss with Denki. “Now I'M the one getting jealous” you teased, only to be interrupted by another wave of pain. Denki responded with tender nuzzles against your shoulder, trying to comfort you through the lingering pain. Sero turned his attention back to the steeped tea. “Here, beautiful, health potion” he said, offering the teacup filled with the raspberry leaf concoction with a wink. A perfect cup of tea for your situation.

Turning to Denki, Sero handed him his own cup of spiced tea, subtly telling him it was his turn to relax as well. “Thanks, I can still taste the brass from the plug” the blonde muttered, his face contorting into a grimace as he stuck his tongue out.

Denki settled back against the soft support of the headboard, the warmth from the spiced tea gently seeping into his tense muscles. His left hand remained protectively curled around your hip, maintaining the comforting electric touch over your stomach.

Sero held his own teacup steady, the amber liquid barely moving as he maneuvered his way into his designated spot next to you. With a gentle stretch of his arm, Sero placed your now-empty teacup onto the bedside table with a quiet clink. Slipping under the soft covers, he found his place next to you and Denki. The three of you finally settled into your usual sleeping arrangement.

With the pain finally subsiding, your voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the room. “I'm sorry, guys…. This wasn't how I wanted to spend Valentine's Day night with you” you confessed wearily. Sero wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Denki, rested his head on the taller hero's shoulder, settling in closer for the night.

“Don't worry about it” Denki yawned with sleepy affection. “Any Valentine's Day I get to see you two is a good one” Sero chimed in, his words carrying the same sentiment. As the weight of the night's events began to lift, you felt your eyes grow heavy, the fatigue finally catching up. With a sense of peace, you drifted off to sleep, cradled between the two people you loved most in the world.

And, really, is there any better ending to Valentine's Day than that?

Author's Note: Struggled with describing the scene I saw in my head, sorry it didn't come out quite the way I wanted ^^; I just really like the comfortable rhythm that comes with being in a committed relationship for awhile.

Tags: @neon-gothicc @dcsiremc @bakubunny

#zaz drabbles #minors dni #sero x reader #hanta x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #denki x reader #kaminari x reader #period comfort #comfort fic #cw smoking #cw shotgunning #cw periods #cw cannabis #zaz scheduled shenanigans

93 notes · View notes