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#oh well. probably wasn’t even the right height anyways
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Have to skip flamenco classes tomorrow. Overestimated just how much my hips and knee could take doing the Fight Club yesterday and am now In Pain
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years
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Arms Race
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: Peter picks up on the fact that you have a thing for his arms
Masterlist
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“Which one of you blooming onions wants to arm wrestle a god and lose?” Thor asked as he cracked his knuckles before slamming his elbow down on the table. Everyone rolled their eyes with affection while and you Peter continued your game of cards.
“Oh come on. No one’s up for the challenge?” Thor asked and flexed his arm.
Peter noticed you flick your eyes up for just a second at Thors arms before smiling shyly to yourself. This sent an unexpected wave of jealousy down to Peters stomach. He knew nobody on the team was as big or as strong as Thor but seeing you look at him like that made Peter feel like he might have some competition for your attention. He knew it was probably silly to even think about, but part of him was worried Thor would win you over before Peter had a chance to tell you how he felt. Before he knew was he was doing, he was putting his hand of cards down.
“I’ll give it a go.” Peter said and went over to Thor.
“Really? You want to compete, spider boy?” Thor smirked and out his elbow back down on the table.
“Why not? You know, some spiders can lift up to 170 times their weight. And if you calibrate that for a human in accordance to my height and weight, I can lift up to 25,000 pounds. So I’m not as weak as I look.” Peter explained as he rolled up his sleeves.
“Kids right. I’ve seen him catch a bus.” Steve backed Peter up.
“Well I’ve seen him kick Buckys ass.” Sam added with a smirk.
“Shut up. I was having an off day.” Bucky grumbled.
“Have you ever had an on day?” Sam snorted.
“He was definitely on the night he killed my parents.” Tony said casually. Everyone fell into uncomfortable silence as Tony waited for someone to laugh at his joke.
“Anyways.” You said to break the silence. “Peters stronger than you guys give him credit for. I’d love to see him take on Thor.”
Peter smiled proudly to hear you back him up and gave Thor a look that said it was up to him.
“All right. Come here and grab the hand of the mighty Thor.” Thor said and held his hand out.
“Does he always talk like that?” Shang Chi whispered to Steve.
“It’s slowly been getting worse.” Steve whispered back.
Now that Peter knew he had your attention, he wasn’t gonna waste it. He rolled his sleeves back down and unzipped his sweatshirt.
“Oooo. Jackets coming off.” Tony clapped his hands. Underneath Peters sweatshirt was a flannel shirt, making Tony stop clapping.
“To reveal a slightly lighter jacket.” Tony continued. Peter then unbuttoned his flannel and threw it at you to catch. You caught it and held it to your chest as your face heated up.
“Ohhh. Now we’re talking.” Tony clapped his hands again now that Peter was just in a tight white T-shirt. You gulped at the sight of his arms, something you knew you’d never get used to no matter how many times you saw them. You watched with a hand over your mouth as Peter and Thor wrapped their opposite hands around each others and glared into each others eyes.
“You’re going down.” Peter warned.
“The only time I go down is on a-“ Thor was cut off by the sound of his hand hitting the table. Everyone was stunned to silence as they watched Peter win with ease. You raised your eyebrows in surprised and made eye contact with Peter, who winked at you.
“No fair. I wasn’t ready.” Thor scoffed.
“All right. Then let’s go again.” Peter shrugged and held his hand up again. They started to arm wrestle and it lasted longer this time as Thor was determined not to be shown up. Peter started to overpower Thor and was just about to win when Thor sent an electric wave through Peters body. Peters body went limp long enough for Thor to pin his hand and win.
As you watched this all unfold, you were sitting on the edge of your seat, jaw dropped and eyed glued to Peters bicep. Sam was the first to noticed your face and chuckled as he got the others attention to look at you. Once Thor won, you looked visibly disappointed that the gun show was over.
“As a surprise to no one, you lost.” Thor chuckled. “But you put up a good fight, my boy.”
“You too. Damn. What’s that smell?” Peter asked as he shook out his throbbing hand.
“Your burning flesh.” Thor said with a smile. “Anyone else want a go?”
“I think Y/n wants a turn.” Sam snickered, and everyone murmured in agreement.
“Oh yeah? You dare to wrestle the arm of a god, lady Y/n?” Thor asked and flexed his arm again.
“No, but she definitely wants to wrestle with Peter.” Sam said, making you finally tear your eyes away from Peters arms.
“Huh?” You and Peter asked at the same time.
“Yeah. I saw that too. She wants to wrestle Peter all right.” Tony added with a devious smile.
“Not an arm wrestle either.” Natasha added.
“Nope.” Sam agreed. “She wants to do the sweaty kind of wrestling.”
“Isn’t all wrestling the sweaty kind of wrestling?” Peter asked, still not sure what everyone was saying.
“Wow Y/n. I hope you’re proud of yourself for thinking such dirty thoughts about such an innocent boy.” Tony pretended to be offended as he wrapped an arm around Peters shoulders.
“What? I wasn’t.” You laughed nervously.
“What are you guys talking about?” Peter asked.
“We’re talking about how Y/n was just staring at your arms the way Bucky stares at spinach and artichoke dip.” Natasha said simply.
“Fucking love spinach and artichoke dip.” Bucky deadpanned.
“I was not staring at Peters arms.” You insisted and everyone rolled their eyes at you.
“Yes you were. The second that flannel came off, you were drooling.” Sam shrugged.
“It’s true. I saw drool.” Steve agree.
“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. I was not drooling.” You scoffed and wiped the remaining drool off your chin.
“Then why is there drool on the floor?” Steve asked and pointed to the floor where you had been sitting. Sure enough, there was a little puddle of drool on the ground.
“That’s pee.” You scoffed, instantly regretting it.
“You peed?” Sam asked with furrowed eyebrows.
“I did pee, yes.” You nodded reluctantly.
“On the floor?”
“Uh, yep. On the floor.” You confirmed and wished you had come up with a better lie.
“Let me get this straight. You’d rather let us believe you peed on the floor than admit you were staring at Peters arms?” Steve asked you.
“I guess so, yeah.” You sighed, disappointed in yourself.
“Well alright then.”
“I’m gotta go.” You said and quickly left the room. Peter stared at you as you went, wondering how much of what they had been saying was true. If you really were into his arms, it might be his way to finally get your relationship to the next level.
You ran into Peter an hour later in the kitchen and wanted to run and hide but he had already spotted you. You gave him an embarrassed smile and went over to him.
“Sorry about before. Sam and Bucky are so annoying sometimes.” You said with a roll of your eyes.
“Trust me, I know. They’re always teasing me about something or another. I’ve learned to tune it out.”
“I’ll have to try that.” You smiled softly at him, glad he wasn’t making things weird. Peter returned the smile and you felt the always tension melt away. It didn’t hurt that his arms were covered up again so you could actually talk to him without making a fool of yourself.
“By the way, you totally would’ve won if Thor didn’t cheat.” You told him.
“I don’t know. I’m strong but he’s a God.”
“Yeah, well, you’re like a mini god. The spider god.” You said with a teasing smile.
“So a god that no one but Wilbur would worship?” Peter humored you.
“Who’s Wilbur?”
“From Charlottes Web. Duh.” Peter scoffed.
“Oh. Right.” You playfully rolled your eyes but felt relieved you could move past the arm incident. Just then, Peter rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands in the sink, giving you a view of his veins and-
“Forearms.” You whispered to yourself as you started to drool again.
“Did you say something?” Peter asked as he turned the water off.
“Hm? Oh, no. I didn’t say anything.” You quickly lied and wiped your bottom lip.
“Oh. Okay.” Peter chuckled and pushed his sleeves down. Peter noticed the way your eyes stayed glued to his arms and he started to wonder if there was any truth to what the team was saying before. He decided to test his theory and see if you really did like his arms.
“You know what I was just thinking about? You and I never got to arm wrestle.”
“You want to?” You raised your eyebrows.
“Only if you’re up for it.” Peter shrugged.
“Okay.” You said immediately and shoved everything off the kitchen table. Peter chuckled and sat across from you before taking off his flannel.
“You ready?” He asked and held out his hand.
“Uh huh.” You sighed dreamily and slipped your hand into his. You were so focused on his arms that you forgot you were arm wrestling.
“Come on. You didn’t even try.” Peter laughed once he pinned your hand to the table.
“Hubbity bubbity.” You mumbled as you stared at his bicep.
“What was that?”
“Humina humina humina.” You whispered.
“Are you using real words?” Peter chuckled. You snapped out of your trance and quickly stood up.
“I have to go.” You said and ran out of the kitchen. Peter smiled proudly to himself and looked down to flex his muscles. Now that he knew you had a thing for his arms, he decided to have a little fun with it.
A few days later, you were getting ready for one of Tony’s famous parties and decided to wear heels. You walked out of your room to meet up with Peter and found yourself tripping on every crease in the carpet. You knocked on his door and he soon opened up wearing a tight button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You froze when you caught sight of his arms and quickly looked away before you lost focus.
“You look nice. You ready?” You asked him.
“Yep. Let’s go.” Peter put his hand on your back and started to lead you downstairs to the party.
“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna break a leg before we even get there.” You said as you tripped on the carpet once again.
“Here. Take my arm for support.” Peter offered and presented his arm.
“Take…your…arm?” You asked slowly as you stared at his arms.
“Why did you say it like that?” Peter chuckled but knew exactly why.
“No reason. Thanks.” You smiled and slipped a hand around Peters bicep to steady yourself. Even once you were downstairs at the party and didn’t need to hold onto Peter anymore, you didn’t let go of his arm. Peter smiled to himself and patted your hand, hoping you weren’t letting go anytime soon.
A couple days went by without any opportunities for Peter show off his arms in front of you. But when you padded into the kitchen while everyone else was watching a movie, he came up with something.
“Hey kiddo. We were just gonna watch a movie. Care or join us?” Tony asked from the couch.
“Sure.” You smiled and took a seat next to Peter. Peter looked over at you before clearing his throat to get your attention.
“Wanna share my blanket?” Peter offered and opened his blanket up.
“Thanks.” You smiled shyly and scooted closer to him so he could cover you with the blanket. He noticed you sitting up perfectly straight and nudged you a little.
“You can lean on me. I don’t mind.” He whispered to you.
“Are you sure?” You whispered back.
“Yeah. Go ahead.” He shrugged. As soon as you had his permission, you rested your face on his bicep and nuzzled against it.
“Are you comfortable?” He asked with a teasing smile.
“Extremely.” You sighed happily.
Riding off the high of the night before, Peter hit the training room for an early morning workout and sent you a text shortly after to inconspicuously lure you into the room.
“Do you know where Peter is? He texted me and asked for a bottle of water.” You asked Shang Chi as you grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator.
“I saw him in the training room a couple minutes ago.” He told you.
“K. Thanks.” You rolled the water bottle around in your hands and went to go find Peter.
“Hey, Pete. I brought your…” You trailed off and dropped the water bottle when you walked into the training room to see Peter shirtless, sweating, and doing pull-ups.
“Oh hey. Come on in.” He smiled at you without stopping his pull-ups.
“Heyyyyyyy Pete.” You smiled weakly and leaned against the door frame.
“-er. Peter.” You finished his name. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Just working out. It’s arms day.” He told you as he continued to pull himself up and down. Your eyes followed him as he pulled himself up and lowered himself back back.
“Is it?” You squeaked out.
“Yeah. I’m trying to grow my arms to look more like Thors.”
“Uh huh. That’s nice.” You nodded too many times without ever taking your eyes off his arms. Peter let go of the pull up bar and dropped to the floor so he could walk closer to you.
“I’ve been trying to gain muscle for a while now but I don’t think it’s working. Does it look like it’s working?” Peter asked as he flexed his arms for you to see. Your body stiffened and you felt your mouth starting to salivate.
“Oh this is definitely working.” You said in a low voice.
“What?” Peter played dumb.
“What?” You said and finally tore your eyes away from his arms long enough to look into his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Peter asked innocently as he folded his arms, drawing more attention to them.
“Everything’s great. I gotta go. Thanks for the water.” You said and turned to leave.
“You’re the one who brought me water. And what’s the rush? I haven’t seen you all day. Come here.” Peter laughed as he caught your arm.
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t want to hug me. I’m riddled with…riddles.” You struggled to come up with a lie and took a step away from him.
“Come on. Bring it in.” Peter said and opened his arms to you.
“If you insist.” You immediately folded and rushed into his arms. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around you, your knees felt weak and your heart beat out of your chest.
“Never let me go.” You sighed against his chest.
“What was that?”
“I said how did training go?” You quickly lied and pulled out of the hug.
“Pretty good. Soon enough, I’ll be able to beat Thor at our next arm wrestling match. But I’m definitely gaining strength. Watch this.” Peter smirked before picking up the water bottle before putting it between his bicep and squeezing it until the cap popped off. You jumped when the cap flew off and let out a little whimper.
“Cool huh?” Peter asked you.
“God I wish that was me.” You whispered.
“Did you say something?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“Oh, okay. I think my biceps are definitely getting bigger. What do you think?” He asked and turned slightly so you could feel his bicep. Your eyes flickered between his arm and his face several times to see if he was serious.
“You want me to touch it?”
“Yeah. Just to see if it’s gotten bigger or firmer.”
“Okay. Let me see.” You smiled weakly and put a hand on his bicep. You felt like the biggest cliche in the entire world but you didn’t care. You knew if you left your hand there for any longer you’d never be able to take it off.
“Feels good.” You said lowly. “Feels big and…firm.”
“Really?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Like a perfectly pumped up bicycle tire.” You whispered as shivered went down your spine.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” You said and quickly withdrew your hand.
“Oh, weird. I thought I heard something. Anyway, I’m hoping to get them even bigger.” Peter said and flexed his arm again.
“Uh huh. Good plan. Gotta go. Bye!” You said and quickly ran out of the room.
“Oh. Okay. Bye!” Peter called after you.
You made it outside the training room but didn’t walk away. Instead. You took out your phone, pressured record, and slowly leaned into the doorway to film Peters workout.
“This is normal behavior.” You whispered to yourself as you watched him do push-ups through the recording.
“You’ve entered your Joe Goldberg era I see.” Shang Chi said from behind you, making you jump.
“Ah! What? I don’t even know who that is.” You said and quickly hide your phone.
“You haven’t seen You?”
“I looked in the mirror like ten minutes ago. Why? Do I have lipstick in my teeth?” You asked and rubbed your teeth.
“Not you you. The show You. It’s about a dude who stalks women and then kills them. But he’s also very likable and charming and I often root for him even though if he was real he’d probably hit me over the head with a rock and burry me behind a Starbucks.” Shang Chi explained.
“Huh?”
“Do I have to worry about you killing Peter?” He asked you with genuine concern.
“No. I’m just a normal teenage girl with a normal teenage crush.” You said simply.
“Aren’t you in your 20s?” He frowned.
“I have to go.” You said quickly and ran to your bedroom. You shut your door and sighed before pulling out your phone. You watched the video you had taken of Peter and grimaced.
“This was not very cool and mysterious romantic interest of me.” You sighed and deleted the video.
“Y/n? Can I come in?” Peter asked as he knocked on your door. You panicked as he started to open the door and stayed behind it instead of moving out of the way.
“Are you in here?” Peter called out, making you slid out from behind the door.
“Hey.” You said with an awkward smile.
“Hey. What were you doing back there?” Peter chuckled and shut your bedroom door. He had a shirt on this time, but it was a skin tight grey tank top that left little to the imagination.
“It’s a girl thing.” You said with a wave of your hand.
“Oh, okay.” He smiled. “Do you think we could talk about something?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“I feel like things have been a little….weird between us lately. Maybe not weird, but different? Have you felt that too?”
“Yeah. I know what you’re talking about. And I know what it is. It’s my fault.” You sighed and sat on your bed.
“What’s going on?” Peter asked and took a seat beside you. You picked at your nail polish to avoid making eye contact but were extremely aware of his arms brushing against yours.
“Ever since the arm wrestling match, I have made a personal self discover.” You said without looking at him.
“Which is?”
“That I wanna chew on your arms.”
“Come again?” Peter asked and leaned his ear towards you.
“Ugh. I’m such a freak.” You groaned and covered your face with your hands. “I have no right to objectify you like this. I just didn’t realize you were packing so much ammunition in your guns.”
“So this has been about my arms the whole time?” Peter played dumb.
“Yeah. I can’t stop staring at them no matter how hard I try. They’re like the most perfect pair of avocados. I just want to slice them open and eat the insides with a spoon.”
“You had me and then you lost me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m such a weirdo. I shouldn’t have been looking at you like that.” You said with a guilty frown. Peter felt bad for toying with you all this time and let out a sigh.
“It’s not your fault. I kinda figured you had a thing for my arms so I’ve been purposefully showing them off.” He admitted.
“You have? Why?”
“To get you to notice me.” He said without looking into your eyes.
“I always notice you.” You chuckled like it was obvious.
“You do?” He asked as a blushed spread across his face. You looked at Peter for a second before getting an idea.
“Do you want a rematch of our arm wrestle?” You asked and placed a pillow on your lap so you could balance your elbow on it.
“Now? I guess so.” Peter frowned in confusion but took your hand with his opposite one.
“You ready?”
“Ready.” Peter nodded. You started to press against each other hands and once Peter was fully distracted, you leaned across your hands and kissed him. Peters arm went limp as he kissed you back and brought his free hand to cup your face. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against his as you both laughed shyly.
“Hey. I won.” You realized once you saw your hand was on top of Peters pinned hand.
“Nah.” He smiled. “I did.”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl
@jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow
@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever
@undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild
@canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman
@smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger
@electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @horanxholland
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
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breadbrobin · 9 months
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the trees
clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
summary: you have a very specific skill set that helps your team with capture the flag, and clarisse thinks it’s fascinating. in fact, she thinks you’re as fascinating as you think she is.
warnings: swearing, arguments, fighting, PINING, heights i guess (reader is up a tree), possibly ooc clarisse but not too much i hope.
word count: 2.5k
(so the brainrot has (inevitably) spread to clarisse. there’s gonna be a part two to this as well, so lmk if y’all want it (tbh i’ll probably post it anyway but still). oh and also i love her and i am a clarisse apologist and lover until the day i die)
(sort-of-enemies to sort-of-lovers, but more like idiots to pining idiots (in a tree))
(part 2 here)
———————————————
archery wasn’t the only thing you were good at, but it was by far the best thing you were good at. a daughter of apollo: master of archery, mediocre of music and magical at making weird ass noises. bird calls, animal sounds, imitations—you name it, you could do it.
and those were useful tactics in capture the flag, for sure.
annabeth chase was a master strategist, and you had to give it to her: she remembered everyone’s strengths, weaknesses and alliances while you couldn’t even remember what you’d had for breakfast that day.
as always, you were tucked up in a tree, around halfway up. you weren’t too high, so that you could speak and people wouldn’t automatically know you were above them, but you weren’t too low so they couldn’t see you.
you kind of liked being in the trees now. after three years of capture the flag and around six months of freaking out every time you climbed above ten feet, you were finally used to it. it was almost calming; a way for you to relax after a stressful day and pretend that nothing around you existed.
until the red team came by, that is.
that’s what you were waiting for. the flag was around fifty feet to your right. your job was to be a lookout and a distraction.
it was your favourite part of the game, getting to trick people and shoot arrows at them when they came too close, allowing the blue team members around the bottom of your tree to pop out and disarm their opponents.
it wasn’t a trick you used every time—not even the ares cabin are that stupid—but when you did use it, you had the time of your life.
there was a snapping branch to your left. you straightened up from where you were leaning against the tree trunk behind you and peered through the leaves. you were perched on a thick bough, hidden by leaves and branches, but able to see enough through them that you could do your job.
you could hear voices, but you couldn’t see anyone.
you listened carefully. you knew that voice.
you realised with a start who it was.
clarisse la rue.
fucking clarisse, man. she drove you insane. and not for the reason she drove most of camp insane. no, unlike almost everyone else, you were attracted to her. in fact, you were, annoyingly, in love with her, you’d have to admit. it was infuriating.
you could hear her cutting through the forest. it was strange. she didn’t usually come for the flag. usually, she hunted in the woods and caught stragglers. she didn’t want the glory as much as she wanted the fight. to her, winning the battle seemed more important than winning the war.
regardless of why, you could hear her voice. she was talking to her siblings below you, creeping through the foliage.
the sun was warm on your face and you send up a brief prayer to your father.
from your lips slipped an almost perfect impression of your blue team guards. you’d used this trick last game, but clarisse hadn’t been there, so she wouldn’t know. “i can’t believe they put us on guard duty again.”
they all froze in their tracks, looking at each other, then ahead in the opposite direction from the flag.
you held in a snicker. “ugh, yeah, it’s the worst. i mean, why can’t we do anything fun? i wanna fight clarisse!”
you could see the smirk curling on her lips and you had to stop yourself from blushing.
you continued this cat and mouse game. the ares kids below you fanned out, aiming to surround you. it would have been a smart move, if there was actually a flag there and not just a tree.
slowly, they inched in, then leapt out.
“ahh!! you caught us! i’ve been impaled!”
they looked around in fear and confusion but clarisse looked straight up. she always did.
“hey, angel, nice voice,” she mocked. “wanna come on down?”
you shook your head. “no, thanks, i’m comfortable.”
she raised and eyebrow, seeing your arrow drawn and pointed directly at her. “that’s not necessary.”
“isn’t it?” your arrow flew and, though she hit it away, you teammates came pouring out of the foliage, having been waiting for your signal.
a fight ensued. it looked like it was going well for a short while, then the tides turned.
they weren’t as caught off guard as they usually were. hell, clarisse was even smiling!
with what looked like very little effort, the ares campers effectively destroyed your teammates. they were left disarmed and defeated, and you were stuck in a tree. typical.
as her siblings took their weapons, clarisse looked up at you. “you wanna come down now?”
you shook your head. “rather not. the view from up here is pretty good.”
she muttered something to herself, but you couldn’t hear her. then she spoke up. “what if we come up there?”
you drew your bow back immediately and an arrow pierced the dirt right in front of her foot.
she looked down at it, then back up at you, an amused smirk on her face. “right, silly me.”
that surprised you. she was usually cold and cruel in capture the flag, always taking no prisoners and leaving no survivors—in a technical sense. you’d seen people nursing their minor wounds after the games when your siblings forced you to help out in the infirmary (not that you’re much help in there, but regardless), and everyone heard the stories they’d tell of clarisse appearing out of the ferns and attacking ruthlessly. so why was she not being so ruthless today?
she was certainly cruel in her fight against your team members, but any other day, she would have thrown her spear at you or thrown one of your arrows back, or even climbed up anyway. instead, she just smirked up at you, content to wait.
“where’s the flag, bows?” she asked, using a nickname she’d only used a few times, one that referenced both the bows you used and the bows you sometimes put in your hair.
you shrugged. “dunno. they don’t tell me anything. i just get out here and told to be annoying.” your traitorous eyes flickered to the direction of the flag. you’d never been good at lying.
and curse her, clarisse noticed. she always noticed when it came to you, it seemed. whether it was catching you in a lie, catching you when you were admiring her or catching your every move when sparring, she always noticed.
she nodded at her siblings and they moved off. “i’ll wait here. try and flush our squirrel out.”
if they were confused or surprised, they didn’t show it.
once they were gone, clarisse plucked the arrow from the dirt and studied it. “this is new.”
“sam from hephaestus made them,” you said meekly. why would she stay behind? it didn’t make sense. you weren’t a threat, or even a good fight.
her face darkened. “oh. and where is your boyfriend now, then? hm?”
your cheeks flamed. “he’s not my boyfriend.” and it was true. he wasn’t. despite the fact that he liked you and made things for you all the time, your heart was decidedly with another. and she was right below you, tossing your prized arrow aside like an old tissue. “he’s on your team anyway. you should know where he is.”
she smirked again. “oh, yeah. i remember now. that’s right, i sent him to try and get our flag. he didn’t even make it five steps before he was attacked.”
her bitter laugh made your heart clench. was it pity for sam or your feelings for her, or both? you weren’t sure. either way, it was starting to get on your nerves.
it was silent for a long time. she looked up at you every few seconds, then at the tree, like she was gauging how hard she’d have to push you for you to die on impact. her eyes were sharp and her smile was sharper, and fuck you were attracted to her.
you cleared your throat and broke the silence, hearing fighting off in the near distance. you would go and help, but the only way for you to do so would be to tree-hop all the way to the flag, and while you could do it, it wasn’t the best idea. “why did you stay h—what are you doing?” you aimed an arrow at her.
“relax, angel, we both know you won’t actually shoot me.” she was climbing up the tree. fast. “and don’t worry, i’m not gonna push you out or attack you. i don’t like looking up at you.”
call you stupid or whipped or whatever, but you believed her. you lowered your bow but didn’t lessen the tension on your string. she’d almost reached your branch when you swivelled around to face her. you moved fast, your arrow returning to its holster and you body facing the trunk of the tree with your legs swung over each side of the wide bough. your dagger was swiftly removed from its holster and pressed under clarisse’s chin.
she laughed at you.
you faltered slightly. “what?”
“nothing,” she snickered. “i just saw it coming. now scoot back.”
you dropped your dagger and shifted backwards, glad the bough was strong.
she clambered onto your branch easily, sitting facing you with her back against the tree trunk, a smirk on her face.
you sighed bitterly. “you see everything coming.”
she shrugged. “pretty much. but so do you.”
“that’s the gift of divine premonition,” you grumbled. it could be useful sometimes, but all you really got was a sense, a feeling or, occasionally, a single frame of a moment. right now, though, your senses were so clogged with her vanilla-strawberry and leather scent, and with her, that you could hardly think, let alone experience a minor prophecy. not to mention the fact that if you did, you’d probably fall out of the tree.
she shrugged. “isn’t that useful?”
“yeah, when it actually works or doesn’t make me pass out.” you shrugged. “it’s temperamental.”
she hummed in thought, leaning back and crossing her arms. her knees were mere centimetres from yours.
“what are you doing up here, clarisse?” you asked.
she shrugged, but you could see a shift in her demeanour when she said your name. it was like the muscles in her shoulders relaxed for a moment, then tensed again. “didn’t want you to escape.”
“so you let your other prisoners escape?” you gestured to the ground, where your teammates were sitting around fifteen feet from the tree in a circle, plucking the grass.
clarisse raised her eyebrows at you in amusement. “oh, i think they’re fine. they’re too scared of me to do anything, anyway.”
you narrowed your eyes at her. “i don’t think you’re that scary.”
she rolled her eyes. “sure. but everyone else does. so you’re wrong.”
“it was my opinion. my opinion can’t be wrong if it’s my opinion.” that was another thing: you were never one to start an argument, but by god would you escalate it.
“your opinions wrong if i say it’s wrong,” she huffed, her jaw tight.
“not how opinions work, babe,” you said lightly, using your dagger point to carve away at the bark beneath you.
she smacked your hand to stop you. “you’re gonna dull it!”
“the point is already dull!” you protested, poking your finger to show her. it indented, but didn’t draw blood. “see?”
“so, what, you threatened me with a butter knife? i’m offended.”
“it’s the idea of it that cuts deeper anyway. the primal fear of being gutted by a dagger. in capture the flag at least.” you shrugged, carving a wonky flower in the bark. “it’s more about threats than action.”
clarisse rolled her eyes. “and what if a monster comes and attacks you, and all you’ve got is this blunt dagger?”
“you ever seen an archers muscles?” you turned slightly and flexed your shoulders. you could see her eyes follow the sharp lines of your shoulders and back. “i’ll use force. force is more effective than sharpness. you know that.”
“and yet, my weapons are all still sharp.” she snatched the dagger from you and pulled out a whetstone from a pocket in her cargo pants. she began sharpening your blade.
“hey, don’t—“
she smacked your hand with the flat of your own blade when you reached for it, and you withdrawn with a hiss, shaking your hand. she laughed. “i guess force is more important, huh, angel?”
your cheeks were hot. “don’t call me that.”
“why, you worried you might like it?” she looked up, teasing. her eyes narrowed at the look on your face and then she grinned. “you do like it.”
“no. shut up.”
she laughed again, but it was a little softer than usual. she looked back down at the dagger. “did sam make this for you?”
“yeah, w—clarisse!” you gasped as she dropped it off the bough. or, more accurately, threw it off the bough. “what was that for?”
she shrugged. “it’s not that good. i’ll get you a better one from the ares stash. don’t worry.”
you glared at her. “that was mine, though!”
“it was blunt and poorly made,” she protested. “it wasn’t good enough for you.”
the way she said it made you think there was a double meaning there.
“he’s not good enough for you,” she said, softer, proving you right.
your eyes were wide and your cheeks were flaming. “what?”
“you heard me.” her softness was staying, it seemed. if you weren’t mistaken, her hand was reaching for yours. “he’s not. you know he’s not. why do you like him?”
before you could respond, a horn blew in the distance and cheering erupted from around the forest. red team had won.
clarisse didn’t look happy. she leaned back—you hadn’t even realised she’d leaned forward—and glared at the bough between you both.
“congratulations,” you said softly. “you deserved the win.”
“yeah, we did.” her voice carried very little enthusiasm.
you studied her face for a minute, like you were committing every feature to memory. “clarisse…”
she didn’t respond. instead, she swung her leg over the bough and started climbing down. only when she got two branches down did you begin to follow her, hurrying in your attempt to catch up. you couldn’t. no matter how good you were at something, she was better.
she nodded at you as she walked off, your foot caught in a tight spot.
once you’d finally got down, your teammates were surrounding you. some asked you what had happened, some accused you of being a double agent for them, some asked if you were okay.
you answered them all absently as you all walked back towards the stream, but your heart wasn’t in it. what the hell was going on?
you’d reached the stream by the time you realised you’d left your dagger behind, and you were back at your cabin, trying to fall asleep, when you realised that it didn’t bother you at all.
(part 2)
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lacroixqueen · 2 months
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i'm so chill but you make me jealous jealous deadpool x fem!reader, 18+
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Summary: deadpool sees you on a date with another guy and loses his shit lol
Pairing: jealous deadpool x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings/Tags: jealousy, possessive, angst, brat, noncon, dubcon
You were trying to figure out the fastest way to get out of this dumpster fire of a date. This is what you get for putting yourself out there, by the fervent advice of both your mother and entire social circle. So you went ahead and downloaded a dating app out of sheer boredom but also a tiny glimmer of hope. After quite a number of left swipes and a small handful of rights, you somehow wound up across the dinner table with… er, you forgot his name already. 
But you knew he worked in finance. Or was it accounting? Anyways, he was currently explaining the intricacies of the stock market to you, and the appetizer hasn’t even come out yet. And you realized that you couldn’t care any less. 
“I.. have to go to the bathroom,” you said, standing up quickly and pushing in your chair. Your date almost didn’t seem to notice, giving you a half-hearted acknowledgement and then continuing to drabble on to himself about cryptocurrency. 
Without another word, you darted to the nearest exit of the restaurant, finding yourself on the freshly rained-on sidewalk. You always loved the smell of the concrete after it had just rained. 
Your heels made a satisfying click-clack sound as you briskly maneuvered your way down the street. You opened up your texts to see if you missed anything during the god-awful date, and lo and behold, was a message from none other than Wade.
“Love the dress,” it read. 
You glanced behind you, then side to side, and once you turned back around, there he was, leaning against the side of the cornerstore. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked, barely turning towards him before directing your attention back to your phone and continuing to walk past him. 
“Ohhhh, so it’s ice cold today,” he commented, following right behind you. “I love that flavor.”
“What do you want,” you said while texting a friend about how disastrously the date went. “I am just going home.”
“Well, I was just walking by when I caught a glimpse of you through the window of that Italian restaurant back there,” the assassin replied. “Speaking of which, what was on the menu? I mean that place looked upscale! Like they probably sprinkle gold dust on their pasta instead of parmesan.”
It was an Olive Garden.
“To be blunt, I honestly forgot,” you responded. “I didn’t even eat anything.”
“Well, why did you leave so early?” he pried, this obviously piquing his attention now.
“I-I felt sick,” you lied, your intonation increasing as quickly as your apprehension. “Can we just change the subject, please?”
“Oh ho ho,” Deadpool chuckled, as if he struck gold. “That bad? I mean, I didn’t get a great look at the guy, but from what I saw, he wasn’t terrible-looking. Also, he wore a fleece vest. I mean, that’s just the height of fashion, you really can’t get any better than that.”
“Are you having fun?” you said, rolling your eyes as he continued to mock your absolutely colossal defeat of an evening. 
“Oh, absolutely,” Deadpool laughed. “The other point of contention is why the hell you decided to pull out this absolute banger of a dress for your first date with Mr. Finance Bro there and not ours?”
“That was not a date,” you enunciated, pressing your finger into Wade’s chest. “That was a drunken one night stand that will never happen again and that you even promised to never bring up. It was stupid and nonsensical and I can’t believe it even happened in the first place.”
“Oh come on, Y/N, you’re going to break my heart,” he whined, clasping his hands together like a needy puppy. “I, for one, thought that night was very special. I mean, you even told me that you could see yourself fall-”
Before he could say another word, you grabbed him by the hand and led him into a dark alleyway so that innocent bystanders wouldn’t hear you scream.
“Stop! Bringing that up!” you exclaimed. 
Deadpool was shocked his casual mention of the event elicited such a strong emotion from you. “Okay, okay, jeez.. calm down.”
You sighed, letting him go and turning your back to him. 
But he didn’t let you. Not even for a second. Before you could even react, he grabbed you by the neck and slammed you into the wall. 
You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching up to clasp over his while his grip only tightened over your carotid. 
“Besides, you know that I only followed you here because I wanted to see more of you in this ridiculously skimpy dress..” his voice darkened as he continued to choke you like a helpless animal. “I mean, look at you. That thing practically clings onto you like skin! If you weren’t such a tightass I would have ripped it off of you by now..”
He unsheathed his pocket knife and ran it across your lacy scarlet choker, over the thin straps of your slip dress, and onto your chest. He traced the outline of your cleavage with the dull edge, and then slowly slid it down over your taut stomach. 
You were trying to gulp up air for just one breath, but his hold was unrelenting. 
“I mean a red mini dress, are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled, his blade gently brushing against the garter belt on your right thigh. “Wearing my favorite color? With some other guy? This has got to be orchestrated at this point, Y/N.”
“Wade.. please..” you begged, lips beginning to quiver. Regardless of how much he joked around with you, he scared you when he was angry. 
He finally released you, allowing you to cough and gasp for your first breath. 
“But you know of course I wouldn’t kill you, I mean who do you think I am, a psychopath?” his tone immediately brightened up the moment he saw how much you feared him. “I just like watching you not being able to breathe is all. It’s so cute.”
 After you finally caught your breath, you stared daggers down at the vigilante who stood before you. 
“Listen, Wade,” you said. “I understand you are not exactly pleased with the current state of affairs. But this isn’t entirely up to me. And I’ve told you this a million different times.’
The assassin let out a dramatic, almost cinematic sigh. “Yes, I know, Your mother wants you to date ‘someone sensible with a stable career and not a psycho killer’. Which is perfectly understandable! I get it. I mean, I would probably think the same thing if I lived in the suburbs and made tuna casserole in my spare time.”
“Wade..” you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “You know it’s not that simple.” You walked up to him and gently lifted up his mask to reveal only his lips. 
He didn’t hesitate to grab you by the waist and pull you so close that your body was pressed up against his. 
You stood up on your tiptoes in your heels, stabilizing yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing, but you knew something within you just wanted to kiss him. But you also didn’t know if this was the right idea. 
The plump part of your lip gently brushed against his. The smell of your watermelon lip gloss was driving him crazy. He started to breathe heavily, and if another second passed where you weren’t kissing him he would say fuck it and just do it himself. 
You felt his hot breath in your mouth, and you felt your arms twist around him like they knew exactly where to rest themselves. Like they have done this before. 
“I’m so stupid for this,” you sighed, as you felt his lips beginning to close over yours. 
He smiled smugly into the kiss, quite pleased with himself over the hard fought victory. Without another moment of hesitation, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up without much effort at all. He walked over to the wall, pressing your back softly against it. 
You wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, kissing him like you would die if you stopped. You felt his tongue wrap desperately around yours. He was aggressive, hungry even. He wanted you all to himself, not some fucker in a fleece vest or anyone else for that matter. 
You knew you would regret your decision in the morning. And that no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you would come running back to him. Every single time. 
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pick-me-up-im-scared · 4 months
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Call Me When You Need Me (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Fluff)
Short Summary: When your best friend Ellie has problem sleeping you come over to help her. Like you always do!
Author´s Note: Another random idea I got that I thought would be waaay shorter. It´s not that long, but it's longER than I planned to. Istg, the universe wants me to write +5k fanfics. Everythime I come up with an idea for a blur (cause they're way quicker to write) I end up adding so much to it you can't even call it that. Anyway, hope you'll enjoy just a super cute little story! (I'm the person who tries to fill the "ellie x reader"-tag with stuff that isn't smut. Like I didn't just post two smuts right after each other a week ago.................)
Also! Ellie lives in the same house as Joel in this. Even though I'm well aware she has her own "hut" in the game
Words: 1473
(Pictures aren´t mine! I found them on Pinterest)
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The empty streets felt oddly peaceful as you wandered down the oh, so familiar road. Only the streetlights lighting up your path as your sleepy feet stumbled on the sidewalk. It wasn’t unusual to find you walking down these streets at 3 am. You found yourself in this situation a little too often. Not that you complain! When your best friend needs you, she needs you. The crispy night air forced you to cross your arms in order to keep some warmth. Despite being near fall you decided to skip out on a jacket and just go with your outwashed hoodie. Big mistake. But it’s not that bad. Though you’d lie if you´d say you didn’t miss your warm, cozy bed. Just the thought was enough to put a drowsy smile on your face. You continued to kick rocks you stumbled upon on the sidewalk as you, trying to not hit any of the parked cars beside you, cause you know.......karma. Soon you noticed the familiar fence you helped painting white one summer. By the looks of it, it could use a little touch-up. Getting onto the lawn you quickly made your way to the back. The house was completely pitch black apart from one single window on the right corner.
You walked over to the corner of the porch, making sure to sneak a few glances through the dark windows, just to make sure Joel wasn’t up to grab a glass of water or something. But you’re just met with your own reflection in the surprisingly clean windows. You jumped up on the fence that tastefully decorated the porch to reach the edge of the roof. You took a sturdy grip around the aged wood before pushing yourself up the brick plated surface. This was nothing new to you. It was more of a routine. Getting called over to your friends house at least five times a week you kinda start to come up with a few tricks to make your arrival more smooth. Why are you climbing the house like you're a fucking monkey? you may as. The first time Ellie called me over you both thought Joel would be pissed if he knew. So you came up with the brilliant idea, with your life at risk, to climb up from the back. Yes, Ellie tired to prevent you from doing it, but you're too stubborn. She knows that damn well. And yes, you're pretty sure you've got a six-pack from all the times you've pushed your whole body onto the porch roof. But by the morning neither of you considered Joel's daily visit. So when he came to tell Ellie it's breakfast he was sure surprised to see you laying there, holding her. But he wasn't mad.....not at all. And when it was time for you to leave he made sure to throw out "You can take the door next time!". Despite that you continued to take your not-so-convenient way into Ellie's room. You saw it more as a fun thing, and you like to believe Ellie enjoys to too. Even thought she mumbled a "You're so dumb" before giving you a welcome hug.
You carfully got up from your crunched up position, being careful not to strainght out your back too much or you'll probably fall down and break your neck. At this height you could outline more details in the only lit up room, as if you didn’t know it by memory. You noticed the small crack Ellie always made sure to leave every night incase she got the urge that’s currently the reason you’re here. She didn’t want to have to get up and open it when you got there. Also, she’s been very clear that you can come over whenever you feel like it. Day as night. You used your finger to loop around the thick glass and push it up enough to give you the opportunity to get a better grip. You slid the glass into the slit, just enough to squeeze yourself through. The noice made Ellie quickly turn her head from her position on her bed. Just the look of you made her smile. "You came!" she happily exclaimed. You giggled "Of course! You said you had problem sleeping”.
Your beaten up sneakers barely got to touch the floor before Ellie threw herself at you, slamming you into the nearby wall. She continued to hug you, tighten up her grip. You chuckled, "Hey, hey! You shouldn't try to mush me like ground beef. Who´s gonna keep you company then?". Ellie let go off you and took a step back, giving you the chance to get away from the wall. "I'm sure you can take it" she snarky remarked "Weren't you the one who's got a six-pack" she sarcastically asked while slapping her hand against your clothed stomach. "Ow!" you screaked while backing way from her hand. Ellie just chucked before making her way back to her bed, signaling you to take place beside her. You let the strap of your backpack slide down your arms before leaving it by the end of Ellie's bed, to then quickly kick off your lazy tied shoes before crawling up the comfy bed.
You let out a deep sigh as your back hit the mattress, "I´ve told you to just call me whenever you need me". "I know" Ellie mumbled before looking to the side, "But you deserve to sleep too". "I never sleep as good as I do in your bed" you reassured her as. She smiled a little, but she wasn't convinced. She's tried to fall asleep by herself when she has one of these...nights, but it's impossible! There's been times where she hasn't called you even thought she should have. Just cause she feels bad for forcing you out of bed. She never told you this or you'd kill her. She's lost count of all the times you've told her to just call you when she feels down or can't sleep.
You place your hands behind your head, looking up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers Ellie swore she'd get rid off, but hasn't "had the time to". But you swore she was lying. She's always been such a bad liar. But you think it's adorable, so you don´t mind. "I swear I'm getting us a house someday. That way you wouldn't have to call me whenever you have problem sleeping", Ellie smirked at you. "Yeah?" she asked while shooting herself closer to your laying from. "Yep! Then you could just come over to my room" you frowned a little "Or we might share the same bedroom...". You shrug "Or I mean, we're sleeping in the same bed now, so we could save a lot of money if we just get one". Ellie smiled at the thought but soon her face fell a little "How would that work when you bring a girl over?". You shot your head to give her a confused face "What the fuck, Ellie?" you grabbed a pillow from behind you to hit her playfully "I don´t even bring that many girls over!". "Suuure" Ellie playfully rolled her eyes while wearing that shit-eating grin.
You huffed before pushing her back against the bed so you could straddle her. Ellie had to stop herself from blushing at the sudden contact, but she's pretty sure you'd still notice if you weren't busy continuing hitting her with the pillow. You giggle "You play me out to be some type of slut!". She just shrugged "Maybe you are". You huffed once more, louder this time, before getting off Ellie's lap with a defeated look. "Fuck you, Ellie" you mumbled before throwing the pillow at her. She just laughs as she catches it and put it back to its original place. "Should we get to bed now? You know, the reason I'm here?". "Oh!" Ellie quickly adjusted herself "Yeah, that'd be nice". You grabbed the cover that was messily tossed to the side and placed it over you to. "You want me to read you a bed time story?". Ellie laughed "Fuck you, (y/n)". You smirked as you reached over her to turn off the lamp on her beside table. The feeling of your body being pressed against her made it hard for Ellie to focus, but thank god you soon got back to your previous position behind her.
You wrapped your arms around her frame before pulling her into your embrace. Transferring your warmth onto her. “You don’t have to come here every time, you know?” Ellie clarified. “No, I know” you answered “But I want to” you added before burring your face in the nape of her neck, automatically squeeze her torso a little tighter. Ellie couldn’t help but release a relaxed sigh, finally at peace.
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theunforgvnn · 1 month
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i think im obsessed with leon spiderman au
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Leon's ribs were probably broken, his legs were shaking and he was definitely bleeding yet he didn't seem to care.
“Are you okay?” He quickly ran to you. He sounded stressed and even though you couldn't see it, his facial expression was worried as well.
You just nodded. Maybe you weren't well enough to talk right now, maybe Spider-Man had saved you and was standing in front of you in the flesh.
After a few minutes of silence, you asked. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and added "Ready to go home?"
"Yeah, yeah." He asked you for your address and you had no idea he already knew your address. Not like he was a pervert or a stalker he already knew you and maybe he loved you ever since he met you.
He then opened his arm for you to hug. You were already soaked from falling into the river, so when Leon wrapped his arm around you, you felt warm. Leon panicked even more because you could hear how fast his heart is beating.
Swinging around in Spiderman’s arms was an experience you would never forget. On the other side Leon was sure that it didn’t hurt that much anymore because he was hugging you.
When your feet touch the ground you wanted it to last longer. He stood upside down, watching you. “Take a hot shower when you get home, alright?” You nodded. “Thanks, for everything.” And smiled softly.
"I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,that's my job." He simply said.
"You talk like saving someone's life is a normal thing to do, but you do that every day, right?" Leon chuckled.
"I would save you any day, but please don't be in a situation like this again, okay?" But deep down Leon knew that what happened to you was his fault because whenever someone learnt who he really is something always happen to you.
"I'll try." You smiled. Then you waited, you waited without knowing why.
You reached for his mask. Leon took your hand. “Wait.”
"Don't worry, I have no intention of revealing your identity."
You pulled his mask down to his nose. “Can i ?”
"Please..."
And then it happened, the moment Leon had been waiting for years, time stopped the second his lips touched yours. Leon wanted this moment to never end, he wanted you to love Leon S Kennedy not only Spider-Man .
But he broke the kiss first. He adjusted his mask and said, "Take care." this time not caring about changing his voice.
You watched as he swung away and he watched you from an angle where you couldn't see him.
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"Leon ?" You snapped your fingers
“Hm ?” Leon realized he hasn’t been listening to you.
“Oh my god…you’re the one who asked me to tell you what happened yesterday and you’re not even listening. Am i starting to bore you ?”
“No,no you’re not.” He swallowed his food. “I’m sorry,my bad.”
You just smiled. “Well, good thing that Spider-man was there to save me. Y’know he was definitely taller than than the photos you took. He even might be taller than you.”
“Pretty sure we are the same height.” Leon immediately added.
“I'm not sure, I need to see you two together first.” You shrugged. “Then we kissed but i don’t think he liked it.”
“What makes you say that ?”
“He ran away.” You sighed.
Leon didn't respond at first. “You like him ?” He asked instead.
“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged.
“Why not ?” He asked obviously surprised.
“Leon,he is Spider-man ! Spider-man for god’s sake ! Today Stacey talked to me and asked me if i can introduce her to Spider-man.” You laughed but not because you were happy more like painful.
Leon nodded, you both ate your lunch in silence.
But tonight he will come to your house and kiss you, but this time he won't stop until you do.
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ARGHHH I LOVE HIM
I WASN’T GONNA END IT LIKE THIS BUT I GOT LAZY ☹️☹️
anyways this is kinda translated sooo…. sorry if this fic doesn’t make sense 🙏
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writertothemaximum · 3 months
Note
THE YANKEE STORY WAS SO CUTE 😭😭 YES WE NEED A PT. 2!!!!!
ヤンキー・Yankee: Pt. II
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Yuuji x tall delinquent male reader
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note // read part one here
is this a fic or headcanons? i don’t know anymore.
content // nsfw/18+ only, dom reader/sub Yuuji, reader comes from a strict American family, reader is a juju tech transfer student, reader is a bit depressed, reader is smitten™️ (yuuji is too), Yuuji is bisexual, grinding, kissing
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-A part of you broke the day you realized that you had a crush on Yuuji. It had been so obvious that this was coming, a part of you felt stupid that you hadn’t realized it earlier.
-The harder part was figuring out if it was requited. Was Yuuji even attracted to men? He had a bikini pin-up in his bedroom and you knew his type, so that wasn’t a great start, but you’d also heard him and Todo include guys in their long, elaborate discussions about…whatever they were talking about, so it wasn’t impossible.
-Anxiously, you decided to ask Nobara about it. A part of you was worried because you didn’t quite know how to communicate what you wanted to say, and a part of you was worried because you weren’t sure how they were going to take it. Going off her expression alone, she probably thought you were going to beg for money or something (not a thing you ever did), but upon hearing you ask her if Yuuji had a girlfriend, she immediately caught on. Somehow or another, it ended up with you, her, and Megumi at a cafe in downtown Tokyo, with you footing the bill. (It was not a request.)
Megumi looked kind of annoyed. “I’m getting deja vu here. We’ve been here before.” They had? Well, it didn’t surprise you. Yuuji was incredibly attractive, and endearing on top of that. There wasn’t much not to like. It was like he melted your heart the moment you laid eyes on him. Honestly, it made you feel a bit vulnerable how into him you were.
Nobara laughed, sending a smirk right at you. “And for this guy to be into Itadori? Now that’s a shocker. He barely says anything, and now he suddenly want to know if Itadori’s hooking up with anyone? News to me.” Hooking up with anyone? Had you phrased it like that? This is why your Japanese wasn’t getting any better.
“No, he’s not with anyone. Can I go home now?” Megumi said, taking a sip out of his pitch black coffee.
“Fushiguro.” Nobara chided, glaring at him. “Don’t be like that. He went out of his way to ask me.” And said “guy” in question also didn’t ask to be sitting in a cafe making a scene out of this, but what must be done must be done, you supposed. “Is Itadori into guys, anyways?”
Oh. There it was. The dreaded question. Well, you were going to find out some way or another, you supposed. It was better this way than asking Yuuji directly. At least you could be friends, right?
It felt empty, thinking that. That the one time you actually managed to keep a friend, you ruined it. This was your fault, wasn’t it? You shouldn’t have said anything. You should have just done what you always do and shut your mouth. You should have just let the feelings die in your chest like everything else had since you had moved to this country.
“I mean he could be,” Megumi said, completely plainly. “I mean, with Itadori, he’s pretty open about most things, so it’s worth a shot.”
Worth a shot? So it’s not impossible. It’s very possible. You furrowed your brow. Megumi and Nobara were looking at you funny.
“Stand up,” Nobara said, and raising your eyebrow in suspicion, you followed her instruction. “Turn around.” You followed that, too. Somehow, the scene felt so mundane to you. This was starting to feel comfortable. “Hmm,” she hummed, scanning you up and down, and Megumi did, too.
“See, I told you it was worth a shot,” Megumi said, gesturing at you. Oh. Oh you knew what this was about.
“Were you looking at my ass?” you asked, crossing your arms.
Nobara laughed so hard, she spilled iced tea all over the place. Megumi just groaned, rolling his eyes. “You got the height, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Yeah, he likes tall girls,” Nobara added. Right. Girls. This was going nowhere. “Oh, don’t look like that,” she said, frowning at you. “He hasn’t said no yet.” Sighing, she slumped into the booth. “I know I said I’d never forgive myself if Itadori gets a girlfriend before me, but a boyfriend doesn’t count, right?”
“I don’t think it works like that,” Megumi said, taking another sip of his coffee. How much left did he have in that thing, anyways? “But good luck. And if he says no, don’t take it to heart. He’s got a lot going on.”
A lot going on. Right. You sat back down in the booth, across from your classmates. Your friends. Were they your friends? Probably. You didn’t really know anymore. Clearly, they weren’t scared of you. If anything, they looked down on you (a rarity in this height economy). Either way, they were Yuuji’s friends, so you trusted their judgment.
Did Yuuji have friends outside of school? You never really saw him hanging out with anyone outside of the Jujutsu Tech students so…You assumed not. You knew that something had happened at his place back home, and he mentioned that he hadn’t been in contact with them either. Was he trying to load everything all on himself? Wasn’t he lonely?
Weren’t you?
“Hey, Yuuji,” you said, and his expression changed at your sudden tone shift. It was just the two of you again, hanging out in your special place in the woods behind the school, and sitting between you was the credits of a movie on your phone. There had been Japanese subtitles for Yuuji, of course.
“Yeah? What’s up?” Yuuji said, giving you all his attention. A ripple of tension reverberated around inside of you. This wasn’t hard. There wasn’t anything challenging about this. You were just going to ask him a question, no big deal. Nooo big deal, none at all.
“How do you feel about guys?” What kind of question was that? Were you a dumbass? Yuuji shot you a confused look. Dumbass!
“Like? Uh,” Yuuji said, putting a finger to his lips. “Like in what kind of way?”
“Like the lead actor,” you said, saving yourself. “What did you think of him?”
“Oh!” Yuuji said, his eyes lighting up. “He’s not really my type, but he was pretty cool.”
Not his… An inkling of fire burned down your throat. It had been a long time since your heart pumped this fast. “What is your type in men, then?”
“Hm,” Yuuji grumbled, bunching his face up, and then in what appeared to bit a fit of frustration, he jammed his thumb directly into his chin. “You know, I don’t really know. I haven’t been into guys for that long.”
You gave him an empty look, letting the blood settle in your veins.
“I think…If he’s tall that’s nice. Would it be bad if I said a big dick? Probably.”
Yuuji shouted when you pushed him to the ground. Your fingers gripped tightly around his hoodie, the fabric soft, but you could feel the rings of tethered muscle underneath.
“Woah! What’s up, man?” he said, as if nothing was wrong.
“So if I had my way with you right now,” you said, your voice almost shaking, “that wouldn’t bother you?”
Yuuji’s face flushed a bright red. Turning his head, he cringed, breaking eye-contact. “When did I say I liked to be on the receiving side? You’re not um…You’re not wrong though.”
He didn’t tense up in your grip. Not once did he resist. There he lied, completely pliant, just for you. He trusted you. He wanted this.
“You don’t have to say anything,” you said, whispering close to his ear, and you could feel him starting to get hard against your thigh.
You only had to take a single look at his face to see a dumb smile that said, “okay.” Yuuji trembled as you gently caressed the side of his body, letting your hands slip under his hoodie. He looked at you right in the eye, those sweet amber pearls glistening at you, waiting anxiously for your next move, those sweet eyelids flickering in delight.
Slowly, you started to grind against him, your erection straining through your pants. Following your direction, Yuuji started to grind back against you, the front of your jeans rubbing against each other in some sort of sick friction. His lips opened and you could feel his hot breath against you, so warm, so close. His skin was surprisingly soft, sometimes interrupted by an occasional scar, and you explored his body, treating him like the treasure he was.
He licked his lips slowly and with tongue, and pushing down on his hips, you found yourself entranced by the sight in front of you. How close he was, how excited you were, how unreal this all felt. Bending down, you let your face drop closer to his, and Yuuji closed his eyes for you, inviting.
You weren’t sure who closed the gap, but your lips were touching, and your tongues were intertwined. Your hands burned as they traced alongside the back of Yuuji’s body. He was built like a furnace, and he would warm you to your core.
“Hm, feels good,” he mumbled in between smacks of your lips. “I knew it’d feel good, but this feels awesome.”
Was it his first time? Your cock twitched in your pants. He was yours. He was completely yours, all of him. You bared your teeth, and he laid himself bare for you to bite.
“Fuck, fuck, shit, I think I’m—” Yuuji grumbled, holding onto your back for support, slamming back into your pelvis in hard thrusts.
Like that would make you slow down. He was funny.
In a couple seconds, Yuuji started to tense up, pulling his lips away from you, gripping hard onto your jacket, and Yuuji could grip. “Fuck,” he groaned, before a huge gasp of air, and then he fell limp. Just close enough, you reached your hand down your pants, and jerked yourself to completion. You’d worry about the mess later.
Like two exhausted dogs, you flopped on top of each other, the heat from exertion way too much for this small space. “Do you want to date me or something?”
You pushed yourself up and glared at Yuuji right in the eyes. “What do you think that means?”
Yuuji just laughed. “Well. I want to date you.”
Even now, you wondered how a smile could make your heart flutter. Relaxing, you flopped back down, and Yuuji hugged you with grace. “I’ll take that as a yes then—” he laughed, and you hugged him back.
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redflagshipwriter · 21 days
Text
Red Hot Ghouls chapter 13 part 2/2
masterpost
Given that Dr. and Dr. Fenton had taken him on a drive around town that legitimately climaxed with an on-foot chase of a hulking ghost who did not care to comment for their family blog, Jason thought that was actually kinda probable. If the Drs. had that technology, their kids would probably have access as well.
“Why not?” Tim said, sounding a bit defensive. “We know for a fact that there’s a few undead out there, zombie boy. And there’s a ghost affiliated with the JL.”
All solid points.
‘But there’s no way the good Doctors would be able to convince a ghost to do anything they wanted. Would the daughter have any better luck?’
Jason covered a laugh in his fist.
His ghostly experience so far consisted of:
Danny Phantom, who was very annoyed that Waters was trying to pay him tribute and not happy to see Jason, either.
The mysterious collaborator who hadn’t even wanted Jason to enter his tower.
Skalker, who spent the length of their acquaintance screaming and flying away at what appeared to be his top speed while Jack Fenton whooped and Dr. Fenton shouted questions from a megaphone.
“I get the vibe that they don’t really care to interact with the living,” Jason said, before Tim could get his knickers in a twist. “So my skepticism is in regards to the likelihood of a ghost agreeing to collaborate.”
“What, you think they’re all the same?” Tim said. His tone made it seem like he thought that was such an embarrassingly unintellectual idea that Jason should sink through the floor.
“I think there’s pretty good reasons there might be a trend.”
Tim made an unconvinced sound and changed the subject. “Since they have a similar area of interest, I want to look for a connection between the Fentons and Waters. They could be- Why did you laugh?”
A neon sign lit up across the street, sending a wash of purple light through the air. Jason shook his head. “The Fentons- the Dr.s Fenton, at least, strongly dislike Jeremy Waters.”
“Why did that come up?”
“No reason,” Jason lied airily. “Anyway, that’s not it. Could be some kind of rivalry. But I doubt they’d want to visit Waters in Arkham to give him their sympathies.”
Tim chewed that over for a moment. “Could be a rivalry. I gotta go, O’s hitting my line.”
“Stay safe out there.” Jason cut the conversation and settled in to think. He stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for something to fiddle with that wasn’t a weapon. It had poser vibes to stand around on a rooftop alone playing with a knife or a gun. If Oracle caught you on video, she would tint it blue, set it to some humiliatingly emo soundtrack, and send it around the hero community.
Not, uh. Not that that had happened to him.
He called in. “Hey, O, good evening.”
“Good to hear from you, Hood.” She sounded as serene as ever.
Jason fidgeted a little. “Anything I could help with?” He toed the front of his boot back and forth on the cement ledge for a moment, killing time by idly calculating how many seconds he’d have to engage a grapple if he fell from this height.
“Good news for Gotham, it’s a quiet night.”
He sighed.
“I know, I know,” O said sympathetically. “You got all dressed up in your dancing shoes-”
“And there’s no one to go out with,” Jason agreed. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered that that…might not be true, actually. He made a dramatic sigh. “I might call it a night, then. No point staring at the city like some bat-eared creep. I don’t have any monologues to work on right now.”
“Oh, you got those all done? Good for you, little buddy.”
Jason resisted the urge to flip her off. She wasn’t even here.
“Stay safe,” he said, because the idea of ending a call without saying that always filled him with a terrible premonition that this would be the time the other person ended up shot in the head and gone forever. He blew out a long, slow breath when he was finally truly alone and reconsidered the thought he’d had earlier.
‘I haven’t messaged Phantom all this time. It might be a good night for it. It’s been most of a week. He won’t be annoyed that I’m checking in now.’
Yeah… Yeah, okay. Jason grappled down and made his way to where he’d stashed his bike. He got into his current residence and stripped out of his gear. He got out his phone and shot Phantom a text before he went into the shower. Not much, he didn’t wanna come across as desperate. Just a nice, casual, “Hey, what’s up? Just checking in. Any luck so far? I finished my books!”
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coffeewithcocoa · 7 months
Text
Drunk Confessions
Prologue
Human Alastor x Male Reader
I’m spitting random shit outta my ass and this is one of them.
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(LOOK AT THIS MAN! MY EYES ARE BEING BLESSED!)
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You and Alastor were good friends. The best even! You too have been growing up together and both your parents have loved seeing you both do everything together. Whenever someone would push him down you would be at his side helping him, same went for you. He chose to be more violent though.
Even when you both were teens that didn’t plan on splitting you up. Though when you did have to move back to Europe, you and him realized that you wouldn’t be able to talk.
So you just declined moving back there all together. Your parents kept trying to say that it was for the better and you’ll visit soon but that didn’t convince you. It took 18 hours, with the help of Alastor’s mom, to get you to leave.
Tears ran down your face as you remembered all the good times with him.
-
“AHEM-!” Someone snapped you out of your thoughts. “HM- Yes Mimzi?” You chuckled at the embarrassment, that was probably like the fifth time today. “How about you go talk to him. You’ve been gawkin’ at him ever since he walked in!”
She did have a point. “No thank you, Mimzi.” You turned your attention back over to the bartender. “Another drink please Husker?” He rolled his eyes and fetched you another drink. “Thank you~!” You sang out to him.
“Look..you high haven’t talked ever since you moved.” Mimzi said to get your attention turned back towards her. “Just try and talk to him again?” She spoke again, rising an eyebrow at you
“I would love to..I truly would, but it’s been so long and..WHERE are you going?!” She chuckled as she got up from her chair. Her height being very noticeable as her flapper dress straightened out from being seated.
“If you’re not gonna do it, then I am sweetheart.” She waved her hand at you as she moved closer to your old friend. “Here’s your drink..” You quickly got up from your chair, ‘shit!’ But when you got there it was too late. You quickly turned your heals and walked back to your spot.
“Thank you again for the drink Husk.” You snatched the drink that he healed and left to the back room of the speakeasy. God, you hated when people fought your own battles for you. You get that they’re trying to help but damn.
You closed the door with a nice click noise. A soft sigh slipped past you, taking a nice sip from the whiskey that you so desired. The room that you were in held all kinds of liquor. Starting from whiskey and ending at wine.
‘Looks like I can drink myself to death over here.’ You quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was a shot and grabbed a similar bottle to the Whiskey you liked. Opening it with a nice pop sound, you started refilling your glass with it.
The smell of liquor quickly filled the room. A satisfied hum came out from you as you decided to drink your way till you were drunk. Even though that was pretty risky but you didn’t care.
“Anyways Alastor, sweetheart, how have you been doing?” Mimzi smiled at Alastor as her and him were walking back got the area that she was last seen with you. “Oh I’ve been doing quite alright! The radio broadcasts have been just swell!” He chuckled out in his normal happy self.
Mimzi made a lip smack sound, “Well isn’t that just nice. I’ll be happy to let you know that..where the fuck did he go.” She blinked at your seat a couple of times before turning around to face the taller person.
She chuckled out loud while tinkering with her gloves. “Okay look. I didn’t lie to you but he did disappear.” Her voice wasn’t that confident. Since Husk was right there he scoffed, calling her out on her fake bullshit. “You were the one who fucking scared him off, son of a bitch.” He mumbled the last part so the both of them wouldn’t hear.
“What did I do to scare him off?!” Mimzi started getting defensive. “You called over the very fuckin’ person that he didn’t want to talk to.” Husk blinked at Mimzi before heading away. Alastor just stood there smiling before moving towards Husk.
“Hello old pal.” Alastor gave Husk one of the fakest smiles know to him. “The fuck you want.” Husk turned around so he could clean some bottles. “I just have a favor.” Alastor chuckled. “No need to get all pissy now. I just want you to know where you saw him go!” Alastor said taking a glass of Whiskey.
———————————————————————
I’m going to write a part 1. For right now I guess this is a prologue! FEAST MY LOVELY CHILDREN>:)
Part 1
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leavemeslowly · 6 months
Text
III. queen of peace
Pairing: Susie Glass x Edward Horniman
TV show: The Gentlemen (2024)
word count: 1472
warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, not-super-graphic smut, love/hate? relationship
„The queen of peace
Always does her best to please
Is it any use?
Somebody’s gotta lose"
Susie and Eddie become partners, tell each other some dark truths and well… Susie listens to him against her better judgement.
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Susie and Eddie stumbled into his office, laughing about something that Freddie shouted after them when they left the party happening in the living room.
Eddie closed the doors behind them and moved to the front of his desk where he hid a certain document. He handed Susie a blue fountain pen and asked her to sign. Naturally, not with her real signature because that could prove their professional relationship to the authorities. She signed with a doodle of a gun. He then drew a middle finger next to it. Their deal was done. They were in business, together.
„So, now we are equals?”, Eddie asked after he put the document inside of a safe hidden behind one of many paintings purchased by his father. Susie smiled enigmatically.
„Ta, I suppose we are. I will miss giving you orders."
"I am sure you will continue giving them anyway.” Eddie moved to a mini bar and poured them drinks. She smiled at him, thinking that he was probably right. Susie also knew that he will be more than happy to take them.
“Any plans what you want to do first?” She asked when he gave her a full glass.
“No”, She lifted her eyebrows. “I mean I do, but not today. Anyone ever told you, you are a workaholic?”
That is why she appreciated his companionship. He wasn’t afraid to challenge her and say it as it was.
“No.” Her expression changed to a more serious one. "Everyone else is too scared to tell me the truth."
“I am not afraid of you.” He searched for her eyes and his voice softened as if there was another dimension to his words. „I know what you are capable of when I pushed you. I have learnt my lesson.”
Susie sat in an armchair behind his desk and looked very pleased with herself taking his place.
„When I told Gospel the truth about his brother what led to his visit on your estate, I did it because you lied to me. I was angry at you, Eddie. It was personal. Don’t betray me again.”
Eddie nodded and moved closer to her. He leaned on his desk when looking down on her and not knowing how to respond to her confession. Admittedly, he was surprised by it. She sounded hurt rather than angry but he didn’t pointed that out aloud.
„I told Johnston, back when I still considered his support that I do not want any of your family members hurt. Of course, you too, Susie.” He paused to catch her eye and ensure she understands. „I don’t want to fight.” She looked up and met his eyes with openness he wasn’t prepared for.
„Is there anything you want then?”
„You know I want a lot of things.” He answered vaguely but not without understanding the hints she was dropping. „And it is all your fault.”
„Oh, really? I don’t think it is, Edward. I think you have always wanted it all. Military, this whole protector of your family act were meant to conceal your ambition. You don’t have to hide from me. We have already showed each other our darkest colours.”
Eddie was blindsided by her words that caused all of his pretences to tumble and crush into pieces. She stripped him of his defences with few punctuated words. Susie knew it and couldn’t contain her smirk of satisfaction.
“Always so smug, aren’t you?” Eddie countered gracelessly. She rolled her eyes and raised from her seat. Her words were the first loud declaration of his deepest and most sinister thoughts. “You don’t what to hear what I have to say?”
“No, not particularly.”
Eddie knew better so raised to his height and looked down on her. Her perfume lingered around him and the truth was he was under her spell not other way around. Nevertheless, he will try to even out the odds.
“You have it all, right? You are immaculate in protecting your empire but not for yourself, not really. For your brother, your father. You have a fucked up notion of obligation from which you can’t free yourself. You should want something just for you, Susie. Something substantial because I know you are not easily satisfied. Is there anything you would want? Anything I can give you, perhaps?”
Susie’s expression changed but she still was almost rigid. She had her head slightly tilted so she could gaze on his face. Finally, she slowly leaned in. Her hand landed on his lapel.
“You have no idea what you are asking for.”
He inched closer to her face and slowly, testing the waters, placed his hand on her cheek. Susie shivered at his touch, probably because of a coldness of his signet. Her eyelashes fluttered when she felt his breath on her lips. Eddie wanted to ruin her perfectly painted red lipstick which tempted him so many times before. He knew it will happen but the wait was crushing.
“Come on, Susie, tell me. What is that you want?” He caressed her cheek trying to encourage her to relax. “Should I give you an idea?”
He noticed the way her throat bobbed trying to mute any unwanted sounds. It was satisfying, going exactly in the direction he imagined.
“You should just kiss me, Edward, and stop teasing. For your own good.” Susie regained her old self and an ounce of self-composure.
Her words were like a sound of a gun being fired. Eddie crushed his lips to her. She immediately responded with need he didn’t anticipate. Still, her taste, her small noises were like magic. Until this moment, he didn’t realise how much he missed closeness and simplicity of a touch. This need was pathetic. He called out Susie on her weaknesses but he wasn’t better when he turned them around and pinned her to his desk and manoeuvred her to sit on it.
„You do justice to your family name, Eddie” Susie mumbled between their kisses. If he could, he would roll his eyes but just laughed, too busy kissing down her throat. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging it and he could not contain his moan. „So you like it like that? Not so tough anymore."
„You are talking too much, Susan.” Eddie raised his gaze to her stormy eyes. She slowly smiled but could not conceal desire looming there.
Her fingers slowly circled his tie and pulled it forcing him to kiss her again, but slower, according to her own want. She took it off and untucked first buttons of his shirt. Eddie's hands roamed over her back, then down her things and back up under he vest. Suddenly, she almost sobbed into his mouth. He discovered she wasn’t wearing anything under it so his cold fingers came into contact with her bare skin.
Her jacket dropped to the floor next. Before she could react, Eddie was moving her to stand in front of him and brace her palms on the desk. He wanted to evaporate her thoughts, end her worries and let her finally relax. He pressed himself to her back and she moaned feeling him tall and unyielding.
It was right how she fitted between his arms, almost a head lower and staring up into his eyes. Her own were glazed with pure want that if necessary would send Eddie to another war. He touched her jaw to draw her to him and kiss her thoroughly while his other hand embraced hers. Their fingers intertwined and she gasped when his hand slid down her throat to slowly embrace her breast and pleasure her with his touch. He observed her opened mouth and small cries she let out.
„Eddie, it is too much.”
„So do you know now what you want?” He was teasing but he needed her to voice her desires. Perhaps, it was not strictly necessary knowing his own desperate craving but he wanted her to have it burned in her memory. That it was her own decision to fuck him and let him close enough to see her vulnerability. He did not want regrets and another cause for war.
„Eddie...” She didn’t want to admit it aloud. Still, she tried to express it when he forced her to look at him and saw her eyelids half closed and felt her slow grinding against him.
„Say it, Susie, God, please say it.” He was slowly losing a fight he began when she on the other hand was regaining control. It was her turn to foreshadow all the things she could do to him. Against his better judgement, he clutched her thigh and finally pushed into her ass. Not expecting that, she abruptly tilted her head back onto his arm and thrusted back with more fierceness.
„Yes, Eddie, yes, do your worst."
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hollandorks · 1 year
Text
haven
battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader
chapter five
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Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a
a/n: I won't lie, I love this chapter, especially because it shows one of my favorite things about this reader very clearly--the fact that she only has one braincell. She's been surprisingly fun to write, even with all of the angst!
Series Masterlist
word count: 2.6k
The doors opened with a noise so loud she winced. 
When she looked up, she was face to face with a gun.
Y/n was afraid in a distant sort of way. It was, sadly, not the first time she’d been held at gunpoint pursuing a story. But the first time had been with a wire under her shirt and a whole bunch of cops around the corner. 
This time, she was alone. 
And the man on the other end of the gun was a cop. 
“Shit,” Lieutenant Gordon said and, mercy of all mercies, put away his weapon. “What are you doing here?” 
For some reason, the disappearance of the gun kicked the fear up a notch. Her heart suddenly tried to take flight. She took a deep breath, dizzy now, and managed to say, “Got a second for that interview?” Her voice was too high. Probably not the best time to crack a joke, but she obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. 
Behind Gordon was a shadow. 
No, a man. 
The Batman. 
His mouth was slightly parted, what she could see of his face…almost shocked. 
“You two look awfully surprised to see that someone followed you. The blindingly bright light wasn’t very hard to find.” She should shut up, she thought distantly. She still wasn’t sure if they could be trusted. But the fear was ebbing away, slowly but surely. 
Gordon pinched between his eyes, the movement pushing his glasses up to his forehead. 
“There’s a locked gate that requires a code. There’s barbed wire.” He sounded like Alfred when she and Bruce had gotten into something they were told not to touch or do as kids. Tired dad voice, they called it, snickering behind his back. 
She hooked her thumb in Batman’s direction. He still stood absolutely still, cape blowing in the breeze, his mouth closed now. “Followed this guy in.” 
Gordon looked over at the vigilante. “This is the girl you–” 
“I remember,” Batman said in that voice of gravel and smoke. It sent a thrill of fear through her. Actually, his voice was kind of sexy, now that she was thinking about it. 
She was losing her mind. She had barely slept in a week and she was losing her mind. She was with two men she wasn’t sure if she could trust, on top of an abandoned building where it would be very easy to kill her, and she was thinking of sexy voices. Well, one sexy voice in particular. No offense to Gordon, she thought wryly. 
“I’m also, um…a journalist.” This was directed at the vigilante. In her experience, honesty opened up more doors than it shut. She was usually pretty good at figuring out when to lie, particularly about her profession, and when to tell the truth. Or when to split the difference. She trusted her gut more often than not, and right now, she was relatively at ease. “Couldn’t help it, sorry.” 
“So you just…” Gordon waved a hand vaguely. 
“Followed the light? Yeah. I just hope it doesn’t lead to death like it usually does.” God, she needed to stop cracking jokes. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. “So if you’re going to murder me, can I please at least get a good quote first?” 
“This concerns her anyway,” Batman said, shocking her so much that she nearly toppled over the edge of the tower. And–oh shit, the tower was really tall and had absolutely no walls or rails or anything to protect her from the drop. She took a shaky step back towards the elevator, but it had returned down below. Heights had never been her friend. An irony, Bruce liked to point out, because she lived in a tower. Then that would almost always start an argument about what “irony” meant. 
“Are you sure?” Gordon said. The wind whistling in her ears made it hard to hear. She hoped the question wasn’t Are you sure we shouldn’t kill her? and was instead simply Are you sure we’re going to trust her? 
“We can always throw her over,” he said. There was something almost familiar about his voice, she realized, but then the words caught up to her. 
She gulped, dizzy again, but Gordon did a double take. “Did you just make a joke, man?” 
The Batman gave no indication that it had been a joke. She gripped the pepper spray tighter. Not that it would help her if she got tossed over the side, but it made her feel a little better. 
“He’s kidding, don’t worry. Tell her you’re kidding, she looks ready to puke.” Gordon crossed his arms, clearly not intimidated in the least by the hulking figure of the vigilante. 
“I’m kidding,” the Batman said with a cutting glance towards Gordon. “I don’t kill people.” 
She squinted at him, unable to clearly see him in the darkness. She really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. She guessed he had to have at least some sense of humor about all of this. He was dressed as a fucking bat, after all. 
She decided to trust them. “Okay, which means I’ll be really upset if you make an exception for me. I’ll haunt your ass. Yours too, Gordon, because supposedly you’re the only cop who isn’t corrupt in this city.” She crossed her arms and shivered. As long as she ignored the sheer drop surrounding her on three sides, she’d be fine. “Though I’m not convinced yet. I’ve been gone from Gotham for too long.” 
“The force has changed a lot in a year.” Another look exchanged with the vigilante. “But I understand the sentiment.” 
Y/n glanced around, keeping her eyes on the view instead of the drop. “So no one else has ever followed you up here?” she asked curiously. She saw what she was pretty sure was a spotlight on the far side of the platform. “Because seriously, the light is a dead giveaway.” 
“His girlfriend did once,” Gordon said, and he smiled. “But no one else.” 
“Wasn’t my girlfriend,” the Batman mumbled. Mumbled. He was suddenly less scary when he sounded like any surly man denying any attachment to a woman. 
Her ears perked up. “Oh? She got a name?” 
They both gave her looks that said they knew exactly what she was up to. She shrugged, the perfect picture of innocence. It was worth a shot. 
She changed tactics. “You said this concerns me. What does?” 
“The murders you witnessed,” Gordon said. “We found ties to the Gallo family. I was coming to fill him in.” 
“The Gallo family,” she repeated. She knew this already, but better to play at ignorance in case they gave her more information. That and it hadn’t been confirmed by someone who was on the investigation team. “The mobsters in New York?” 
“The very same.” 
“Was the one who got away one of them?” she asked. Because that would be bad. Very bad. 
“We didn’t get any information out of the other three. One…committed suicide not too long ago, actually. Part of why I’m here.” Gordon sighed. “Getting rid of Falcone created a vacuum. The Gallos are just the first ones powerful enough to fill the space.” 
Falcone. She knew the name. Knew the story. Knew he’d been responsible for the deaths of Bruce’s parents. That was one death she hadn’t begrudged the Riddler–at least Thomas and Martha had gotten justice, in the end. 
The Batman turned and looked over the city. His figure cut a dark shadow across the city skyline. “Any ideas where to start looking?” 
“So you can bust some heads?” Gordon said. He was smiling. Y/n looked between them. It was fascinating. They were obviously close but this only confirmed it. She itched to take notes but she didn’t want either of them to snatch her phone. Damn, she should have set it to record when she was in the elevator. Gordon continued, “But no. We’re coming up empty so far. None of the typical informants have heard anything about the Gallo family. As far as we know, none of them are actually in the city. If they are, they’re laying low.” 
“Could you identify them again?” Batman asked. His eyes glinted in the darkness as he faced her again. She noticed he hadn’t come any closer to her, unlike Gordon who was only a couple of feet away. Instead he was near the edge, about as far away from them as he could get. Was it to make her feel better, safer? 
“Maybe, with the help of the video.” She knew eyewitness testimonies were shaky at best. And the more traumatic the event, the more unreliable the testimony could be. But a video helped and would do wonders in court. “What does this mean for me?” she asked. “Am I supposed to stay locked up forever, afraid to go out in case there’s a mob hit on me? Or even just a regular murderer trying to take out a witness? Because both of those are kind of shitty.” 
“Yes,” Batman said at the exact same time Gordon said, “Probably.” 
Her heart sank. 
“We’ve been protecting your identity as best we can,” Gordon said in a sure tone that again made her think of Alfred. She wondered if Gordon had kids. “But we can’t be sure there isn’t a leak in the department. We’re still plugging all the holes left behind from Falcone.” 
She winced. “Okay, I’ve done two bad things so far.” The Batman crossed his arms. Gordon motioned for her to continue. “First, I may or may not have been loaned out to the Tribune on special assignment to report on my own case. So the editor definitely knows my identity. And I also may or may not have reached out to a GCPD officer to be a source.” 
She heard the Batman sigh even over the noise of the wind. Gordon was pinching the bridge of his nose again. Their response made her feel like a little kid getting in trouble and it made her bristle. She bit her tongue to keep from immediately defending herself. 
“Which officer?” Gordon asked and his tone told her all she needed to know. He didn’t trust some of his fellow cops, if any. 
“He hasn’t even agreed to be a source yet, and besides I have the right to protect–” 
“Which officer?” Batman cut in, the sharp growl of his voice startling her. 
The sound of it made her spit it out. “Martinez.” 
Both men visibly relaxed. “Martinez is solid. There’s a reason I brought him with me to get your statement,” Gordon said. “We can trust him.”
“Okay, good. That’s good. See? I’m not a total idiot.” She relaxed marginally. 
“Maybe you’re just lucky,” Batman said. 
She laughed humorlessly. “Lucky? Well, buddy, you know what I was doing the same day I witnessed a fucking mob hit? Burying my mother and grandmother. And don’t even get me started on the rest of my personal life right now.” 
“He didn’t mean it,” Gordon said with a sharp look. “His humor takes some getting used to.” 
Batman mumbled something under his breath again that sounded a lot like I can talk for myself. But he didn’t actually butt in. 
“Okay, whatever. What can I do? I don’t want to be killed, obviously, and I don’t particularly like the idea of being locked in an ivory tower either, nice as it is.” What she didn’t say was that she wasn’t sure she could handle being locked in Wayne Tower with Bruce Wayne. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t be reminded of how close they used to be and the distance between them now. And all of that on top of the immense grief she experienced at unpredictable times. She never knew when she’d be reminded of her grandmother and subsequently that she was gone. Around every corner, through every doorway, was the potential for a punch to the gut when she remembered her grandmother was dead. 
“What can you do? Stop sneaking into construction sites at night, for one,” Gordon said with a soft snort. “But any information, anything, you come up with while working on this story, send it to me, too. And we’ll work with you on identifying that fourth suspect.” 
“You aren’t going to tell me to stop investigating?” 
It was the Batman who answered. “Would you actually stop?” His voice was rough on her skin, giving her goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold or the fear of heights. 
She shrugged. “Probably not. But I don’t want to die, either.” 
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said. He took a step forward. She noticed how broad his shoulders were, how sharp his jaw was, how his gloved hands were clenched into fists at his side. She really, really should have found a way to sneakily record everything. She was probably closer to the Batman than most people had ever been. 
She swallowed. “Don’t worry, Wayne Tower’s plenty secure.” 
“Still. I’ll be around.”
“That sounds a lot like stalking.” She raised an eyebrow. 
“I promise I won’t peek in your windows.” A twitch at the corner of his lips. 
“That sounded a lot like another bad joke,” she said. But she smiled.  
“Let me drive you home,” Gordon interrupted. He was glancing back and forth between them, eyebrows raised. She wanted to protest, but she doubted her luck had held long enough for her to be able to get a taxi back home. 
“What, that’s it? Two whole pieces of information and you go home? You guys don’t text or anything?” She crossed her arm. She really hadn’t gotten any more information that she didn’t have–except for the suicide of one of the suspects. If it even was a suicide. “This meeting could have been an email.” 
“Never know who’s listening,” Gordon said. He tilted his head towards the vigilante. “Besides, he’s paranoid. Only calls if he needs something. Hates texting.” 
She eyed the man in question. If he hated texting, maybe he wasn’t as young as she thought. Then again, Bruce hated texting too, old man at heart that he was. But he was the exception, not the rule. 
“I’d really appreciate it if you two kept me in the loop too. Quid pro quo,” she said. 
“For your article?” Batman asked. There was a certain edge to his words that made her think he didn’t like reporters. And really, it made sense. If she was trying to keep her identity a secret, she wouldn’t like reporters either. They were a chronically nosy bunch even when they weren’t working on a story. 
“For my life. If I survive this, yeah I’m going to write a hell of an article. But I kind of have to be alive to write it, don’t I?” She crossed her arms again and stared him down. 
“Quid pro quo,” Gordon said. “As long as you two agree to play nice.” He chuckled, like it was part of a joke. 
“Keeping her alive is nice,” Batman said. Another joke? Every interaction between him and Gordon solidified the fact that they got along well and were around each other often. No way Gordon didn’t know the guy’s real identity. But if they were as close as she suspected and if Gordon was as honorable as everyone said…no way was he going to let any hints slip. 
Her mind spun as the two men talked quietly about off the clock watches of Wayne Manor. She now had two very reliable sources for her article–if they really did keep her in the loop–and a new certainty that an op-ed for the Batman was in her future. She doubted any reporters in Gotham had spent as much time with the vigilante as she already had. Her veins thrummed with that inner fire. 
She might be able to expose a mob conspiracy and the Batman’s identity in one fell swoop. 
It was all she could think of as Gordon drove her home.
Next Chapter
taglist:
@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings
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steddiebang · 1 year
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Crossroads (Hellfire on my Trail)
Author: @nevertheless_5 l Artist: @hels._art l Artist: @sunflowerharrington Posting on Tuesday, October 10
Like the infamous urban legend, Eddie meets the Devil at a crossroads and cuts a deal to become a rockstar. In exchange, Henry Creel wants to be his occasional puppetmaster. He grants Eddie one year of his shiny new life to choose to either finalize his deal or break it. As he grows more famous, makes a record, and starts a nationwide U.S. tour, Eddie thinks he’s gotten everything he ever wanted. Then he meets Steve Harrington and realizes how wrong he was. He also didn’t get all the fine print of his contract with the Devil. An explicit, slow burn, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers tale. Tagline: Love be the Devil but it won’t get me.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
Eddie kept looking because the guy was hot. Those boring clothes were a little too tight and all Eddie could process was the bulge in his jeans, toned muscles that were obvious under his pastel shirt, and hard forearms. He looked strong, like he worked out. Probably exactly that douchey type, yeah. His face was kind of ridiculous too. Thick, dark eyebrows, defined jaw, moles or freckles dotting his neck and face like beauty marks. He was pretty.
So maybe he was a little taken aback by the guy’s looks. He wasn’t about to show it. Good-looking guys like him were a dime a dozen. Probably straight as an arrow too. He looked it. Boring. 
“And who are you?” Eddie said and looked down like he wasn’t interested in the answer. He watched himself strum the guitar. 
“Who are you?” 
Eddie laughed. “If you’re here you should probably know that already.” He looked up to another bitchy expression and hands still on hips. “What are you, venue staff?”
The man scoffed. Eddie strummed again and turned one of the tuning pegs to adjust the sound, strummed again.
“Hey, stop that.” 
The man placed his hand on the neck of the guitar like he was going to take it and Eddie stood up quickly, pushing the guy back with his body, the guitar between them. He didn’t like people touching his baby, certainly not some random dude with a chip on his shoulder. He wasn’t afraid of his size either. They were the same height anyway, even if pretty boy had 20 lbs or more on him. 
“Back off,” Eddie said, eyes locked on the man, but he wasn’t backing down either. 
The guy’s annoyed expression was angry now, and yeah there was green in his eyes. Eddie could see it really well now that they were so much closer. His dark eyelashes were kind of absurdly long too. Christ, he looked like a girl. Eddie’s gaze fell to pretty boy’s lips without his consent. The hard line of them right now couldn’t hide how they’d probably be soft and sweet to kiss, and Eddie wanted to kiss them, well, if he didn’t rip the guy’s hand off his arm first.
“That’s Munson’s guitar and I’m in charge of it, so hand it over.”
Eddie laughed. “You’re not in charge of it.”
“I’m his guitar tech actually, so yes I am in charge of it, and I don’t appreciate you fucking with the instrument.”
The heat in his voice and that he’d cursed made Eddie smile now. He would never deign to let it show, but he decided he liked how this guy didn’t back down. Also, he was pretty amused that he didn’t have a clue who Eddie was. Idiot. A pretty idiot though. He could work with that, could push this game a little further. 
“Oh, you don’t want me fucking with your instrument huh? You sure? I’m pretty good at it.”
The guy seemed to flatline for a moment before narrowing his eyes, getting the gist of what Eddie was saying. Eddie looked him up and down slowly, acted like he was considering it and, oh, this guy didn’t like that at all. They were still so close, and Eddie ran his hand up the collar of the guy’s shirt. Pretty boy stopped Eddie’s hand immediately, gripping it tight, and that actually hurt a little. Strong, yeah. Eddie grinned.
“Watch it.”
“Or maybe I’ll let you fuck with mine instead. You might like that.”
The guy practically sneered at him, disgusted. Eddie grinned and shrugged. It didn’t bother him. Typical straight guy reaction. Eddie knew he was attractive, so it wasn’t any skin off his back. If anything, it made this more fun. 
“But either way, Adonis, I’ll be tuning my own guitar, thanks. Don’t need your help.”
The guy looked a little confused by that, especially when Eddie stepped away to sit back down and mess around with his guitar.
“Uh.” Eddie looked up and the guy seemed a little lost now. He swallowed and followed that eloquence with, “I’m Steve. What’s…your name?”
Eddie grinned. “I think you might have guessed. Smarter than you look, huh?”
A flash of anger passed over the man’s features before he composed himself. “Eddie Munson?”
Eddie nodded and started to hum along to the song he was playing now. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him and wondered what he was thinking. Probably freaking out that he’d pissed off the boss. The boss who had kind of hit on him. Eddie decided he’d put him out of his misery. He didn’t look up when he spoke. 
“I’ll take care of the Warlock and my acoustic too. You can handle the backup guitars, cords, amps, all the other fun stuff. Got it, Steve?”
“Harrington.”
Eddie looked up and a little of the defiance was back in Steve’s expression. He found it funny that he was correcting himself now, wanted to be called Harrington instead apparently.
“Harrington then. My other offer still stands by the way.” Eddie grinned at him and Steve looked confused for a second. Just one.
“I don’t mess around with rockstars.”
Eddie glanced at him, raising his eyebrows as he strummed. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Lots of reasons. Plenty of other people around who are up for that. Men, women, whatever you want.”
“But not you?” Eddie pressed, letting his gaze slide over Steve’s features again. He really was beautiful. Not Eddie’s type at all but there was something about him. Maybe he just liked what he couldn’t have. Steve stared back and seemed to have shut a wall down over his expression. It made Eddie so curious. What was he afraid to show?
“No, I…ah, relationships are kinda bullshit and casual stuff, well, I don’t fuck around on the job.”
That wasn’t what Eddie had meant with his question, and he couldn’t tell if Harrington was avoiding saying whether he was straight or not by deflecting. But if the guy was queer Eddie felt he would have gotten Eddie’s point. So yeah, probably straight. That wouldn’t deter him from flirting in the future though.
Read more on October 10!
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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x21 Snow Drifts (Part 2)
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Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.
Word Count: 589
Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (25) (26) (27) (28)
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Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.
They walked in silence for several moments, Killian shaking his smarting hand.   He hadn’t taken into account how blasted solid his former self’s jaw was when he decided to wallop him.
“I wasn’t going to let it go anywhere, you know,” Emma said, giving him a tentative side glance.
“Pardon, love?” Killilan asked, brows furrowed.
“You know, that whole make out session with him…or…you…or…whatever,” she said. “I know he was expecting a tumble in the sheets–”
He grinned wickedly before waggling his brows in an exaggerated manner.  “With a lass as tantalizing as you, I rather doubt we’d make it to the sheets.  I’d probably take you right there against the ladder.”
He saw a delightful shade of pink spread across her cheeks and felt more than a little satisfaction that he’d managed to affect her even a fraction as much as she affected him.
“But,”  she said, apparently deciding the best course of action was to pretend he’d never interrupted “I had no intention of letting it go that far, no matter how well he kisses.  A few seconds longer, and I’d have decked him so we could get the hell out of here.  I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Oh I know,” he said, smiling. “You’re a fearsome lass, and you’d leave many a pirate quaking in his boots.”
She smiled back at him, and he was sure he’d be willing to do anything to keep that delightful smile on her face.
“Anyway, if you were, I don’t know, jealous of him…yourself…whatever,” she said, “I just wanted to let you know.”
He smiled wistfully.  “He was a bloody git,” he said, his voice disgusted.  “He deserved far worse than that.”
She was silent for a second, and he could tell that she understood him, that she knew he was talking about far more than Captain Hook trying to get into the skirts of a fetching woman.
“Killian,” she said gently, as they slowly walked toward Midas’s castle, “I know you did bad things in the past, but who of us hasn’t?”
“Far be it from me to disagree with you, love,” Killian said bitterly, “but your transgressions couldn’t have been anything compared to mine.  That man lying unconscious on the Jolly… There’s no way to expunge the dark deeds he’s done.”
“Bullshit,” Emma said, and his brows rose at her emphatic tone as well as her profanity. “Killian, that man is you.  You may have lost your way, but you’re a good man. You’ve always been a good man at your core.  I could have defended myself if I’d needed to, but I knew I didn’t.  Even at the height of your bad guy days and drunk out of your mind, I know you would never have hurt me.”
For a moment, this simple statement of faith rendered him speechless, and when he spoke, his voice was not quite steady.  “You trust me that much? Truly?”
Her smile was just a little bit tender.  “Of course,” she said simply.
The moment was charged, the tension crackling between them. Emma swayed toward Killilan, and he mirrored her action, his eyelids started to flutter as their lips moved closer…closer.
Suddenly there was a scurry of motion and a rabbit darted past, a fox close on its furry heels (Incidentally, do rabbits have heels?) and the mood was broken.  Emma took a step back, her cheeks pinkening once again.
After a moment Killian grinned, raising an eyebrow.  “Might we return to the topic of how well I kiss?”
NEXT CHAPTER->
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thatmexisaurusrex · 3 months
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i wanna hear more about the pi/art thief au!! 💞✨
wip game
Oooh, so this one has been a long time coming. I've had a draft of this for literal years and I know people keep asking about it, but I actually pulled it out to edit and work on it for a request by @ninesdb for a charity thing. It's going to come out soon after some beta work is done on it. But yeah, it's what it says on the tin - Private Investigator Sam Wilson who deals mostly with art theft finds himself on a case where he's in search of the infamous art thief the White Wolf. Here's a little snippet from the fic:
“Didn’t plan for this winter, huh?” asked Sam, because Sam was slowly transforming into his mother, just talking to random people in line.
The man turned, and there was something gripping about his eyes. Not just because they were a color that stood out, this color that reminded Sam of the ice grotto in Mer de Glace when Riley had convinced him that Chamonix, France was worth a visit when they decided to go on vacation across Europe.
Before.
Well.
His death.
What stood out was the sheer surprise, like no one ever talked to him before. Or maybe he was just shy. It would be Sam’s luck to try to chat up the shyest guy in the line, like some strange worse sequel to Flight of the Concord’s ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the Room’.
The Most Shyest Guy in the Line.
“Um. What?” asked the guy, his voice… god, why was his voice like smooth whiskey?
There was an intense disconnect with his height, his voice, his entire look and his personality and none of this should be working for Sam.
And it was ridiculous.
Sam was a mess right now.
He wasn’t in a headspace to even think about someone else.
Stop that, Sam.
Work on yourself before jumping the first cute person you see in a line.
“You’re shivering. You definitely didn’t dress properly for the weather,” said Sam, because his brain and his mouth weren’t collaborating anymore, “New to town or tourist?”
The man shrugged stiff from the cold, a small smile on his face as he looked away, and oh, wait, no, maybe the shrug wasn’t stiff, it was the left arm, the man doing his best to hide it. And Sam knew the signs of someone worried about people being uncomfortable about a missing limb.
An intense amputation, from what Sam could tell, since doctors usually tried to save legs and arms below elbows and knees to give a person the best quality of life possible yet it looked like it was probably the entire shoulder down.
Sam would tell him it was okay. He knew people with missing limbs. One wouldn’t make Sam uncomfortable.
But.
Bringing attention to it might scare him off. Would probably be rude. Sam decided to only bring it up if the man brought it up first.
“I don’t know. I suppose I’m visiting for a bit,” said the man, hand shoved farther into his leather jacket, “I’m a grad student. Art history. I was actually here to study the Wakanda exhibit that the British Museum loaned to the National Gallery. I sort of specialize in jewelry, clothing, and weavings, so I was hoping to see the Damisa-Sarki Habit.”
Sam frowned, trying to remember if he saw that in the exhibit (Sam didn’t remember seeing anything marked “Damisa-Sarki Habit”), though, it wasn’t as if he saw the entire exhibit, and Sam knew the only thing that was stolen (since the White Wolf generally only took one specific item every time) was the Panther Necklace. Sam knew he probably shouldn’t say anything, but didn’t want the guy to waste his money on a ticket.
“The entire Wakandan exhibit is closed right now, actually. You’d find this out if you walk in anyways, but, um… there was an incident last night and they had to shut down the entire area.”
“Really?” said the man, blinking, “I guess I rode all the way from Brooklyn for nothing.”
“Rode?” echoed Sam, like an extremely smart person.
The guy smiled a bit bigger, letting out a little laugh, making eye contact with those goddamn intense eyes as he said, “I own a motorcycle.”
No, Sam.
You do not find him driving a motorcycle attractive.
That attractive.
Fuck.
Wait.
“Why weren’t you ready for winter if you’re from New York?” asked Sam, confused.
The man shrugged.
“I’m not usually in New York,” explained the man, “I go to grad school elsewhere. But I was visiting someone and they’re taking care of my motorcycle at the moment. I sort of decided to come here impromptu this morning since the person I was visiting was busy today.”
Sam tried not to show his disappointment. Because of course he was visiting someone. Had someone, probably. Some girlfriend or boyfriend or someone. Someone he trusted enough to do upkeep on his motorcycle. And Sam and this man had just met, like, five seconds ago. It made no sense for Sam to feel this heartbroken.
“Sorry you wasted your time,” said Sam, genuinely apologetic.
That was over a three-hour drive by car.
“I think the exhibit’s going to be here for another few months,” continued Sam, “So, maybe you can catch it another day?”
“Yeah. I could do that. And I don’t think I wasted my time,” said the man, much more suave than he started out, “I got to meet you, after all. I’m Bucky, by the way.”
“Sam,” said Sam, a little too quick, probably because Sam was definitely too much of a mess to be doing something like this, “Sam. I’m Sam. Nice to meet you, Bucky. It’s Bucky, right? I think I’ve only heard of one other Bucky before.”
There was something warm about Bucky’s eyes as he stepped towards the barista, saying, “Nice to meet you, too. What about I buy you your coffee?”
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cloudwhisper23 · 6 months
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We're moving right along, fam! Happy Grumbo Month! Thanks again to @grow-bettah for the prompts! (Had a bit of difficulty with this one, but I hope y'all enjoy it anyway!)
Day 8: Matching
Scar needed to borrow a suit. To look professional, he told Mumbo. He needed to look good, and since he and Mumbo were the same height, Mumbo was the best option to ask for help.
Mumbo was the best option to ask for help, honestly. He was very accustomed to wearing his suit, so it was only natural that Scar turned to him. Except, Scar wanted to borrow a suit. And Mumbo only had one.
He told Scar the issue, and Scar said it was no problem. Mumbo could borrow his clothes for a day.
So now, Mumbo was sitting on the floor holding his knees as Scar showed him different options. He was uncomfortable with all of them so far.
“Not to rag on your fashion sense, mate, but-“
“Do not finish that sentence, Mumbo.”
“Right.” Mumbo slouched, letting his legs finally stretch in front of him. “Do you have anything less over-the-top?”
“I do. I just figured that since your whole thing is…” Scar gestured at Mumbo. “Well, you’re always in the suit! I thought you’d want something fashionable.”
“Fashionable and over-the-top are not always the same thing, mate. But I think the word you meant was formal. And it’s not that I can’t be casual. I just like the suit better.”
“Okay. I know that, which is why I was trying to match to that.”
Mumbo shook his head. “It’s not quite the same thing.”
“So you want to try something more casual?”
“I may as well give it a shot,” Mumbo replied. “But don’t forget, Scar. I will need the suit back. I have a very important meeting tomorrow.”
“Yes, you need to be all professional for when you meet Grian. I know, I know.” Scar pulled out a green sweater. “How’s this?”
“Better.” Mumbo felt his shoulders sag with relief. “That will work, Scar.”
Later that day, Scar waited for Mumbo to return before giving him some bad news. “So, the meeting went poorly.”
“Okay.” Mumbo shifted slightly in the sweater. “Why are you wearing different clothes?”
Scar winced. “Well, when some people consider something to be terrible, they throw things. Things that make a mess and stain.”
“Oh, Scar!” Mumbo exclaimed. “What have you done?”
“I didn’t mean to, Mumbo! I’m sorry!”
“Now what am I supposed to wear tomorrow?” Mumbo buried his face in his hands. “I was meant to be making a good impression.”
“Well, I’ve done some research on this Grian guy, and I think a sweater would do just fine. That’s what he typically wears anyway.”
“I can’t just come in and steal the man’s style, Scar.”
“Well, it’s not stealing if it’s temporary. Besides, he’d probably see you as a fan, not a usurper. You already have the whole look with the mustache and the suit and everything. And he probably knows that too. It would be flattering!”
Mumbo sighed. “Fine then. What kind of sweater would you have me wear?”
Scar brightened. “I have just the one.”
Grian wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that Mumbo Jumbo was running late. Honestly, he thought the time and location he’d sent had been clear enough. Apparently not.
The judges didn’t seem to mind that Grian’s competition was running late, but then again, Grian was used to this sort of thing. Maybe they’d try and start right when Mumbo Jumbo got here. It certainly seemed like something they would do.
His fingers twitched toward the Creative inventory. Grian was too on edge, and they needed to get started. Buildswap wasn’t the only thing Grian needed to work on today. Where is he?
Just when Grian was preparing to call it, Mumbo appeared next to him, blabbing apologies. Grian cut him off immediately. “Where have you been?”
“Fashion emergency?” Mumbo scratched his neck.
“You were panicking about what to wear? Mumbo Jumbo, this is a build battle. Who cares what you’re wearing? The judges certainly don’t.” Grian shook his head, finally looking at the other man. “And-“
He fell silent, even as the judges grinned at each other. Grian blinked, expecting the red sweater to change into something else. Literally anything other than what it was.
“I had to borrow some clothes-” Mumbo started.
“We match,” Grian cut him off again.
There was another painful pause. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get started.”
Mumbo nodded weakly, and the rest of the competition passed without incident. The conversation between them was somewhat stilted, but at the very least, the judges were able to help Grian warm up. This certainly was the man’s element, Mumbo noticed.
When Grian gave him a contact card to plan another session, Mumbo was just grateful that he was getting another chance. He hadn’t completely messed things up with Grian, at least. The man was willing to work with him again! That was something, right?
For the next Buildswap, Mumbo was ready. He’d gotten his suit cleaned, and the familiar material made him feel much more comfortable. He wasn’t even late this time!
Grian was noticeably absent though.
The two judges from last time didn’t seem too bothered by it, having their own discussion off to the side.
A tug at his sleeve made Mumbo jolt. “Something wrong?” Grian asked innocently.
“You weren’t here a moment ago.” Mumbo relaxed.
“Nah, I’ve been here the whole time. Invisibility just wore off.” Grian smiled cheekily. “Like my outfit?”
Mumbo glanced down at him. “What on earth…?”
Grian had an ill-fitting suit that mirrored Mumbo’s own suit, black with a red tie. “I guess we match again.” His smile widened. “What a strange coincidence.”
“That was an accident!”
“How do you know this wasn’t an accident?”
“The suit doesn’t even fit you,” Mumbo pointed out.
“Neither did the sweater. It seemed a bit tight on you,” Grian shot back, still smiling.
Mumbo’s eyebrows furrowed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. He was grateful that was the moment when the judges decided to nudge them into starting.
He wasn’t sure what to think of the implications that Grian might’ve been checking him out.
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xiaosonlybeloved · 7 months
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Daydreams~ Soukoku
featuring:- Dazai Osamu x Nakahara Chuuya (bsd) tags:- literally none, just fluff, not proofread at all, college au, so my depiction of college might be inaccurate a/n:- amazing just great im going soft :/ also there will be a part 2 to this, maybe more bc i didnt even get to include the main plot point i had for this fic lmao, anyways probably expect me to disappear again haha
wc:- 1.4k || masterlists
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Chuuya hesitantly walks into the campus, hoping he didn’t draw much attention to himself. After all, it was his first year here, and he’d just moved in from another city. The last thing he needed was unwanted attention right in the beginning of the year. 
Thankfully, he seems to blend in well with the crowd, and he can easily admire the large campus without being called out for it. A relieved smile rests on his face as he keeps his stuff into his locker, checking his schedule for the day. 
When there’s around 5 minutes left for the first lecture, Chuuya goes to head off to class, but instead his books end up clattering to the ground as he violently bumps into someone much taller than him the moment he turns. Annoyed, he steps back to pick up his books, glancing to see the rude person who had been rushing through the corridors so late. 
‘Gods, he’s pretty.’ Is the first thought that goes through Chuuya’s mind the moment he sees the face framed in soft brown curls. 
“Oh, sorry there, you’re so short I didn’t see you, chibi!” The brunette he just met for the first time cheerfully and mockingly says to him as an apology. Naturally, the next thing that Chuuya thinks is ‘Why the hell is he so annoying.’ The boy was clearly late on the first day, and then he has the audacity to make fun of his height? With such a sorry excuse of an apology when he was the one who bumped into Chuuya? “Oi, what the hell did you call me? I’m not short, you get that? I’m still growing. And keep your eyes and head on the ground, not in the sky, or you’ll take a nasty fall soon.” Chuuya retorts angrily, pushing past the irritating (irritatingly pretty) brunette so that he wasn’t late, unlike a certain someone. Of course though, during his short walk to class, his thoughts were plagued by someone he’d rather not think about.
Thankfully, he was well in time for class, having gotten some time to socialize too. He thinks he’s met some nicer people, who introduced themselves as Gin, Akutagawa and Higuchi. ‘Today might actually be the beginning of some new friendships.’ he thought with a smile as the hall quietened down when the lecturer walked in. 
******
The lecturer, Oda Sakunosuke, had just started to get into the flow around 5 minutes later, when the door burst open with a very late attendee. The lecturer doesnt seem surprised. “Ah, sorry I’m late, got held up.” says the person who just came in, searching for an empty seat while Oda continued to speak.. 
The pretty guy he bumped into earlier? They shared this class?
And just great. The only empty seat in the hall was beside Chuuya, which meant that the only place the goddamn annoying brunette had to sit in was beside him. “Nice to see you again chibi, didn’t know we shared classes.” The brunette, whose name he still didn’t know, whispered to him with a grin as he settled himself, taking out a notebook. “Can’t you shut up for a while? As you can see, I’m actually paying attention, unlike you.” He whispers back, irritated already, taking notes.
“But this is boringg~” he whined softly. Chuuya slowly exhaled, ignoring the tiresome brunette. (He’s trying his best to not look at him- he doesn’t want to end up admiring the  infuriatingly charming face on the infuriatingly not-charming personality.)
Some time into the lecture, he finds a torn piece of paper on his desk with something scribbled on it. ‘Damn, his handwriting is pretty too. Unfair.’ Chuuya thinks. The paper reads: ‘Chibiiii, entertain me, I have nothing to do!’ with a dumb emoticon after it. He wrinkles his nose as he writes ‘Not interested, focus on the lecture. Don’t irritate me.’ and passes it back to the brunette.
‘Like I said, I’m bored. I don’t even know your name, chibi. :( ’
‘Not like I care, and stop calling me that, my name is Chuuya.’
‘Hmmm, Chuuya, such a pretty and fitting name for such a short person. Well, mine’s Dazai ’
’Thanks ig, and I’m. Not. Short. You’re just taller than average, which is your fault, Now shut the hell up.’
‘No!’
Chuuya crumples the paper from Dazai and puts it under his desk to throw away later. At least he now has a name to put on the person who seems determined to bother him to death. ‘Dazai’s a nice name though.’
When the lecture ended and the students started filing out in small groups, Oda called him and some others. With a gentle smile, he says, “You’re all new here, aren’t you? For you to get accustomed to the campus faster, I’ll be assigning partners to you all who will be showing you around the campus and helping you out whenever you need. In my class, if there are paired projects, these students will be the one you’ll be paired with, for the sake of convenience. Any questions?” When there’s none, he nods and starts calling out the names. The respective student and their partner head off together then. 
When his turn comes, Dazai pops up behind him. “Hello again, chibi Chuuya~ And Oda, I suppose.” Oda ignores him and says, “Dazai, you'll be Chuuya's partner for the year. Don't annoy him or overwhelm him. Get that? If I get any complaints from him, you'll have to deal with me.” “Yes yes Oda, bla bla bla I get that. ” Dazai rolls his eyes, faking an uninterested yawn, and Chuuya again finds himself surprised at his audacity, towards a lecturer no less. “Chuuya, please don't hesitate to inform me if you have any complaints towards him.” Oda tells him, and he nods and Oda dismisses him and Dazai. 
Dazai sticks to him like a dumb piece of gum after that. First on the claim of ‘showing Chuuya around’, which was just him showing Chuuya his favorite spots- which were all quite dangerous by the way, like the mostly abandoned terrace with very weak railings that could possibly break at any moment. Then because he ‘didnt have anyone to sit with’ during lunch. So Dazai ended up sitting with him, Gin, Akutagawa, Higuchi, and two of their older friends who were in second year, Kouyou and Tachihara. He already liked Kouyou because she was a redhead too, and Tachihara was surprisingly easy to get along with. Dazai mostly remained silent, occasionally giving his random opinions on something or teasing Chuuya on his height. Why was Dazai so stuck on it anyways? He was still growing! (Too bad he never did-) Naturally, Chuuya angrily responded with his own insults to Dazai's creative ones, while the others merely laughed at his expense. 
********
Chuuya always complained about Dazai being a pest and a menace, but if he would be honest with himself, (which he wouldn't) he enjoyed having Dazai around. The annoyingly pretty brunette was amusing to be around as the days passed, and they honestly connected with each other when it came to important stuff. And although he rarely ever contributed to their group projects, which was incredibly infuriating, whenever he did, his inputs were extremely useful. It made Chuuya want to kick him for not doing more, the asshole. Not that he hadn't done that- he often threw light punches at Dazai when he teased him about his height, but nothing much. And they actually had each other's backs, despite all the teasing and punching. 
All in all, they were very ripe opportunities for Chuuya to start falling for the brunette. I mean, he already had the first time he saw Dazai, y'know? Just that he kinda kept pushing them away, firmly in denial. By the end of the highly eventful year, even his friends had started noticing it, giving them great blackmail material to use against Chuuya.
Eventually, one random day in the second semester, Chuuya ended up wondering if somehow something would change after the end of the year. 
reblogs, comments and votes are very much appreciated <33
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