swordsandholly · 4 months ago
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology
MDNI | Poly 141 x Fem Fat Reader | masterlist
Part 1: New Girl
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You stare up at the sign reading ONE - FOUR - ONE in old English font. It’s an old building, all brick and stuffed in between several others. The windows have a thin, semi-opaque cover them to let in the light without allowing you to see inside.
You make your way to the front door, trying the handle and feeling stupid the moment you do. Your eyes connect with a small intercom beside you and you press it. There’s a small buzz, then silence.
A few beats go by, you debate pressing it again. You don’t want to be too insistent.
“Hello?” A voice comes through just before you reach up to press again.
“I, uh…” You stutter. Despite having many, many tattoos you somehow still feel like a poser every time you enter a new studio. “I have an appointment at one? With John?”
The man on the other side confirms your name before buzzing you in, the door letting out a loud click before you step inside. It both makes you more nervous and more relaxed - you can appreciate a closed storefront like that. Especially for something often as private as tattoos and piercings, but it still feels like you’re doing something wrong. Just a little bit.
The front room is lovely, though. The texture over the glass bathes the front room in a calm, iridescent light. There are a few waiting chairs, a low, black table piled high with books of flash. The front of the high counter is covered with posters and stickers from events going all the way back to the 90s.
The pretty man behind the counter repeats your name absently, obviously thinking about other things. Probably the half-finished design that sits abandoned on the iPad next to the appointment book he’s staring down at. You just nod in agreement.
“I’ll let John know you’re here.” He nods back, turning and pushing through a pair of saloon style doors to disappear down the hall. You take the time he’s gone to look around, flipping through yet another small book of designs on top of the counter. They’re good. Unique. Very gothic and interestingly detailed. Somehow both fine and bold simultaneously.
“Afternoon.” You jump, snapping the book shut and looking up to meet a pair of soft blue eyes and an easy smile. He looks you over briefly before extending his hand. “John Price.”
You murmur your name quietly, trying very hard to not stare at the incredible traditional work patched into a sleeve up his strong arm. Damn.
He leads you back to his work station - past a piercing studio and across from another room with the door shut and an IN SESSION sign on the door. The dull, buzzing sound of a tattoo machine drifts through.
“Now,” John says as he cuts down the extra paper around the stencil. “Just remember if you don’t like the placement we can move it. No problem.”
“Okay.” You nod, appreciative that he mentioned it. Sometimes these older men in the industry are gruff and have an attitude if you do anything less than treat them as if they are anything other than Absolutely Right and Perfect. Not that John came off that way. There’s a softness in his affect that relaxes your muscles and leaves you breathing easy.
“I know y’have several but I’m still going t’do a line and then see how you feel.” He murmurs, voice low.
It’s sweet, the way he’s walking you through it all despite the piece being small and you obviously having done with process several times. The sting of the needle is as expected and you murmur that it was fine before he really gets to work.
“Just let me know if y’need a break…” He mumbles, voice dipping even lower as he concentrates on his work. In any other situation that rumble would probably have you squirming in your seat. There’s a silence for a while before he speaks again, almost as if he forgot you were there. “This design have any significance?”
“I just wanted to get a new tattoo in my new hometown.” You snort - now at the point where most of your tattoos fall under the ‘because it’s cool’ category. “Probably stupid, seeing as I don’t have a job yet but… I don’t know. Feels like good luck.”
John grins. “Well then, thanks f’lettin’ me be your good luck charm.”
Your face heats at the rumble in his voice - glancing away nervously.
There’s another lapse of silence while he works, the only words exchanged are when he asks if you need a break and you decline. Eventually, toward the end you think, he asks another question. “What brought y’here then? If not a job?”
You would shrug, but you try to keep as still as possible while he works. “Just needed a change. Found an apartment easy enough - now I just need a way to make money.”
He hums in agreement. “What do you have experience in? Been around here a while - might be able to recommend somethin’.”
“Oh! Thank you!” You brighten up. “Receptionist work, mostly. Some admin assistant stuff.”
He pauses, cocking an eyebrow. “Y’know, we’re hirin’ right now.”
“Yeah?” You tilt your head. “I don’t have, like, a resume with me.”
“You’ve got enough tattoos I’m assumin’ you know how the industry works. My apprentice is going to start actually tattooin’ soon, an’ I hate t’ have him still pickin up extra duties at the front.” He sits back, carefully smoothing saniderm onto your arm before turning and reaching for the ink-stained sketchbook behind him. “Tell y’what, you write down a few references for me and your number. If they’ve got good things t’ say we can do a trial period.”
You blink at him. He’s awful forward, and insistent, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. A temp job is better than no job. “Alright…”
Just like that, you gained employment by way of making a stupid financial decision.
John’s an incredible boss. He pays fairly (generously, but you know better than to accidentally negotiate your pay down). He gives you plenty of hours and trains you well - with the help of his apprentice. He doesn’t get annoyed when you ask questions, seeming content with your determination to do your job to the best of your abilities. The shop goes by appointment only - no walk ins and potential customers have to call to book. John keeps things old fashioned like that. All pen and paper and cash transactions. An ATM sits in the waiting area. The most complicated part of your job is changing out the cash box in it, and that only take a few days to learn. Not that you mind, it’s sort of refreshing to not deal with some fuckass new and “improved” register and appointment system.
Turns out part of the reason they operate in such a way (other than preference) is because John is a big name in the tattoo world. You hadn’t realized until he pointed out a couple of your flash tattoos were from his best-selling book of designs.
“Wait, you’re famous!?” You gasp, staring wide eyed at the old binder of newspaper clippings and book sales. ‘My Mum Wasn’t Impressed At First - Now Even She Has One’ reads the title of one of the older clippings - yellowed with age. John lacks his signature beard in the photo. It almost looks wrong.
John chuckles, crossing his arms and leaning back in his rolling chair. “You could say that. You really didn’t know about our shop before you booked?”
You shake your head. “Nah, I just saw y’all get recommended on Reddit.”
He barks out a laugh at that. It’s a low, pleased sound that sends a shiver down your spine. His beard only emphasizes the apples of his cheeks as he smiles. Yeah, that’s the other thing, having a hot boss is kind of fire.
Plus, he’s not the only one. The whole studio is full of hunks.
Kyle is easily the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. Like, run for Miss Universe pretty. Big doe eyes with a little scar on his cheekbone - small golden hoops glitter from both his earlobes. They frame his face so well, creating a perfect diamond from them to his sparkling eyes to his pretty smile; curled and genuine with perfect teeth. He walks you through the booking process step by step, that first day, a warm hand on your back and the other tracing down the columns of the physical appointment book.
His work is as beautiful as he is. At least, the ones done on fake skin. John hasn’t let him tattoo anyone for real yet - but his practice sketches are immaculate. At least to a layman. Kyle himself never seems quite satisfied with them. He gets such vivid color, though.
“Tattooing darker skin is an art form in and of itself.” He murmurs as he works on a piece of very dark fake skin. “I want people like me t’ be able t’ get exactly what they want, with just as much color as they want.”
You nod along, sipping at your coffee from across the street that you’ve taken up stopping at every day before work. Kyle has so much passion for the industry. The look he gets in his eyes while talking about it or designing a new piece makes your heart flutter.
Simon, the other resident artist, you’re the least familiar with. You can’t quite decide how to feel about him, or decipher how he feels about you. John introduced you a couple days after you started, but all you got was a perfunctory nod and a ‘good luck’. You couldn’t help but feel starstruck, despite his blunt nature. Both thick arms covered in full, detailed sleeves. High quality, ornate black work. A man of stature - six feet and some change with a breadth that a barn would envy. Pretty, blonde hair cropped just short of turning to curls and dark eyes that bore through you to the very core.
Sometimes, when he comes to ask about his next appointment, you let yourself indulge in the fantasy that he stands close because he likes you. That his knee briefly knocks against yours because he wants to touch you - not that you’re crazy enough to believe it. Just crazy enough to be a tiny bit delusional for the fun of it.
You meet their resident piercer on the weekend. Apparently, he’d been away visiting family your first week.
He leans up over the counter, grinning at you from ear to ear. A well-built man only a few inches shorter than the others with a perfectly groomed mohawk. “Well, hello there. Aren’t you a bonnie little thing?”
You frown, hackles raising instinctually. “Uh, can I help you?”
“Och, they dinnae tell ye about me yet? I’m hurt.” He pouts, thick brows emphasizing the puppy like nature of his blue eyes.
“Let her be, Soap.” Kyle sighs heavily, walking to his area of the front with a fresh sketchbook.
“Soap?” You repeat.
“Aye. Cause apparently I need my mouth washed out.” He pokes his tongue out, only to reveal a silver piercing. He holds a hand over the counter. “Johnny MacTavish.”
Johnny is the most egregious man you have ever met - always touching you in one way or another when he checks in about appointments and so on. His Scottish brogue rings in your ears, every word loud and confident. A hand finds it’s way around your waist, a finger poking under the band of whatever bottoms you wear that day. At any other job, you would have considered it harassment and tore him a new one.
Johnny’s different, though. If you shrug him off he steps away, if you flinch he pulls back. Plus, he does it to everyone else just as much as you. More, if you’re honest. If Simon is within arms reach they’re touching. You noticed Johnny pushing a hand under his shirt at one point, grabbing at the soft layer over Simon’s abs. (A great view for you, frankly.) Hell, you saw him casually hold Kyle’s hand while they were talking over lunch. Even John isn’t immune to the clinging. You don’t think much of it. Body modding attracts all sorts of people. If Johnny’s just a touchy guy then he’s just touchy. Besides, you don’t mind that much when he slips an arm around your waist or hooks his chin on your shoulder to talk to you. Warm breath tracing the shell of your ear with a quiet ‘bonnie lass’ punctuating ever other sentence. A slight pinch to your hip before he trots away to set up his station.
You feel nauseous when your trial month ends. John sits you down across from him in the back office. A practical space with not much more in it than a desk, computer and the large safe. None of you spend much time back here outside of counting down the cash and dragging the trash bags through the back door to the dumpster.
“Think you’ve done really well, dove.” He grins. You try to ignore the way the pet name looks warmth in your lower belly. “You’ve picked up quickly, you’re good on the phone. Kyle’s been very happy about the extra time to practice.”
You let out the biggest, most relieved sigh of your life, shoulders slumping slightly.
“You don’t seem to mind Johnny, but if he gets to be too much let me or Simon know, yeah? He means well but he can be… well, you know.” John says absently as he reaches for something across the desk. “How are you feelin’?”
You nod. “I, uh, feel good. I like this position a lot. Everyone’s been very welcoming.”
John nods along. “Good, good. I see no reason to not hire you on full time. Here.”
You hold put your hands as John drops a small, silver key into them. Holy shit! You get your own key! Up until now they’d been buzzing you in, but they’re trusting you with your very own key!
John must see the excitement on your face because he chuckles and extends a hand. “Welcome aboard, kid.”
A/N: I was very wine drunk writing most of this and it has next to no editing but I hope you enjoyed it! I just want something I can write that’s episodic and not as serious/brain heavy as Fancy or Across the Way
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sweetnans · 4 months ago
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Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.3)
Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader
Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.
summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.
a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.4 ♡
m.list
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As the week passed, everything seemed quiet about the gossip you starred. Everyone knew and you knew that your act was in everyone's tongue. People's audacity sometimes surprised you, some girls came to you in the middle of lunch to ask you about it and even when you mastered faking dementia they were sarcastic about it saying to you "Yeah right" like you were lying, well, you were but, they had the guts to doubt you in front of your face.
By Thursday it was a forgotten fact. Some junior kid went straight to one of the teachers changing his suit in the changing room and, that was the bomb that dethroned you.
You were finally relieved and breathing easy through the day. The stares weren't aiming at you and Bakugo wasn't in your sight even. It was like he was banished from existence right after you left him hanging in the cafeteria.
You couldn't be more glad.
Friday, almost in the middle of the day, you made your way to the common bathrooms, and to your luck, there wasn't anyone there. You didn't have to make a line to shower or to brush your teeth, it was like all the girls from your building were conspiring about missing class. You couldn't blame them, If it wasn't for Aizawa's class, you would be skipping class too. You surely didn't realize that the fact that the bathroom was empty was only because it was almost noon.
Jirou wasn't in your training class, the group was large enough to put all of you in one class so they made sections with a limited amount of students per class to use the facilities without any capacity problem.
Luckily, Denki was with you.
Once you got into the class, you were almost struck by the invisible line dividing two sections of the class. There were people you knew who weren't in your class sitting on the left of the room while all your classmates were on the right. It felt weird, seeing Denki and Sero sitting so quietly, the absence of the obnoxious noise before Aizawa came and everyone shut up. You were about to make a joke about it when a big hand gripped your shoulder.
"You're on the right," Vlad said guiding yourself towards an empty seat, in between Sero and Denki who were sitting behind you, and Kendo who was sitting in front.
You were dumbfounded. Where was Aizawa? Why was he mixing classes?
Kendo was in the empty seat in front of you. Why were you sitting alone? You were eager to change seats and sit beside Kendo but Vlad looked like he had everything planned, including the scheme of the class.
"What's going on?" you asked your friends behind you and they only shook their heads with the same look at you.
"We were expecting you'd know" Sero shrugged with a worried look on his face.
You bit the inside of your cheek and grabbed your phone to text Aizawa. Was he okay? Was he hurt? He had never missed a class.
"Kendo, do you know what's happening?" You tapped the shoulder of the girl, and she leaned slightly over your seat.
"Aizawa called a day off at the last minute so now Vlad is here taking sensei's class but mixing it up with his own class" she whispered to your side.
"Why is he dividing us?" Denki asked joining the conversation.
"I think he is putting his class on the left side and-
Kendo interrupted herself when Vlad positioned Iida, one of the students of Aizawa's class on the left side.
"Okay, nevermind"
Shota: I'll be out of town for the weekend. See you on Sunday.
Always so talkative.
Shota: Feed the cat while I'm gone. Eri is with me.
Thank god he elaborated a bit.
You were clutching your phone in your hand, looking and trying to decipher why Vlad was putting you and your classmates on different sides of the room.
You: Vlad has this entire map of the class, and he is putting us strategically dividing us into sides. Do you know something about this?
You tapped the send button and waited patiently while the three dots appeared on the screen. He was typing.
"Bakugo, over there. Right there in the empty seat, " Vlad said out loud, making all the students turn their heads to your figure.
Why? Exactly, you guessed. The only empty seat was by your side.
Bakugo glanced at you like you were a minuscule bug in the middle of his way, ready to step on it. He gruffed and walked lazily to the seat where he dropped his gigantic backpack.
He didn't even say hello or something sarcastic like you expected. He was almost as annoyed as you with the change of plans.
Shota; No idea. The cat eats only two cups of food per day, one in the morning and the other by dawn.
That was so dad behavior.
You could hear how Denki was moving on his seat uncomfortably, probably waiting for you two to start bickering like the other day, but you were in zen mode, looking forward to knowing what was the maniac idea that Vlad had on his mind.
"I separated the group in two, we have body combat quirks here on the left and combat from afar here on the right. In pairs, you're going to improve your quirks against people with similar quirks. This mode of training will open your mind because it is one thing to know how to control your own quirk, but it's a different thing to control a similar type of quirk when it's against yourself. Understood? See you in the field"
Lord have mercy.
"Your pair is the one that's sitting by your side. I'll be rotating people from the same side when I see you've excelled"
The last announcement before everyone took their shit and started their way to the battleground had you stuck like glue on your seat. Your streak of not seeing Bakugo all week ended up gracefully having you to prove yourself against him. You could almost feel the burns and the bruises you would have on your skin after trying and failing to dodge him. There was not enough amount of training that would prevent you from ending up on recovery girl.
The class went by exactly how you expected. He was tearing you up into pieces. Every chance he had to blow you up, he used it wisely. From time to time, you had your chances too of using your quirk as fuel, making his own explosion turn against him, popping him out like a firecracker.
"What the fuck was that?" He was fuming, figuratively and literally.
You had the opportunity to bathe him in your dust while he was so busy being cocky with his quirk that he didn't realize the little sprinkles on his suit until it was too late.
"What? This is training class, right? Aren't we supposed to be combating?" You downplayed your move, but he wasn't taking it. "Oh, is it too much for you?
Of course, you couldn't keep your mouth shut.
He stomped big steps with his ginormous legs until he was in front of your small figure. It was amusing seeing the difference between both of your heights. He was at least one and a half head taller than you, and his broad shoulders and back were at least three times your body. You felt petite and scared when his shadow engulfed your own.
"Watch it, princess. If you play with fire, you might get burnt, " he said with his jaw tight, his muscles showing the fine line that demarcated his face.
"Fire? Your quirk is about explosions. I wouldn't grab a fucking ticking bomb even if they paid me" you smart-talked back glaring at him like he wasn't about to throw you out the atmosphere.
"Hey, knock it off," the red-haired friend of Bakugo yelled from the other side.
You looked at him, but he wasn't aiming his accusing eyes at you. He was looking at his friend, who had both hands clacking with tiny explosions at the side of his body. A subtle threat for you.
"Times up! Change partners!" Vlad blew a whistle in the exact moment to stop the chaos.
Fortunately, you ended up with Denki, who gave you enough time to crack your back and rub some of the bruises that Bakugo left on your body. Great, It took you three days to erase the hickeys and now you had an excessive amount of purple bruises to constantly remind you that he had another chance to mark your skin.
After the class that took a couple of hours away from your life, you carried your ass to take a hot shower. Since the class ended a little later than usual, the sun was actually setting when you walked out of the changing rooms.
You checked your phone before deciding on what to do. You didn't have many choices, to be honest, maybe lay down for the night and watch a sappy romantic comedy, the one you would die to live.
Jirou: I know you said no more parties, but they are throwing a big one that we can't miss just a few blocks away, Denki can get us in. Pretty pretty, please.
Jirou: Fuck it, I don't care what you say we are going anyway.
Your fate was already set.
Shota: Don't forget the cat.
And you had to feed the cat.
The walk to the teacher's building wasn't odd to you. Some students found it like a forbidden path to walk on, but it seemed very familiar to you. Many times, sometimes many times a day, you walk through it, fetching something for Aizawa, like his bento that he constantly forgets, or taking Eri for a shopping spree or a quick walk to the park and of course your family reunion on Sunday. It wasn't weird for you to be there and It wasn't weird for the other teachers seeing you there.
You said quick "hello's" to the janitor and went straight to accomplish your mission.
Aizawa's cat was a cranky little bitch who only found comfort in Eri, who loved the cat, and Aizawa who rescued it. You weren't interested in gaining the cat's affection, but secretly, you were more than willing to take it as a challenge. You were going to make the cat love you.
After a few scratches and bites, you were on the floor feeding the cat and scratching her head in return. The cat purred under your touch, and your ego felt the boost, and because you needed to show off your new accomplishment, you sent a video of her to Aizawa.
Shota; Cute. There's band-aids in the bathroom cabinet. Those scratches look deep.
He was a sucker for his cat, and he spoiled her so much that the cat wasn't able to eat alone. You tried to stand up twice, but the cat started growling right away. After she was full, she jumped to the couch and snuggled up until she fell asleep. You couldn't believe the behavior of the cat and how Aizawa was okay with that.
After tidying up the place a little, rearranging Eri's clothes and cleaning up her room, you decided that you needed to go to your own room and get dressed up for the night.
You weren't going to drink.
You weren't going to make out with anyone.
And if Bakugo was there, you weren't going to be near him.
That was settled.
You opened the door to get on the hallway when a loud sound startled you.
"Jeez, watch out" the voice of the person you almost knocked with the door seemed very familiar. "What are you doing here?" Bakugo said glaring at you like he was seeing the most disgusting thing on earth.
"What are you doing here?" You attacked back, crossing your arms on top of your chest after closing the door behind you.
"You know this is sensei's apartment, right? He stated matter of factly.
"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes at him while he squinted his.
"So what are you doing here?" He was fast throwing questions and playing like he was a fucking cop. He quirked a brow, and you could swear you heard how he tapped his feet against the floor.
"Chill out, I'm just feeding the cat while he's gone." You did a quick glance towards the door and tried to dodge him and his stupid question. You weren't giving him your time again, not after you had burning marks and bruises all over your destroyed body because of him.
"Why you?" He followed you again and grabbed your arm firmly to make you stay put.
"Why me what?"
You were tired of him trying to talk to you like you were some sort of frenemies, you didn't even know him until a week ago. Yeah, you said things about his dick and the rumor spread like malaria, so what? You got over the fact that every student and teacher knew about your fling with him. He needed to get over it as well.
"Why did he ask you and not fucking Deku or Iida?" He asked.
Oh, he was analyzing the shit. Bakugo tried so hard to play subtle, but he needed to know everything that got under his nose and over his head.
"Uhm, I don't know, let me think... because he is my guardian, perhaps?" You dripped sarcasm all over the floor, but he looked actually impressed.
"No shit, Aizawa sensei is your fucking guardian?"
Fortunately, his jaw was attached to his face.
"Yeah, like you didn't know." You rolled your eyes and shook off his hand that were still attached to your arm.
"I fucking didn't! For fuck sake I fucked sensei's daughter" he exclaimed panicking. Well, Bakugo, tall figure, broad shoulders, muscled back, the man himself, didn't panicked like the other mortals, he panicked like a god, forget the wrinkles around his face, forget eyes wide open, he panicked like the meme of spongebob where a lot of spongebobs are running from fire, that happened in his mind while his face remained stoic.
"I'm not his daughter, and please get over it." You pressed your palm in your face and prayed to dissappear.
"But he adopted you, right?" You nodded. "Then he's legally your pops"
He had a point, and even when you and Aizawa implicitly established that you weren't going to call him dad, legally and in the eyes of the law, he was your dad.
"Your thick skull just can't get it, right?" You pinched the bridge of your nose and remembered where you were standing. Outside all the teachers' doors. "Then yeah, something like that"
"Shit." He looked like he was shitting himself from the news. You couldn't believe that something like that slipped through his fingers. He couldn't believe it either. He was friends with Mina for fuck sake, the real gossiper of the entire place.
"You haven't answered my question. What are you-" you tried again.
He was standing right in front of Aizawa's door on a Friday afternoon. Students knew the unspoken codes, no one would dare to look for a teacher in his own apartment, that's what offices are for.
"How about none of your fucking business, princess" he scoffed like he owned the world.
That's it. Your civilized conversation reached its final point.
"You are a pain in the ass." You showed him your middle finger, and the sleeve of your sweater dropped low in your arm, letting the cool breeze kiss the marks the cat left on you.
"What are those scratches?" He grabbed your arm again, but this time carefully. The pads of his fingers carresing the untended wound. "Was it me? They seem hurtful"
The cocky bastard knew damn well how to fucking pretend. He actually looked concerned, and the fact that he asked you if it was his fault made you spiral in your own turnmoil.
"Aizawa's cat," you murmured, trying to focus on anything but his touch. Vietnam flashbacks of that night came like a hurricane to your brain.
"Yeah, of course he has a cat," he grunted like it was obvious. That made you laugh a little, and he was fast enough to look at yourself with a giant question mark all over his face.
"Why are you so unimpressed by the fact that he has a cat, but you seemed shocked as hell when I told you he's my guardian? Is it okay for him to have a cat but not a kid?
The subtle way of your voice coming to his system made him realize that he was holding you close and that he felt okay with that, so he completely pivoted it physically and verbally.
"First of all gross, I didn't fuck any kid, you are grown ass woman" he let go of your arm and pushed his hands inside of the pockets of his jogger.
A fucking grey jogger you wouldn't have realized he was wearing if he didn't made that movement.
"Can you not-" You looked away for two reasons. One, the embarrassment again, and two, your hormones betraying you again.
He seemed like he had a fixation with your fling mentioning it like he was a broken record.
"Second of all, he barely looks like he can take care of himself, let alone a...you," he said. "Besides, I bet that cat behaves better than you"
"You're so annoying"
"I never wondered about you before, I thought that your existence was a product of spontaneous generation," he shrugged, and before you could leave, he asked. "Are you coming today?"
The party. The question caught you off guard, like you knew there was a party thanks to Jirou, but you never thought that he would address the fact and much less to you.
"What?" Faking dementia your best friend. There was one thing going and expected to see him there and going and actually seeing him there. And now that you knew that he would, in fact, be there, you weren't so eager to show up. You could fake a cold, just as you fake dementia sometimes.
"I said coming, not cumming"
You sprinted to put your hand on his mouth. The teachers could be within the reach of an arm listening to your very casual conversation with him, and he chose to slip away those kinds of things like it was nothing.
"Shut the fuck up," you murmured and pushed him until you were outside the building. You completely ignored the janitor's look. "I heard you very well"
"So, are you or not?" The damn idiot was smiling under your hand but when you took it off he had the same fine line as lips as always.
"I don't know, why do you care" you looked beside him, watching all the students go home or go to parties made you realize that you were late to meet Jirou.
"I don't" he shook his head and looked behind his back following your stare.
Bakugo didn't know what was happening in your head, the gears running and turning to make yourself disappear and reappear in your room to change your clothes real quick with a pissed Jirou talking your ear off about messing with people's time. He instead fixed your staring line with the first person that came to his sight, following your eyes and stopping in the one and only Todoroki.
He felt something hot bubbling inside his body like it was boiling in the pit of his stomach. Without noticing, his brows dropped low in a confused state, and he stared back at you. You seemed like you couldn't take your eyes off of him, and Todoroki was, in fact, staring back.
Were you two friends? He'd never seen you with him before. Was this new? Why was it bothering him anyway?
You blushed and looked at him again, shaking your head and leaving him feeling emotions he had never had before.
Damn half n' half, always trying to take away what's his.
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End note: Hey babes! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, next part is all about another party and we will see more interaction between these two shitheads.
A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)
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lacroixqueen · 3 months ago
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sparks fly - deadpool x fem!reader
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Summary: deadpool has been stalking reader who works at a diner. he ends up hatching a diabolical plan to get reader's attention
Pairing: fem!reader x deadpool
Word Count: 1.3k
Wade knew he was obsessed with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. 
It was a dark, rainy night in the city, and you were closing shift at the diner. You liked closing shift. Especially on weeknights like this when it was generally pretty quiet. You were placing dirty plates and utensils into the bus tub when you heard what you swore to be shattering dishes from the back of the kitchen. 
Your back stiffened as you peered over your shoulder to the shadowy, unlit part of the restaurant. 
“Hello..?” you called out carefully. 
Silence.
You carried on with your tasks for the remainder of the evening, unsure exactly of what you heard but too terrified to investigate. 
He was already watching you this entire time. He admired the subtle curve of your waist. How your apron tied around your hips in an adorable little bow. The way your thigh-high stockings dug ever so slightly into your skin. 
He knew that sneaking into this rinky dink little dinner to spy on some random girl he found somewhat attractive off of a split second impression was.. reckless to say the least. But recklessness has never stopped him before. 
Wade stationed himself next to the dishwasher, staying still as a statue until you turned around the corner.
“Boo,” he said without so much as a care in the world.
You screamed, of course, and instinctively threw your entire tray of plates at him. “What the fuck!”
“What the fuck is right!” he answered gleefully, effortlessly brushing the completely filled bus tub to the side, not even flinching as even more silverware crashed into the ground. “And you are actually in big trouble! Like biiiiig trouble. This entire diner, and probably all the buildings around it are going to be incinerated within the next.. 5 minutes? So if I were you, I would leave everything behind and follow me while you still have the chance.”
You watched as the diabolical man in what you could only describe as some sort of BDSM gimp suit pantomimed every single word that came out of his month with a bravado of a world renowned circus performer. 
“And.. who are you exactly?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest and raising your eyebrow. 
“Deadpool. Spelled like dead and pool,” he replied confidently, sticking his hand out.
“Uh huh,” you said, allowing him to shake your limp wrist. In your mind you were calculating the fastest way to reach the store phone to dial 9-11. “What a.. pleasure.”
“So.. you are coming with me,” he established. “As in, I am going to take you away from this building. Because it is about to blow up. There is a bomb some psycho what’s his face planted in the basement and you are way too pretty to die this young, so I am just going to have to rescue you right here right now.”
“You- what?” you stammered out, but before you could even muster another word, the mercenary had already swept you off your feet bridal style. “Hey! Put me down. Right now.”
“Yeah, sorry that’s not really gonna be an option sweetheart,” Wade snapped back with a wit as sharp as a knife. “Oh, and look at the time! Only one more minute left.”
And with those words, he quickly darted out the back door of the diner into a dingy alleyway. You reflexively wrapped your arms around his neck, taking note of how sturdy his arms felt underneath your legs. 
“Whatever you do,” you whispered through gritted teeth. “Don’t. Drop me.” 
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Wade chirped as he scurried down the avenue, maneuvering around a sharp corner. “You’re precious cargo, and besides, the whole point of this entire stunt was-”
Before he could even finish his sentence, you heard a loud “boom”, now realizing you were miles away from the diner you were just at. You felt the ground shake under Wade’s feet, and a gust of warm wind blowing from the explosion site. 
You gazed over Deadpool’s shoulder, and gasped as you watched the distant part of the city being engulfed in flames. 
“You.. you saved my life..” you murmured. “H-how did you even..”
“Well, if I were to lie, and we all know I am very good at that,” the assassin began. “I would say it was sort of a right place right time sort of situation. As in I was just innocently strolling around the block when I noticed a big bad evil villain, aka my arch nemesis plant a little, let’s just call it grenade downstairs. So, I, being the upstanding citizen that I am, decided to walk right in and save the day. Yay! Let’s just go with that.”
“And if you were to be honest?” you challenged, untangling yourself from his arms and stepping down onto the sidewalk. You realized since you were in a slightly calmer state of mind, and actually standing face-to-face to him under the streetlight, that he was literally towering over you by at least a head. 
“Hmm, you got me there princess,” he capitulated. “If I were being real, I would say the part about me being in the right place at the right time was true.”
“Go on,” you chided, beginning to rub the middle of your forehead. You could already feel that this was not about to end well.
“Buuuuut, you were just too cute. I really had no idea how to approach you. So, the most logical conclusion was to throw a wrench into the sink, or should I say a bomb into your diner, and time it perfectly so I could sneak in, pull you aside, and er, get you outta there? And here we are. Ta-daaaa!” he embellished the ending of the entire debacle with jazz hands, as if he was telling a casual story to a group of friends. 
“You.. are unbelievable!” you shouted, pushing him against his chest, and not really causing enough force to have him step back. “What kind of sick, twisted joke is this?!” You threw a punch against him with every single word. “You really thought this would be the way to get my attention? Instead of, oh, I don’t know, just coming up to me and striking up a conversation like a normal fucking person?”
“Cute, very cute. Adorable,” Deadpool commented as he watched you attempt to hurt him, almost as if he were observing an unfamiliar specimen in the wild. “God, you are so cute.”
“That’s all you have to say?!” you cried. “After blowing up part of the city? You are a psychopath.”
“Eh, not even wrong,” he shrugged. “Nowadays I even take that as a compliment.”
“I-I’m gonna call the police!” you ultimately decided, whipping out your cell phone from your back pocket. 
“Oh, no no no I would not do that,” Wade said, effortlessly grabbing the device from your hand and texting his phone before you could notice. “Just.. they aren’t a big fan. Of me.”
“You think?!” you seethed. “God. You are insane. You know that?” You stood up on your tippy toes, trying to take your phone back. 
Wade eventually relented, motioning to hand it back to you before you snatched it out of his hand. 
“And never speak to me again,” you shot back at him as you walked in the opposite direction. 
“So does that mean I can pick you up at 7 tomorrow?” the assassin called after you. “I know a really nice place downtown.. er, wait that might have been blown up.”
You stormed off without another word, self-assured that this would be the last you would ever see of him. But you were sorely mistaken. 
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erinfern0 · 2 months ago
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cutting the cord
spencer reid x explosives specialist!gn!reader
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— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, they, etc.
summary: the team struggles with a group who planned to plant a bomb in a town hall to spread awareness of their cause. as the only technicians available in the area are busy with another emergency, Spencer finds himself calling you, the closest off-duty technician he knew, despite how much he hates the idea.
warnings: emotional, angst(?), some swearing, love confession, and obviously stress, anxiety and fear for your life, etc. cliffhanger
a/n: this was highly inspired by episode 'hero worship' from season 10 of Criminal Minds. I haven't written anything besides smut for such a long time I wanted to give something like this a try. Itt's also over like 2,5k words long--- (I'm so sorry i don't even know how i wrote it)
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Doomsday Prophets - The group they were tracking started off small, with a bunch of troubled, unsupervised teenagers led by their online guru, who believed the system was too flawed to even try to repair it. They spent their first months spreading their agenda with countless flayers and graffiti murals all over the most popular places in the city. No one knew his real name, just the internet alias of doomsking130. Even the great Garcia couldn't track him in time before one of his sidekicks got brutally beaten for trying to leave.
Countless informants, and hours spent in interrogation rooms with lower-ranked members and the injured boy, lead them to the leader struggling with psychosis and an overwhelming god complex. He believed the only way to get people's attention was to set a bomb in a nearby town hall in the early morning hours, showing even the government can't protect people from the truth, at least that's what the team thought.
He never even thought there might be security guards waiting for him, informed about his plans by the FBI. As soon as they saw him entering the building via security cameras, they called no other than SSA Hotchner, who had warned them earlier that something like this might happen soon. His team quickly moved into action, hoping they could stop him before he set up the bomb, just to avoid getting help from Bomb Techs.
“Dave, you and I go from the staff-only entry on the left, Morgan and Jareau take the right window, the security guard who called left it open,” said Agent Hotchner, pointing the right directions to his team, watching them split. “Reid and Callahan, you enter the front and look for any worker left in the building.”
Everyone nodded in understanding, splitting and running to their destinations with their guns in their hands. Dr. Reid could feel a tiny drop of sweat running down his brow as he pointed another person toward the front door. People ran away in fear but kept their mouths closed not to alarm the criminals' leader.
Some time passed, leading the team to the building's basement, where the leader set up his life's biggest achievement. A small-looking detonator, connected to two canisters of gasoline, was set next to the power outlet. The arrest was quick, he didn't try any games or to run away, he simply allowed Agent Rossi to cuff him, because the damage was done.
Or was about to be done.
The bomb was already set, giving the team one and a half hours to deal with it as the unsub refused to help. He screamed about how the government tries to control the youngest of all to be their mindless little soldiers. How the system was set to manipulate the youth into dying for the country that didn't care about them. He laughed as Agent Morgan inspected the bomb from a distance.
“Y'all are a part of their games, agents,” he spat as agent Rossi guided him to the door. “All I spread is the truth, you're just too blind to see them using you. My kids won't stop opening people's eyes, even when you take me away! The Doomsday will come as they realize they'd been lied to...”
“Aren't you even worse?” Asked Morgan, crossing his arms with a displeased look on his face.
"How so?" Asked the man, suspiciously calm and smug as he raised his head proudly.
"Well, technically speaking even if what you're saying is true, the government uses us to help other people who can't protect themselves from people like you," said Reid, staring at the man as if he were trying to look at his soul. "You on the other hand pressure troubled teens into doing your dirty work to feed your ever-growing god complex, which almost led one of them to death."
The unsub seemed to be confused, that little frown on his brows, mindlessly staring into the wall behind Dr. Reid as he parted his lips as if he was about to speak.
"Seems like you used up your limit," taunted Callahan, smirking at him as he opened his mouth again.
He started trashing his arms around in Rossi's grip, spitting something out in some Slavic language they couldn't understand.
“That's enough,” murmured Rossi, tightening his grip and taking the criminal outside, leading him to the car parked in front of the building alongside Callahan.
“I'll call the Techs,” said Hotchner, heading outside to get his phone.
Some minutes later he came back with his arms crossed and that strange, disappointed look.
"And?" Asked Morgan, looking around the room, kneeling beside the bomb, and inspecting it closer.
"They might or may not be here in an hour, there was another emergency, supposedly done by the Dooms Prophets," said Agent Hotchner, looking at all of his people who stayed inside.
"He planned this better than we thought," whispered Jennifer, looking at him with concern. "The kids must have lied..."
"Or he didn't trust all of them, the ones we got to speak with were younger, less devoted. He wouldn't trust them with that information," added Reid, standing beside Morgan.
"Yeah, but if he really treated them like prophets for the close-minded folks, he wouldn't change his mind from a long-lasting plan to something so quick," murmured Derek, looking up at his teammates.
"This was his plan all along, he knew he'd be caught. He just hoped his Prophets would continue his work without him," Reid chimed in, looking around to only see his teammates confused faces. "His nickname was 'doomsking130'… The bomb was set to an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch, then the device. "I think the attack and the emergency wasn't his idea, it's his followers who tried to continue his work on their own."
They all stared at one another, nodding in agreement while processing his words, following up on the idea of their Boy Genius.
Morgan turned his head slightly to look at the messy-haired doctor. "This shit is too complicated, nothin' I've seen yet, this guy is a smart one," he whispered, shaking his head softly. "I can't deal with this... I'm sorry."
"Not your fault, Derek. We'll wait for the Techs," assured Hotchner, patting his agent's back as he stood up away from the bomb.
"There is no time," said Jareau, turning her head to her team. "You said they 'may or may not' be here in an hour, and we already lost a few minutes, they might be too late."
The atmosphere in the room felt heavier as Agent Rossi came back to the room, saying he got the local police to drag the leader to the station, while Kate called her family to inform them she'd be late. He felt as disappointed and worried as everyone, making sure to keep the pregnant agent safe, away from the building as the rest searched for a solution for a few more minutes.
"Reid," started Morgan, turning to face his friend. "Doesn't your lovebird know how to deal with those?"
"Um, yeah, they worked in the bomb disposal department, but decided to take a break from this a while back," he answered, already frowning his brows at the dreadful idea.
"Would they be able to disarm it?" joined Hotchner, crossing his arms as he listened.
"I think so..." he said unsurely, his hands shaking slightly at scenarios running through his head. "It wouldn't be exactly legal to bring them here, just for your information."
"Would be quicker than the actual technicians," noticed Jareau, looking at Spencer with a soft, understanding look on her face. She knew exactly how much it had to scare him, but like everyone else — she couldn't see another way.
"If they don't feel like doing it, we'll just have to wait for the Bomb Techs, as a civilian now, they shouldn't feel pressured into risking so much," reminded Hotchner, looking at Dr. Reid with a glimpse of sympathy.
"But saving some time would be nice," said Morgan unapologetically, moving closer to Reid. "They live only a few blocks away, local police could escort them and secure the area."
Jennifer came up to Spencer, slowly wrapping an arm around him, soothing his tense muscles. She saw the distress in his eyes, but just like the doctor, she didn't like the idea.
"I'll call," decided Spencer, closing his eyes to calm down. "They live around eight minutes away from here, but-"
"It's up to them," assured Hotchner, nodding his head in understanding. "I'll make some calls, to make sure they won't get into any trouble if they decide to come."
Getting a call from Spencer so early in the morning was usual, so you left your book on the side of the couch, paying your full attention to his words. He spoke quickly, almost too quickly as he tried to summarize everything in the shortest amount of time possible, making it hard for you to interrupt him. Just the tiredness and distress in his voice made you melt, gathering your kit before he could even finish his ramble.
You didn't hesitate, jumping into the police car he talked about that escorted you right to the town hall, passing the barrier blocks and reporters who tried to talk to you. You covered your face with your hood, knowing too well not to talk to them, especially that you weren't there exactly legally. Passing agents Rossi and Callahan, you waved at them, getting polite nods as they watched you disappear into the building.
You walked as quickly as possible, guided by the deputy that drove you there. Something felt different, deep inside of you as you ran downstairs to the basement. It wasn't the first time you got an urgent call to help disarm a bomb, that was your entire life for the past few years, but just reminding yourself of Spencer's voice made your heart beat a little faster.
"SSA Aaron Hotchner," said the tall man who stood in the middle of the room, nodding his head as he shook your hand. He was the only member of the team you didn't have the chance to meet. You introduced yourself. Just hearing your own specialist title fall from your lips felt so distant as you were on a break for the past few months.
You nodded to everyone, only locking eyes with Spencer, who got closer as if just his presence was meant to protect you. "Agent Hotchner," you started, looking away from your boyfriend to kneel beside the device, opening your kit of tools in a hurry. "Evacuate the building and the area, I'll do my best but with devices like this..."
"I understand," he assured, letting Morgan and Jareau leave the room. There was only one more person who didn't budge beside him. "Reid?"
You looked to your side, watching Spencer shake his head and roll his sleeves up. "I'd like to stay," he said as if it was nothing, not even looking at his superior.
"It's your call," said Hotchner, looking at him with worry, but he left the basement. You knew if you weren't so important to Spencer he'd never allow this kind of behavior, but you could feel your blood boil at just the idea of him staying.
"Leave," you said simply, knowing how dangerous it was for him. At that moment, you didn't even care for yourself, you've done this a million times, but risking his life...
"Not a chance," he replied, reaching for your flashlight to help you. You could see the way his hands started shaking then he lifted it and it started to break your heart.
"You can't do this, Spence," you whispered breathlessly, focusing your eyes on the device. Two detachable components connected only by a few wires, a wide panel to control the bomb was already turned off the moment the time was set and two big canisters of gasoline beside just to make the explosion more dangerous.
"I can and I will," he said firmly, watching your skilled fingers run over the bomb to carefully detach the two parts.
"For fucks sake, Spencer," you sighed, already feeling the way your lip quivered with every word. "I can't promise you anything, I can't do this to you..."
"I'm not leaving," he repeated through gritted teeth, looking up at you from under his messy hair, covering most of his face as he spoke. "And stop trying to convince me otherwise."
You wiped the tears that spilled from your eyes as they followed one wire after another, watching the way they split and connected to find the one to cut. There were way more than in a usual device and just from the look of it, you knew some of them were just decoys, not really connected to any part, not activating anything, just being there to fuck with the mind of the person who dared to try defusing it.
"I can't focus when all I can think of is this killing you," you whispered, your voice breaking with every passing second. "Leave me here, I need to do this alone... I can't risk your life like this. You mean too much not only to me but to your team, your mom, the people who will need the help of an actual genius, so please, just spare me the talking and get out when you still have the chance. It's so selfish to even think..."
His calm and soft voice stopped you in the middle of your monologue. Tears kept falling down your face as you recognized the words he spoke. The stubborn bastard couldn't even fathom the idea of leaving you to this by yourself. Despite how scared he was inside, he kept his cool, reciting one of your favorite books from memory.
You inhaled deeply, feeling yourself growing more steady and calm, your muscles relaxing with every paragraph. Despite biting into your lip harshly, you didn't feel the pain, the tears were gone and the annoyingly fast heartbeat eased.
Spencer kept his eyes glued to your fingers as he took breaths in between each sentence, only glimpsing up a you for a second every time you cut another decoy wire to clear your way to the actual ones.
The time seemed to stop despite the timer showing you almost an hour passed already, leaving you with only a few minutes to neutralize the threat. You wiped your face in your hoodie, getting rid of sweat and tears as you cut through the last decoy, leading you to analyze the actual device.
You caught the cord you thought was the right one with your scissors, swallowing harshly at just the idea of you being wrong. You reached your free hand to the side, mindlessly searching for his. Doing this was not only risking the lives of you and Spencer but potentially unaware people who happened to be close by. Your heart sped up drastically as you made the decision.
Looking up, you saw Spencer who stopped mid-sentence. A look of worry passed through his face as he intertwined your fingers, his other hand resting on the back of your head, soothing you by slowly moving his fingers through your hair.
"Spencer," you whispered breathlessly, a stray tear running down your cheek, leaving him to quickly wipe it off with a soft smile."I love you..."
His smile only grew bigger as looked at you, that familiar sparkle in his eye shining brightly at you. His eyes were teary, but he didn't let any tears spill as he nodded. Those puppy eyes stared at you with the most love you've ever seen.
"I know," he whispered back, his voice cracking as he looked down at your hands.
You felt like the whole world crushed over you as he didn't say those words back, unlike he did a million times before. Your heart sank but you just looked down, brows frowned as you focused not to lose all composure you had left.
For a split second, the basement was filled with eerie silence as you pushed down on the scissors, cutting the cord in half.
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deadghosy · 8 months ago
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THIS DUO AS READERS X HAZBIN HOTEL GANG
prompt: two gen z twins fall into the grasp of hell and the hotel crew as they cause such an entertaining impression.
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These two cause so much trouble in one go. Like literally you guys plopped into hell just causing chaos as the pink twin started to set hospitals and buildings on fire as the green twin was just scamming sinners😭.
The twins died looking like their favorite colors, green and pink as the smart one was green and the slight dumb one was wearing pink. The twins even have matching bracelets that have the other’s color. They also died as Gen z’s.
Oddly enough, the pink twin can go into the wrath and pride ring as the green twin and can stay in the pride ring and go into the envy ring.
You two can’t even BE LEFT ALONE HOLY SHIT- LITERALLY CHARLIE HAD YOU TAKE CHARGE IN THE HOTEL ONLY FOR THE BAR TO BE BURNT DOWN AND A HOLE IN THE WALL 😭😭
Alastor found the green twin amusing as they are very quick and smart. Hell they were the one to figure out that Alastor was in a leash when they first met him. So alastor made it his goal to try to trap the green! reader. He also found the pink one amusing, but they were just a nuisance at times 
Pink reader and Angel dust is such a funny duo as he seems to look after you since you aren’t good at taking care of your own self which is sad but at least someone cares for you.
“You’re not ascending to godhood. You’re just dehydrated….” “OUT OF MY WAY GAYBOY!” *few minutes later* the pink twin was breathing heavy on the floor. “Hopital..”
I feel like Lucifer would definitely try to adopt the twins as he find them adorable. Like Lucifer had most definitely made a pink and green duck with a magnet that makes the two ducks hold feathers.😭💗
Niffy love the twins equally as they like to hang around with the hotel maid as she shows them how to clean.
Sir Pentious find you two amazing as literally green! Reader overthinks a lot but pink! Reader doesn’t think and just acts head on. So he gets green! Reader to help with his building as pink! Reader just decorates.
The egg boiz love hanging out with the twins as they just walk around and cause havoc inside the hotel and to residents.
Headcannon on pink! Reader knowing how to use and gun and accidentally shooting themselves only to regenerate themselves as everyone panics except their own twin.
I imagine Cherri trying to bring the twins to a club and the green one is like “if you’re bring us, prepare for shit to go down.” And Cherri didn’t believe it until the club is ablaze as pink! Reader just smiled with their sharp teeth showing with their twin beside them having a tired face like. “I told you so.” Cherri’s face was so traumatized at how you did it.
Vaggie most definitely has some rules for you, even a bed time for pink as they are so adhd core 💀 so she need to drain their energy before they set anyone on fire.
It was a dark hellish night as the green twin walked into their shared room for the big dinner. “Hey just double checking, you cleared your calendar for dinner tomorrow night with the staff right? I’m dying to go to that new place like I can’t-” the green twin stops seeing their own twin spacing out. “Oh sorry, dinner, tomorrow, me.” “YAYYY” the pink reader starts to clap excitedly
Husk hates pink! Reader as they are so damn energetic and have no filter. Yeah husk has no filter as well, but pink! Reader has the worst filter ever to the point husk wants to duct tape their mouth.
STOP IMAGINE PINK! READER DRIVING LIKE SPONGEBOB AS GREEN! READER IS READING OFF A MAP SO CALMLY😭😭
“IM DRIVIN THIS HOOEEE” pink yells as green just calmly looks up and point to an exit turn as pink swerves the car as if this shit was Tokyo drift.
The combat the twins is so strange but destructive, like literally green’s combat is martial arts and poison as pink is street fighting but also just weapons like guns and bombs.
The Vee’s fucking hate the twins with a passion as those two are just bad luck for them.
lol I can see pink just bursting into the Vee’s tower on accident as green just waves at the three overlords.
Velvette finds the twins worthy of being models for her, but the thing is when she finally got the twins to meet her. They both accidentally ruined her studio as there was fire on the floor and curtains. HELL EVEN THE FIRE IS ON FIRE?! HOW TF-
Vox had found green amusing at how smart you are with calculations. He thought he could trick you with his hypnotizing power, but nah you poked that bitch’s eyes. He yelled falling to the floor just screaming at green being a bitch and a whole lot of degrading words. 
Valentino likes pink..for some reason . It’s because you are pink like Angel dust… but like then his admiration fell so quick when you glitter bombed his whole porn studio.
Pink! Reader was arguing with Vox as green! Reader has a needle ready to drain blood from the tv overlord. “Fuck you, YOU BITCH” “ya mama.” “YA MAMA, with cha bald headed ass.” “Ahh you mad.”
Yeah pink has a restraining order from the Vee’s as green just gets a warning 😭
Pink is a pyro maniac as green is a mad scientist type shit. 🦆
Yeah so the twins lore is that they were in a bad household with a mom who was a stay at home mom and an alcoholic dad that cheats. The parents were very verbal and physically abusive. So the twins only had their self.
I can imagine that green! reader had told pink! Reader a joke and was going to tell another resident only for the pink twin to fuck it up cause they found it so funny.
“Did you know, that 1981 was the year that-” “AAAAaaaAAAAaaAA-”
Tbh green is the reason why Alastor is sometimes scared to talk to them about his plans. Like green would stare at Alastor and Alastor would just sped walk away. 😭😭
The twins troupe is also “calm friend x chaotic friend” cause of course it fits them but really green is also a psycho in a making
Green was the type of kid to burn ants and dissect frogs and animals. As pink also burnt ants but thrown rocks at houses and cars. But they most definitely burnt old houses and thrown hot honey buns at people 😭
“I FEEEL LIKE A FEM QUEEN! I FEEL LIKE FEM QUEEN! I FEEL SO CUNTY!” Is how pink! Reader felt when Angel dust did their makeup as they watched RuPaul‘s drag race series.
Imagine the sibling fights just being so chaotic as they literally have to wear a “get along” shirt lmao 😭
The two siblings literally was playing rock paper scissors when all of a sudden a bomb was heard off in the distance making green immediately looks at pink who just nervously laughs and runs off.
There was a time when pink awakened their hell powers on a Thursday as green was so confused. “Pinkie, how are you doing that?” The green reader says pushing their glasses to their face seeing their twin floating. “I-I-I- I don’t know broccoli, I’m scared.” “Well come down.” “I can’t. I-I-I- I can’t. Get help.” The pink twin says to the green twin as they are floating to the ceiling.
Yeah Lucifer had to take them down as he put a spell on pink! Reader for it to never happen again.
Below the cut I show I imagine then personally💗
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Their personalities:
Green! Reader- calm, secretly crazy inside, smart, protective, over thinking, sometimes snappy, just wants to be loved.
Pink! Reader- cunty😘, crazy, starve touched, hyperactive, not focused much, under thinking, destructive.
Their appearance:
Green! Reader- looks like a teen and an adult. Has straight hair with glasses. Possibly have a mole by their cheek or lip but definitely has freckles. They are skinny but curvy as they don’t gain weight much.
Pink! Reader- looks like a young adult and a teen at the same time. Has curly hair with glasses but eye sight isn’t as bad. Has a mole by their eye and has freckled skin. They are slight chubby but more on the thicc side with the right thickness in their body.
Their specific pronouns:
Green! Reader- any, but people usually call them a he/him & she/her
Pink! Reader- she/they and them/her.
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monstersflashlight · 6 months ago
Note
I am very fond of your writing and have a somewhat unique request.
Could you write something with a fem sub werewolf who is really butch and tuff and sort of bratty in her human for a but turns Into a puppy when she well. . . Turns.
I totally get it if this isn't your stile but I thought the power dynamic could be fun.
Regardless be well and drink water. < 3
Thank you for your kind words! It means the world. I hope this is somewhat close to what you expected, I tried my best. It was really fun to write, I love power dynamics and bratty subs (and butch fems, especially the muscular ones).
Fem!Werewolf x Non-gendered human || dom/sub dynamic, power play, spanking
Pack nights were long and tiring, and you hated to show up just to be listening to a bunch of men trying to see who had it longer (metaphorically). But your girlfriend? She loved it. She fitted right in between them, she gained the respect of them all, the bulging muscles, the posture, the way she talked around them.
You couldn’t blame them, you fell for her because of those reasons too. She was just so… big. So muscular. She could lift you with one arm if she wanted, but did she? No, she didn’t. In public she was this big personality that overpowered everyone, but in private? In private she was just bratty. She loved to push your buttons and tease you. And then she transformed and became nothing but a needy little pet for you to play with. Nobody knew, though. Just you.
And today wasn’t different. She started slow, making remarks about the way you made lunch. Making jokes about the way she looked even though she knew you hated when she tried to make fun of herself. Coming home from the gym all sweaty and panting, but denying you when you followed her to the shower, excusing herself because you two had to leave soon. And then she had the audacity to put on that fucking gray sweatpants you loved, how low they fell down her hips, how her abs were framed by the elastic of the pants. You loved those fucking pants. But not in public. The sluttiness of those pants was just for you. And she knew that.
She got away with it, you couldn’t tell her to change if you were going to be on time. And to make it even worse, she winked at you, biting her lower lip as she passed you. That little shit. She knew what she was doing. And she was playing the big leagues at it. Teasing you on a professional level. She was pushing your buttons on purpose. Game on, you thought. You were competitive as fuck, and you weren’t gonna lose against your bratty girlfriend. Not a chance in hell. Before the night ended, she’ll be a needy mess under you.
You sat right beside her at the pack meeting, your lower half hidden under the table. Your hand started innocent enough, grabbing her muscular thigh as someone talked about some trade with other pack you didn’t care about. You could feel the power of her muscles under your hand, and the way she pushed her legs together as you tried to touch the inside of her thigh. You didn’t like that. The anger inside of you growing with each passing second. She was trying to deny you, again.
She wore the fucking sweatpants, she was annoying all day on purpose, and your blood was running hotter than normal. And now she dared to deny you access to her pussy? Oh no, she didn’t. You closed your mouth and waited, your hand never leaving her thigh. Your anger rising slowly as the meeting progressed.
When the two of you exited the building you were fuming, your adrenaline and anger mixing to create a ticking bomb inside of you. You made as far as the car before you were grabbing her short hair and pulling her towards you.
“You know what you were doing teasing me, didn’t you?” She whimpered, nodding shyly as you grabbed her chin with more force than needed. “Strip. Turn. And run.” You ordered, each word followed by a light pull of her hair. She nodded, stripping before you and leaving her clothes on the ground. You picked them up, throwing them inside the car as she ran in her half-turn form. You knew she wouldn’t go far, a chase wasn’t what she was looking for today. She wanted to be punished for her behaviour. She wanted to get pounded into the ground. She wanted to be dominated.
You waited for a bit, knowing full well she’d be panting even before you went after her. The woods surrounding the pack hall were dense, but you knew she would be by the clearing not too long from there. You followed the path, thinking how would be the best way to punish your bratty girlfriend.
You saw her, kneeling in the middle of the clearing, the moon over her like a caress, making her shine.
“Face down. Ass up.” You ordered, not touching her yet. She obeyed instantly, tail waggling behind her involuntary. Cute. You grabbed her tail without any caress, pulling a bit too hard and making her whimper. That fueled you, the game she was playing before long forgotten. She teased and teased, and now it was time for punishment.
“What a bratty slut, teasing me all night, and for what? You want your pussy pounded? You want to take my knot so far you see stars?” She could only whimper as you teased her needy cunt. She was velvety soft and wet, so, so wet. “So wet for me already. Don’t you have any smart remarks now, do you? You pushed all my buttons during the pack meeting, knowing full well what you were doing, weren’t you, pet?” She whimpered again, pushing her ass up to try push your fingers inside. You laughed at her neediness. “All that muscle, all that posturing for everyone to see and you are just a slutty, slutty pet. So ready to take it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here, in the open. Maybe somebody would see, maybe somebody would know how needy you really are.”
“Is this what you wanted? My hand against you?” Your fingers were circling her clit without any pressure, making her whimper and moan. She was squirming under you, every cell of her body vibrating with desire and pent up frustration.
“Yes, yes! Please!” Desperate groans were escaping her mouth as she tried to get more friction, pushing her ass up into your hand. You laughed again.
“You sound so pretty when you beg.” You took your hand away, caressing her inner thighs where her desire was dripping. You lowered down, lapping at her juices without getting close to where she wanted you the most. Marveling at her whine of protest. She was desperate and needy. But she wasn’t going to get the release she wanted. She spent the whole day proving your patience, and it ran out.
“Pleaseeee.” She begged over and over, her head moving against the grass as she tried to push back into your hand. So hot. You pressed against her clit one more time and then took your hand away from her soaked pussy, making her cry out and whine in two seconds.
She pushed her ass up again. “Oh no, pet. You teased me all day, and now I deserve some payback, don’t you think?” She was looking at you over her shoulder, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes shiny with unshod tears. You wanted those tears, they were yours to collect. “Be still.” You commanded. She whimpered softly. And then your hand made contact with the left cheek of her ass, making the perfect sound. Both of you groaned.
You continued spanking each cheek alternatively, making her squirm. Her ass looked so good marked by your hands, you wish you had your paddle with you, but that could wait. Next time. You kept going, knowing full well she could take it. Your handprint was visible against her cheeks, making you smile as her tears rolled down her face. “So pretty when you cry.” You murmured, she moaned. You keep hitting, massaging her abused ass every once in a while to make her squirm. You teased her core with your fingers, pushing the tip inside as she groaned. With each spank, her back arched and she let out a bunch of curses and swears, begging and pleading you to stop and to keep going. The sounds she was making were the best music you’d ever heard. She sounded wrecked, and you loved it.
And suddenly, her back arched impossibly as her body convulsed. “Did you come just from me spanking you? Oh yes, you did. So needy that you don’t even need my fingers to cum. Such a slutty, slutty pet that can come just from her ass getting spanked.” She flushed all over, trying to hide her mortification. Your tone was mocking as you saw her pussy gaping, all shiny and juicy, puffy after her release. You pushed your fingers inside to watch her try to get away, grabbing her tail back to stop her. You finger fucked the last tremors out of her, laughing as she cried out.
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tenjikufag · 2 months ago
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gojo caught cheating on reader with getou?? need angsttt
Adieu.
Gojo Satoru x Male Reader
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-angst, hurt no comfort, cheating, love bombing, reader actually fighting back I refuse to let you be a doormat!!, vomit mentions,
-thank you for the request, I typically don’t write cheating fics as they aren’t my thing or personal preference but I thought I’d give it a try. Not proofread, and kinda sporadic.
You knew what was happening. You knew all along, as soon as it started, down to the day it progressed past a best friend dynamic.
It was a hard truth, knowing you were being cheated on. Satoru was your first love, and he claimed you were his but you’d assume that was another lie that fell from his lips- Suguru was his first love and he hadn’t gotten over it.
Suguru didn’t love him back, he still didn’t, he didn’t really even like his best friend at this point in time. That much you were sure of. Suguru was treating your partner as a toy, an experiment without any ties on his end but Satoru was hopelessly following him whilst still dragging you along.
Graduation was soon.
Once you were out of the dorms, you were sure you’d be able to leave him but it was almost as if he knew what you were trying to do.
Small things of yours would go missing, only to find them in Satorus dorm when he managed to drag you into it..
The gifts, dates, physical intimacy were being pushed onto you the closer you got to having to move out and be away from each other..
You never gave into having sex with him anymore, feeling disgusted at the aspect of not consenting to “share” him.. shivers ran down your spine while his hands clung to your waist..
“We should go on a date later! You’ve been so busy lately.. no time for your boyfriend!”
He was playful in his teasing, the proposition forcing a lump in your throat and the pressure spiking your anger. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down over this. You’d done it enough in your room, taken it out on the training grounds and very clearly spent yourself dry against field curses.
“I’m busy studying, I’ll take you out for a nice date after exams.”
The white haired male buzzed in excitement, squeezing you tightly before intertwining his hand with yours. You held it limply, now used to pulling yourself away instead of leading him with a tight hand and a smile.
Approaching the school building, you pulled your hand away- ignoring the way he pouted and reached for your hand again. You shoved your hands into your pockets, lightly glaring at him and walking ahead.. Satoru frowned deeply.
He was troubled. You were ignoring him recently, gapping a distance between you, he no longer felt the undivided love from you that he’d become accustomed to. No kisses, no hugs from you that he didn’t initiate, and no form of intimacy.
It broke his heart, even if he knew that he was getting his karma for what he had been doing behind your back. You didn’t know, right? You would tell him if you did.. right?
Furrowing his brows, he followed closely behind you and found himself standing awkwardly beside you while you conversed with your friends. They weren’t friends of his, and they didn’t seem to like him all that much either by the way a pair of them sneered at his intrusion.
Before he could ask you to walk him to class, you turned to him with an almost annoyed face.
“Why don’t you go find Shoko? Maybe Getou if he isn’t late.. I’m busy here.”
His heart thumped anxiously, why didn’t you rope him into the conversation like you always did? Why were you letting your friends look at him with such disdain? Why wouldn’t you accompany him to class.. you always did. This is the third time this week you’d dismissed him.
“No, Shoko came early and is studying in the cafeteria and Suguru is always late..”
It hurt his heart, your reply only being a laboured sigh through your nose.
“Yeah whatever Gojo, just go ahead of me and I’ll catch up.”
Gojo? What the hell! It’d been years since you called him anything but his first name- there was definitely something wrong.
“Satoru. I’ll wait for you.”
He corrected, and stood his ground. Stepping closer to you, your friends snickered at him.. he wasn’t used to being treated like this. Being laughed at, being judged, and being anything but the focus of all your attention..
“Ugh! I’m telling you I’ll catch up with you later, can you just go?!”
You pushed him away from you, glaring and turning back to your friends who led you away from him.
‘Come on! Just leave him already, it’s sad seeing him act like that!’
You weren’t sure if he’d heard it, but he did. An ache in his stomach arose and made him almost puke in his own hands. You didn’t spare him a second glance like your friends did, who only watched in amusement when he ran into the school- rushing to the bathroom.
He heaved, gagged, and gasped for air as he emptied out the small meal he had into the toilet. Sweat beaded on his face, legs trembling under him..
Even if you didn’t know, were you already planning to break up with him? Dating post high school is difficult but he was sure the two of you would make it.
Both of you had spent late nights speaking of your future together, already having long term plans of moving in together.. he already had a place picked out to show to you after graduation!
Pushing himself against the stall door, he tried to steady himself.. he would ask you during the first break.. even if you shared classes, you never sat beside each other..
He felt jealous, watching you enter the classroom smiling and laughing with one of your male friends.. the other man clutching your arm to keep himself from falling over laughing..
Satoru waved at you, giving a signature smile to you.. you glanced at him briefly, the look of joy and laughter leaving your face as soon as your gaze met his.
Suguru sat beside him, resting his head on his wrist against the desk.
“Trouble in paradise?”
Suguru chuckled, amused at the look of horror his ‘friend’ gave him.
“Do you think he knows?”
“Probably, but I also wouldn’t blame him for leavin’ ya after graduation regardless.”
“What? What does that mean?”
He choked out, eyes shaking and eyebrows twitching
“He’s too good for you, Satoru. We all know that much.”
We? Who is we? Did everyone really think this? Did everyone know of his affair?!
He couldn’t worry about that, he needed to worry about your relationship.
Even if he was a cheater.. he still loves you. Sleeping with Suguru would never change that- he couldn’t rectify anything at this point and often times he wondered why he even started this all.
When he was with Suguru, he thought of you. Thought of you ontop of him, thought about all of Sugurus moans as yours.
Why did he do it?
He couldn’t even remember anymore..
But it was all catching up.
“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been.. kind of ignoring me recently..”
Satoru sheepishly inquired, approaching you outside during break.
“Hm? Yeah I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Because-“
“I’m fine Satoru. Drop it okay?”
He bit his lip, not even interested in the sweet bun you’d brought for him.
“It’s just.. I feel like you’re-“
“I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Eat the damn bun, we only have 5 minutes left.”
The packaged bun was shoved into his chest, leaving him to catch it while you walked away. Again.
He didn’t catch up to you until the end of the day, grabbing your hand without a thought. Tears welled in his eyes when you flinched away and limply held his hand..
“Y/n?”
You hummed, not sparing him even a second of a glance.
“Are.. are we okay? I heard what your friend said-“
“No. We aren’t. Let go of my hand since you wanna talk about it.”
He didn’t even have to let go before you ripped your hand from him.
“I know about you and Suguru.”
His heart dropped, his body tensing and saliva pooling in his mouth from nausea.
“What?”
Walking into the dorms building, he kept shooting questions at you, following you into your own dorm.
“What do you mean you know?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”
Slamming your bag down, you whipped around to glare at him. Your eyes held a rage he’d never seen in you before, not even thinking you’d be capable of sending him such an emotion.
“Why didn’t I tell you?! Why did you do it?!”
“I-“
“You should’ve broken up with me to go fuck around! If you didn’t love me anymore I would’ve much preferred hearing that than having to learn you’re fucking cheating on me!”
“But I do love you-“
Shoving him away, your frantic hands started to gather all the gifts he had given you and started to throw them at him.
“Love?! You don’t love me! No one who loves someone does this!”
Heaving heavy breathes, you threw a final gift from him at his head. He brought a hand up to rub his head where it hit, wincing and opening his mouth to speak again
“Shut up Gojo! Don’t you dare speak a word to me.”
You spat, pure venomous rage in your tone
“I didn’t want to fight with you like this. But I guess you’re happy huh? Getting some sick fucking satisfaction seeing me like this?”
Growling, you paced around the room.
“No, this is breaking my heart.. I never wanted to hurt you-“
“Well you fucking did! I was waiting until we graduated to fuck you over like you did but it’s all out in the open now.”
Throwing your arms up, a delirious smile itched at your lips. You felt lightheaded, spurs of adrenaline shocking every cell in your body.
“What do you mean? What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving Gojo. That’s what I’m doing. I’m moving far, far away.”
Smiling at him, he trembled under your gaze
“I was going to disappear after graduation. Leave you wondering where I went, and maybe, just maybe, you’d feel the sickly heart break that I’ve been feeling this whole fucking time!”
Satorus eyes welled up in tears, imagining what it would have been like for him to lose you like that.. dread in his heart at thinking you’d magically disappeared but now you were outright telling him you were leaving. It didn’t ease any of the dread, he was still losing you.
“Where are you going? I can fix this, I can make it up. Please, you can do whatever you want to get back at me, don’t leave me! You can even sleep with a hundred men, just stay! Please!”
He begged, tears flowing down his cheeks- trying to reach out to you only for his hands to get slapped away.
“Like I’d tell you. I’m leaving to get away from you. The life I built here isn’t worth it anymore because it’s been stained by you.”
Sneering at him, you walked over to your drawer and picked up a small velvet box.
“If you hadn’t fucked me over like this and ruined my fucking life, this was going to be yours.”
Pushing the box out, you dropped it into his hands and he opened it- exposing a sleek silver band.
“But I guess I’ll let you have it anyways. I couldn’t imagine giving someone else a band that was for a cheater.”
It broke your heart, it really did. Even if you’d thought you were slowly getting over it or coming to terms, this fight had opened just barely scabbed over wounds. Your emotions and words pouring out of each cut and gash he’d left your heart with.
“Now get the fuck out. Don’t talk to me again. Have fun with Getou.”
Grabbing the back of his shirt, you shoved him out of your dorm- throwing him into the hall.
It was over.
It was done.
You weren’t his anymore, and he hadn’t been yours for some time.
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diejager · 1 year ago
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...i mean i have plenty of dark ideas with makarov but i mean... i kinda want to know on your thoughts with makarov and a reader who's equally dark/cunning. match made in hell basically
котёнок (A/n):I read a bit about him, but I can’t say that my portrayal of him is faithful to the game.
A fucking match made in hell. He doesn’t love easily, nor does he devote himself to someone as much as he did with Zakhaev often, but once he does give you this deluded level of love and devotion, it’s yours until he dies. In his mind, anything goes, shooting his only friend, bombing civilian areas to kill off one enemy, or trafficking as a source of money. Vladimir Makarov had no limit when it came to what he believes in.
He might be unpredictable with his acts and strict with his decisions, but that - by no means - meant that he didn’t like to play games, despite everything that went on in his life, Makarov loved games. He liked playing with his enemy, making it seem like they were ahead of him, only to disappear, being ten feet ahead. But then you appear, foiling his plans left and right, seeming to play right into his hands, moving as he predicted, only to outplay him, smirking his way as you strut away. He was mesmerized, the sight of the woman who had tricked the devil, clad in black and smile as sinfully cunning as his.
Makarov called you his котёнок —his kitten. He watched you in admiration, hungering for any moment with or against you, a gem in the corrupted world he lived in. He loathed that you weren’t working with him, standing beside him with that beautifully, cruel sneer you gave anyone who disappointed you. You didn’t follow the good or evil side, uncaring of who worked for the betterment of the world - he’d seen and heard you fucking up the 141’s attempts as you did with his - you only followed the wining side, the one who had the money to show and the hand to control it.
For months, he tried his luck, sending messages to you in many way, both nefarious and quiet, anything to contact you, anything to have you on his side; and when he had you working with him, striding to him in all your confident glory, he couldn’t be any prouder. Makarov had another asset up his sleeve, one more important than others, he cherished you, he devoted his time to you and he love you in his own twisted way.
If his котёнок wanted to play, he would play. He would back you up in every decision you mad, the jobs you took, the deals you signed. If you wanted to burn down the world, he would do it with you; if you wanted to bomb a public building, he would provide you the explosives; and if you wanted a hand in rebuilding the world in your image, he would help you, lead the men that worked under him and push your ideals.
Makarov didn’t just love you, he was obsessed, addicted —he was devoted to your being, cunning and devious. He might pull a few strings in the dark, but you were a danger on your own, giving your rivals and enemy a run for their money, and he loved that. You controlled the room when you sat down, your nails cackling on the table eerily as you stare down the people across from you, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, a stoic mien before cowering men.
He would sometimes stand behind you, acting as the looming shadow that added to your scary image, or he’d take up the seat beside yours, head tilted up with his arms crossed, the image of a confident tyrant, poised and powerful. You were a dark pleasure, sly and opportunistic, and he, a wicked and cunning man, portraying his ideology through his spread of terror.
“My sweet, sweet kitten,” he whispered in Russian, pressing his lips to yours, kiss feverish and rough, all teeth and domination. “Tell me, what is it you want?”
Tag list: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973
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villain-enthusiast · 5 months ago
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heyy i don’t have something specific in mind but can you please right something about a morally grey villain and a civilian. make it romantic and flirty and stuffff
Civilian was going to die.
The explosion from the bomb had obliterated half the bank within fractions of a second. The blast was far enough from their office that they weren't directly affected, but evacuating the actively crumbling building could easily kill them.
Rubble rained down as they desperately ran down the dusty hallway to the stairwell. Why did they have to be three stories up? Would they even get all the way down before the place collapsed?
Boom!
Civilian barely had time to react before they were thrown off their feet from the force of the blast that had detonated from the room beside them. Their back smacked into the opposite wall, pain and shock rippling through them as they hit the ground, rendering them helpless.
They couldn't move. This was it. They were going to—
"Oh, sweetheart."
Civilian jerked their head up to see someone standing over them, not a single speck of dust visible on their impeccable black clothes. Not the uniform of a co-worker or a rescue team member, Civilian realized with dismay.
The person crouched down in front of them, head tilted. "I could've sworn I got everyone out in time. I guess you're just a little elusive, huh?" They smirked and ruffled Civilian's hair, wildly playful considering the life-or-death situation they were in right now.
Wait.
The realization struck them like a brick to the head. “You set the bomb off,” they wheezed. “You’re Villain.”
Villain gave them a mock salute. “Nice to meet you too."
The floor wobbled dangerously and Civilian squeaked in fear, trying and failing to prop themselves up. "Please...please don't kill me," they blurted.
"Wow, who do you think I am?" Villain placed a hand on their chest in mock disbelief. "Eh, besides, you're too cute to murder. Or leave for dead,” Villain added as the building groaned, swaying on its foundations.
Civilian flushed, not sure if they should be flattered or absolutely terrified that their whole fucking workplace was about to collapse and that this bastard was trying to flirt with them—
Villain scooped Civilian up without warning, hoisting them into a bridal carry. They yelped in surprise as a block of cement crashed down onto the exact spot where they were laying just seconds ago.
“See?” Villain grinned at Civilian, bearing in close. “Too cute to leave behind.” Their face was near enough for Civilian’s eyes to flick down to their lips. Their grin widened in acknowledgment.
Villain turned abruptly and ran down the hallway towards the stairs, throwing the door open. Three flights down stared back, seeming infinitely long, too long.
But Villain was still smiling like they were gonna make it out of the bank on time. They looked down at Civilian, who had unconsciously fisted their hands into the lapels of Villain’s jacket.
“Yeah, just like that,” Villain said, winking at Civilian.
Civilian blinked, their mind flailing for footing. Just like what—
“Hold tight!” Villain whooped, and instead of booking it down the steps, they jumped onto the railing and slid down, handless.
Holy fucking shit. Civilian squeezed their eyes shut and held on so tight onto Villain’s jacket, stomach lurching. If the bombs didn’t take them out, then this would definitely—
They felt the Villain jump onto solid ground before they could even finish their thought. Oh.
“Aren’t you a scaredy-cat,” Villain teased, that shit-eating, infuriatingly charming grin back on their face. “Ever been on a roller coaster before?”
“No, I’ve never had fun in my life before, actually,” Civilian snapped back sarcastically.
“Hm,” Villain made their way out of the stairwell, casually walking towards the entrance as if the bank wasn’t crumbling around them. “Well, they’ve been saying amusement park dates are all the rage. Maybe this is my sign to take you out.”
Civilian fumbled for a response. Why was this criminal so good at rendering them speechless?
“You’re not saying no…” Villain murmured, exiting the building seconds before it promptly collapsed, throwing onlookers into chaos and allowing them to blend in with the crowd. The timing was almost comedic.
They slipped into an empty alley, Civilian still in their arms.
“I’m not putting you down until you say yes,” Villain urged, eyes glinting with playful mischief.
Civilian, despite themselves, rolled their eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be a bad guy? What happened to ‘Now I take you back to my spooky dark lair and lock you up and torture you until Hero comes and I fight them to the death’?”
Villain smiled, but it was warmer, more genuine this time. “I guess I prefer it when people look at my lips and clearly want to kiss me instead of looking at me like I’m a monster.”
Civilian paused, dissecting the layers of that statement before—damn them—glancing again at Villain’s perfectly kissable mouth.
Villain ran their tongue over their bottom lip, clearly toying with Civilian, but fuck, it was working.
It was the nearing wail of police sirens that shook them out of their trance. They groaned, stupefied at how they almost fell for the person who just blew up their workplace. “Please put me down.”
“And here I thought I almost had you.” Villain sighed and set Civilian down on the ground. “Unfortunately, the authorities tend to annoy me a bit, so this is where I take my leave. It was nice meeting you, sweetheart.” They bowed to Civilian and began to make their way down the alleyway.
Fuck, the way the nickname made Civilian’s stomach flutter. Fuck fuck fuck— “Disneyland, this Friday, 10 AM,” they blurted.
Villain stopped in their tracks, and although they didn’t turn around. Civilian could feel that stupid little smirk on their face.
“See you then.” Then they disappeared around the corner.
As it turns out, roller coasters really weren’t so bad when you have someone doing it with you.
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jewels-writes · 1 year ago
Text
Call of Duty - Fatal Injury Scenarios
Warnings: There is character death in all of these. You, the reader, are fatally injured. In Keegan's, there are themes of drug overdose, I know some people can be considerably sensitive to that. Please consider this your warning. Do not read further if you feel you may be triggered by these topics. Included Characters: Ghost, Price, Keegan, König Word Count: 1.9k Notes: This is very lightly proofread, apologies for inconsistencies or typos/grammatical errors. As always, requests are open. — — — —
Ghost (gunshot):
You and Ghost were paired up for a mission, per usual. You had to clear a building, you took the upstairs, Ghost took the ground floor. You heard the occasional pop of gunfire from downstairs, praying it was Ghost’s gun that was making the sounds.
Focusing on your own work, you cleared the upstairs rooms, being as thorough as possible. As you went through the rooms, you gunned down the enemy, not hesitating once. You were a soldier, you knew hesitating could mean life or death.
“Clear.” you relayed into your communications headset. Before you could turn your radio off, a door swung open at you, the enemy raising their gun and putting three rounds through your chest. Your vest normally would have stopped the bullets, but not this close. You made a gurgling noise before crumpling to the ground, your gun clattering out of your hand beside you.
“Report in, what’s going on up there?” Ghost demanded, making his way to the stairs, gun trained at the top of them. “Soldier, come in.” He ordered, but got nothing in response. He knew something was wrong. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. Not when your lungs were turned to swiss cheese.
He saw the figure of a body on the ground and after seeing the uniform, he knew it was you. You looked dead.
“Fuckin’ hell..” He clenched his jaw and looking around, his gun raised, waiting for the enemy. He knew they were lurking around here somewhere. He heard a floorboard creek off to the right and burst the door down, shooting the enemy with deadly precision. He didn’t stop even after they’d fallen to the ground. He was furious, angry that the enemy had been able to touch you.
With the threat neutralized, Ghost moved to your side, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure how to fix your injury. His face contorted beneath his mask, realizing the bullets went through your vest and to your vitals. His eyes looked up to yours, looking for a sign of life.
Your labored breathing gave him hope. Hope that you were hanging on. 
“Can you hear me..?” His voice was low and careful, his eyes searching your confused expression. “You did good, soldier. You did good.” He could see you were losing your fight and his gloved hand came down to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin.
He was beside you as you took your last painful breath, his hand on your cheek. His heart seemed to stop with yours. He grieved in silence, never being a man of many words when it came to losing someone. Gently, he removed your dogtag, placing it next to his own.
“Until we meet again, soldier.” — — — —
Price (bombed):
After the mission, everyone was exhausted as they all squished into the transport truck. Price sat next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. It was a tough fight, and he knew you needed your rest. He guided your head to his shoulder, a normal routine between the two of you.
Just as your eyes began to close, there was an explosion in the distance.. It sounded like bombing. Then there was another one. And another. Getting louder. Getting closer.
“Price? What’s going on?” You asked, lifting your heard from his shoulder and looking around.
The next instant everything went black. The truck was targeted by an aircraft, the spraying of it’s missiles were the last thing you heard before you passed out. 
When you came to, it was to Price dragging you out of the wreck. The next thing you registered was the agonizing pain you were in. Everything hurt, everything burned. It was like you’d been used as a punching bag before being thrown into an oven.
“Shh, shh. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Price’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you away from the burning wreck, his fingers looped into your vest’s handles on the back. “Look at me, you’re okay.” He muttered with a grunt, pulling you away farther.
You tried to talk, tried to ask him what happened. But you couldn’t, didn’t quite know why. Reaching a hand up, you felt around your neck, feeling an uncomfortable pressure there. Your hand froze when you felt hot liquid.
“John-” You mouthed, a dreadful realization dawning on you. Hearing your struggle, his eyes met yours before flicking down to where your hand was probing at your neck. You saw his anguish in his expression, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.
“Oh, shit.” Was all he could manage. “Look at me, you’re gonna be fine. It looks worse than it is.” He lied through his teeth, kneeling beside you, one of his hands running through your hair, the other hovering over your neck. He knew you wouldn’t make it. The gash had gone through an artery. He could see the inside of your neck.
“Shh.. shh.. I’m here. Look at me.” He soothed you, placing both hands on either side of your face, looking you in your eyes. “You did good. You’re the best of the best.” He tried his best to not get choked up. He could see you were fading, the blood spilling from your neck onto the ground, staining the grass a brutal red.
He watched as the last remnants of life flickered out of your eyes, left open and unseeing. His face contorted as he registered that he watched your final breath. He reached a hand up to cover his mouth in despair.
“I’m sorry, my sunshine.” Price felt the tears running down his face as he retracted his other hand. Reaching for your dogtag, he clutched it in his fist, holding it to his chest. “I won’t forget you.” — — — —
Keegan (overdose):
“Sweetheart? I’m home!” Keegan called as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway to your shared home. Normally he’d hear you bounding down the stairs, eager to hug him after he’d been away after a long mission, tackling him near to the ground. It sent a pang of concern through his body when he heard nothing but the air conditioning unit in response. “Honey? Where are you?” He called out again, his body tense with gnawing dread. Something felt wrong.
Everything in the immediate area looked fine, but he couldn’t rule out a potential break in. Not when you were his lover. Not when you meant so much to him. His hand reached for his concealed pistol, unclipping the button that covered it, resting his hand on the body of it, ready to use it if necessary.
Remaining quiet, he searched the house, starting with the main areas. Living room, dining room, kitchen. All clear. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, it dawned on him that you could just be asleep. He jogged up the stairs, ignoring the soreness from deployment. 
The light was off in your shared room. It made him feel slightly relieved, realizing you were probably just asleep and that he’d been worked up over nothing.
Quietly turning the knob, he opened the door and let out a slow breath. There you were, sound asleep on his side of the bed, holding one of his hoodies he’d left you. 
“Christ. You’re asleep. Had me worried as hell.” He grumbled, taking his hand off his pistol and walking around to the side of the bed and switching the lamp on, hoping to slowly wake you up. As he retracted his hand from the bedside table, he froze, his eyes catching a pill bottle he hadn’t seen before he left for his mission. Was it new? Picking it up, he inspected the label. “Sleeping pills..? How many..” His voice trailed off as he looked back over to you, his eyes on your back, looking for breathing. For any movement.
“Sweetheart? Oh shit.” His voice gained volume as he shook your shoulder. Nothing. “Babe, wake up right fucking now.” His voice grew more concerned. Reaching for your wrist, he begged silently for a pulse, his stomach dropping when he didn’t feel one.
“No.. no please.” Keegan’s voice hitched as he pressed harder into your cold skin. It was no use. Your life had been taken hours before he arrived home. It was an accident, you were just trying to get some sleep, turning to pills to help your insomnia. You’d taken too many.
“Why..? Oh my god.. Sweetheart, please don’t do this to me. You were my everything..” — — — —
König (poison):
The mission was going smoothly, no issues yet. You and König worked together like a well-oiled machine, picking up the slack where the other lacked perfectly. As you and him reached the office, König motioned for you to go in, implying he’d stand guard as you grabbed the intel needed.
Nodding, you stepped inside, doing a quick sweep over the small office. There was no one inside, just a normal office space. Moving the the computer, you powered it on, hooking up your own laptop to break into the locks. As you worked, you felt on edge, like somethin was wrong. This was too easy. As you saw the file on the desktop, hidden under a false name, you faltered.
Cursing at yourself, you clicked on it anyway. The instant that you did, the room went dark, replaced by a flashing red that came with alarms sounding. König, who’d been standing just outside the door, immediately tried to help, his hand shaking the handle of the now locked door.
“Shit-! It’s a trap!” He called from the other side. “Are you okay? What’s going on in there?” He demanded, his voice high with concern. Looking around, you realized something. The room was filling with some kind of gas. 
Hurriedly, you stuffed your laptop back into your pack before rushing over to the door, putting your whole body weight against it. Your hand came up to cover your mouth as the gas reached your face. You realized it was some kind of toxin. And of course you didn’t have a gas mask. 
“Schatz! Get out of there!” König shouted from the other side, his fists connecting with the door. “Back up! I’m kicking the door in.” He ordered, hoping you’d get out of the way in time.
Stumbling back, you leaned heavily on the desk, the toxin affecting you. Your knees were weak, you felt your mind detach from your body. You couldn’t control it when your body slumped to the ground, your eyes rolling back.
As König delivered a devastating blow to the door, it flew off of it’s hinges, landing on the other side of the room. “Schatz! Nein.. nein.. Look at me.” He kneeled beside you, tapping your cheek. Cursing to himself, he put his arms under you, hoisting you up over his shoulder as he began to run out of the toxic office space. When you two were out of the building, he propped you up against the wall, his stomach flipping when your body was completely limp.
“Hey, hey, wake up.” He begged, shaking your shoulders as he squatted beside you. “Gott verdammt, look at me!” With a sickening realization, he saw you weren’t breathing. “Nein..” He muttered as it felt like his heart shattered in two.
“Schatz.. Come on.. Open your eyes.” He begged, cupping your face in his hands. It was useless, whatever you’d breathed in was toxic enough to kill you. 
“I’m so sorry.. I failed you..”
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writteninlunarlight-years · 4 months ago
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@literallurker gave me this idea, and I wanted to share my headcanons on what I think everyone's MBTI is and why I believe that.
Charlie -ESFJ (Consul)
I mean, come on, this is so Charlie-coded. She loves helping people and putting a smile on their faces. She gets enjoyment and fulfillment from helping her people and those who lean on her the most. She is extroverted, in touch with her emotions, and in touch with others' emotions as well.
Vaggie -ISTJ (Logistician)
Vaggie respects how things should be run; look at how she reacts to Lucifer's appearance. She, however, is undeniably loyal and follows her heart when it comes to the one she cares about the most. She is quiet and reserved, only stepping up to the plate when it involves backing up Charlie.
Lucifer -ENTP (Debater)
Let's look at Lucifer's past, present, and seeming future. In the past, Lucifer questioned many things and wanted to know why and find out why things were how they were. Lucifer is a good leader when he is not depressed, he also shows pretty normal Extrovert traits he is just awkward cause he dedicated so much of his life to one person not the collective. We saw at the end of the show his true kingly and debater personality show where he agreed to help stick it to the angels and help Charlie.
Alastor - ESTP (Entrepreneur)
This man is a business tycoon, can we all agree? He has thousands of souls. He is a smooth talker and great at making deals. He has to be extroverted for that. On top of that, the only time we see this man dwell on his past is when he talks about his contract at the very end. Besides that, he is rooted in how he can benefit himself right here, right now. He also knows how to manipulate the situations he is in to benefit himself, something the Entrepreneur type is known for.
Angel Dust - INFP (Mediator)
Okay, hear me out, Angel is an actor; the Angel we see 90% of the time is not the real true him. When we see him in his raw form, he is really quiet and calm. He spoke of dreams and ideas he once had. Angel is forced to look extroverted when, in reality, he is the happiest in a small group of close people. He is happy making his friends happy. He loves helping even if he covers it up with his 'need' for sex and drugs.
Husk - INFJ (Advocate)
Okay, controversial, I know, but let me cook. Husk in the show fits this so well. He is compassionate towards Angel and the others, he is wanting to rebel against the contract system, he doesn't care about being powerful anymore now that he has lost all power. He is just a boy who loves his spider and friends. He has no issues helping Charlie the minute he finds out he was summoned for her, not Al.
Sir Pentious -INTP (Logician)
Man is socially awkward and inventing stuff left, right, and sideways. He is always curious to build the next best thing to make him the next powerful being. He never falters from his passion, either. He is passionate about the tasks he is given, which explains his displeasure in failing the Vees. Yet when Charlie gives him a new task, and he can excel at that, he is as happy as ever.
Niffty - ISTP (Virtuoso)
We have literally seen Niffty create the most horrid and cutest things out of her bugs. She is very attached to those she is close to, and she always has something going on in her mind. I think Niffty is a prime example of if it is in my head, I will be doing it, no questions asked.
Cherri Bomb - ENFP (Campaigner)
Cherri is the definition of a free spirit and a kind heart. She loves Angel deeply and would do anything to help cheer up her best friend. On top of that, she also has a no fucks filter and kicks ass to protect those she cares about. She is open and honest about her life style and her energy. Ready to take on the world one day at a time the best way she can.
Sera - INTJ (Architect)
Sera follows the rules and becomes the best she can be. She was given the directive of being the head angel and ran with it. She will do anything to keep her power and knowledge of the world. She is very smart and analytical when it comes to situations. Though she is in a powerful position, she is naturally introverted, often letting Emily take on more people-centric roles while she stands back and takes on more law and order roles.
Emily - ENTJ (Commander)
All right, this is more of what I just hope Emily becomes. In the span of minutes, we watched Emily completely turn her back on fellow Angels, all because she had learned what was really happening in hell. She would fight for the right cause and rally the troops for it. She is an energetic and open character who fights for what she believes is right. Seeing Pentious get redeemed, you bet she will be fighting for Charlie's plans.
Lute - ISFJ (Defender)
Okay, another may be controversial, but let me cook, please. Lute is super caring and concerned for her people, whether that is Adam, the exorcists, or angels as a whole. Yes, she looks like a big bad villain in the show because, well, she is. However, step into Lutes' shoes, and she is just trying to protect the peace of her people and family.
Adam - ENFJ (Protagonist)
He is another person who hear me out please needs to be looked at from his perspective. Adam is, by all means, the main protagonist in the Bible and in the world of heaven. He does what he believes is right and fights for what he believes is right. Even if he is an asshole, look at him from a different perspective than just through the eyes of Charlie, our narrator, through Hazbin Hotel. Adam believes his greatest purpose in life is to be the first man everyone has to look up to.
Vox -ESFP (Entertainer)
I mean, this is like writing itself; Vox is charismatic, has silver tongues, and is good with people. He can use his voice and charisma to woo people, and only then, if that fails, does he use his hypnotic powers. Vox enjoys entertaining by playing many roles in all his shows and assisting Vel and Val in any issue that seems to come up.
Valentino - ESTJ (Executive)
Hear me out, let me cook; we learn in should have stayed gone that Vox is pretty much powerless without the other Vee. It is also alluded to a few times that Val has been there the longest out of all the Vees. To be in the position of power Val is in, he needs to be an extrovert and have a way with words to lure people in. You may be thinking, but how does this tie into the executive role. I ask you to take a step back, like with the angels, and look at Val from the perspective of the Vees, not from Charlie and the narrators. He is set in his ways, expects perfection from his soul, and utilizes his power position as a form of mentorship for Vox and Vel so they can gain more notoriety.
Velvette - ISFP (Adventurer)
But she is a famous designer and sinstagram star. Yeah, and do you know how many influencers and social media people are actually introverts but come off as extroverted cause they are talking to a camera, not people directly. She is also suuuuper creative, and many fashion designers, just like other artists, have a hard time relating to people face to face and prefer to talk through their art mediums. I mean, look at how Velvette handled Val's tantrum. She called Vox cause she didn't know how to handle that situation.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 months ago
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The Princess & The Playboy: Six Months Timestamp
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Summary: Dean has retired from the NFL and has been enjoying his downtime with the reader. While she and Eric want to make sure he's safe, Sam and Max need to figure out what they want to do with their lives going forward...
Masterlist
Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader
Word Count: 2,500ish
Warnings: language, very brief mentions of smut
A/N: This timestamp takes place ~ six months after the end of the original series. Please enjoy!
_______
“Hey, wait a second-” you heard Dean say behind you before he let out a loud groan. You turned off the treadmill and hopped off the back, catching your breath while you took in the scene before you.
Dean was on his stomach, hands behind his back in a pair of zip ties as Eric straddled him and ruffled his hair. 
“Watch and learn, kiddo,” he said, pulling Dean up by his shirt collar so he was sitting. “You’re thinking too much. Y/N? She’s been running for over an hour. Watch what she does.”
Eric waved you over away from the workout equipment. You ditched your headphones along the way, still breathing hard when Eric tossed a pair of zip ties at you.
“We’re playing Catch. Go.” Eric moved fast towards you, faster than any man in his forties had a right to be. You watched his footwork and dodged to the left, swing your leg out as he missed you and connecting with the back of his knee. He went down on the padded floor and you flew yourself on top of him, wedging your knee between his shoulder blades and using your own weight to sit on top of him. It was uncomfortable for him, painful if you really wanted to hurt him and put down more pressure. But you weren’t meant to stay here for long as he could get back up if he really tried.
No, you grabbed the back of his neck as you moved your knee to his side and when he instinctually shot his arm up to grab your wrist, you jabbed your fingers right into his armpit. It made his body jerk at the odd sensation and his hand slip, allowing you to force his wrist through one loop and tighten. Once you had it, you used the other loop to force his arm back and then with a carefully aimed jab just under the rib cage, he tensed again and you had both hands secured. 
You rolled off him with a hard pant, Eric wincing a bit as he sat up. “You weren’t meant to win you little asshole.”
“Shouldn’t have trained me so good then,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. You got to your hands and knees, sitting back to stretch your legs as Eric got himself up and over to the wall where he had a pair of scissors.
“How the hell did you do that?” said Dean, Eric cutting himself free and then Dean. “You were literally doing sprints three minutes ago.”
“I think Eric’s point is it isn’t always physical,” you said, Eric offering Dean a towel to wipe up his sweat with. “We have to always be prepared, even if we’re exhausted. I’m sorry babe but he’s right, you do think too much when he’s teaching you moves. I was the same way at first. Now nearly a decade later look at me. You’ll get there.”
“To be fair, we’ve only been doing this stuff six months and you got the basics down good,” said Eric. An alarm on his watch pinged and he started to head out. “I’ll see you guys later. Y/N, we’ll head out a four.”
“Have fun at therapy,” you said, Eric rolling his eyes but smiling as he jogged down the hall to catch a quick shower. You turned to Dean who was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. “How do doing down there? Eric didn’t hurt anything?”
“Only my pride,” he sighed. You crawled over beside him, laying back so your head rested on his chest. “I can’t get any of this advanced crap. If anyone tries to bother you it’s not going to be some minor thing. It’ll be planned and-”
“And you didn’t start out throwing bombs down the field, knowing which play to run when. It’s just like football. You get the basics down and you build off of them. Sure, I know a lot now but I didn’t know the basics for two years. I still depend on Eric and Sloane and the team to keep us safe. It’s their job to protect us.”
“I know. Sometimes I worry though that I can’t protect you if it came down to it.” You laughed, Dean sitting up and sending you sliding down to his lap. He frowned at you. “Why’s that funny? I don’t know these moves. I couldn’t protect you back at that party. I’m not-”
“You stepped in front of me at that party when we found Sam and Max. You always walk between me and the street and switch sides if we go by an alley. You do so many little things that make me feel protected, Dean. Let the rest of them be the super soldiers. But you? I know if shit got real, you’re the most dangerous one of them all. You’re the one I want.” He pondered that for a moment, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know you got me.”
“Yes, I do,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you so much.”
“I love you.” You sat up, Dean’s arms pulling you into a hug. “Are you nervous about tonight?”
“A bit. I’m looking forward to it though. Are you excited to have the boys at a concert for the first time?” You hummed.
“Yeah, just keep an eye on them. I don’t want anyone with a VIP pass being weird to them. They haven’t been out in public much and those reporters are still hounding them.”
“I’ll ask my boys to watch their backs too,” said Dean, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “We ought to wash up. They should be getting out school soon.”
“Only if we can share,” you said, Dean chuckling before picking you up bridal style.
“Oh, I was planning on it.”
Thirty Minutes Later
“Hey Sammy,” you said from the kitchen, eating the late lunch Dean had prepared for you. Sam was smiling more than usual and you quirked an eyebrow. “Good day?”
“Amazing fucking day,” he said, taking off his backpack and pulling out a paper. Dean leaned over from across the island, Sam sliding it over. “I passed high school. Not even just my GED but I like passed it passed it. I’m gonna get a diploma and everything.”
“That’s awesome, Sammy,” said Dean, throwing his arm over Sam’s shoulders and hugging him tight. “You’ve always been such a nerd.”
You slipped away with your plate when noticed Max was on the back patio and hadn’t come inside yet. 
“How was school?” you asked, taking a seat next to him at the patio table. He shrugged, slouching down. You offered him the other half of your sandwich, Max taking it after a beat. “Can I be brutally honest with you?”
“About…” he said with his mouth full, eating far too quickly. You pursed your lips, breathing slowly. “What?”
“Sam got his diploma because he was abducted with only a few months of high school left. You had years. You’re going to get your GED and that’s that.” Max frowned, crossing his arms before looking away. “You can go to college with a GED you know.”
“I know that,” he muttered. You hummed, leaning your head back.
“So stop comparing yourself to Sam. I am just as proud of you for working on that GED as I am of him for his diploma. We all are. Max…I don’t give a shit if you have straight A’s or what you want your education to look like. You’re twenty eight years old. You get to pick what you want.”
“He’s always been smarter than me. He came up with the plan to-”
“Bullshit. Don’t act like a fucking brat.” He turned in his seat, angry and wide eyes meeting yours. “Sam was seventeen when he was grabbed. You were fucking fourteen. You said you didn’t meet Sam until you were seventeen. Three years you were on your own. You survived as a fucking kid on your own. I know every goddamn awful fact about trafficking children so I know you were fucking smart to make it on your own. Don’t you ever down-play your intelligence, do you understand me? You’re going to be whatever the fuck you want to in life because any kid that survives that can do anything he wants to. Now sulk how you need to and then go congratulate Sam because your brother just got his diploma and families celebrate that shit.”
You grabbed the plate and stood, halfway across the patio when Max cleared his throat. 
“Y/N.” You looked over you shoulder and sighed. He shrugged, a weird smile on his face. “Thanks. You and Dean, even Eric and Sloane, but you guys don’t baby us. I’m glad you’re still my sister.”
“Well I sure as shit ain’t your mom,” you said, Max laughing quietly. You nodded towards the door, Max taking his bag and walking over. “Let’s get a proper lunch before we head out, alright?”
Later That Night
“So you think the fans liked the show?” asked Dean around eleven. The house was much louder than you were used to after performances at the Wolves stadium. Someone had soft rock music playing through a bluetooth speaker on the patio. Half of the LA Wolves football team and their significant others were outside along with a few of his former coaches. Dean’s parents and Benny’s extended family. Eric and Sloane were talking in hushed tones in the kitchen with not an inch of space between them. Sam and Max were even talking to a few girls they’d met, younger sisters of a few of the players.
You rolled your eyes, laughing when Dean pulled you against his chest. “Based on the screams I’d say that all thought it was so lame when you came out to do your god awful dancing.”
“Um, excuse me but your choreographer said I was amazing,” scoffed Dean. You patted his arm, Dean pouting. “Was I really that bad?”
“You were great. That was for us anyways,” you said, both of your turning your heads when you heard a crash in the kitchen. Sloane was trying to pick up the mcdonalds boxes full of chicken nuggets off the ground while Eric held her waist, the pair of them giggling. “Can y’all keep it in your pants in public?”
“It was an accident,” said Eric with a shrug and smile that you recognized far too much these days. 
“Go get horny in your bedroom,” you said, pointing at the stairs. 
“Well if the boss says so,” said Eric, Sloane yelping when he picked her up, smacking his chest lightly. “What’d I do? You started it.”
“You’re such a liar,” she huffed, Eric humming as he waved goodnight. “Remember to-”
“Set the alarm,” said Dean. “Remember to wrap it up, old timer.”
Eric flipped him the bird as he headed up the stairs, mumbling something you couldn’t quite catch before they were gone.
“So those two are totally trying for a kid, right?” asked Dean. 
“Oh, absolutely. The wedding is in three months and I’ve already seen Eric reading articles about first time parenting.” Dean smirked, your finger going up. “We. Are. Not. Ready.”
“I know. But maybe in a few years we will be. Let their rugrat have a little cousin with our rugrat.” Dean took your hand, pulling your tattooed wrist to his lips, kissing it gently. “After our own wedding of course.”
“I’d like that…eventually,” you yawned, Dean brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m alright. Just a bit tired.”
“You want to head up to bed? The boys and my folks can make sure everyone’s taken care of.” 
“You sure?” you asked, Dean humming. “They have fun tonight?”
“I’m not sure you have bigger fans than those two,” he said, chuckling when one of your songs filtered in from outside. “Sam’s decided to do pre-law at Stanford in the fall. Apparently being famous helps you get into an Ivy League school late.”
“Good for him,” you said. “I don’t think Max is ready for college though.”
“It’ll be good for the boys to get some space. Max mentioned taking his GED maybe next month and then maybe technical school in the new year, work on cars with my uncle Bobby once he gets done.” You raised your eyebrows, smiling to yourself. “I may have had a chat with him while you were in rehearsals.”
“He needed it. He doesn’t have to go to school and honestly, in a garage he can just blend in and be a normal guy which is what he wants.” You let out another yawn, shaking your head. “Are you excited to start your work soon?”
“Yeah. Nervous but excited. I know some people think I should have taken a higher level-”
“Dean.” He met your gaze, taking a deep breath. “You had over three hundred job offers. Literally. If you’d wanted a pro or collegiate job, you would have taken it. If coaching a losing high school team is what makes you happy, then you’re going to do that.”
“I still don’t think they believed me when I said my goal was to get these kids to state within three years.”
“Oh that’s because they bet you’ll do it in one,” you teased, leaning your head against his chest. 
“Come on, Princess of Pop,” said Dean, picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.
“Hey guys,” said Sam, walking in with Max on his tail. “These girls invited us to go out to a bar with them. Is it cool if we go? Benny and Michael said they’d come with.”
“You’re adults, you don’t need to ask,” you said with a smile. “Just take a few guys for security with you. And watch your drinks. And practice safe sex if you-”
“And goodnight,” said Sam, heading back outside with a groan. Dean laughed as he headed for the stairs, his chest rumbling against yours.
“I just want them to be safe,” you said, Dean patting your back.
“I know, I know. They’re smart. S’good they want to go out, stretch their legs on their own. It means what we’re doing is working.”
“I guess it is,” you said, nuzzling into his neck with another yawn. “God. I can’t believe I toured non-stop for most of last year. How the hell did I do that?”
“You were just a wee bit exhausted,” said Dean as he reached the top of the stairs. “Let’s get you to bed so you can do it all over tomorrow night.”
“You know what I would kill for?” you asked. Dean kissed your temple, giving your body a big squeeze.
“One foot massage coming right up.”
“Thank you,” you murmured into his skin, Dean setting you down on your soft bedding.
“My pleasure, sweetheart.”
___________
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im-sleepdeprived · 7 months ago
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Crazier • Pt. 2
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wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)
pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader
a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)
warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school
read part 1 here
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The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way. 
"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero. 
His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."
"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder. 
"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.
So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you. 
"Can I ask why you're crying?" 
"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used. 
You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass." 
"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him. 
"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did. 
"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"
You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."
You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?" 
You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well. 
"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly. 
"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time. 
"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."
"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again. 
He decided he'd take what he could get. 
You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more. 
"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside. 
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Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too. 
When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open. 
You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea. 
Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid. 
While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge. 
"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes. 
"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot." 
He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."
You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day. 
"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that. 
"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged. 
"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"
You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."
His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things. 
"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling. 
"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay." 
"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."
So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip. 
He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.
Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side. 
He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"
You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."
That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him. 
"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle. 
You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"
He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him? 
"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?" 
"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything. 
"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be. 
You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.
"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything,  just in case.'
"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."
You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."
Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so. 
"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was. 
You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on." 
But deep down, neither of you believed that. 
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You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying. 
It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost. 
Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood. 
You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you. 
"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical. 
"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage. 
"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that. 
"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade. 
"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment. 
It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.   
Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall. 
"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. 
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious. 
You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."
She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"
"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued. 
"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little. 
"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways. 
She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him. 
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The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard). 
Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.
There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could. 
You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream. 
"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant. 
She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.
You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know. 
"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,
"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."
MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.
"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist. 
As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels. 
You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet. 
"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it. 
"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly. 
"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce. 
"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did. 
"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice. 
"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely. 
"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves. 
"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered. 
MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."
you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was. 
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"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes. 
It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them. 
So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was. 
"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement. 
They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone. 
"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true. 
"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal. 
"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree. 
"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested. 
"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered. 
Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud. 
Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again. 
As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun. 
"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention. 
he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped. 
"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over. 
you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two. 
"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her. 
"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question. 
"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh. 
The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"
"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing. 
"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N." 
You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."
"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."
"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped. 
You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated. 
She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes." 
You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door. 
"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder. 
"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again. 
"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,
"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring. 
He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors. 
"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."
"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you. 
"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you. 
"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement. 
"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper. 
You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"
The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question. 
You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment. 
The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists. 
You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in. 
You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed. 
"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it. 
You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you." 
He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close. 
You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit. 
Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"
Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you. 
"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin. 
"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious. 
"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this. 
"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns. 
You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing. 
"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed. 
You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."
She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."
You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry. 
You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls. 
You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"
Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."
"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh. 
"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile. 
You were dead set on doing everything on this list
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A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick. 
You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this. 
You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"
She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered. 
"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks. 
"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far. 
"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."
You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."
"We have to steal the principal's desk chair." 
"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head. 
"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why. 
Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."
Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you. 
the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."
"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered. 
"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."
You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed. 
You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you. 
"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead. 
She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal. 
"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask. 
"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."
Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him. 
You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her. 
"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."
"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion. 
You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about. 
Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."
Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter. 
Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled. 
You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.
You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter. 
"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide. 
"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?" 
She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves. 
The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up. 
They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces. 
"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time. 
You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked. 
They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other. 
"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"
The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement. 
Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."
Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"
"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.
"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips. 
"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."
"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left. 
Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"
Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."
You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"
"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod. 
You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,
"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."
Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."
Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"
they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind. 
You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said. 
"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad 
"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.
You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."
You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."
"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."
You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"
he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked. 
You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."
He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?" 
You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side. 
You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building. 
As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.
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read part 3 here !!
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princessbrunette · 8 months ago
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OUTERBANKS: THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU — THE LORE ♡
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CW: depressing tones, violence, death, blood, gore.
AN: okay, so i don’t really know what this is — but i wanted to open this up as an au i could write drabbles for with reader x character and i decided to write some extensive lore behind the universe i’m creating. i’ve always loved zombie media so i wanted to combine my fav things n create this little au for you guys. this isn’t really a fic but more so an opener to inspire drabble requests n ideas in my inbox, kind of like an experimentation. okay, hope you enjoy !! ౨ৎ
“We got gate one locked down, I repeat Pope— we got gate one locked down. Proceed with opening gate two. Over.”
“Got it, thanks JJ. Over.”
The squealing of mechanics shakes the dusty ground as the old gates begin to slowly slide, squealing as they open up revealing the long forest road up ahead. John B readies himself for a simple supply stake out, headed out alone to check out an old warehouse one of the runners had scoped out a week prior. As he exits the gates, he looks right and then looks left — stepping on the squishy skull of a previously dealt with Infected, its body lulling out from the old rickety grafitti’d sign reading Kitty Hawk.
The world went to shit back in 2020. Some sort of pandemic that had people biting others, their brains overpowered by aggression and hunger for flesh. One day everyone was cleaning up the beaches after Storm Agatha, the next day people were tearing into flesh right infront of your very eyes. At first, the people of the Outerbanks had moved out onto their boats, living out on the water with the occasional supply run. It worked for a while, the infected couldn’t swim so as long as your boat was afloat — you were safe from their bloody unforgiving jaws. However, supplies started to run out pretty fast, and people began to turn on eachother. Hopping boats and pirating until no one was left standing and the water was tainted with blood— the infected gathered on the shore to feast on the bodies slowly being washed up by the tide.
The pogues had found you by week six, your body curled on the pier by the Chateau crying into your hands having lost everyone you’d ever known. You were sure to soon perish— no supplies, no weapons, no food. Life had become bleak, hopeless — until for the first time in your life you’d felt the cold barrel of a pistol pressed to the back of your head.
“Who are you and why are you out here?” Kiara barks, a khaki green bandana tied to cover her nose and mouth.
“I’m— i’m just looking for shelter. I don’t have any weapons on me I swear I’m safe, please just —”
“Are you bit?”
“No!”
“Turn around.”
When you slowly turn, you’re met with two female faces, one more familiar than the other. Besides Kiara stands Sarah Cameron— a girl you went to school with. She looks more unsure than Carerra, hand resting on the pocket knife wedging out of the waistband to her denim shorts.
“I don’t think she’s bit Kie… hey, I think I know this girl.”
It was Sarah who had convinced Kiara to bring you back to the Chateau and let you stay. It was also Sarah who got you accustomed, explaining the role everyone played. She was a negotiator, her social ranking in the old world aiding her in communicating with people outside of the barricades they’d made. Kie was in charge of supplies, stock take and recruiting. She decided who was in and who was out. Pope was the brains, did all the mathematical equations to help the group understand their circumstances and chances of survival better. JJ, a fighter — most skilled in dealing with firearms and building bombs, which came in pretty handy when clearing out what was left of Kitty Hawk. John B was their leader, he often came up with the main strategies and stuck his neck out on the line.
Everyone was their own cog in the well oiled machine they’d built to aid them in surviving an apocalypse. It was uncertain what you could bring to the group until you’d mentioned that you’d been studying to be a nurse.
“S’good thing you come in useful ‘cus I was totally gonna suggest we use you as bait. Y’know, cos of the whole doe eyed damsel in distress thing you got goin’ on.” JJ jests with a smirk, and you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you to make sure you knew he was only kidding around.
You became a lot more useful for patching people up once you’d cleared out Kitty Hawk. The pogues and yourself had began to collect a larger group of survivors, creating a small town to live in what once was the behavioural-correctional camp. You’d collected gardeners, seamstresses, doctors — people of all ages looking for shelter and safety to live in the many dormitories the land had to offer. You had the evening shifts, patching up any runners that had return from their time outside of the gates with injuries.
You remember the day Sarah got bit so clearly.
The Twinkie had come barrelling through the gates so fast, the townspeople that protected the entrances barely getting them open in time before the vehicle was speeding in— Kiara and John B ushering the blonde out the doors yelling out for you urgently with devastation in their voices, begging you to amputate the arm she’d been bitten on.
The pogues had gone for what was promised to be a civil meeting with Ward and Rafe Cameron. The two had taken over what was left of Kildare, creating a strong colony in a gated community that Ward had just come into possession of right before the outbreak. They were feared, respected — and they wanted Sarah to return to them.
Of course, the meeting was a set up— and when Sarah had refused to go with them — they opened fire, attracting rogue infected to swarm in on the group. In the chaos, Sarah was bitten — and JJ in a fit of rage had shot Ward Cameron straight through the skull infront of his only son. This started an all out war.
You recall arriving to Sarah, and your heart sinking. It was definitely too late, her eyes blood shot and skin uncharacteristically pale. She was whispering “Its okay.” Over and over. You wasn’t sure if she was convincing you or herself.
Kiara took her out to the forest to put her out of her misery before she got the chance to turn into one of the brainless monsters that had existed outside the gates. She was stronger than you could ever be, holding back her tears as she aims the barrel to the blondes head. You weren’t there, but you heard the gunshot as you were patching up JJ who was skimmed by a bullet. You slept by his side that night without uttering a word about it.
Everyone got a little more serious from that point on. You often stared at the heart with her initials she’d carved into her old bunkbed that now sits empty in her dorm, her things laid out like she was still coming back to collect them one day. John B got a little more stern as a leader, over protective of you as he made it clear he didn’t believe you’d be able to protect yourself out there — banning you from leaving the gates. JJ became a more ferocious fighter, busying himself with target practice out in the forest shooting bullseyes each day to ensure he could quickly take down whoever he needed to. Pope got more reserved, more moody — hanging out by himself infront of maps or in the radio room with Kie trying to find new survivors. Occasionally, just occasionally — the bunch of you would get together and drink round a camp fire. Things would feel normal again, just for one night — the group laughing and telling stories the same way they might have done before the outbreak.
You wondered how long this could last, if there was ever an end to any of this. You also wondered if there was a reason to it all happening, if you were being punished for the way you’d behaved as human beings. Mostly though, on a day to day basis— you wondered when Rafe Cameron would return for his revenge. It was only a matter of time.
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starfilmz · 3 months ago
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SHOW ME WHERE IT HURTS — SAM W.
⤷ An argument between sam and dean lead for the younger winchester to call the teen help line his friends has been bugging him about. ᡣ𐭩
cw: gn!reader, sam pov, platonic relationships, maybe a little of mischaracterization, jess is here, swearing, takes place in s1ep1, unbeta’d so mistakes are around, inspired by dawson’s creek’s college help line and this fic (read if you like cj braxton or jensen!), alot of sam internal monologue. banner || gif
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It all started one night when Dean arrived at his and Jess’ apartment, out of nowhere, and tried to bring him back into hunting because of their dad’s prolonged disappearance. Sam’s mind was already a jumbled mess because of his interview on Monday; his brother’s appearance and his attempt to make him leave Stanford were the last things he needed. He can’t just leave the life he’s been building on his own—at first, at least, now he had his friends, his Jess— and Sam wasn’t willing to let it crumble down for the man that had shut him out of his own family.
He was quick to reject Dean, not even when he used his brotherly tone on him.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Dean said with a scowl. “Didn’t you hear what I said? Dad is—”
“I heard you, Dean.” Sam crossed his arms, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “And I meant what I said. This isn’t the first time Dad didn’t come when he said will.” He felt for Dean; he really did. If he were to have come sooner, before everything, Sam would’ve said yes. The guilt Sam had instilled in himself for leaving Dean weighed on his shoulders, but that wasn’t enough.
His brother’s frown deepened when he didn’t respond, though Sam could see the visible disappointment and anger in the boy’s eyes. The silence thickened the tension between them and deafened him—he swore he could hear Jess’ breathing in the other room.
Dean turned his head away from Sam, and with his jaw clenched in the same way he does whenever he wants to say something but refuses to. Sam, even with the little time he spent with Dean as a teenager, was able to pick up the facial expressions and unsaid words his brother would use when their dad was around.
“Fine.” It’s not fine. “I’ll go look for him myself, with or without you.” He meant that, actually. “Enjoy your little university, Sammy.” Go fuck yourself.
Sam suppressed a sigh as Dean left, who made sure to slam the door on his way out.
“That went well.” Jess was already behind him as she spoke. “He looked exactly as you described him; rugged and, I quote, like a ticking time bomb.” Her arms circled around his torso, managing to intertwine their fingers together. Sam remained quiet as he looked at the closed door.
He didn’t expect Dean to take his rejection so hard. Sam knew his brother was more than capable on fighting a house full of ghosts on his own, let alone finding a human being. Why did he need his help anyway?
Sam sighed, squeezing Jess’s hands. “It’s something you’ll need to get used to.” He turned around to plant a quick peck on the girl’s head, leading them back to their shared bedroom.
“I’m guessing this is a family matter you’re not going to share with me?” She asked as soon as she got on the bed.
“Jess...”
She smiled at him, though the corner of her lips didn’t exactly reach her eyes, and took his hand. Sam lets her gently pull him down beside her on the mattress, their feet planted on the wooden floorboards.
“I’m not going to pester you for it. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but judging from what I’ve heard, you guys have a lot to talk about with each other, not your girlfriend.”
“Tell me about it,” Sam agreed, running his fingers on his hair. “but I have a lot on my plate right now. I can’t just- you know, leave.”
Jess nodded, her expression never changing from her soft gaze. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you about it, since you don’t give me much detail about it.” Sam looked like he was about to be say her name again in that same tired voice whenever they would talk about his family. “But I know where you can. Anonymously, so you could tell all the details without trouble.”
He groaned, letting himself fall horizontally on the bed. Sam knew exactly what she was talking about. It’s been what his friends have been doing since the announcement from the school board. It was some sort of collaboration between neighboring schools— Stanford created a teenage helpline specifically for the university close to them, and vice versa. Some students confided in the helpline since the counselors weren’t from their university, but Sam had refused to give in.
It felt stupid to spill all your secrets and personal problems to another person, who’s most likely the same age as him, and expect to get the answers he needed. Sam had to point out that the helpline was used for normal problems, but that wasn’t something he could say to his friends, who continued to force him into dialing them.
“Jess, c’mon, I highly doubt a student can fix my problem with just one phone call.” Sam dismissed the idea entirely, but Jess seemed to be persistent with it, anyway. She lay on his chest, letting Sam’s hand twirl with the ends of her hair.
“Who said about fixing? or that it’s just one phone call?” Jess adjusted her position on the bed, letting her legs rest on Sam’s. “Sometimes, a person just has to talk to someone to help them feel better. Obviously the counselor won’t fix your family’s situation, but they could probably help you from exploding the pretty head of yours.”
Sam glanced at Jess, and from the tired tone in her voice when she spoke up, it didn’t surprise him to see her already fast asleep on top of him. He smiled for the first time in a while after Dean appeared, and the cogs in his head began spinning. For as long as he could remember, ever since he began studying at Stanford, Sam had nights where he’d talk to himself in his head. Sometimes, it would be about a test he needed to take the next morning— a topic he could easily make conversation with— but it’s usually about his family, more specifically his brother, Dean.
Especially during his first week, Sam found himself sleeping in a place that wasn’t a dingy motel with a roommate who wasn’t his brother. Sam wondered at night what Dean would be doing, knowing sleep was the last thing on the list. Then he would feel his chest tighten— the one thing his dad didn’t want his sons to have was fear. As much as he believed in Dean and the remaining fatherly instincts their dad had, Sam couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt for every possible injury his brother had or would have because he wasn’t there to back him up. The thought of the older brother, whom he viewed as the strongest person he knew (despite his lack of saying so), all bruised and battered, cornered by monsters no person should be laying their eyes on in the first place, clawed onto Sam the whole night.
And the worst part of it all was that he had nothing to prove himself otherwise, leaving him chained to his own guilt.
Sam closed his eyes, his migraine coming just in time. If monsters weren’t going to kill him, he was sure it would be himself who would do so.
—-
The next morning, as soon as he got his first vacant time in between classes, Sam had to excuse himself from his friends, including Jess, who exactly knew the reason why he needed to go back to the apartment. It was a now-or-never situation, Sam believed. He gave Jess a chaste kiss before leaving. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you,” she answered, though he was already a few steps away to hear it.
Sam entered the small home, leaving his bag on the couch, and grabbed the telephone from the bedroom. He was already pressing against the buttons before he registered what he was about to do. When it rang, Sam immediately began to think about what he was going to say.
It was an anonymous call, but surely he doesn’t have to be fully honest, right?
Even if Sam had never talked about his former profession to other people, he knew ghost hunting wasn’t exactly a well-received topic.
“Help line. This is Y/N.”
Sam held his breath for some reason, scared that even the pattern of his breathing could easily be an indicator of who he was. His leg nervously shook below him, still unable to say a word into the mouthpiece. A few seconds passed, and he heard your voice again; this time he could clearly hear your voice against his ear. Sam assumed you got closer to the phone.
“I could hear something shaking from your end, if I’m not mistaken. That’s either your hands trembling on the phone, your legs shaking against the floor, or it’s something else causing it.” His eyes widened at your observation just by what you’re hearing. This caused him to voluntarily stop his leg, embarrassed by his action.
“I guess it was you.” Your tone remained careful, though Sam had no idea why. “If there’s anything keeping you from talking freely, press on any of the buttons, please.” The boy finally registered your sudden change of mood— you were worried for him. It started to make him wonder what type of phone calls you receive every day.
“There’s nothing. I’m alone.” Sam leaned against the couch with a sigh. “Just nerves, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. A lot of first-time callers feel the same way.” You reassured him. He was glad your voice sounded much calmer.
“You can track those?”
“I mean, yeah, since you guys are anonymous, it’s the only way we can keep up with regulars.”
In truth, Sam fully expected a whole spiel from you. Like a robot scripted into saying whatever’s appropriate for the caller, he wasn’t fully prepared for your laid-back tone and casual words, as if the two of you were just friends talking.
“So, anything troubling you today? or in general?” He didn’t realize he’d been quiet for a whole minute. Again, he was surprised by the amount of patience you’re giving him.
“Oh, uh, yeah, yes.” Sam coughed into his fist at how awkward he sounded. “You guys don’t usually get family problems, don’t you?” He would assume so, seeing as both Help lines were created a few months before Midterms.
Sam heard a quiet chuckle from you. “We do, actually. A lot of Stanford students seemed to hate their parents more than we thought they would.” He doesn’t exactly fall far from them, Sam thought to himself.
“But we try our best not to fuel them. The Help Line is exactly what it is; we help, but only to a certain degree.” You continued, your voice full of the most sincerity he’s ever heard from someone. He could tell you were quite fond of what you do.
“I bet a lot of your callers were glad they decided to call you guys.”
“Maybe,” You paused for a moment. “are you?”
The change of topic caught him off guard. Sam didn’t exactly plan to keep the conversation going about you and Help Line; talking with you made him forget why he called in the first place. To catch that as well— you were really good of a counselor.
Sam nodded and realized what he just did before answering your question. “Yes, I am,” he couldn’t help the smile forming on his face. “this is probably the most like-able conversation I had over the phone.”
You hummed as you listened. “Unlike-able people calling you often?”
"Not really, now. I did have a bit of an argument with my brother in real life last night. I didn’t like how it ended.” Sam’s words came out almost naturally, unaware of how open he’s currently being. You had that sense of familiarity in Sam’s head already, despite how little time has passed since the two of you spoke.
“Tell me about it.” And he knew you meant it, so he did.
Sam gave all the details of what happened last night with Dean, though he had to keep him under the alias of ‘Older Brother’ for his sake. He told you about his relationship with their dad and with Dean, how he was never the son he wanted him to be, which resulted in him leaving for good and his small journey to Stanford.
He was still weighing his decision to be completely honest with you, and he told you that as well.
“That’s totally up to you, really. If those details aren’t needed for what you need help with, then you don’t have to.” You responded, being the ever-understanding angel Sam was learning you were.
“I’m not really looking for fixing, if that’s what you’re thinking of helping me,” he recalled Jess’ words from last night. “I don’t like talking about these things with my friends or my girlfriend because they shouldn’t be burdened by my messed up life.”
You were quiet on the other line, except for the barely audible breathing that told him you didn’t hang up on him. Sam wasn’t expecting an immediate response; you needed just the amount of time to think of one, just like any other person in a normal conversation would.
“I’m all ears, then. I can’t imagine having to handle all that by yourself. This call isn’t just for fixing, I assure you; sometimes people just need to let out some steam to help them think, y’know?”
“That’s true,” Sam agreed with a sigh. “I make a bunch of wrong decisions when I’m all worked up.”
“Like saying no to your brother?”
Sam’s lips thinned into a straight line, as if he were a deer caught in headlights. His silence seemed to have made you continue speaking.
“Hey, like I said, I’m all ears, but questions are meant to happen when you’re listening,” you said, your voice lighter than before, as if you’re trying to bring back the friendly mood.
Sam smiled as you did, scratching the back of his neck. “I get it, yeah,” he said, tapping on the back of the phone with his finger, thinking about your question. “my mind was a bit out of it last night, not to mention the—”
Pausing on his words, Sam managed to catch himself from mentioning how Dean greeted him that night. He didn’t think that was information you needed anyway.
“Never mind. What I’m trying to say is, yes, maybe my answer was a bit of a ‘heat of the moment’ thing,” Sam confessed. To you or to himself?
“I’m glad you finally managed to catch up with yourself.” Your voice was filled with humor, a teasing tone that somehow made Sam’s heavy chest a little bit lighter as he playfully scoffed.
“Is it allowed for counselors to make fun of their callers?” He challenged, but had no intention whatsoever. The chuckle from your end made him grin.
“Only if it’s needed in the process.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
The banter ended with the two of you laughing at each other, though Sam was laughing at himself a little bit. He knew Help Lines existed for a reason, but Sam doubted he’d get this much help if another person who wasn’t you had picked up his call in the first place. You were a good person in a good job that fitted you.
Sam’s mind was a bit clearer for now, definitely better than usual, and he wanted to fix his mistakes as soon as possible.
He was the first one to break the comfortable silence. “Thank you, by the way.”
“There’s no need for thanks,” You seemed to be genuinely pleased at it, though. “the best way you can thank me is if you feel better than before.”
“I do. After this call, I’ll probably start looking for my brother, if I can find a way.”
“Of course, you will. I can’t exactly help with that, but if you need me in ways that I can, feel free to call back next week.” Sam smiled at the offer. He wouldn’t mind that at all.
“How would I know it’s you I’m calling?” He asked.
“My shift starts at three pm and ends at eight. If you don’t get me, you’re allowed to switch counselors. Just look for the charming employee named Y/N and they’ll direct you to me.”
“I think saying your name would be just fine,” Sam chuckled as he heard your whispered protest. “okay, okay, I’ll ask the charming employee named Y/N when I call again.”
Your switch of moods made him shake his head. “That’s the spirit! You promise?”
“The name or the call?” Sam teased.
“Preferably both, but mostly the call part.”
“Yes, yeah, I will. I’ll update you on what happens.”
“Oh, gossip!” You faked a gasp, making you laugh at your own jokes as well Sam. “I’m so glad this isn’t a recorded line.”
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oolongteaboba · 1 year ago
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# ◞ ˚ ─ RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)
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info. rocket raccoon/f!reader smut. est. 3.2k words.
you and rocket share the same bunk, so you've been wearing nothing but a shirt to get his attention. and who knows? he might like you back.
a/n. hi hello first actual post on here! quick comment for the fingering part, just pretend rocket stole peter's nail clippers LMAO, i forgot to clarify that while writing whoops. also, you can alternatively read the fic here on ao3.
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In the past year you’ve spent with the guardians and living on the Milano, you began to appreciate each of them unconditionally; you were family, and they were yours.  Peter, a Terran like you, was a great conversationist, and you bonded over things you missed from Earth.  Gamora’s intimidating sometimes, but she acts like the sister you never had and has your best interests in mind.  You haven’t known Mantis for long, but she’s kind and gentle; plus, she’s starting to warm up to you.  Drax is some fun company, although most of your jokes fly over his head.  Groot clings onto you like a puppy, and the sprout insists on sitting between you and Rocket during dinnertime.  And well, Rocket is… Rocket.
Aboard the Milano, you shared a small bunk with Rocket and Groot.  Tonight, Groot was in Gamora’s bunk since she had Groot-bedtime-story-duty tonight, so you and Rocket had the already cramped bunk to yourselves.  Sharing a room with the two of them wasn’t entirely terrible, but you do have to deal with Rocket’s tech stuff being scattered all over the floor.
His bed wasn’t too far from yours, with the space between you only about two feet.  He’s working on a new set of blasters; you’re laying in bed on your back with your right leg over the left.  After being engrossed with his equipment for who knows how long, Rocket looks up from his machinery to glance at you.
“Christ, does it hurt to put on some pants for once?”  Rocket interjects, and you turn your head toward him.
“We share a room together.  You’ve seen me change before, and that never fazed you.  Besides, Groot isn’t even here.  It’s just us.”  He only replies with a huff and an eye roll.  “Besides, why do you care so much?”
Rocket scoffs, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  “I’m not the one walking around in a loose shirt and fuckin’ red lacy underwear.”
You avert your eyes from his as your cheeks grow hot, and you pull the hem of your shirt down mid-thigh to preserve your already damaged dignity.
“It’s all that was clean,” you mutter below your breath, just loud enough for him to hear, although from the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you.  “Plus, it’s hot in here, Rocket.  The air conditioning isn’t working correctly, we’re in space, and you haven’t fixed it yet,” you reply, uncrossing your legs.  He inhales sharply, returning to his blaster.
“I told you already, I don’t have the right parts yet,” he snaps at you.  “Go fix it yourself if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”
“So the oh-so-great Rocket Raccoon can build bombs from scrap material but can’t fix the AC unit?”
“I ain’t a raccoon,” he snarls, and it takes every fiber in your body to resist the urge not to continue teasing him.  “And I told you this shit already: we don’t have the needed parts.”
“Y’know, maybe I’ll start walking around with pants on if the air conditioning is fixed.”
Rocket exhales and lets out a small pfft that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.  “You’re bein’ whinier than Quill right now, know that?”
“You’re so sweet to me, Rocket.  Have I mentioned you’re the kindest person on this ship?” You smile, albeit sarcastically, and the corners of his mouth instinctively curl up in response.  You catch his brief smile for a fleeting moment and make eye contact, but he promptly looks away in embarrassment.
(You might tease him about it later, though.  He’s smiling because of you.)
“Go to sleep, doll.”  Rocket absentmindedly shoves the machinery onto his makeshift nightstand with a slight grin still etched on his features.  His disposition has improved in the past year; he smiles a lot more, though he tries to hide it, and the guardians have noticed.  Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.
“What about you?  Aren’t you going to sleep?”  His eyes look into yours, albeit briefly, and they’re warm, brown, and pretty, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing them sooner.
“Nah.  You Terrans need more sleep than I do.  And you look terrible, by the way.”  You fail at attempting to stifle a giggle at his sudden change in demeanor, which Rocket barely notices.  
“Aw, thank you, Rocket.  Love you too.”  Your eyelids flutter, and you pull a blanket over your body.  “You might not be Terran, but you should sleep too, y’know.  You’re always reprimanding Groot for staying up late, you hypocrite.”
Rocket’s features soften; he shoots you a toothy grin, although there’s a thought nagging at you, telling you there’s more than just sarcasm in his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  G’night, doll.”
You shoot Rocket a smile that’s brighter than the damn sun before shutting your eyes.  Unfortunately, you’re asleep before you can say ‘good night’ back.
-
Three nights later, tonight is Drax’s turn for Groot-bedtime-story-duty.
The temperature in the Milano isn’t as nearly inhabitable as last time, all because of you and Quill’s endless pleas for the AC to be fixed.  Thankfully, Peter hates absurdly hot weather just as much as you do.  Either that or hatred of heat is a Terran thing.  Somehow, the broken air conditioning didn’t affect the other non-Terran guardians on the ship as much.
Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together plays faintly in the background; you’re lounging on your bunk, back against the mattress, as you read one of Quill’s childhood comic books when the door opens, and Rocket enters your shared bunk.
As soon as he walks in, Rocket scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “For the love of god, I fixed the AC as you asked.  Put some goddamn pants on.”
“Hello to you too, Rocket,” you give him a smile before continuing reading, too focused on Quill’s comic book to notice Rocket’s blatant gawking at your exposed legs.  Your leg props up on the other, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “And I said maybe I’ll wear pants.”
He jumps in bed, setting Quill’s helmet at the foot of his bunk.  After a job that included killing Abilisks, Peter reluctantly handed it over to Rocket for some significantly postponed repairs and upgrades.
“You’re lucky, know that?  You’re the only person on this ship besides Groot whose shit I tolerate.”
“I love you too, Rocket.  Although, I’m pretty sure you’d shoot Quill if he started walking around the Milano with no pants on,” you answer, eyes still glued to the comic book.
“The only difference is that Quill isn’t the one walking around in his underwear.”
“Rocket, I honestly can’t see why it’s a big deal.  It’s been days since you won’t shut up about it,” you reply, setting Quill’s comic on top of your nightstand.
Rocket looks at you before sighing defeatedly, with some feeling that you can’t put your finger on captured in his eye.  You swallow your spit, and Rocket returns to his bold, unapologetic self.
“Fine.  Fuckin’ hell, we get it, it’s your bunk, and you can do whatever the hell you want-”
He pauses.  Rocket’s eyes trail down from your face to your body, taking in every inch of your revealed skin.
However, it’s too late for you to realize what exactly Rocket’s ogling at.
“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?”
You blink, promptly closing your legs (undoubtedly knowing it won’t do or change anything).  The already small space between your bunk and Rocket’s seems even smaller.  Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; Rocket is still rendered speechless.  You’ll never hear the end of it, you swear.  His gaze meets yours, but you don’t answer.  What feels like an eternity passes before Rocket speaks up, breaking the silence.
“You dirty fuckin’ girl,” he swears, his tone both degrading and impressed.  Rocket steps down from his bunk and closer to yours, his eyes drinking you in.  From the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to devour you whole.
“Rocket.”
Hesitantly, Rocket steps back, giving you space.  “Shit, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  Tell me to leave, and I will.”  He’s reluctant, although the tent in his pants slowly grows, and he isn’t hiding it well.  “We can forget about this.”
“Wait,” you immediately protest before rationale can stop you, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and leave.  “You can stay.”
From the look on his face, it doesn’t take him much convincing.  He knows what you’re thinking of (and knows what you want).  Rocket tenses; a few moments pass before he speaks up, unsure of what to do next.
“Can I touch you?”
You groan in response, both desperately and unashamedly.  Both your voice and body are tempting, practically inviting Rocket in.  He’s thought of you like this: both in daydreams and dreams, but he never would’ve imagined the moment (or you) to be more perfect.  “Please, Rocket.  I need you so damn badly.”
(Rocket’s definitely gonna bring this up later.  However, anything but him is entirely off your mind.)
He gladly complies, and his hands go underneath your shirt to meet your chest before massaging your breasts.  The sensation of his paws is foreign but welcome, one hand playing with your nipple as his tongue swirls around the other, gently nipping at your flesh.  He continues sucking, maintaining eye contact while your face burns from the intimacy.
The sound of Rocket’s mouth leaving your tits makes an explicit and wet pop sound, and drool pools in the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck, doll, I’ve been thinkin’ of doing this forever.  Couldn’t stop thinking about you since I got a look at that pair of that red, lacy underwear of yours and could barely keep my fuckin’ hands off.”
Rocket continues his ministrations on your chest, with one hand traveling down to your thigh, close to your puffy clit.  You elicit a formerly suppressed moan from your lips, much to Rocket’s inflated ego.  His pace is slow and teasing as if he’s waiting for you to break and beg for him to quicken his pace.
“Shit, you’re so pretty like this, all for me,” Rocket whispers in an intonation you can barely hear, almost impressed by how receptive and eager you are for his touch.  The ache between your thighs gradually amplifies from his praises, and you weaken at his attention.  Your breath quickens as his fingers trail up your thigh and languidly circles around your needy clit.  All words are stripped from your tongue, leaving you unable to speak.  Rocket’s fur almost tickles your skin as he marks love bites on you, hard enough to bruise.
“Fuh- fuck, Rocket, you feel so damn good,” you pant, air seemingly wrung out of your lungs.  “I need-”
You’re cut off by Rocket giving your cunt a firm spank, drawing out an embarrassingly vocal moan.  “Need what, dollface?”  He grins with a look of pride planted on his face as he gives your breasts and cunt much-needed attention, albeit slowly.
“I need you inside me,” you mewl, your cheeks feeling hot from the humiliation.  You know Rocket knows what you want; he’s eager to give it but wants to hear you beg for it first.
Somehow, his grin grows even more.  His slow circling on your clit stops, and you audibly groan, wordlessly begging for him to continue.  “I’ve barely touched ya, and you already want my cock inside?”
“Fuck you, Rocket,” you huff, heat building inside your lower abdomen and goosebumps growing on your skin.  “Please, I need you.”
He slips a paw inside your dripping cunt, and it takes a few seconds to get used to the new feeling.  “Gotta be patient, sweetheart.  You’re so pretty when you’re like that, know that?”
You nod, relishing the feeling of his fingers finding your G-spot, then slowly curling upwards.  Though his hands lack girth, he makes up for it with agility.
“Was this 'no panties' stunt all for me, dollface?”
“Yes. All for you, Rocket,” you answer absentmindedly, too focused on how good his fingers feel inside you.  Rocket’s fingers develop a languid rhythm, scissoring and stretching your walls to fit his cock.  You bite your lip to keep back a whimper but fail.  With every movement from Rocket, you feel yourself melting into the blankets and mattress, reduced to putty in Rocket’s hands.
“Keep going,” you mutter, surprised at your current capability to form words.  Rocket’s fingers gently press against your G-spot, eliciting a moan.  “G-go faster, Rocket.”
Instead of speeding up as you hoped, he completely stops, leaving you to writhe underneath him.  You tense up, missing the blissful sensation of his paws working inside you.  “What happened to you saying ‘please,’ huh?  You can do better than that, dollface.”
You tighten around his fingers, and you can practically feel the grin on his face as he waits for your pleas.  “God, fuck, Rocket, you know damn well what you’re doing to me,” you groan, heavy breaths interrupting almost every word.
“Try again, sweetheart,” he retorts, savoring the desperation all over your face.  Eager to feel more of him, you steadily move your hips, fucking yourself onto his fingers in response to his refusal.  “Beg me for it, and I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.”
“Please, Rocket?  I need you to fuck me, please; I want your cock inside me so goddamn badly- please just fuck me already-”
Rocket, convinced by your pleas, complies and interrupts you by undoing his clothing and unzipping his pants while you whimper at the sudden removal of his now-soaked fingers.
He lines his hips up with yours, the look on his face ravenous; he finally pushes into you slowly.  You’re left to grip tightly on his shoulders, watching as his cock disappears into you.  He’s smaller than an average male human but relatively girthy, and you feel his tip brush against your G-spot.  You whimper from his entrance, feeling full as he completely bottoms you out, massaging your inner walls.
Rocket’s breath hitches as he slowly starts to work you open, his hands spreading your thighs apart for better access.  He groans, setting a languid pace as he ruts into your warm and inviting cunt.  You raise your hips a little higher in response, aching to feel more of him.  His current tempo is sloppier than before, now being guided by his pleasure instead of yours alone.  The wet sound of Rocket’s hips rolling into yours is pornographic and explicit; you can hear him fucking in and out of your cunt.  You’re sure that your wetness has gotten all over Rocket’s fur by now, but at the moment, he doesn’t mind.
One of his hands leaves your thigh to offer attention to your swollen clit, gently circling around it, while the other hand grips you harshly.  Rocket becomes noticeably more vocal as his pace quickens, albeit opting for low grunts and moans.  The pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, and your lower lip trembles as you grip the bunk’s bedsheets.
“Shit, Rocket, you feel so good,” you mewl, stumbling over your words while he erratically thrusts into you.  Rocket’s greedy for every moan that leaves your lips, hoping to wring every one of them out your mouth.  He grunts, pace unfaltering as your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him like you don’t want him to let go.
“You’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” Rocket huffs, his almost soft voice contradicting his frenzied rhythm.  You whimper and whine with each thrust, enjoying how Rocket fills you up with his cock, and how the curve hits your G-spot.  “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”
Tension builds in your stomach, and your toes curl from the sheer pleasure.  Despite Rocket’s unrelenting tempo, the feel of his hands and the look on his face is strangely soft and tender.  His fingers circle around your clit more quickly, and you feel heat spread under your skin.
“Rocket, I’m getting close,” you murmur, the burning coil within your abdomen intensifying with each second he pumps inside you.  With a moan, you let out a shaky breath as he rocks his hips into yours, feeling dangerously close to your climax.  From watching him loudly groan and how he haphazardly ruts into you, he’s also close to orgasm.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this,” Rocket praises, inhaling sharply as his cock twitches inside you.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  Cum on my cock.”
Without a second thought, you nod, succumbing to pleasure as Rocket pounds himself into you, his hand rubbing at your clit.  Tiny beads of sweat pool on your forehead as you begin to finish, and Rocket rolls a thumb over your nipple, almost encouraging you to cum.  Your walls spasm around his cock, begging him to do the same.  The feeling of him inside you, combined with the constant attention your clit receives, is overstimulating, and you’re barely able to hold back from coming.
“Inside me, Rocket,” you beg, trembling from sensitivity and euphoria.  “Please, cum inside me.”
Rocket only grins, a smug look forming on his face.  The white coil only amplifies, reducing you to a wordless, desperate mess underneath him until it finally snaps, and you come undone on his cock.  Eyes rolling back from the increased pleasure, you see stars in your blurred vision; you spasm around him, and with a few last strokes, Rocket cums inside you, emptying himself inside you.  His pace slows as you convulse around him, attempting to milk every drop of his cum, and your heartbeat slows from its high.
His last strokes are sloppy and frantic; Rocket huffs as he finally drains every bit of himself inside you.  Your muscles tense from aftershocks, and you hear Rocket silently swear.  With an embarrassingly wet squelch sound, Rocket pulls out his cock, leaving some of his cum to drip from your cunt, and onto your thighs.  Trying to regain your strength, you momentarily remain silent, basking in the afterglow, and he does the same.
Your breathing is labored, still coming down from your high.  “Sorry I got your fur wet,” you beam, your knees still weak from copulation, and Rocket lets out a low laugh.  You shift your body over to the far side of the bunk, offering Rocket space to sit next to you.  Without a word, he complies, his back laid against your front, and he sighs in contentment.
“I’ll shower in the mornin,’ doll,” he replies, fixing his messy hair, attempting to freshen up.  Rocket’s head rests on your neck; hesitantly, you put your arm around him, but he doesn’t mind it, although it takes him a second to adjust to the newfound affection.  You contentedly sigh, languidly running your fingers through his soft fur, and Rocket practically melts at the touch of your fingers.
“Y'know, I really like you, Rocket,” you quietly whisper, although just loud enough for him to hear.  Rocket doesn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving you in empty silence and a tiny bit of nervousness. 'Love' is a strong word; the word 'like' is weaker. However, right now, both don't fit right coming out of your mouth. It's too late to retract saying 'I really like you,' but before you can conjure a second thought, Rocket gathers his voice.
“Yeah.  I like you a whole lot too." Your face softens, and you wrap your arms around him, surprisingly being met with no protest from Rocket.  You softly kiss his forehead and doze off into slumber, Rocket huddled in your arms. Tomorrow morning, you’re certain Star-Lord would barge into your bunk to wake you up for the next contract, but for now, you’re happy to lay in bed and worry about it later.
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