#SAVE ME BIG CITIES AT NIGHT
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wish-i-were-heather · 3 months ago
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looking through my instagram travel highlights and reminiscing 😔
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skunkes · 10 months ago
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Hope you giggle and smile big today
i hope so toooo t_t thank u
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kimarisgundam · 9 months ago
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Not irl, just Cyberpunk Red drama again 😅
I just want to say that as myself, I feel so bad for my friend's Rockerboy character cos he's been through so much ;_;
And I feel super bad for backstabbing him as my Netrunner in the beginning of this campaign ;_;
BUT I need to be in character when RPing
My Netrunner abandoned her real name long ago. She goes by her net handle or by the name given to her by her sponsor (actually her bio dad...)
Only her elder brother calls her by her real name when he's exceptionally disappointed with her or when he's concerned about her
As myself, I get that Rockerboy is desperately trying to reconnect with my Netrunner. But as my Netrunner, him calling me by my real name is like an insult to my dead brother
I'm suffering from mild psychosis now. I'm not being rational. To me, it's like Rockerboy thinks he can replace my brother. Who does he think he is? How dare he use my real name >:U
I was vulnerable because I saw him as my first real friend. That's why I trusted him with my name. But he trampled all over my trust >:/
The worst part is he tinted her memory by betraying her trust. They exchanged real names when he shared with her a BD of them sitting under a starry sky far away from Night City
When my Netrunner saw the stars, she dared to dream of being free... which got her into the current mess she's in... but at least for once in her life she found the courage to go against Arasaka/dad. That BD was a precious memory for her
But my friend/Rockerboy just ruined everything by doing the one thing my Netrunner told him never to do 😠. Now she can't think of that day without feeling betrayed 😠
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immortalsins · 7 months ago
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ough the way my friend in my house was insisting that it's best to go to a beach in another city along the coast (to celebrate another friend's birthday) but five of us could go in her car and one would have to take the (expensive, long) train alone (with beach stuff), instead of just going to the smaller but closer beach that we can all get to on the bus together. she stood there and said 'we'll get to the beach quicker in my car than all on the bus' ok five of us will. and the other will not. but that doesn't matter to her
#so they're at this beach now because i said i'll stay home and let everyone else take the spaces in the car#i didn't want to go anyway and i think i might look like a bit of an asshole#the way she looked at me last night and said. we still need to decide who's taking the train there.#right first off you did not tell me someone was going to have to take the train#and maybe i'm being paranoid but yeah in what world wouldn't you want that to be me#she doesn't give a shit fr#the way i get ignored until i'm talking to her about something she wants to listen to.......#i know she's not as close to me as she is with the other two friends going to the beach#and her and one friend have partners who would be in the car with them#leaving one spare seat between me and my other friend#who didn't even know of the train problem until i told her#its not a big deal but u look directly in my eyes and say we need to decide who's not travelling with us. who will have to take the bus to#the city centre then pay for a train ticket then get from the station to the beach then all the way back again.#we need to decide this because *i* don't want to take the bus to the alternative beach even if it means we all get to travel together.#she's my friend but to be blunt she's inconsiderate and self-centred#and too neurotypical to communicate clearly#so much of what she wants to say is implied#like unplugging the tumblr dryer and tightly folding up the cord behind it when she wants us to stop using it to save money#LMAO just talk to us. please#and if you want me to tag behind you on a train#just say that and i'll know
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sanchoyo · 1 year ago
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ouuhgh one of my fav artists is playing nearby in a week and im so torn. I could get tickets, theyre actually reasonably priced..but its a 3 hour drive there (then the drive back) and id be going alone and then id have to ask my mom if I could use her car...I've never been to a concert alone and have no idea how my anxiety would do. but also what if she never performs near here again 😔
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kerink · 2 years ago
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oh no bulk made me think about silas
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whimsiwitchy · 4 months ago
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Controversially Young Girlfriend 
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Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 
series masterlist & main masterlist
summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 
warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. 
warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. i do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything! <33
authors note: this is an idea I had that I really needed to write. I’d love to make this a series if you guys want more, just let me know! This is only my second time writing fanfiction and my first time writing for Hugh, please be nice lol. Thank you for reading! <3
Part one: breakup and new beginnings 
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Being a young girl living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere made it seem impossible to live your dreams of becoming a singer. You grew up in a tiny little town in Louisiana called Minden. With a population of less than 15,000 people, the closest ‘big’ city being Shreveport, growing up was pretty boring. You had big dreams of making it big and making it the fuck out of the country. Minden wasn’t always so bad. It was a nice community that had fun things here and there, but you craved more. 
Once you graduated highschool back in 2020, you focused on working and saving as much money as you could, only buying essentials and equipment to help make music. You took a few online classes on producing and tried your best to make whatever song was bouncing around in your head come to life. It took a year for you to feel confident enough to release your first few songs out into the world. So in July of 2021, you teased a song on TikTok to your small following. You started to gain a few more followers here and there, it was exciting. At the end of August, you released your first song titled ‘to the point’ and it blew up on the clock app. You gained a hefty following after that, on the brink of hitting one million. 
By the end of 2022, deciding on Los Angeles, you had finally saved enough money to move, so you were packing your bags and heading out. Your agent was ecstatic about the move because it meant more opportunities for your career. After releasing a few more songs over the past year, you hired Stacy to help you manage everything. 
Fastwording to 2024, your dreams have come true and you have been an established and respected artist for almost two years. You started to build a reputation as someone who was dedicated and passionate about their craft- always being involved in any creative process. It was bliss. Lately though, you’ve gained another reputation, the controversial young girlfriend, a whore, a gold digger. Since you’ve been in the spotlight, you’ve had your fair share of dating history and if they all happened to be older men, so what? It wasn’t something you had planned on but older men were just built differently. They were so much sexier and put together than the guys your age. They knew what they were doing and how to treat a woman right. You were so tired of being asked out through instagram direct messages, you wanted someone who wasn’t afraid to talk to you in person, and that seemed to only come from men twice your age. You weren’t complaining though, you enjoyed it. 
Your last ‘scandalous’ relationship ended up being far more public than you intended it to be. In the beginning, the men you were seen with were never anything serious, just dates or one night stands. Though with Pedro it was different. You dated him for six months before it all came crashing down and you felt heartbroken. He was the sweetest man you’d ever been with and it all ended because the hate from fans on our age gap was too much for him. It was an ugly breakup and you were positive that he wouldn’t want to be associated with you anymore, even as friends. 
-
“I should have picked a different song.” You huff in frustration. Today you were going to be performing on BBC’s Radio 1 Live Lounge and as requested, you'd be performing your own song and a cover of your choosing. When Stacy first presented this opportunity to you, it had only been a month after your recent breakup and naturally you chose to cover ‘THE GREATEST’ by Billie Eilish. Now that you were mostly over Pedro, the song seemed silly to sing and you weren’t feeling as vocally confident now that you were here. 
“Babe, you’re gonna kill it! Just let your emotions flow, give the fans what they want.” Stacy is sitting across the room as she comforts you. She’s fidgeting with your vocal humidifier, attempting to put it together before you start warming up. Her advice isn’t terrible, she’s right. You’d been pretty silent on the subject matter, steering clear of social media so you wouldn’t say anything stupid. Rumors of your breakup had been all over the headlines but there hasn’t been confirmation from either of you. Singing this song today would definitely stir the pot again and make everyone realize that it is done between you two. 
“You’re right.” 
“As always. Here, start warming up the money maker.” She laughs while handing you the humidifier. 
“I really hope he doesn’t watch it. I’d literally smash my head into a brick wall out of embarrassment…” 
Placing the humidifier over your mouth and nose, you sit there letting your mind wander. Having your personal life exposed to everyone really sucked and hiding your boyfriends wasn’t something you wanted to do, but you knew that in the future it was something that would have to happen. 
“I think I’m taking a break from men.” You let out proudly, glancing over at Stacy. 
“Whatever you say girl.” You could hear the doubt lingering in her tone and the roll of her eyes. 
“Ugh… You don’t believe me do you? I can totally break off from men and be my own person for once.” 
“I’m not trying to doubt you babe. It’s just…You tend to attract men like a magnet and you have some severe daddy issues.” She's typing away on her laptop as if she didn’t just completely disrespect you. 
“I don’t have daddy issues.” You say flatly. “I happen to have a very loving father who was always present in my life, so the whole dating older men thing does NOT stem from daddy issues. Thank you very much.” You say matter of factly. 
“Hm..Well I give it a week.” 
-
After a few sound checks for your mic and band, you perform your first song. You chose a more upbeat song off your debut album to start, given that you were about to lay your heart out of the line. It was honestly kind of awkward performing in this setting. There was a booth in front of you that had the sound board and all of the other electronic stuff that you didn’t understand. Then right to the left of that, the cameras were positioned with a group of crew members sitting behind them. It always felt awkward performing to smaller audiences. 
The first song went by smoothly, earning a few cheers from the people in the room. As the band prepared for the next song, you could see the door in the booth open and two figures walk in. You weren’t wearing your glasses or contacts since it was supposed to be a short day, so you really couldn’t make out who had just walked in. You assumed more workers came in and brushed it off. 
“All ready?” A man behind the camera asks and you give a thumbs up. 
You somehow managed to get through the song without having any vocal mess ups. It was a challenging song and you'd definitely have to text Billie later to give her some credit. A few tears slipped here and there, feeling the emotions that you thought were gone slowly be released. You pulled yourself together and you felt really proud of the performance as a whole, showing the world the potential your voice had. 
A few soft claps are dying out as everyone starts cleaning up the room. You’re reaching down to grab your water bottle when you feel someone rushing up towards you. 
“Ahhh you did great babe but um two hot dudes will be walking through that door any second!” Stacy is whispering and all you could do was give her a confused look before the door opens. You squint trying to make out the two figures. 
“God you’re talented!” You hear the voice before you see the face. 
“Oh um, thank you so much.” You let out not really sure who you were speaking to. Once the two men get into view, your jaw drops slightly. 
“HOLY SHIT!” You yell a little too loudly. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you hear a very rich man laugh coming from a very good looking man. For some reason, whoever is in charge of the fate of the universe has blessed you with the presence of Ryan Reynalds and Hugh Jackaman. 
“Oh my god i’m so sorry, that’s literally so embarrassing. I just couldn’t see who you were at first.” 
“It’s okay sweetheart.” They both wear big smiles on their faces. 
“I’m y/n, it’s so nice to meet y’all, i’m a big fan!” You gush out, trying your best to refrain from fangirling. 
“We’re big fans as well. We were next door interviewing for the radio show, when we heard you were recording over here. We ran over here to try to catch you.” Ryan lets out. 
“No shit! That’s so cool. I really appreciate it.” Before the conversation could continue, Ryan is being called over by someone, leaving Hugh and yourself alone. 
“Hows Pedro, haven't seen him in awhile.” Hugh asks genuinely, giving you a small smile. It caught you off guard completely. You racked your brain trying to think of a time in your six month relationship that Pedro mentioned Hugh at all but nothing came up. 
“Oh I uh- I wouldn’t know. We aren’t together anymore.” Your voice is soft, trying not to make this any more awkward. 
“Shit. I’m so sorry, with the way he spoke about you, I thought you’d be together longer…” He trails off. 
“Yea me too.. he couldn’t handle the heat I guess.” You shrug. 
“Well, his loss yea?” He smiles trying to cheer you up. 
“Yea..” You say softly, your voice matching your smile. You take a moment to really look at him and he’s beyond handsome. He’s aged but in a way that makes you wish you were able to see the years go by with him. He was tall, almost towering over you, and his muscles were practically popping out of his shirt. 
The same guy that was walking to Ryan, gathers the three of you for a picture for the BBC socials. You stand in the middle, both men placing their arms behind either side of you. Hugh’s hand was placed on the small of your back. You looked up at him quickly, his face already smiling at the camera. You hear the camera go off a few times, causing you to look that way as well. Once the cameraman was satisfied, everyone gave their goodbyes and the room cleared out. 
-
Later that night you were scrolling through your phone when a text popped up from Stacy. 
Stacypoo <33: I told you. You couldn’t even go a week. ;) 
The text is accompanied by a screenshot of a notification stating that “‘thehughjackman’ started following you!”. You rushed to open instagram and went to your followers to search from his name. You stared at his page for a few minutes before following him back. 
While you had control over your own social media, someone handled all of your business related content. You went on your page to see that the picture that was taken at BBC earlier today was already posted with one comment standing out beyond the rest. 
Thehughjackman: Great meeting you sweetheart! :)
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Thank you for reading <3
part two
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hischokehold · 4 months ago
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Pretty Please?
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older!könig with a pretty girl who won't leave him alone.
"Hello, mister officer." Pretty doe eyes nearly melt in his, tilted up so sweetly just so you could meet his gaze. Arms locked around his, clinging so gently to his biceps like you have been for the past two weeks.
König grumbled, barely taking a glance at you and your provocative outfit, teasing him. "Back for more, little girl? What did I tell you?" He tsks, baby blues barely evading your exposed cleavage pressed up against him.
"To focus on my studies. I am. Swear I am. Aced my exams, don't I deserve a reward?" You hummed, though he found your words rather hard to believe when you were so obviously checking him out.
You've been getting bold recently, haven't you, liebling?
It all started with a simple encounter, really; with König saving your drunken state from a group of men in his local bar. The perfect damsel in distress. He had pulled you by his hip, dragging you to the nearest bench to slip your glittery high heels right back into your feet. It was one of the rare moments where the colonel wasn't in the front lines. Still, he found himself a little pastime, using his influence to do some shady deals in the city's biggest club.
He didn't exactly expect to have such a cute thing clinging to him.
After a few minutes of listening to your rambling, cooing at you, König finally called you a cab and sent you off. A nice encounter, that's all it was.
Until he found you and your little self began throwing yourself at him almost every night, practically begging for his attention. "Just wanted to thank you for last time," You pout, batting your lashes at him. "Can't I do that?"
You could still see the remnants of blues in his knuckles from beating those bastards to a pulp. His big hands pat the small of your back in a reprimanding manner, shamefully reminding you that you were smitten by a man who you met barely a week ago.
"A thank you would suffice, darling."
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König stood his ground. He had morals— what little he has left anyways. You're pretty, no doubt about that. He knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of such a fragile girl. But at the end of the day, he's just a man. Surely, you knew what would happen if you provoked him too much with your womanly charms?
"Y'shouldn't be playing around with men like me, little girl." He drawls, accent thick as he lightly taps your soft cheeks. Something clicked in you at the mention of the rather degrading pet name, pupils fully blown as you nodded at his every word, unable to register anything anymore.
An "I like you." comes from your plump, glossed up lips before you could even control it. Your 100th confession this week alone. Many would call you shameless and maybe you'd feel an ounce of it if you weren't so busy eyeing up his bulging biceps through his tight-fitted polo shirt.
He's intense, you think. And he makes you painfully shy.
"Hm?" He tilts his head, and he's so handsome, and gruff, and big that he has your mind spinning around in circles and doing backflips. Soft brows furrow as brutish hands cup your cheeks, lips puckering up into a small 'o'.
The tip of his tongue swipes down his lips while he indulges in the sight. A pretty girl, a young thing looking up at him all stupid and dazed out. Begging for an older man's attention. "How naughty." He tugs you closer, puffing cigarette smoke all over your pretty face, leaving coughing from the sudden intrusion in your nostrils.
He chuckles darkly, lightly patting the small of your back. "Be a good girl and run along, ja?" He flicks his cig to the side, putting its flame out with a stomp.
"N-No! please," you breathe, manicured fingertips finding your way to his belt, slithering along the lines. His eyes never leave yours, darkening as you inch closer to his manhood, leaving you dizzied.
There's hurried chattering in the background, a scantily clad group of three wore worried expressions on their faces, calling out your name.
"Ah, your friends are here, darling." You don't even have time to respond before he's nudging you out the dark alley, sending you off your merry wya but not before giving your rear a little slap.
"And keep that backside lookin' pretty for me."
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novelistwriter · 25 days ago
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The Ghost Kid of Gotham
DP x DC Prompt
When Danny told his parents about him being Phantom, he was strapped down to a table and cut open by them. By the time he was saved it was too late, he became a Full Ghost, with it changing because he died a second time, tears constantly flow from his eyes, chains are around his wrists and ankles, leather straps are around his torso, and his logo is no longer seen, just a ripped off part of his hazmat that shows the scar left behind by being cut open.
He doesn't remember much after being saved, just that he had destroyed a lot of things in his grief, Vlad was the one to tell him, and the Fruitloop was in a bad condition when the Halfa came to him. He's the Ghost King, but the council still runs the Infinite Realms, he's just a figure head with a lot of Power and Influence used, all because he doesn't have his human half anymore, he can't make the Infinite Realms better without it, Clockwork told him that with a sadness in his voice.
One thing that Danny can do to make things better is his new power to remove curses by being close to the affected person/object/location, so Clockwork sent Danny to Gotham just as Batman was starting his career as a Vigilante.
Gotham had been cursed a lot in the past, that's why the city is the way it is, Lady Gotham couldn't undo them all herself, so she asked Clockwork, her old friend, for help, he sent Danny, still known as Phantom.
Phantom and Batman first met when Batman had gotten word of a mysterious entity nearby doing something shady, this was Phantom in the middle of removing a curse.
Batman did his usual 'interrogation' tactics, but he was stunned to see a young boy with tears falling from his face, chains on his wrists and ankles, leather straps on his torso and a part of his outfit with a tear in it, showing a autopsy scar.
Phantom had told him what he was doing, and what he is, the Ghost of a Child. This led to Batman seeing if he could help the Ghost move on, all he was told was "I can't move on, she needs help", when asked who 'she' was, all Phantom said was "Gotham" before disappearing.
What Batman didn't know was that he wasn't the only one who was near Phantom, other citizens of Gotham heard what Phantom said to Batman, they believed that Phantom was the Ghost of a Gothamite child who lingers to help the city, they spread the word about what they heard that night.
Over time, Phantom has interacted with many of the big names in Gotham as they appeared, Joker reminds him of Freakshow, but Phantom doesn't attack him, just seeing if playing Jokers games would get the Joker to rethink his ways, thinking Joker is cursed. Before Harleen became Harley, Phantom sought out the Psychiatrist to remember his sister, having told the woman that she sounds like his sister when she helps people. Before Pamela became Ivy, Phantom sought her out to remember his best friend who loved plants. When Croc began to show himself, Phantom seeks him out to talk to him, one of their talks is overhead by citizens, after that talk overheard by the citizens, they try and treat Waylon better. When Scarecrow emerged, Phantom isn't affected by the Fear Gas, but lingers near Crane to remember Fright Knight. Bane almost reminds Phantom of his father, Phantom had cowered during Banes first attack on Gotham with the him nearby, but what Phantom said will stick with the Gothamites and Bad Guys forever.
"Please Dad! Don't hurt me again! Don't put me back on that table!"
After Phantom had said that, the Ghost had run away, leaving Bane, his crew, and many citizens shocked by what Phantom revealed about himself, a child, who was most likely harmed and killed by his own father.
There are others Phantom interacts with. Riddler reminds Phantom of Clockwork, and Phantom both likes and despises Riddler because of that. Grundy is Phantoms regular, as Phantom is drawn to the Zombie because they are the same, undead beings that still linger. Phantom even tries to help the Talons that he runs into, saying that the "Baby Ghosts need to be cleaned of the rotten Ectoplasm in them to be healthy". Leslie reminds Phantom of Frostbite.
When each Robin takes flight, Gotham goes through a positive change in appearance, during Dicks time, it rained less, during Jason's time, there was less Smog in the sky, showing more of the sky during days and nights, when Tim was Robin, Gotham had cleaner air and clearer skies, by the time Damian became Robin, Gotham is as healthy as it could be without the curses affecting it.
Phantom seeks out reporters, running into Vicki Vale during one of her live reports on a attack, he goes up to her, knowing that Gotham's citizens will be watching this broadcast. What Phantom doesn't know, is that both Gotham and its people have grown attached to the Ghost Boy.
"Gotham is healthy, she doesn't need me to help her anymore, it's time for me to go"
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parfaitblogs · 21 days ago
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'tis the damn season ❀ s. reid x reader
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in which christmas is the season to crawl back into your ex's life, and you accidentally do so one drunken night. 
pairing: ex!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: flangst tags: still in love exes. alcohol consumption. (sleepy) drunk reader. spencer reid's fear of dementia. word count: 1.3k a/n: obligatory do not contact your exes this holiday season. just fantasise about doing it to spencer reid. it’s opening night for my play so!! here is this while i go off to do that!!! :D
❄︎ advent calendar masterlist
Fourteen missed calls.
Spencer Reid had fourteen missed calls, from a number he did not have saved, but could recognise despite the months that have passed and the seasons that have changed. 
Why did he have fourteen missed calls?
Christmas was always an awful time for him. The striking reminder that he was alone in a big city, for his mother does not remember him this year, his father does not exist in his life, and his friends have families of their own. 
And then there was you. Oh God, there was you. 
He thinks even when he grows old and his brain begins to delete files from his expansive memory, you will stick around forever. He thinks he is physically incapable of forgetting you, even if he tried. Sickeningly so. 
Shaking hands answer the sixteenth call before it can ring through, having watched the fifteenth come and go. He was met with a lot of silence, and he had to question if he even had picked up the call. 
But yes, you were there. Quietly. Breathing into the phone, perhaps surprised by the fact that he had actually answered. Or maybe this wasn't you. Maybe you had changed your number, or gotten your phone stolen, or—
"Spencer?"
If anything were to pierce the silence in his apartment, it might be the shattering of his heart as he listens to you speak his name for the first time in thirteen months. Your voice was so familiar, yet so different, too. You had thirteen months of growth, and yet you sound the same as you had the day he first met you.
"Hey," he finally breathes out, and he hears you shakily exhale. 
"Can you open your door? S'really cold out here."
He freezes. The causality in your tone tells him there's something else motivating your random reappearance in his life, followed closely by the faintest hint of a slur in your words. 
Oh.
He heads to his door, and sure enough, on the other side of it, stands you, in something borderline ridiculous for the December weather. No wonder you were freezing. 
"What're you—why're you—come in—it's freezing," he stammers out, eventually deciding on stepping to the side to let you into his warmer apartment, the visible relaxation of your shoulders providing some comfort to him in light of your state. 
"Your hair," you say, eyes wide as he coaxes you inside and to his kitchen countertop. His fingertips probably burn holes through the fabric of your dress as he guides you. 
"My hair," he replies, and though it isn't posed as a question, he is confused. 
"It's longer," you clarify for him. "I like it."
He provides a weak smile. "Thank you. Are you cold?"
"Not anymore," you shake your head, finding a seat at his island, folding yourself in half over the edge of it, resting your head on the marble. "Your apartment's warm."
He nods his head, walking around to the other side of it, using his hands to lift your head back up. "Don't fall asleep."
"'m not," you mumble in response, though your head growing heavier and lolling into his left palm claimed otherwise. 
"Liar," he muses, and you huff, quietly, but force your eyes open regardless. He ignores the heavy feeling in his chest when the two of you lock eyes. "There she is. Why're you here?"
"I dunno, actually," you say, and his heart sinks. "My friends put me in a taxi an hour ago. Or two hours. I don't really remember," he presumes one hour — you were still so drunk. "And I asked him to drive me around. He said okay, but he needed a final destination too. I guess I gave him your address."
"Why?"
"Habit, maybe," you murmur.
"It's habit to take a taxi back to my apartment?" 
You shrug your shoulders. "'Cause I used to. Back when..."
We were still together, hangs off the end of your sentence. 
"Christmas party?" he then asks you, and your head nods against his palm. 
"For work," you end the word with a yawn. "I wanted to Merry Christmas my way back into your life, I guess."
He knew it was your lowered inhibitions spilling these details out to him, and he should pretend you aren't saying things like this for your own benefit. But he also couldn't stop the visceral reaction he has towards your admission of wanting to reenter his life. 
"You shouldn't," he replies. 
You pause, searching his face all too intently. "D'you not want me to?"
It's a loaded question, and he knows the response he wants to say is vastly different to the response he should say. But you're staring at him, albeit inebriated, and he has nothing left to do but curse his impeccable memory for reminding him of everything he hasn't had for thirteen months. He misses you. 
"I don't want you to do something you regret," he settles on saying. 
"Well, 'm already here," you mumble, and his hands soften on your cheeks, before he slips them away. 
"Yes. You are," he nods, standing up straighter. "Do you have a way home?"
"Um, Uber, I guess."
"It's too late and you're too drunk for an Uber alone," he disapproves. 
"I took a Taxi here alone—"
"—I'm not letting you go home — alone —from my apartment in your state," he counters immediately. "I don't really care how you got here."
You relent quite easily though, murmuring a quiet, "Okay," that shocks him. 
"Do you want to shower?"
You nod, your feet slipping from the stool and landing on the floor. He's moving back around to you to help the second he watches your hands brace on the edge of the countertop, an arm looping around your waist that makes your stomach swim. 
"I can walk, y'know."
"Uh-huh," he doesn't believe you fully, and you don't have it in you to fight with him as he leads you to an all too familiar bathroom. As he sits you down on his toilet lid, he says, "Stay there. I'll get you some clothes."
"Yes, Doc."
His cheeks puff as he expels a sigh at the nickname, shaking his head as he disappears back into his bedroom. 
By the time he's returned, your eyes are fluttered shut, your head sitting probably uncomfortably against the wall next to his toilet. But your chest is moving evenly enough for him to conclude that you had fallen asleep that quickly, and he didn't have the heart to wake you back up. He'll take your frustration in the morning.
You barely stir as he carries you into his room again. Instead, he swears you curl further into his bedsheets the second he places you down on his mattress. 
"Spence?"
He's barely two footsteps towards his door when you speak again, and his heart shatters. He turns over his shoulder, and though you're speaking, your eyes are barely cracked open. 
"Where're you goin'?"
"The couch," he says, confused by the frown that tugs your lips down. "What?"
"Come back. This is your bed."
"It is," he nods. "But you're in it."
"'m not gonna bite," you say, your hands weakly stretching out towards him.
He takes a few beats to determine whether or not he'd take up your offer. But he is too weak of a man to not give in, and he doesn't know if he'll ever get you in his bed again. So, he sighs, and begrudgingly climbs back into his bed next to you.
"Hey," he turns his head, a question dancing on his tongue. But when he finds you again, you're fast asleep once more. Habitually, as if it hadn't been thirteen months, he brushes the hair that had fallen out of your face, and he smiles.
And, to no one in particular, he murmurs, "I'm glad you Merry Christmas'd your way back into my life."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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hadeelsamir · 2 months ago
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Please help me
https://gofund.me/fdd492ab
✅️My number in the list has been verified by @gazavetters (#267)✅️
Peace be upon you. Support the family of Hadeel, an orphan, in their search for safety and escape from the genocide. I created a fundraising campaign to secure my family's safe travel to Egypt. Hadeel used to live in the city of Khan Yunis with her mother, who was suffering from chronic diseases, and her younger brother. Hadeel is twenty-nine years old. She graduated from university with a degree in public relations and media. She is an ambitious young woman who worked in several jobs serving and building her community. However, the genocide brought conflict and destruction. Hadeel became unemployed and homeless for her family. Hadeel lost everything she worked to build
It is very difficult to say that we have lost everything, it is like a recurring nightmare that we live every day. We have lost our beautiful and peaceful life and our warm and safe home. Our dreams of a bright and promising future have been shattered.
My tragic story with my family began with the beginning of the ground invasion in Khan Younis city when the Israeli army surprised the citizens living in Al-Mawasi, a safe place according to the Israeli army, early in the morning by shooting and shooting at anyone who moved. No matter what they were. My family and I were trapped in our beautiful home for 24 hours until we found a way and sneaked to safety so that they could survive for the first time.
We managed to find a way to escape to Rafah city,
We left all our belongings behind us, we were only carrying some money and important papers, we could not sleep that night. The next morning, we bought a tent trying to make it look like a shelter.
We spent 3 months in Rafah city not knowing what happened to our home that we left behind.
The area where my family and I used to live, the place where our beautiful home is located, I can no longer truly recognize it.
Your generosity and support could make a huge difference in saving our lives. The only way out of Gaza now is through the Rafah crossing, which requires a $5,000 fee.
Every donation, no matter how small, will help secure our safe exit from Rafah to a more stable environment in Egypt. Your kindness will provide us with the opportunity to rebuild our lives and have renewed hope for the future.
I humbly appeal for your compassion and kindness in helping with the urgent evacuation of me and my family. Your contributions will be a lifeline that will enable us to escape the perilous conditions we are currently living in.
Thank you for your compassion and support in this critical time of need.
With gratitude,
Hadeel
We humbly ask that those of you who can contribute do so, even if it is just one dollar. Every cent counts. Please also take the time to share this fundraiser on social media and through word of mouth to reach as many people as possible. This may be a big goal, but we have faith that the community can and will rise to the occasio
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freakassfemme · 6 months ago
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beloved butch abby and her soft femme
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a/n: yeah, this is a self indulgent as fuck drabble <3 this is heavily inspired by my own relationship so sorry if it gets too niche </3 my fiancé and I just have a running joke about how much they are like abby so it kinda veered off that way. I still think its rly cute regardless
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how you meet! <3
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who manages a nice cafe a few streets off of downtown in a big city somewhere on a northern coast. she's stumbling in the front door, grumbling about how the delivery trucks always drop packages out front instead of the back when she sees you.
sure, she's used to tourists, but it's fucking february. hardly anyone is traveling, let alone for anything beyond the major sights, and you're sitting in a booth, sipping on a hot latte with lipstick stains on the mug and clasping your hands like a princess as you look over your scrapbooking supplies. yeah, you're a local.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who doesn't even bother trying to get your number at first. she's too busy with the cafe, with lev, with crippling debt from her attempt at medical school before her dad passed -- at least, that's what she tells herself and her coworkers who catch her ogling you when you show up more and more.
she notices some pins on your tote bag when you come up one day, listening to you chat to the barista and waving them off each time they ask her a ridiculous question like what syrups do we have, playing stupid so she is forced to interact with you.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who just can't resist you when you start showing up more and more, so she goes home and listens to chappell fucking roan because she sees a pin on your bag. she hates it, but one day, after a month or so, she adds it to the morning Spotify shuffle, and just turns and smiles and says "me too" when she hears you telling the barista how much you love my kink is karma.
"oh my gosh, really?!"
yeah, everyone knows that's bullshit.
dating! <3
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who surprises you with full on fucking roses every date night, which are often on Wednesdays, because she loves taking you to karaoke nights. no, she doesn't sing, but she'll hold up your mirror for you to check your makeup before you run on stage, singing something adorable like from the start by Laufey.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is always so delighted when you swing by midday, dropping off a handmade lunch in a cute little metal bento box, even if she's covered in flour. she'll bring you to her office, give you a little somethinggggg sweet to hold you over, make you a coffee and send you on your way.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is so scared to have you meet lev, her fingers are physically shaking when you two are in the same room together for the first time. lev is a little suspicious of you at first, but quickly becomes well-adjusted when you start sending baked goods home with abby for him as well.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who comes over to your apartment in a black tank top and sweats, hair messy whenever (yep! you guessed it!) the sink is clogged, because city plumbing is terrible and she's fixed them enough times at work to be able to save you from a regular bill each month. plus, the way you thank her is always payment enough
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who nearly fucking cries when you make her a homemade Christmas stocking. lev doesn't celebrate, and without her dad, she hasn't found a reason to do anything like that just for herself. so on Christmas morning, when she carefully shakes out a set of matching heart-shaped carabiners, yeah, she does cry a little bit.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who shyly comes out of the bathroom one day holding some chest tape, asking if you’ll help her put it on because “for some reason the right side is halfway on but I put it on backwards on accident so I can’t get the plastic off so—“ (obviously you help her)
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who offers to buy you tennis skirts, athleisure dresses, fucking lululemon or whatever it is that will get you to come to the gym with her, even just to sit on her lap when she does hip thrusts. she loves sending you mirror pics after leg day, and yeah, you of course die every time.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who weaves through crowded downtown like it's nothing with you on her arm and two tote bags of your mail hanging from her arms when you finally get around to sending it out. she insists that she doesn't mind the little canvas bags with their floral prints.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who wears her beat up brown leather jacket like she's trying to run through the fabric. Lets you help her condition the material and put on patches, and even goes so far as to wrap you up a matching red one for your birthday that year.
as for her other clothes, she's constantly wearing little holes in the elbows and knees that you're more than happy to stitch up for her, and she swears her heart flutters every time she catches a glimpse of the woven embroidery thread in a green tee shirt or wool sweater.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who goes feral for the type o negative/out of the fire TikTok trend. she doesn't have her own account, but when you show her the videos of girls in their dainty Mary Janes stepping on to leather or work boots, she agrees without batting an eye, much to your surprise.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who slips a tag with your name on to it next to her other dog tags, keeping it like a secret special token on her necklace.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you do her hair sometimes, even though she's perfectly fine at it herself. she just adores those sweet late nights in her bedroom where you're rubbing some warm-smelling lotion into her back and weaving her hair back into place.
nsfw! <3
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is a god damn sucker for praise and worship, both ways. she feels like you two are the only people in the world when she's on her knees, hands inching under your skirt and up your thighs while you purr sweet things in her ear, and she's telling you all the things she wants to do to you.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who definitely talks you through it, and is constantly astonished by just how into her you are.
"oh, fuck baby -- you're dirty, jesus,"
"she's so needy for me, huh? you gonna let me take care of her, baby?"
"mmpf, thank you, thank you--"
"fuck, i know baby, i know. you can, i know you can. you're taking it so well, let me do it f'you. shit"
-`♡´- beloved butch abby whose hand nearly rips the mattress open the first time you're sat in front of her, leaving little lipstick marks on her strap as you work your mouth around it, making a slobbery and moaning debauched version of your pretty self for her.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you slip a finger between her legs while you suck her strap, lets you push it inside while your mouth pushes the base of her strap against her clit until she's shaking and stuttering and practically face-fucking you.
yeah, she stays strapped up on dates, too.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who has a mean 3 finger combo that she'll pull out absolutely anywhere - in the back of her truck, on the kitchen counter, in the bar bathroom, wherever she sees fit.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who takes mirror selfies while you're riding her, or just in her lap, sucking on her neck or looking shyly back at the mirror. puts her huge ass hand on your ass, squeezing it and saves the photos for her own personal spank bank. the arch of your back drives her crazy.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who melts so easily under your prettily-painted nails, dragging down her abs while you murmur how handsome she is right into her pussy. her legs twitch, and god, she's trying so hard not to fucking crush you (not that you'd mind), but she about loses it when you ask her to sit on your face.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who hoists you on to her shoulders against the inside walls of her office, the door locked shut and your hand clamped over your mouth during her lunch break. covers up any stains on her shirt with her apron, acting like she needs to work up another batch of something while you're prancing out breathless and pink in the cheeks.
-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you play Jesse Jo Stark when you fuck in the backseat of her truck, hands intertwined and leaving palm prints on the steamy windows while you eat each other out in parking lots, murmuring I love you's while the truck rocks back and forth.
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kingkatsuki · 6 months ago
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— twist of fate
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This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.
I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.
Word Count: 1.8k.
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This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’.
I love you— what a big fucking lie.
You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.
Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.
“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.
You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.
“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.
Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.
“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”
“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.
You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.
“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”
“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”
You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.
“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.
“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”
“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”
“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.
“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”
“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”
Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.
“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.
You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”
“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.
You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.
“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”
“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”
“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.
“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.
“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”
Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.
“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”
“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”
“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”
“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”
“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”
It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.
You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.
“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”
His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.
“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.
“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”
“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.
“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”
“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”
“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”
“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”
“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”
You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.
You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.
“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”
“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”
You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.
Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.
“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”
“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.
“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.
“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.
“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.
“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”
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martiniblues · 1 year ago
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spidey boy ; 이민형
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pairing spiderman!mark x female!reader
synopsis mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that you’ve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.
genre established relationship, fighting (if you squint), lots of fluff, slight violence and cat-calling, slightly suggestive, mark calls reader “my girl” and “pretty girl”.
wc 2.9k
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“do you think that spiderman guy is actually as good as everyone says he is?” you ask mark, who lay peacefully in your lap as your fingers ran through his hair.
you two had been hanging out after school, as you usually do, watching random channels while you both indulged in each other's day. however, you had articulated this hangout the night prior.
a few days ago, you had aimlessly been searching through mark’s backpack in hopes of finding your calculus notes, which you had so graciously let him borrow, only to stumble upon a very familiar red and black mask balled up in the bottom.
at first, you thought mark had hit peak fangirl. he was obsessed with the superhero after all, completely drawn to the tv or newspaper whenever spiderman was mentioned, but so was every other human being in your city.
so when you began noticing how mark’s late-night appearances and “fashionably late” activities began lining up with the famous building-swinging superhero, your mind put the pieces together.
you tried to understand his point of view and why he wouldn’t reveal this very key detail about himself. it hurt you, though, feeling as though there was something in you that made him not feel comfortable enough to expose himself to you.
so, you compiled a plan to get the truth out of him organically, or as organically as this could be.
“wha… what do you mean?” your boyfriend’s head quickly snapped up, turning on his palm to face you with a questionable look knitted into his features.
a smile teasingly pulled on your lips, knowing you had hit a sore spot in his ego. how couldn’t he be proud of himself? after all, he was known as the hero of your city.
“i don’t know,” you continued, leaning back against the couch, watching your boyfriend swing from building to building on the screen in front of your bodies. “he just seems too full of himself, like cool you can swing from buildings and hang upside down, but we have police and firefighters for a reason!”
it took everything in you to not break character, slowly watching mark’s face grow red at your painful statements. he just looked at you, eyes blown wide and brows pulled so close together that you were certain he could get stuck like that.
with a small giggle, you reached out, brushing your thumb between the crease in his brows and bringing it down to caress his cheek.
“what’s with the face, baby? don’t tell me you're obsessed with him too.” his face slowly relaxed as your soft hand held his face, but his brain was still scrambling with your previous statements.
how could you find him not absolutely amazing? he could swing from buildings and hang upside down!
“you don’t think he’s cool? not even a little bit?” mark’s eyes followed yours to the screen. spiderman now being shown saving an older woman from getting mugged.
“i think he’s cool, i guess.” you looked back at your boyfriend only to find his eyes already on your face, his previous expression appearing again. “babe, you can’t be serious.” mark leaned back, feeling completely bewildered by your nonchalant attitude towards his heroic duties.
“it’s not that big of a deal."it’s not like you’re spiderman, so why should it matter if i like him or not?” you titled your head away from the screen to watch his eyes grow wide, and you could audibly hear his breath hitch.
“but…” he quickly let out before catching himself, looking at the tv to see his segment disappear. “but what?” you teased, beginning to feel bad for your ministrations.
he looked back at your face, sighing heavily. “nothing, just like the guy a bit," he said before lying back in your lap to hide his face from you.
this was going to be a lot harder than you thought.
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“hey baby~” mark cooed as he stepped into your apartment, takeout bags in hand. you quickly sprung up from your spot at the counter, running to hug your boyfriend after not seeing him for awhile.
after your first attempt to disclose his true identity was unsuccessful, you held off from bringing up the topic for awhile.
but you had finally decided to take a different approach this time.
“i missed you, pretty girl.” the nickname made your cheeks heat up as his cold hands held your face in front of his. he inspected you lovingly, relishing in the fact that he could finally hold you without school being in the way.
“missed you too," you replied before kissing him softly. mark dropped the plastic bag on the counter beside him, pulling you firmly against him. his lips were almost enough to make you forget about your plan.
almost.
“god, i’m hungry.” you pulled away, making him laugh at your cute antics, and he joined you on your couch to eat. as you sat, you pulled off your (mark’s) sweatshirt to reveal the key details of your plan.
mark quickly noticed the black spiderman logo displayed across your chest, at a loss for how quickly your opinion of him changed. “you like?” you asked, flaunting the red baby tee you had bought earlier that day.
“i- i thought you thought spiderman was stupid." he nearly choked on his food, trying not to blush at the image of his girl repping him like this.
“i never said he was stupid, mark. i just thought he was overhyped, but i now understand where all the love is coming from.” you looked down, ogling at your new shirt, sure of its effect on your boyfriend.
“oh…” he tried to fight the grin, trying to cover his lips, but couldn’t contain his relief. “glad you finally came around, baby.” he smiled before shoving his face with more food.
“you’re not jealous?” you asked, beginning to take on step two of your plan. “he is a guy, after all.”
this made mark actually choke on his food. “what? why would i be jealous about that?"
“i mean, your girlfriend wearing a shirt for some muscular superhero who is most definitely sickly hot under that skin tight suit he wears while saving lives." you went on swirling your fork in your food, looking up every so often to see mark’s cheeks darken at the compliments.
he held his head down, but not enough for his flushed ears and cheeks to go unoticed. “why are you so red, baby? i still like you more, you know; spiderman can’t take you away from me.” you reached over and combed your fingers through his hair to feign worry.
“that is, unless he happens to swing by and sweep me up with his insane muscles.” you winked, making your boyfriend turn into a tomato.
“yeah, you wish he would do that.” mark  joked, trying to deflate his growing pride, which you continued to boost.
“what? are you saying i’m not worthy of spiderman’s fantastic biceps picking me up and swinging me through the night sky?” mark looked at you quizzically.
you couldn’t be serious, could you?
mark discarded his food, crawling over to trap you beneath his body. "fantastic, you say... and what are these?” he made reference to his own muscular arms peeking through his fitted white tee.
"marvelous," you replied, sliding your fingers softly over your boyfriend's muscles. how lovely it was that you didn’t have to dream of spiderman’s biceps as they sat right in front of you.
“better than fantastic in my book.” mark smiled before catching your lips in his.
your spiderman shirt was soon discarded in that moment but continued to linger in mark’s head days later.
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“i’m just gonna go grab a few things. i promise i won’t be long.” you stood in your doorway, attempting to run to the store to get a few things before it got too late.
mark hated this.
“why cant i just go get it or go with you?” mark wrapped his arms around you from behind, making it increasingly difficult to slide on your shoes. he kissed you all over your neck and face, held your hand, pulled at your jacket sleeves, and even attempted to block the door entirely to try and get you to stay, but you were as determined as you ever were.
“i’m a grown woman, mark. i can run down the block by myself.” you turned around in his arms, reaching for your keychain next to his head on the wall, hanging by a hook.
“it’s dangerous out there. wouldn’t want my pretty girl getting hurt.” he slouched against the wall, still holding onto your hand as your whole body nearly made it out the door.
“good thing spiderman will be there to save me from any danger.” you teased him before slamming the door in his face, preventing him from getting anymore words out. not that he could form any from your statement anyway.
as you made your way through the isles of the tiny convenience store down the block from your place, you began to notice a dark figure popping into your vision.
a man decked out in all black and wearing a dark baseball cap pulled down just enough to hide his eyes followed your trail through the store.
he just coincidentally needs the same things, plus it’s freezing outside. that’s why he’s covered up so much, you thought. you can't say much about covering up with your giant black puffer jacket nearly swallowing you whole.
as your shopping trip continued, you couldn’t help but notice the figure not picking up a single item they inspected.
how weird, you thought.
“have a nice night!” the sweet cashier bid you goodbye before you quickly made your way out of the store.
as you exited the glass doors, the figure from earlier greeted you outside. your steps increased in speed as you noticed the figure continuing to follow your path.
you: mark could you meet me outside
you: creepy dude won’t stop following me
you: dude answer the phone
you: mark come on this is serious
you huffed, knowing the figure was still following you from a distance and aggravated by mark ignoring your texts.
“what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone at night?” the figure spoke from your side, somehow managing to come up beside you without you noticing.
you stayed silent, pretending to be interested in the cement beneath your feet.
“hey! i’m talking to you!” the voice barked, noticeably irritated by your lack of interest. “i asked you a question, bitch!” a hand grabbed your wrist tightly, stopping you in your tracks.
thinking it was the figure, your body froze seeing spiderman right in front of you. stumbling back, you watched your hero step in and fight off the creepy man, knocking him over before webbing him to the alley wall ahead.
“try and speak to her again, and you’ll get much worse than a few webs on you.” the familiar voice of your boyfriend came out deep and threatening, making your breath hitch. you had never heard him speak like that.
while the bum continued to try and yell through the webs plastered over his mouth, spiderman turned to check on you.
“everything all right? he didn’t touch you or hurt you, babe- i mean, mam?” the fumbling of words made you laugh slightly, knowing the dork under the mask.
“i’m all right, thanks to you, spiderman.” you swooned, so caught up with the fact that your own boyfriend was spiderman and that he had practically beaten and webbed a man to a wall for you.
“what could i ever do to repay you?” you asked, trying not to trip over your own feet at the way the suit hugged mark’s muscle so well. more than any t-shirt ever could.
“just doing my job, as always.” spiderman leaned his body against the wall smoothly, resting his head against his fist. you two stood there in a few seconds of silence, both not knowing what to do.
“you better get headed home; it’s getting late.” he coughed, finally breaking out of his daze.
“no swinging around the city for me?” you asked, pretty disappointed that your boyfriend was about to make you walk home alone. “no can do, web swinging with lovely ladies is a daytime activity only; i wouldn’t want anyone to miss it.” he pulled his body from the wall, shooting up a web to hang from a sign above your heads.
“what a shame. guess you’ll just have to give me a show of the city another day," you replied, watching as mark swung his legs over the sign to hang upside down effortlessly.
definitely trying to impress me, you thought.
“i can see what i can do.” he crossed his arms over his chest before you stepped forward on your tiptoes, placing your hand on his cheek, making him short circuit.
“thanks again, spiderman.” you spoke, leaning into him to place a quick kiss on his mask-covered cheek.
“of-of course. any day, mam,” his voice cracked at your actions, making you laugh as you turned away to walk home.
mark hung in bliss before realizing he was supposed to be at your place, not saving your life in a spidey suit.
you rushed through the door, dropping your bag on the ground and making a beeline to your room. the only place with a window mark could slide through without getting caught.
you swung open your door to reveal a maskless spiderman half way through your bedroom window, eyes wide, body frozen.
you froze in shock, almost surprised that your plan had finally worked. "gotcha," you smiled, leaning against your door frame satisfied.
“uh…” mark scrambled, attempting to put his mask back on as if it would make you forget seeing his face entirely. as he tripped and tumbled around your room, you slowly made you way behind him.
“mark,” you began, attempting to get him to calm down. “baby,” you turned him slowly as he finally got his mask back on. “mark? who’s mark? that your boyfriend or something?” he attempted to deepen his voice to throw you off.
he realized this was unsurprisingly unsuccessful, noticing the smirk that continued to show on your face. “you know him, don’t you, spiderman? he’s the boy who just kicked ass and saved my life less than ten minutes ago.” you said, gently pulling off his mask to reveal your boyfriend’s face.
he stared at you, not knowing how you felt. “look, i can explain this all,” he nervously let out as he looked anywhere but your eyes.
before he could explain, you kissed him softly, wanting to ease his worry and express your gratitude. he saved your life after all, and not just by being spiderman.
“i’m not mad, not at all.” you looked into his eyes, noticing how at ease he seemed to be at the relief of your words.
“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i was so scared you wouldn’t want to be with me or be scared of me,” he ranted, trying to make you see his side in case you had lied and were even the littlest bit mad at him. he hated when you were mad at him more than anything.
“why would i not want to be with you? i love you, mark, so much, it’s crazy.” you pulled his face into your hands in disbelief at his words. “and plus, how could i be scared of such a handsome, strong, crime-fighting superhero who so happens to double as my boyfriend. if anything, people should fear me,” you joked, ripping a laugh from his lips.
“how long have you known?” he asked, pulling you closer by your waist. biting your lip, you looked down, trying to hold back your laugh. “remember when you borrowed my notes for class and forgot to give them back?"
you didn’t even have to finish, seeing the realization wash over his face as the words fell from your lips.
“yeah, maybe putting your suit in your backpack wasn’t the best place.” you both laughed at the situation at hand; mark was completely dumbfounded.
“so that’s why you talked such shit about me and bought that stupid shirt!” he continued to put together the pieces, gripping your waist tighter as he laughed at his own stupidity.
"ding, ding, ding!” you replied, pulling away slightly to take in his whole look, still not being used to see him like this up close. “yeah, definitely need to see you in this more often now."
mark flushed, turning into putty in your presence. your eyes traveled all over the intricate details and meshing of the suit. how it hugged his body and made him look completely unreal.
“do a little spin for me, doll.” you teased, wanting to ease up all the pent-up emotions still hanging in the air. mark giggled at your stupid comment but did as you asked nonetheless, turning slowly for you.
turning completely to the back, not a second went by before mark felt a harsh slap on his skin. “fuck baby! what was that for?” he whined, reaching down to rub the irritated spot.
"sorry, i couldn’t help myself when you have an ass like that, mark lee.” you smiled at his pained expression, putting your arms back to lean against your vanity, still ogling at your boyfriend’s physique.
“guess i really do need to wear this more around you.” he placed his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.
“maybe the story time can wait till later.” you breathed before his lips pressed themselves to yours.
“i love you so much, my girl."
“i love you too, spidey boy.”
now you had mark completely to yourself, spiderman and all with no secrets left to hide.
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© martiniblues | do not copy or translate my work!
note | more spider!mark WHAT CAN I SAYYY WHAT CAN I SAYYY. he’s literally my fav mark to write ever like pleaseee get him as the korean peter parker asap!!! anyways, hope you loved this and my request box is always open <333
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swordsandholly · 8 months ago
Text
Fancy
Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy
Previous | Next | Ao3
NSFW | MDNI
Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever
A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.
The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.
After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.
It is what it is. Life goes on.
The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.
TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED
DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER
ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR
UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE
With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.
Nothing is new under the constant night.
Life goes on.
You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.
“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.
You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“
“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.
“I- what?”
“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.
The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.
“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.
It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“
“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”
You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.
“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.
“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”
“But I don’t-“
“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”
Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.
It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.
It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.
They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.
“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.
“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”
“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.
“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”
“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.
“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”
“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”
“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.
“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.
“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.
“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”
“Och, ye wound me, lass.”
You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.
John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.
Top dog gets the chew toy.
“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.
“Suits not your style?”
“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”
You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.
“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.
“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”
Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.
“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.
To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”
Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.
“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.
You scoff. “Me?”
“You’re a smart girl.”
“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”
John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.
“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”
“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?
Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.
Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” John demands.
“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”
There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.
“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”
“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.
John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.
“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”
“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.
John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.
You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.
~~~
It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.
Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?
“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.
“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.
You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”
“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”
“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.
“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“
Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”
You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.
That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.
Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”
“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.
Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”
It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”
The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.
A promise.
It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.
“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.
“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.
“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”
“You just got here.” You murmur.
“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.
You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.
“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?
You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.
“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.
They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.
Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.
“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”
His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.
Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.
Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.
You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.
Cheeky bastard.
The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.
You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.
“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.
The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.
Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”
You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”
“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.
You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”
They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…
“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.
“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.
The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.
You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.
“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.
“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.
“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.
“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.
Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?
You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”
Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”
The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.
Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.
It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.
He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.
You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.
Fucking Christ.
Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.
An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.
“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.
As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.
“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.
You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.
“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.
“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”
You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.
Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”
Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”
You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.
“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.
Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.
All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”
That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.
“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.
He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.
“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.
Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”
He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.
“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”
All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.
“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”
The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.
“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.
Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.
Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”
“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.
“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.
“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.
“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.
It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.
You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”
Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.
You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.
“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”
It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.
“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”
You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“
“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.
You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.
Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.
“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.
“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.
“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?
“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.
“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.
“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“
“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.
You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.
So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.
There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…
You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.
You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.
That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.
“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.
“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“
“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”
“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.
“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.
You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.
“Y-you don’t have to-“
“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.
“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.
“Johnny behave himself?”
“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.
Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.
“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.
“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”
“You do.”
You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.
“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.
Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”
“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”
Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.
“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.
Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.
“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.
Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”
You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.
“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.
Oh.
Okay.
You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.
These men are going to be the death of you.
A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.
Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡
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holylulusworld · 12 days ago
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How to cure a grump (1)
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Summary: You're losing your job on Christmas.
Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss
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“Santa Claus is coming to town,” you sing along to the song blaring from your phone. You’re, as so often, the last one at the office.
Before the holidays, most of your colleagues try to get out of the office as early as possible. They have better plans than to work like busy ants two days before Christmas.
Sadly, you didn’t get to leave on the clock. Your boss demanded your attention. You couldn’t join your colleagues at the little Christmas party you organized for weeks.
Now they will all exchange the Secret Santa gifts you got for most of them, drink eggnog, and sing awful Christmas songs while you are stuck here with your grumpy boss.
“Miss Y/L/N, I need the numbers now." Mr. Barnes doesn’t even walk toward your desk. He simply barks orders your way.
You heave out a sigh and glance at the stack of papers on your desk. Before you get up to hand Mr. Barnes the numbers he wanted you to finish before the holidays, you save your work.
Grabbing the papers, you silently pray that Mr. Barnes won’t come up with more tasks. It’s long past your work time, and you’re tired and cranky. You’ll need a good night’s sleep and at least a day off before driving home for Christmas.
“Miss Y/L/N,” he barks as you are already halfway toward his office. Mr. Barnes huffs as you stumble over your own feet. “You know, I had better things to do than wait for the numbers. I have been waiting for hours. I think you’re the worst person working here.”
For a second, you’re stunned. You feel like Mr. Barnes slapped you across your face.
“Maybe if you asked the person responsible for the mistake to help you with the numbers, you'd like the outcome better. I worked overtime only to get yelled at!” You gasp. The words just flew out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw with emotions.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t work here any more then!” He bites back. It wasn’t a surprise to you that Mr. Barnes lost his temper. He’s always been a little hot-headed and grumpy. Mr. Barnes fired people here and there over the years. You just didn’t think you’d be one of them one day.
“You’re firing me after I fixed a mistake someone else made?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t see anyone else standing in line to work through the numbers. I worked overtime before the holidays to do you a favor.”
“That’s your job,” he growls and points at the door. “Or was. I want you to pack your things and don’t come back.”
“Fine,” you huff and turn on your heels, regretting your mishap instantly. You’d apologize and even fall to your knees to get your job back. Sadly, Mr. Barnes is a strict man. He doesn’t accept mistakes or insubordination. Whatever you’d do or say, there was no way he’d give you your job back.
So, you got a box from the storage room, emptied your desk, grabbed your belongings, and left the building for the last time in your life. To hell with this job and your boss.
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“Mom, stop asking questions,” you plead as your mother wouldn’t stop asking questions about your job.
“It’s all so exciting. Living in the big city, having friends you meet up at bars like Carrie in Sex and the City, and your job. It sounds wonderful!”
“Mom, I barely made any friends,” you sigh, and try to rub the embarrassment off your face. “I’d call them work friends or acquaintances.”
“I bet they are all too happy to have you around,” she coos and cups your face. “I know my Munchkin conquered the big city in no time.”
“Mom, I—” you sniffle and look away, ashamed. It never gets easy to lie to your mother. “I have to tell you something about the job.”
“What is it, Munchkin?” she asks, looking at you, worry in her eyes. She coos to you as you begin to cry. Starting anew after your long-term boyfriend and fiancé broke things up was the dream you wanted to fulfill. Now, you failed again.
“I got fired yesterday,” you sniff. “I worked overtime, and my boss yelled at me. I fixed someone else’s mistake, and he still yelled at me. I lost it and…” You shake your head and refuse to look at your mother.
“Y/N, that’s not the end of the world.” She wraps you in a warm embrace. The kind of embrace only a mother can give you. You feel warm and safe, remembering all the times she calmed you in times of need. “You’ll find a new job, a better one. If he fired you, that man doesn’t know how to value you.”
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“The fuck no!” Bucky flings a stack of papers across the room. He tried to access your account, only to realize he never asked you to reset your password. Now he’s seething because most of your work, except the files you shared with colleagues and him, is password protected. “She forgot to reset the fucking password!”
“Well, you told her to pack her things and leave, Buck. What did you expect to happen?” Steve huffs. He had to leave his cozy home and wife to help Bucky with some unimportant paperwork. “We've got time to fix this until after the holidays.”
“Unimportant to you,” Bucky bites back. “I want this finished before the year ends.”
“Buck,” Steve snorts. “If you need her password, call her.” The blonde shrugs before turning to leave. “I know you are not the best at communicating, but I believe in you. You can handle a phone call with a woman you just fired.”
“I tried more than once,” Bucky snaps at his best friend and business partner. “She won’t answer. The last time I called, she blocked my number.”
“Yeah, because you fired her!” Steve replies, laughing. “I wouldn’t answer any call from an asshole firing me two days before Christmas, either.”
Bucky opens his mouth to reply. He huffs as his friend already walks toward the door.
“What shall I do now? I need the password!”
“If you cannot reach her, go to her home and ask for the password. I will go home now. Please don’t call me during Christmas. Natasha will rip me a new one if I miss Christmas.”
“She’s not home. I was there. Her neighbors told me that Y/N will spend Christmas at her parents’ house. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Buck,” Steve laughs. “You can fly to her hometown and ask her for the password. While on your way back, you can celebrate with a pretty stewardess in first class as every Christmas…”
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