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sebsbarnes · 1 year ago

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co-workers || tangerine

tangerine x female reader (assassin)

summary: "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."

warnings: language, violence, fighting, injuries, blood, weapons

word count: 3.4k ; angst, fluff

tangerine masterlist

rocking back and forth on your heels you patiently wait for the bullet train to zip into the shinagawa station. the platform was moderately busy, people dressed for various occasions. some in sophisticated work uniforms, kids bopping along with their school bags, and some dressed for a night out. you, however, were not.

sporting a black jacket, long sleeve turtleneck, leggings, sneakers, and a black bag you could've faded into the growing dark sky but here you are illuminated by the neon lights of the platform begrudgingly watching the bullet train's head lights fly past as it rolled into the station.

you were ordered to be here by your employer at the request of the white death. something about his son and a briefcase of money that needed some extra eyes watching over. apparently, the white death had some gut intuition about the two unnamed men he had hired for the job and wanted your skills onboard. your employer gave you very little detail about what to expect, no description of the briefcase, a grainy photo sent via email of the white death's son who had horrid face tattoos in your personal opinion, and when asked about the men already tasked to the mission your employer replied, 'eh two guys both kind of weird' and left it at that.

you boarded the train and stood near the doors, tight lipped smiling at those who walked by, waiting for the entryway to be clear. kneeling you pulled a small revolver out of a false bottom in the bag and slipped it into an inside pocket of your jacket, next pulling extra rounds and stuffing them into the other available pocket. you fumbled with a small piece of crumbled paper telling you to go to car three and a seat number that the son should be at.

quietly making your way to car three you re-patted your now stuffed pockets, adjusting your jacket and hair to relieve any sort of budding nerves. that is until you noticed the two kind of weird guys your employer told you about.

"well, can spot that fitted suit from a fuckin' city away" the two men stood in front of you who were deep in conversation snapped their necks towards you.

"well darling, and i'd spot that shit box dyed hair from the other side of the fuckin' earth" you couldn't help your arm raising to touch your long, and well dyed hair, at tangerine's rebuttal.

you tried to hide the laugh that threatened to break through as the three of you stood quiet for a few seconds following his comment. lemon broke first pushing past his brother to embrace you in a hug, "haven't see you in a minute, was beginning to get worried."

the three of you knew each other quite well, hell, the three of you lived together for a while. you had been under tangerine and lemon's employer for a long time but shit happens and it was best you found a new employer. lemon was more talkative and affectionate of the two, constantly talking your ear off and giving you hugs whenever he saw you, strictly friends though. tangerine, well, not affectionate and not talkative. it took a while for tangerine to mutter more than five words to you for the longest time. being outright friendly just isn't his nature and you can't fault him for that. the twins cared about you deeply, you knew lemon did within a week. tangerine took more time. it wasn't at the flip of a switch, it was gradual, perhaps may be even more natural.

it was a culmination of things that made you realize the rough man cared and appreciated you. like how after a job the three of you would go eat, you would jokingly (but also quite seriously) say how you were still starving. tangerine would slip you some of his food, 'not that hungry' he'd shrug. or how on missions he unconsciously used himself as a shield for your protection. or when he would come back from being out, holding a plastic bag in hand. 'saw these figured you might need 'em' plopping the bag in front of your seated position at the kitchen table and continued walking before you could comment on the new clothes that replaced the ones recently destroyed on a job.

or how days before you left the previous employer, you, tangerine, lemon, and an additional guy were assigned to a job that did not go so smoothly. it really was no one's fault, no one could've predicted how many men were hiding in the warehouse. each of you sported numerous injuries and lost many weapons but still completed the job. you and the other assassin were alone sitting on the floor when he suddenly started berating you. saying how shit you were as an assassin, spewing hatred and profanities amongst other vile things. you had no energy to fight back, 'maybe you're right' is all you could muster before getting up and searching for a secluded place to sleep for the night. you had awoken from your sleep hours later to the sound of a gunshot, wandering until you found someone.

'tangerine, what was that? i heard a gunshot' you asked the man who was promptly walking away from scaffolding towers.

he looked at you quizzically wiping his hands on his trousers, 'i think you might have been dreaming darlin'' all you could do was rub your head in confusion, 'let's get you back to bed, love.' the next morning only three of you returned from the mission.

"i've missed you, lemon," you smiled pulling away, holding his shoulders to look at him.

you and tangerine exchanged small nods, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips. you turned towards the figure seated beside the men stepping to stand in front of who you assume to be the white death's son. to say something seemed off was an understatement. you gently grabbed the ends of his open jacket bobbing his head back.

"what the fuck?!" you jerked back dropping your grip as his body slumped forward. an older woman a few seats up shushed you.

"what the fuck?!" you whispered harshly at the twins, bug-eyed gesturing rapidly at the dead body in front of you.

"ask fuckin' percy over here," tangerine pointed to lemon.

"i'm not percy?! okay yeah i lost the case but i didn't kill the kid."

"well lemon, if you didn't have the brilliant fucking idea to stash the case, we would've been sat our squeaky fuckin' asses down in the seat not havin' to get up. young. sweet. not all there." tangerine hissed back, poking at lemon's forehead to emphasize.

mildly entertained by the twins infamous banter you sat down watching the two go back and forth before tangerine swiveled towards you both hands flat, palms up, pointing at you, "and no disrespect love, but why the hell are you here?"

"to babysit essentially. i'm here to make sure you two do your job and by the looks of it you done fucked that up. what an honor it will be to be ripped limb by limb by the white death with you idiots."

the three of you sat deliberating what the hell to do next and tried figuring out who else is on this train taking interest in the briefcase and the son. tangerine cleaned up the boy's face with his handkerchief and adorned his face with momonga glasses to hide the fact that he's well...dead.

the twins decided it would be effective splitting up and checking the train cars for the briefcase.

"ill stay here," you spoke as the two men grabbed their things to investigate the train.

"what?" tangerine asked eyebrows knotting together.

"i'll stay here. i'll see if anyone comes back for him," gesturing towards the limp body, "besides, my mission is a bit different. i'm not supposed to be seeking danger. if it comes my way then i can step in."

tangerine smooth out his moustache inhaling deeply seeming to oppose you being here by yourself.

"okay well, right then." lemon nodded stalking off down the train.

tangerine hesitated looking down at you in the seat.

"i'll be okay."

that is until ten minutes later a man sat across from you, "hi. there's a gun under this table."

"shhh," you hissed, "this is the quiet car babes."

the man in the hat and glasses took a moment to look over your shoulder at the sign, you took this opportunity to grab his hand, that held no gun, underneath the table yanking his body forward, table smashing into his shoulder.

"who the hell are you." you questioned, still holding onto his hand.

"ladybug. johannesburg, remember? your buddy shot me after you baited me to the parking garage?"

"so you're after the twins?" you asked ignoring what he said.

"the twins have a briefcase i need. i'm really not looking for trouble here miss, i just want to get the hell off this train and go meditate." he sighed taking his free hand through his longer hair.

"so you took the damn briefcase." you released his hand and brought your foot up to kick him in the groin. while he was hunched over in pain you stood up launching towards him to put him in a headlock, "where's the case."

"look lady," he sputtered, "i really don't want to hurt you."

ladybug punched your forearms to loosen your grip and when you didn't budge, he turned his head to bite your wrist.

"what the fuck!" you yelped springing back. he took this moment to sweep your legs out from underneath you. you hit the floor with a loud thud, the ache in your shoulder radiating down your arm. he leaned over your body giving you a weak smile and in return you kicked him in the face, blood instantly pouring out of his nose.

"shit balls!" he exclaimed. you clamored to your feet and started running throughout the bullet train. ladybug's steps got closer and closer and that's when you felt a burning hot sensation on the back of your shoulder. your movement immediately stopped, groaning as you reached for the knife in your back pulling it out.

"prick." you hissed turning around to face the man. your arm swiped in front of his face, the blade making a whooshing noise in the air. you managed to clip the side of his cheek.

thankfully the car the two of you were now fighting in was not occupied. he gripped your arm throwing you against the wall and stalked towards you. you stashed the blade in your pocket, shrugging your jacket to the ground, opting to fight him with your fists. you dodged the first hit and returned him a hit in the jaw. he staggered and taking advantage of his lower stance punched you in the stomach.

"i don't like hurting women." ladybug exasperated as the two of you continued fighting, punches being thrown, skin being split, bodies flying across the car.

"seems like you're in the wrong line of work, dumbass," you gripped the back of his head slamming his face into the top of one of the seats. the crack you heard made you wince. ladybug's forehead was split, blood running down his face into his eye.

it was obvious his physical state was weakening. he swallowed deeply, eyes flickering to a spot beyond you. before you realized what was happening, ladybug was running towards your jacket where the knife was. he managed to grab it and came barreling towards you. once again the battle was back on. the knife dancing between you two as its ownership changed frequently. you and ladybug were a panting mess with new cuts decorating your bodies. this old piece of shit wouldn't let up. you were becoming exhausted and you needed this to end somehow. the two of you were both on the floor, the blade in your hand. you knew you didn't have enough stamina for another round of fighting, the cuts scattering your body were aching, the large stab wound to your shoulder was now numb. instead, you sliced the closest things to you that would cause the most damage.

his achilles.

ladybug screamed out in pain, shaking hands wrapping themselves around his ankles in some attempt to soothe the sheering pain. you stood, looking over the man, the blood from the knife dripping onto your shoe. you stepped around his cradled body, making your way up the train. tangerine hasn't come past yet meaning he is still ahead. the door swished open but you'd only make it one step in before crumbling to the ground.

immediately you started hyperventilating from the intense pain that seemed to hit every nerve in your body. blinking rapidly as you scooted yourself against the wall. then you felt it. a warm sensation running down your skin, your clothes feeling wet. blood. your body was shaking, open lips huffed out puffs of breath. slowly and carefully, you looked back at ladybug.

your gun in his hands.

he must have grabbed it when he retrieved the knife in your abandoned jacket. fucking stupid.

ahead in the train tangerine heard a faint noise, but nonetheless he knew it was a gunshot. he slicked back his hair and removed his gun from his waistband. he carefully entered each train car, observing anything out of the ordinary. the door in front of him opened and his step faltered when he saw a black sneaker, and then a leg, and then the body as his eyes raked up the slumped figure.

he dropped to his knees, gun now on the floor, "hey tan," you croaked.

"bloody hell," he sighed, his eyes darting across your entire body.

"stop checking me out i don't look my best," you tried joking. tangerine didn't seem amused as he noticed your torn clothes, bloody face, your hair matted with blood.

"that old bag of bones can really fight. but he took a cheap shot when my back was to him," you finally answered. you lifted the hem of your shirt to show tangerine the bullet hole in your lower stomach above your hip.

"jesus," he muttered swallowing thickly. he seemed stunned to see you in this condition. he also seemed lost on what to do. his eyes wouldn't stop looking you over, his hands unconsciously went to your face brushing your hair out of your eyes.

"tangerine stop fucking staring at her we need to help her," lemon had found the two of you. his voice booming causing tangerine to snap out of his daze.

lemon pushed him to the side, immediately coming to your aid. he worked with what he could find. your shallow cuts weren't important. the wound to your shoulder would need stitches later on. the entrance and exit wound of the bullet was causing the biggest issue as you had lost a decent amount of blood from it. lemon continued to do his best as you sat there eyelids half open.

tangerine was silent, more silent than ever before, as if he were stuck in a trance. you slowly moved your fingers towards his hand that was resting on the floor. two of your fingers wrapped around his pinky jerking him out of his trance. this somehow sparked something in him as he shot up from the floor, grabbing his gun making sure it was loaded and set off on a mission you could only assume to be to find ladybug.

your lips pulled down in a frown as he left. you wanted him here. his presence, his touch, his whatever. any semblance of that cocky man you wanted next to you for comfort. you knew you were going to be okay, you were weak right now but the thought of him beside you somehow made you believe you would feel stronger.

lemon let out a soft chuckle as he finished securing cloth to your wound, "if it took you getting shot for you two to finally, maybe, realize you like each other i would've used you as target practice a long time ago."

you slapped his arm, "fuck off."

lemon and you agreed you need to rest, he helped you to sit in an empty seat, propping you against the window.

"alright, now, if anything serious happens i will text you alright. in the meantime, sit here and wait till we come get you, you hear me?" lemon demanded.

sometime had passed and you noticed less and less people on the platforms boarding the train. it was too quiet. your stomach was telling you something was off. you winced in pain as you gripped the armrest to stand up. a bit wobbly but you managed to put one foot in front of the other. as you continued you heard voices close by. the doors to one of the cars was open by bags tripping the sensors. you saw a young girl in pink standing looking scared and him. the greasy haired prick who shot you. he still had your gun in his hand pointed at someone.

tangerine.

"fuck." thankfully you held onto the knife and before he could notice you moving towards their train car you brought your arm over your head, swinging forward, releasing the knife. it lodged itself below ladybug's collarbone. he yelped out in pain stumbling a bit and that's when his finger hit the trigger.

"you bastard," tangerine hissed as the bullet hit his leg.

you took this opportunity while the men were distracted and ran towards ladybug. you propelled yourself onto him, spinning and wrapping your legs around his neck, you removed the blade from his chest and stuck it in the base of his neck.

"you don't touch him," you spit at the man as he crumbled to the ground.

the girl was long gone. now facing tangerine you noticed all the bruises and blood on him, drenched in sweat. his curly hair now laying across his forehead. his jacket long gone leaving him in a white button down that was criminally low on his chest and a vest. you couldn't help but check him out.

he started to say your name but you cut him off, hugging him tightly around his neck, knocking the wind out of him. he hesitated a moment before firming wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your hair. after a few minutes he pulled back, sliding his hands to your waist to look at you. you held onto tangerine's elbows as his eyes wandered your face.

"darlin'," he started, "i'm- i'm sorry i didn't do anything when i found ya."

you chuckled through your nose, "tan. i'm fine."

"you're injured n' i didn't do anything except fuckin' look at you." he shook his head in disgust.

"tangerine," you said firmly placing your hands on his chest, "stop. i am fine. i am okay. we all react differently to seeing our friends hurt."

"friends, " he half laughed, "you realize i don't see you as a friend."

you paused, hands loosening their grip on his arms. god, you were dumb to think you were even friends. you're coworkers, hell at this point maybe even acquaintances, its been five months since you lived with them. all you could mutter was a shaky 'oh.'

tangerine laughed, "you know love, you can really be dense sometimes."

your mouth formed an 'o' trying to figure out what to say next, "dense?"

"love, i've wanted you the moment you almost sniped my head off in vienna." tangerine chuckled, moving hair out of your face. you couldn't look at him instead you toyed with his open shirt, fingers brushing against his hot skin.

"i guess i am kinda dumb right? should've put the pieces together when you killed anyone who was mean to me." you smiled.

he leaned down gently placing a kiss on your lips. you immediately kissed back, tasting the metallic flavor of the blood that was on his lower lip. your nails ran across his scalp sending a shiver down his spine. tangerine gripped your lower back harder, minding the wound, to bring you in as close as physically possible.

tangerine pulled away from the kiss, bringing his mouth to your ear, "by the way darlin', you spinning around on his neck and what you said was really hot."

"then i suggest we get the fuck off this train soon and i'll show you the move personally."

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phant0mth1ef · 5 months ago

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bakugou x blunt business course reader hcs / let me know if you guys want little drabbles of this!!

- usually business course students wanted to create their own companies, but there were a select few like you and some others that agreed to take on the challenge of trying to market heroes as approachable and attractive!

- he’s known your name since first year due to your placement in the sports’ festival, honestly with your quirk he was surprised you didn’t take the hero track. anyways his nickname for you was “wasted potential business course extra.”

- the first time he actually talked to you was in second year when the teachers had told the hero course students to get more invested with those in the business course, stating that one day they’d be in charge of each and every career.

- was a pain in the ass when he first met you, like he literally sucked and you dreaded every meeting.

“hello… bakugou?” you said skimming down the list of potential heroes you were supposed to meet with.

“yeah, what?” you knew getting people to like him was going to be even harder than getting people to like another client of yours, monoma.

“don’t take that tone with me, i’m basically launching your career.” you typed away on your laptop as the boy sulked in a chair, listening to everything you said.

“as i was saying, marketing yourself in a way similar to best jeanist can have either a good outcome, they’ll approve of you. or a bad outcome, they’ll call you a copycat.”

“tch.” so he ignored your advice and launched his career in a way similar to the pro hero’s and ended up getting insane backlash to the point where you had to step in and try to completely rebrand him.

eventually you got people to start referring to him as the blast hero.

“people are calling me blasty boy.”

“wow. that’s really unfortunate for you! anyways, what’s your height? this company wants to interview you for their tall men friendly jeans.”

- hated meeting with you because of how blunt and honest you were, but also grew to like you because whenever you complimented him, he knew you were genuine.

- would try to blow off meetings just for you to find him and drag him back to the business course meeting rooms, your quirk was something similar to blackwhip so he couldn’t ever really get out of your hold.

- once he realized how popular he was quickly getting thanks to you, he started to actually value the time you’d been putting into making him an admirable hero, but he couldn’t say the same for monoma who, no matter what you did, could not be saved in the publicity department.

- would never thank you, at least not directly.

“i guess this is where we part ways.” you told him at your last meeting before graduation.

“… i guess so. 🧍🏻 thanksorwhatever.” he spoke fast, as if he’d run out of words before leaving.

- even though he said he hated you on countless occasions, he couldn’t deny that he’d begun to miss you when you weren’t around. going so far as to find your contact and call you up once he started his own agency.

“you want me so bad.” you said as you walked in, your briefcase in hand as you shoved the boy to the side, headed up to your new office.

“no i don’t! just need help. s’all!” he was so easy to piss off it was so funny.

- you made him take modeling gigs when his approval ratings were low.

- one time you both went to grab dinner and people assumed you were on a date and you guys just never corrected them and continued to do stuff like that.

- eventually you fell into a routine, and although he never explicitly asked you out, you’d moved into his apartment, did couple things like kiss and stuff, and were always around each other.

- even he thought you were dating until you got interviewed once.

“a boyfriend?… no.” you were so oblivious it was crazy, he had to tell you afterwards that he thought you were his girlfriend.

“WE’RE DATING?” you were completely shocked and he just stood like like a statue.

“YOU DIDN’T KNOW?!”

#mha #myheroacademia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki

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sadesluvr · 7 months ago

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Turbulence

You join the mile-high club with a mysterious English gentleman.

A/N: First BT fic! Been obsessed with this movie, and just had to make something with one of our favourite assassins. I had to do a weird amount of research on flying for this... It won’t be my last so follow for more! :)

Set pre movie.

Word count: 2.5K

Tags: SMUT / Porn with little plot / Minor spoilers for references in Bullet Train (2022) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Hookups / Mentions of birth control / Quickies / Canon-typical language / Canon-typical banter / Minors + Ageless blogs DNI

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight 4B7 to Tokyo. We are currently second in line for take-off and are expected to be in the air in approximately five minutes time. At this time, we ask you to please fasten your seatbelts and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. I’m Goldie, and thank you for choosing our airline. Enjoy your flight!”

Hanging the speaker up, you smoothed out your skirt as you fixed yourself to take the final walk before take-off. ‘Goldie’ wasn’t your real name of course, but a nickname given to you by a sleazy boss. You would’ve hated it, but you found that it greatly helped with creepy passengers who were searching for a place in the coveted ‘mile high club’, or those who simply flew with the intention of sleeping with flight attendants across the world. On the contrary, it was always cute when toddlers cooed your name from across the plane, calling for you as if you’d known them their entire life.

As you pushed past the curtain to the business class, your eyes fell on a pair of men; one dark-skinned with curly dyed hair, the other with long, slicked back hair and a moustache. They wouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary had the moustached man not been holding a phone to his ear. Great. There was always at least one person who never listened to the announcements, but there was something about those who rode in first or business class that held a different kind of entitlement entirely.

Swallowing, you put on your best customer service and sauntered over to them. The dark-skinned man noticed you first, raising his brows before nudging the one next to him, who seemed deep into an important, but strained, conversation.

“...Yeah, yeah. We get the kid and the briefcase, then the train to Kyoto...Yes, we know who we’re dealing with, I forwarded Lemon the briefing. Right, can we go now? Take-offs in two minutes --”

“Excuse me,” you cut in. “You’re going to need to hang that up...”

The man did a double take, holding his phone away from his ear as he glanced up at you. If it wasn’t his old English accent that captivated you, it was his eyes, a striking blue with hints of grey that seemed to stare directly into your soul.

“I’m going now.” He said snarkily to the person on the phone before hanging up, placing the object into the pocket of his navy-blue suit before staring up at you with a charming, but cheeky smile.

“My apologies darlin’,” he said, his voice as smooth as butter. “Work won’t give us a break.”

“Don’t I know it?” you replied, shifting your weight as you prepared to move on. “Thank you, sir. Enjoy your flight...” you said before looking down at his hands; strong and adorned with gold rings.

“...Nice watch.” You finished with a knowing smile. Given the parts of the broken conversation you’d heard, and the elaborate way they were dressed, you figured that they were at least some kind of secret service members - not that it was any of your business, of course. Still, there was something particularly arousing about the blue-eyed man in the three-piece navy suit with the nice watch, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you broke your ‘no-sex-on-the-job’ rule, just this once. If he wasn’t busy with mission stuff, of course.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He replied, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he smiled, watching you as you walked off, admiring the questionably short length of your skirt in the process. Sitting back in his seat, he chuckled to himself before turning to see his brother Lemon hastily swiping through the movie selection on the screens.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Tryin’ to see if they’ve got Thomas...” Lemon said matter-of-factly. “It’s alright though. I always come prepared.” he finished, tapping his laptop pointedly. Tangerine frowned, shaking his head as he sat back in his seat, side eyeing you as you made your way to your jumpseat in the corner.

It was going to be a long journey, but at least he had a nice view.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

As soon as it had been safe to take seatbelts off, you’d wasted no time in making your way back down to the business area. The best part about the job was that you were able to walk about, getting a good glimpse at the passengers you thought were attractive – all under the guise of providing good customer service. The man with watch was reading a book, whilst the other seemed engrossed with whatever was on the screen, with his fingers covering his face in a concerned manner. They seemed like polar opposites, yet seemed to work so well together, something that made your job a lot easier when it came to seating passengers. If only everyone was like them.

If it hadn’t been obvious, you were rather interested in the blue-eyed gentleman in particular. Whilst he hadn’t given you definite signs he was interested, you fixed your make up in your compact mirror regardless, and opened a button on your blouse so it was just a little lower than industry guidelines. It never hurt to try, and it certainly wasn’t as if you were going to see him again.

Smiling, you guided a cart down the narrow aisles, stopping at the pair of men.

“Refreshments?”

The dark-skinned man, ‘Lemon’, as he had been referred to, answered first, eagerly pausing his screen to speak to you.

“I’d love somethin’, love,” he said, holding the same accent as his partner. “D’ya have anything fizzy?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “We have Coke – regular, Diet and Zero, Dr Pepper, Sprite, some SanPellegrino --”

“I’ll have a Coke, love. Make it Diet...” he said, and you nodded, quickly finding the box for the right can. “It’s a shame ya don’t do any bubble milk tea up here...I got a real craving for one...”

You laughed as you handed him the can. “Luckily for you Tokyo is full of great places to get one. You probably could even find one in their vending machines...Don’t get those in the West, do you?”

“Certainly not in London,” he chuckled, opening the can and taking a swig before pursing his lips and tapping a finger on his chin. “Say, I don’t suppose you could settle a little argument for me, could you?” “Oh here we go...” the other man interjected, drawing himself from his book to huff and look between the two of you. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Lemon rolled his eyes.

“That SanPellegrino of yours...Which flavour do you sell the most?”

You bit your lip.

“Depends...It’s usually lemon because people think it might taste like lemonade. The orange one never goes to waste, though...”

Lemon gave the other man a pointed look, and he scoffed before looking at you.

“Not to completely waste your time, love, but if you had to choose between a lemon or a tangerine...” he didn’t finish, probably because it would’ve pained him to, and moved his hands as if he were balancing weights on scales.

You stared blankly between the two men, confused but utterly endeared.

“Tangerines are good on their own, but lemons are far more versatile...” “See?” Lemon said triumphantly, celebrating with himself before shaking your hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, darlin’.” He grinned before restarting his movie, moving on as if nothing had happened. You chuckled to yourself, conscious of the hundred other guests that needed you, but looked back to lock eyes with the other man, ready to ask him the same question. He wore a knowing smirk on his face, the curve of his pink lips still evident under his thick moustache and tutted chidingly.

“Really thought you’d be on my side there, sweetheart,” he sighed. “Suppose you can’t trust everyone, can you?”

“I’m sorry,” you pouted. “You must give it to him though. Lemons are pretty good.”

“Darlin’ I don’t have a problem with the message, but the messenger,” he said, nodding to the man next to him. “He’s a grown arse lad watching Thomas, that one.”

You chuckled, glimpsing at the screen to see that it was indeed correct. Shaking your head, you scanned the crafted features of his face before raising a brow.

“So, what’s your poison?”

“A gorgeous lady pushing a cart, it seems.”

“Smooth,” you hummed, unable to ignore the way a dangerous heat shot through your stomach and down to your core, making your legs feel like jelly. He’d hardly done anything, and yet you were under his spell. “What would you like to drink?”

“Nothin’ at the moment, love,” he grinned. “I’m a bit peckish, if anythin’...”

Sighing, you quickly checked the man out again, this time eyeing his body. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, thick legs...The total package.

“Hurry, up! I’m thirsty!” Someone from across the aisles said. The man was about to argue, but you halted him, nodding in the direction where the voice came from.

“I tell you what,” you said softly, lowering your voice as you stared into his eyes, your composure so controlled that it would’ve been impossible to tell that your heart was pounding in your chest as you spoke. “-- Us staff have our own snacks. If you meet me by the toilets in fifteen, I can get you some...”

“Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart.” The man grinned, not-so subtly uncrossing his legs and giving a cheeky wink before you headed off down the aisle. Gripping onto the handle of the cart, you tried your hardest to walk straight, excitement boiling in your loins as you counted down those fifteen crucial minutes with every strained smile at a customer.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

He was there when you arrived.

“Took ya’ long enough -” was all he said before cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a passionate kiss, pressing your body against the wall of the bathroom. It was by far the most glamorous place to have sex, but there was something about the sleaziness of it all (with such a put-together man, nonetheless) that made it that more enticing. His scent was an ode to his masculinity; aromatic and woody, and it consumed you as he kissed down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as his large hands caressed the sides of your body. You moaned, writhing your front against his pelvis, desperate to feel the outline of his erection against your own. Admittedly, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with your hands, settling to drape them around his neck in fear of messing up his hair. He seemed like a man who took pride in his appearance, and he certainly wasn’t going to be able to fix it up in an airplane bathroom.

“Feel me, darling. I don’t bite...” he whispered, his hands now sliding between your thighs as he fought to push your panties to the side. You took this as a hint, and you combed your fingers through his roots with one hand, whilst the other fumbled to undo the button on his trousers, difficult to do with his considerable bulge. You let out a broken gasp as you felt his cock, likely over average sized with a nice girth, and he shuddered in response.

“Goldie, is it? You’re a naughty one...” he sighed, slipping a finger into your wet cunt.

“Mhmmm,” you crooned. “’S nickname. I don’t suppose you’ll give me yours?”

“You’re a bright bird, ‘m sure ya figured it out.”

“Tangerine, huh?” you hummed, throwing your head back as he began to finger fuck you, his gold rings adding the extra girth that would prepare you nicely for his cock. “I like tangerines...”

“Ya didn’t seem to back there.”

“Well, give me a reason to...” you chuckled, and he grinned, grunting before he hoisted your leg up around his waist, his cock dangerously near your entrance.

“Better be quick,” you teased, staring at him through your lashes. “They’ll get suspicious if I’m not back in five.”

Tangerine chuckled.

“I can do that. Just know it’s not a reflection of me at my best.” he sniffed.

“Good to know.”

Your words were unfounded as he pushed into you, his girth filling you completely as you moulded perfectly around his cock, gripping onto his shirt as he began to buck his hips. The man grunted, accosting himself to the feel of your warm, wet hole – raw and unfiltered, sighing into the nape of your neck as he fucked you. He steadied himself with his hands, gripping onto your thigh with one as the other rested above you, lending him the luxury of staring into your eyes as he drilled you.

“God...” you panted, your lips wet and raw from his kisses. “T-Tan -- You’re so good...”

“That’s it, love,” he beckoned, words rolling off his tongue like honey as he rolled his hips deeper into you. “Say my name...”

“Tangerine...” you whined, eyes fluttering shut as you drowned out the vacuum-like ambience around you, focusing on the small grunts and sweet nothings the man whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending chills up your spine. The room around you was making a slight creaking sound, and you barely even cared that your calf was banging slightly against the door.

With every passing second his thrusts became more focused, solely intended to bring you both to that point of ecstasy- yet you didn’t doubt that Tangerine was the kind of man who made sure you finished, even if he himself didn’t.

His hair was beginning to become undone now, brown strands falling in front of his face, just barely clouding his vision, but enough to make him look even hotter. Both of your shirts became more and more dishevelled as he pressed up against you, the muffled sound of his clothed thigh against your bare ones becoming more frequent as he growled, the sound coming from deep within his muscular chest.

“Fucking hell, darlin’...’M gonna make a mess...” he hissed through laboured breaths. “I’ve gotta pull out --”

“It’s alright,” you lulled, and you could’ve sworn that his cock twitched at the phrase. “I’m on the pill...”

“You naughty girl...You’re gonna get me in trouble --” he groaned, throwing his head back as he gave you a few fast and sloppy pumps, shutting his eyes as you clamped down on him during your own release, creaming around his cock as he filled you with his own. You dug your nails into his clothes as you rode off your respective highs, hair and clothes askew as he rubbed small circles your trembling leg before lowering it to the ground.

Panting, there was a brief silence as you dressed yourselves, with Tangerine preening himself in the tiny mirror.

“You look good as gold.” You said with a smirk, fixing your hat.

“Thanks,” he said with a broad smile, popping some gum into his mouth as he looked you up and down. “You’re a dime a dozen, y’know? Fly this route often?”

“Sometimes,” you hummed, opening the door so that the sign no longer read ‘occupied’. “Why, are you thinking of coming back?”

“I’ll be headed to Kyoto,” he said, looking around before he stepped out. “Maybe I’ll catch you there.”

“Yeah,” you grinned, fixing the final button on your shirt. He’ fucked you so good you could barely even remember what your next journey was. “Maybe.”

#florence writes!!#tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine bullet train x reader #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson imagine #bullet train x reader #x reader smut #atj x reader #atj smut #bullet train 2022

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uwu-bxtch · 25 days ago

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||INHERITANCE ONE|| t.i.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC CONTENT :: SMUT, ino x reader centric, FWB!ino, granny trying to set us up with “fine young men”, ino is kinda a perv

“miss, it’s not that i don’t enjoy conversing with you but, why did you call this meeting.”

two men in suits and a little old lady sit in a study. the woman sat at the head, shakily enjoying some tea as the two men watched her. the blonde was the first to speak, the brunette still pulling out supplies from his briefcase.

“nanami, relax a little. a young man like you shouldn’t be so uptight.”

her statement made the brunette chuckle a bit as he finally closed his briefcase. nanami’s face remained stoic, his right eyebrow twitched lightly. the old woman laughed before letting out a long sigh to continue the matter at hand.

“as you guys know, i’m getting old and i don’t want to stay in this big house anymore.”

“you want to sell?” nanami asks, getting ready to pull out financial papers. the old lady holds her hand up to stop him from rummaging through his files.

“no. hiromi, i want to write my will. i’m giving everything to my granddaughter.”

“everything? money, land, properties, even business ownership?” hiromi asks, clicking his pen and scribbling notes on a legal pad.

“mhm, all of it. i’ll call her and we can arrange a meeting for all the legal signatures; i just wanted to make you guys aware of my plans.”

hiromi continued to scribble on his pad, nanami ended up pulling out his laptop and started typing away.

“where would you go, miss?”

“i’m old and lonely, i want to go to a retirement home.”

nanami gave her a soft smile. “well, i’m sure you’ll pick the best one.”

“if you don’t mind me asking, why is this the first time we’re hearing of this granddaughter?” hiromi asks, eyes lifting from his paper.

“ah, well, she’s been through a lot and lives in the city. doesn’t get to visit often.” she says, a small smile appearing on her face as thoughts of you are appearing in her mind.

“oh you guys would love her, so beautiful and kind. reminds me of how i was at her age. she just won’t settle down, you know how you young people are. too focused on your careers to stop and smell the roses. i might have to set her up with one of you.”

the old woman sent the two men a smirk; nanami loudly cleared his throat while hiromi just let out another chuckle.

“i’m sure she’s lovely, we’ll be looking forward to seeing her at our next meeting.”

the two men stood up and went to either side of the woman, helping her up out of the chair. she led them to the front door, saying their goodbyes. she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before clicking your name.

___

“…and he didn’t even say th-thank you.” you pant, arching your back even further as you recount the hellish day you’ve had. the man underneath you hummed in acknowledgment, reaching up to play with your tit and give it a gentle squeeze.

you bite your lip, eyes rolling back as you continue to bounce in his cock. his other hand rests on the small of your back, firmly rubbing up and down and giving your ass a nice squeeze every so often.

“yeah? what else happened today?” ino asked, tone sweet as honey while absentmindedly rolling your nipple between his pointer and thumb. he looks at you like an adoring puppy as he watched your fucked out face contorting into various expressions of pleasure. his thick cock was hitting just the right spot, causing your legs to tremble every time you rise and fall.

“a-and then the printer broke.” the knot in your stomach gets tighter, making you squeeze your eyes shut and lean forward and rest your forehead on his. The sensation immediately making you forget why you were upset. you sit all the way down, his cock nuzzled all the way deep inside you as you gently grind.

“fuuuck, ino.” you moan. he lets out a low chuckle as he angles his head to kiss along your neck and down to your shoulder.

“you need some help, pretty?” ino asks, his other hand finally trailing down your back to rest on your asscheek. you can only moan in response as both his hands spread you open further and he gently lifts you halfway off his cock before slamming you back down.

his continuous jabs on your sweet spot make you dizzy as waves of pleasure rush through your body. his muscles flex while he bounces you up and down on his dick. the sound of skin slapping fills the room, mixed with your whines and his pants.

“that’s it, fuck, there you go.” ino grunts, hips stuttering a bit once he feels the sting of your nails gripping his bare shoulders. the slight pain sends shivers down his spine, his breath going ragged.

“yes! please, please, please, pl—” you practically chant before cutting yourself off with a high pitched moan, finally being pushed over the edge.

your pussy has a death grip on his cock as he slows down, letting you ride out your high. ino looks up at your worn out face, skin basically glistening from sweat, and moves one of his hands to the back of your head to pull you in for a gentle kiss.

all movements come to a slow stop, the both of you catching your breaths.

“where do you want it, sweets?” ino whispers, slowly pulling his hard dick out of your pussy. you let out a quiet whine at the empty feeling.

“wherever you want.”

he nods and leans in for another kiss before adjusting your positions. he gently lays you on your back as he hovers over you, knees on either side of your hips. he stares at you with hooded eyes, sitting on his heels and slowly stroking his cock.

“f-fuck, you’re so pretty ya’know?” he rambles as his hand continues to pump himself. still tired and barely recovering from an orgasm, all you can do is hum in response.

with every flick of his wrist, his grip tightens more as he reaches the tip. he bucks his hips as he takes some time to rub his thumb on his slit.

“o-oh shit. push them together for me, please.” he moans out, strokes going faster as he gets closer.

you raise your hands to your chest, pushing your tits together per his request. you look up at him with hooded eyes and the sight makes his dick twitch.

“you got this, c’mon, cum for me.” you coo at him, voice a little raspy from your moans.

“fuck, yes. i’m cumming, i’m cu—ah!”

his hot white seed shoots onto your tits as he continues to milk himself dry. he slowly comes to a stop, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. this time, he’s the one to lean down and press his forehead against yours.

he cups your cheek with one hand while his other hand travels to your breasts. he gathers his cum with his fingers and brings them up to your lips. opening your mouth at his silent request, he rests his cum covered fingers inside your mouth. you hum and suck around his fingers before he removes them to capture your lips with his own once more.

you both moan into the kiss, the taste of himself on your lips causing ino to shudder a bit.

a nice shower and some takeout later, the two of you sit on your couch, binging some trashy reality tv show. ino’s really into it, making you giggle at his exaggerated reactions after some particularly juicy drama happens.

“and that’s how you know he is trashy because why--” ino’s rant was interrupted by your loud ringtone.

“hello? hi granny, is everything okay?”

“hi sweetpea, everything is fine.”

“oh okay, what’s up?”

“i wanted to ask if you could visit sometime, i have some awfully great news.”

“a visit could fit into my schedule, what was the news?”

“i’m giving everything to you.”

“y-you’re what?”

“i’ll discuss more with you once you get here, please do so soon.”

before you could ask another question she hung up. you let out a shaky exhale, slowly turning to ino who had been staring at you the whole conversation.

“what happened?”

“i…i have to go to my grandmother’s place.” you mumbled, eyebrows slightly furrowed. you quickly stand to make your way to the room, puling out a suitcase once you make it to your closet.

“is she okay?” he asks, standing up to follow you.

“yeah, it’s just that she said she’s giving me everything.”

your back is to him as you throw clothes into the suitcase. ino stands at the door, watching u with confusion in his eyes.

“when are you leaving? are you going to come back?” he asks, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of your bed.

you pause for a bit, cursing under your breath. this is too much all at once, you were barely able to process what she said before she hung up. you turn to ino, dropping some clothes into the suitcase.

“i’m going there this weekend to see what’s up. i’m not sure when i’ll be back, don’t wait for me.”

ino’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean don’t wait?”

“i’m not sure what my granny has planned, but i don’t wanna keep you hanging if i end up staying. you should find someone else to see.”

“are you sure, because i ca—” you interrupt him with a hand in his face, sitting next to him on the edge.

“i’m sure there’s tons of other women just waiting to get piped by you, don’t let them wait because of me.” you say, jokingly elbowing him. he let out a chuckle.

“okay, well if you need anything you have my number. i’m serious.”

you nod while laughing. “do you mind helping me pack?” ino nodded and shot straight up.

“only if i get to keep a pair of your panties, you know, for memories.”

you playfully roll your eyes as you stood up. “sure, whatever, you freak.”

a/n :: this is for THE ino fan ever, @inciseleviathan , i hoped yall enjoy. i’m trying to get more consistent with posts i swear. this series kinda means the world to me so please treat her nicely 😩no smut in the next chapter but we’ll meet more characters.

#dee.inheritance #dee.fics #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fic #ino takuma #takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #ino takuma x reader #ino takuma smut #takuma ino smut #takuma ino x you #ino takuma x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 27 days ago

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Sum of All 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your legs feel empty, like there’s no blood flowing beneath your waist. You walk beside Rogers, feeling as if you might fall on your face at any time. That’s probably not a good idea seeing as you’ve already knocked out twice within the last hour or two.

He stops and steps ahead of you. He points to a door before he pushes it open, “in here.”

You enter as he waits. For a moment, you worry it could be a sinister trick. That he’ll slam the door and lock you in. But why would he do that? Well, why would he beat a man in the middle of the street?

Thinking of it again, you feel nauseous.

You look around the room. There’s a desk with folders stacked on it. The chair looks like it was manufactured during your great grandfather’s war and the rug can’t be much newer. The curtains are damask and the walls are real hardwood.

“It’s... nice,” you say, “vintage. Looks like the floor’s been refinished.”

“You’re not here to discuss the decor,” he retorts.

“Of course,” you agree as you twiddle your fingers. “What exactly am I here for, er, sir?”

“You’re an accountant.” He states.

“I am.”

He sighs and crosses to the desk. You cautiously follow. You could tip over all over again.

“Sir, do you mind if I sit?” You ask.

He just waves a hand toward the chair. You thank him and gratefully claim the seat. Who knew fainting was so exhausting?

“Man named Warren. I need you to tally it all up. Tell me what you find.” He explains.

“Alright, so I’m balancing his ledger,” you nod.

“Sure,” Rogers sniffs and tucks his hands into his pockets. He backs up and paces across the end of the rug. “You need some water? You gonna check out again?”

“Oh, I have some,” you put your briefcase on the desk and pull out your water bottle. “Thank you. That’s super kind. I can, uh, start on all this.”

He turns back to you, “fine.”

You smile as best you can as his hand runs up his lapel and draws your attention. Again, his knuckles fill you with queasiness. The bruises are the cherry on top of this whole messed up situation.

He pulls his hand back and looks at it. You realise he caught you staring. You clear your throat.

“Looks pretty bad,” he remarks.

“Um, yeah. Pretty bad,” you agree softly. “Look like they’re swelling. Could probably use some ice.”

He examines his hand further and clicks his tongue, “probably.” He drops his arm. “Well, get to work. Don’t got time to waste.”

“Got it,” you assure him and reach for a folder.

He goes and you glance up right as he disappears through the door. He might be gone but your anxiety lingers. These are dangerous men, this is a dangerous place.

While you wouldn’t want an old lady like Geraldine caught up in all of this, why did it have to be you? It’s just like Mr. Brenner to be tangled up with criminals. And now you’re looking through promissory letters and gum wrappers with scribbles on them. This isn’t going to be easy, especially without a computer.

Rogers returns. He sits in the leather armchair near the window. He holds a bundle wrapped in a cloth against his hand. It must be ice.

You pull out a receipt. Half of it is illegible beneath the crimson stain. Little droplets trail over the numbers you can kind of make out. Oh.

“Is that blood?” You ask out loud, then feel yourself plunging forward.

Your head hits the desk. You’re a bit foggy but still awake. You gurgle and push yourself up. You fall stiffly back against the chair and it lurches with your weight.

Rogers appears across the desk from you. You stare at him as you grip the armrest and blow out between your lips. He squints as he comes around to your side.

“Hey, sweetheart, stay with me,” he grabs your chin and you whimper. “Eh, don’t--”

He taps your cheek with his fingers. It’s a gentle gesture. His hand is cold from the ice.

“I’m good,” your murmur. “I just... I’m not a violent person.” You carefully touch his wrist and he lets you go. “Not that I’m saying anything about you. Or what happened earlier. I’m just... look at me, right? Just an accountant.”

He nods.

“You think I overreacted,” he intones.

“I didn’t say... it’s none of my business, right?” You move aside the bloody receipt and wheel closer to the desk. “Numbers are my business.”

He hums, “sure.”

You concentrate, or pretend to, on the folder before you. There’s a lot to sort out, and you mean, more than the clutter. Your mind is racing and you can’t quite decipher anything you’re reading with the fear coursing through you.

“I’ll be back,” he says abruptly as he backs away. “Don't leave this room.”

You don’t need him to give the command. You wouldn’t dare wander around this place on your own. You nod, “I won’t, sir.”

He spins on his heel and struts across the office. You only look up as he gets to the door. He leaves and you lean back in the chair. You can’t let your panic take over. The quicker you get through this, the quicker you can get out of here, and hopefully, never ever come back.

You set yourself straight, fixing your posture, and set to your mission. You might not have the most experience, but you’re determined and you do know what you’re doing. All those places that never replied or sent you those template rejections, they have no idea.

You hunker down, filling the margins in the ledger, row by row. You are enthralled the more you do. It’s like a story unfolding before you. Dates, amounts, locations. Huh, well, this might be some bad news. You really don’t want to be the one to deliver it.

Don’t be too eager. That’s only the first folder. You scratch down another number and flinch as something lands on the desk.

You sit up and stare at the paper bag. Rogers watches you across the desk. Your brows twitch in confusion. He huffs and opens the top of the bag.

“Figured you might not pass out if you eat something,” he takes out a wrapped bagel and holds it out. “Cream cheese, sesame seed.”

“Oh, yum, I mean, thanks,” you accept it. “That’s really... considerate.”

“I can be,” his eyes narrow.

“Of course, I wasn’t saying... anything. Just thank you,” you slowly unwrap the bagel.

He takes out his own and sits in the armchair. You peel back the paper and take a quarter of the bagel. You bite into it, careful not to get any crumbs on the desk.

It might not be the best day, very close to the worst, but you can’t complain for a free meal.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #au #mob au #sum of all #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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echobx · 2 months ago

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Everyone has a Price (part 1) - Rafe × virgin!fem!reader

summary: y/n meets Rafe for the first time and she has conflicting feelings towards her situation

word count: 2.5k

warnings: suggestive language, mild banter

author's note: let's start a bit slow just to then go full speed soon after or whatever. I actually don't know. but I had this idea for a while and finally had the guts to put it down.

kinktober masterlist ✘ series masterlist

You didn't expect anyone to actually bid on it, it was a sick joke, a dare your friends had come up with because you're a 24-year-old pre-law who never had sex or a relationship in her young life. It isn't entirely your fault that you had always focused on school to get into ivy and because of that had barely any time for social interactions all together, not just for men you really believe you could live without.

Yet, here you sit in front of your computer emailing the man who bought his right to take your virginity. Two hundred thousand dollars, and only because the other guy gave up. The guy assures you he would've paid even more if necessary, and you don't know how to feel. The whole conversation you have with him makes it seem like a business deal. He asks about your life, just enough to figure out what would be the best time to fulfill the contract. A contract you set up just in case, and he is okay with it, for the most part. He requested you change the part where you wrote that kissing is off the table. Other than that, he is rather polite about your wishes when it comes to what you would potentially let him do to you. The only real discrepancy appears when he starts to talk about sending you clothes to wear, especially underwear, and tells you how to take care of your body before you get to meet him.

That was a month ago. An entire month of emails back and forth and then a plane ticket and a short flight later you land on a small private airport on the OBX. The car he has waiting for you is more expensive than anything you ever got to ride in, smooth, black leather and a whole snack bar in the back in case you need anything.

“Mr. Cameron is waiting for you at the estate,” the driver tells you, and you can't do anything but nod. It all feels surreal that this is actually happening. First the briefcase filled with money a week ago, filled with much more than he needed to pay, with the intention that you went and bought all the things he had talked to you about over email; and then the fact that you still have no idea who he actually is. You have his last name, but that is all, and no matter how much you researched you couldn't be sure which one of the many R.Camerons he is. But that doesn't matter now because you are there, you plan to go through with it and give him what he paid for, nothing more.

“You will be living in the pool house for the time,” the driver tells you as he lifts your bags into a golf cart and signs you to sit down. The house before you is imposing to say the least, but you can't let any of them see you falter and show any type of reaction other than boredom towards the whole situation. So you have to stick with it. You left your overexcited nature at home and brought only dullness with you, because you thought it was more appropriate than to act like a child in a candy store, considering how much wealth you are surrounded by.

But the pool house is not much less lavish than the main house. The one-story building is clean white and modern, with the side facing the pool being only windows, giving you a good look inside. There's a small kitchen, a living room area and two closed doors to the side, possibly the bedroom and bathroom.

The maid that opens the door for you smiles sweetly, she could be your mom if that one wasn't home where she belongs. “You must be Ms.y/l/n,” she greets you but doesn't take your hand at first when you extend it.

“Hi, yes, just call me y/n,” you say politely. “What's your name?” She simply smiles and walks into the house, so you follow, still confused why she didn't tell you her name.

“Mr. Cameron expects you for dinner at 7pm in the main house. We will send someone to pick you up and then after to bring you back here. For the time of your stay, this will be your personal space, as if it's your home,” she tells you before walking into the kitchen and showing you a small binder. “In here you will find everything you need to know, on how to navigate the house and the estate, in case you will need it.” She then points towards the doors behind you. “Your bedroom is on the left, the bathroom is on the right. If you need anything just call us over the house phone, speed dial 12 on every landline phone in this house and the one outside at the pool,” she extends her hand to point at a British phone booth that stands in a corner by the pool, it looks rather out of place compared to the other design choices made here.

“That's very kind,” you smile politely, and she bows slightly before stepping to the side and leaving you alone.

It's all surreal. The fact that you are there. The fact that the house you are staying in is considered a “pool house” but it's triple the size of the flat you share with your two best friends. The fact that you will have to get dressed for dinner in two hours, and you don't know what the man who “bought” your presence looks like, or his personality.

You stroll around for a bit, inspecting the small kitchen that was still big enough to fit into the whole kitchen and living room space of your home. The white couch, soft to the touch and filling out half of the living room. Your feet carry you to the bedroom, held in a pastel purple color and with a queen size bed in the middle. The mattress is harder than you expected, but it will do for the one week you will spend there. The silk sheets smell like lavender and honey.

Your bags are standing on a bench at the foot end of the bed, but a box that is placed on the dresser to your right is what really draws you in.

“For y/n” it reads in cursive on the small tag that is attached to the pink ribbon that holds the gift together. You take the box and sit down on the bed, pulling on the ribbon and picking up the lid.

“What the-” you exclaim as you pull the lace underwear from the box. It’s expensive. It feels expensive to the touch of your shaking hands. Dark green panties with stocking clips attached to them, as well as a bra that nearly makes your eyes pop out of your head. But the worst part is the letter that lies below the gift in the box.

“Dear Ms.y/l/n, this is just one of many gifts that I am willing to give to you, no matter how well this week will turn out for us both. I would hope you take it for a test drive before you decide whether you want to accept it.

Sincerely, Rafe Cameron

P.S. I hope I picked the right size.”

You gulp and take the underwear back up to check the label, and it's scary in a way that he managed to pick your size based on the few pictures you had sent him over text.

“What am I doing here?” you sigh, getting up and scrambling to put the box back together, making it look like it has never been touched. Everything around you is overwhelming; the hospitality; the fact that what you are doing is basically the same as being a prostitute, and your deeply religious parents would crucify you if they knew. You breathe deeply, focusing on your body and how every breath feels inside you, as if you are meditating on the go. “I can do this,” you decide, and keep repeating it like a mantra while walking into the bathroom.

The dark gray-petrol colored tiles make you feel calmer almost instantly upon seeing them. You take a few steps towards the vanity, inspecting yourself in the huge round mirror. Your flight and the anxiety about meeting Mr. Cameron, Rafe, got to you pretty good, too good maybe. Your hair is a mess, and you feel dirty, although you showered before driving to the airport.

After a hot shower in the bathroom that probably cost more than your education, you step back into the bedroom to get ready. You decide against the “gift” and go with what you had packed. A simple black panty and a black lace bra to wear under your silver cocktail dress. You hope he won't try to sleep with you tonight already, because you are exhausted and scared, mostly scared.

With your hair in a knot you make your way to the door, just for the driver, Grayson as you learned from the binder, to be already waiting for you.

“Mr. Cameron is waiting for you at the main house,” he says, and gestures to you to take a seat in the golf cart. The short drive up to the house leaves you freezing in the breezy air that blows over the estate.

The mansion is truly opulent, marble floors and floor to ceiling windows line the living room, or what you assume to be the living room, while a different maid as earlier guides you towards the dining hall.

“Mr. Cameron will be with you in a second,” she tells you, bowing just like the other maid had and leaving you alone in the huge room.

The table, which could comfortably seat 24 people, is filled with food; salads, fruit, tapas, and decorations and many more delicious treats that you couldn't even name if you tried to. You decide to look around some more when your eyes fall to a painting, a family portrait, and you begin to wonder which one of the two men in it, you will be meeting. The older one has his arm around the blonde woman, and his other hand is placed on the shoulder of the boy in front of him. The boy, his son, looks just a smidge younger than the woman you presume to be the wife. The two daughters look nothing alike, but they seem close, as much of that as you can tell from a painting.

“I debated taking that one down, but he would turn in his grave if I did,” a rough, deep voice comes from behind you, and you spin around to look at the man.

Rafe is wearing a white button up and black dress pants, his hair is short, but not too short or too long for your liking. He looks well groomed and has a friendly smile for someone who purchased a girl’s first sexual experience online. You don't even notice that he is just as much silently taking in every aspect of you, as you are him, until he speaks up again. “Shall we eat?”

You still don't say a thing as you take your seat and only utter a quiet “thank you” to the boy, who brings you your food.

“I would like it if we could talk on a first name basis, Ms. y/l/n. Would you be okay with that?” Rafe asks, and you look up from your plate, over the complete length of the table and gaze at him before nodding swiftly. You don't know why he sits so far away from you, but a part of you is glad about it. No one could've expected that the man who paid for your virginity was this hot.

“You will need to speak with me, I know it's still a bit overwhelming. I can only imagine what must be going through your head right now, but I base my businesses on open communication and trust. Do you understand, y/n?” Rafe asks and you nod again.

“Yes, Sir,” you rasp, and he cocks a brow while you clear your throat.

“It's Rafe. Call me Rafe.”

“Uhm… o-okay, Rafe,” you are hesitant, but his smile returns as soon as his name has left your lips.

“Perfect.”

You get through the first three courses without having to talk too much, giving him rather quick answers to his questions but never posing any of your own. By the fourth course, he seems annoyed, and it makes your hair stand up in the back of your neck with how the atmosphere seems to change because of his attitude.

“Ask me something,” he demands, emptying his wine glass and signing the help for another one.

“I don't-” you stammer, and he leans forward, practically glaring at you.

“You can't have no questions. We have been talking for hours, we talked for weeks before you even got here and you have no questions? That's highly unlikely for someone who wants to be a lawyer.” You don't know if he is genuinely asking or mocking you.

“I wasn't sure if I was allowed to,” you answer truthfully, and he nods, leaning back and smirking.

“You really are something, aren't you?”

“Why?” you speak up, lifting your chin and putting your game face on, if he wanted your lawyer side to come out, he could get it.

“Why what?”

“Why buy yourself the opportunity to take someone's first time? Do you not think that's a bit crazy?” you ask, and he laughs, a genuine laugh that you really hadn't expected.

“Shit, you put yourself up for grabs, and it's a mystery to me how you manage to stay intact for that long. I mean,” he lifts his hand to gesture at you, “no one ever tried to get into your pants?”

“No,” you shake your head a single time.

“I don't believe it,” Rafe counters, and you scoff.

“I am not going to debate with you over potential men that could've gotten what you so desperately seem to crave.”

“And what is that?” Rafe is amused by your manners, by how quickly he can get you riled up.

“You want a nice, innocent, pretty girl to tell you that you're worth something to her, that you deserve attention and affection and adoration,” you say and take your glass up to down it.

“Are you wearing it?” he asks, changing the topic faster than you had wished.

“Why?” Now it's you who eyes him wearily, waiting for a response that will make him look like he's less of an asshole than he actually is.

“I pictured you in it when I picked it out. And to answer your question-”

“I didn't ask you anything else,” you interrupt him, and he chuckles.

“I'll answer either way, darling,” Rafe says while the help brings in the last course and takes the empty plates with them. “I have never done this before, not like this,” he says and turns to his desert, not paying much attention to you anymore all night.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @hoe4sunarin @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @because-i-like-toxic-men @rafeeekam @carolinaxvz

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #~kinktober24 #my writing #~fanfiction #~everyone has a price

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anniebass · 7 months ago

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baby don't be mad

1.3k word actverse ficlet under the jump rating: M tags: dialogue-heavy, beginning of the relationship, the boys are arguinggg, old man eddie's being a clueless slut, and also a dweeb, and steve's being... a person that rly needs therapy lol

Rapid catchups, they name it, though it doesn’t really need a name, it’s basically just talking. Early on Eddie realizes he doesn’t know all that much about his sexy old-but-new long distance serious boyfriend, that he possesses a fuckton of outdated information, that, duh, people change, especially in the long-ass time they spent apart. That the habits and opinions of a twenty-year-old shithead don’t necessarily last until someone’s forties.

That evening, they do the rapid catchups, starting off easy, prompted by the takeout dinner they have at Steve’s: best Asian food, go, at which without a second thought Steve says Chinese, while Eddie goes with Japanese, love me some sushi, yum. Later, when they’re full of kung pao and mapo tofu, lazily digesting on the couch, half-watching an old movie where Sharon Stone saunters across the screen and smolders at bad men, Steve says: you have to sleep with a woman, any woman in the world, dead or alive, go.

Eddie groans and slides down the couch, throws his hands up: dude, I don’t know! Uh, like maybe— Cleopatra? Or maybe one of those amazonian greek warriors with one boobie?

So, no one you actually know the face of? he says, with a little smirk.

Man, I don’t— I mean, there are some beautiful women walking this earth, like stunning stunning women I can’t get enough of, but that don’t mean I want to fuck them! My willy shrinks at the thought, he explains meekly, and shrugs, clicking his tongue: I dunno, maybe Eartha Kitt? She seems very fun.

Good choice, mutters Steve, and to Eddie’s your turn he tilts his head, scratches his nose: I don’t know if that question really applies to me. But if I had to have a sex list, it would be… Linda Evangelista? Or Sharon, she’s hot. Or— yeah, Monica Belucci, Jesus. Her, definitely. If not her then Cleopatra, that’s actually a great answer, she must have been good for all that shit to go down around her, he says with a smile, and Eddie sighs dreamily, oh, I’d love to watch. From the closet, imagine myself in her place. In a little egyptian wig, he adds, to which Steve snorts, rolling his eyes.

Alright, my turn. Best casual sex you’ve ever had, go, says Eddie, and Steve hums at that, leans back on the couch, rubbing his chin, mumbling under his breath, until he sighs and says: I actually didn’t have that much of it beyond my teens, and what I had back then was very… teenaged, y’know. And in that short gap between my first and second wife I slept with just three people, two dudes and one woman, and neither of those was mind-blowing. The guys were kinda disappointing, I thought after so many years of straight sex I’d be blown away, but it was just… okay. Actually—, he adds, shaking his head: it sucked. I was drunk, they were drunk, I don’t remember much of it. Or don’t want to. I remember stinky balls. So, I dunno—, he says, and sighs, and glances at him: am I a big loser if I say the best one was when we reconnected? Could say it was still casual back then, right? When we fucked in the church, or by the pool, or—, yeah, there was a lot of it, on that trip.

It really was magical, agrees Eddie, smiling at him.

So, uh, your turn, says Steve. Best you've ever had, go.

Oh, man, mutters Eddie. I know my answer to that. Japan, in the mid-nineties. We were on tour and stayed for a few nights in Tokyo, and I got to explore the city, research shit with the help of a very discreet translator, and finally, on our last night there, I ended up in a gay bar. Very hush-hush, a basement place hidden away in some grimy back alley, he says, lowering his voice into sultry tones of gossip. Met a guy there, this… slightly chubby middle-aged businessman type, suit and tie and briefcase, wedding ring on his finger, very regular looking guy, and we drank sake through the night, sang some karaoke, and ended up in some seedy by-the-hour love hotel. He didn’t know who I was, didn’t speak a lick of English, I was obviously drunk, but I still remember that night like it was yesterday. God, just— the way that guy fucked me, the way he seemed to know every inch of my body without having seen it before, the way he just knew what I wanted without any language, it was insane. We did it a few times that one night, practically without stopping, and never saw each other again. I actually jerk off to that memory to this day.

To this, Steve lets out a small hm, purses his lips and leans back, crossing his arms, and Eddie clicks his tongue, leaning closer, touching his shoulder: aw, don’t be jealous. That was casual, but out of all people, of course you are my number one, no contest. I just— remember that one time in Japan, because it worked so well without language, and that’s always kinda hot. Language of love, all that cheesy stuff. Up to that point and following it, it'd mostly happen with some hot Brazilians.

Okay, he says.

Eddie sighs, watching his face: Steve, you know that’s what my life was like back then, this neverending barrage of hookups. And most of those weren’t even that good, like, you talk of stinky balls? I met dozens, slobbered over them anyway like they were fucking Ferrero Rocher!, he says to a small groan in return, then sighs, speaks softer: being with you is a completely different quality from that, even from my previous relationships. It’s way different. With Marcell, we both slept around, there wasn’t much that we had in common beyond, like, incredible attraction at the beginning, and the fact that we work in the same industry, could endlessly talk about that. And with Zu, we— we really loved each other, but we weren’t a good fit. It was this weird thing where she needed someone more masc, but also I needed someone more masc, he says with an amused scoff. We were two bottoms in love, and it’s hard to make it work in the long term, without fucking other people. We’re way better off as friends. And the other dudes I dated, it was just— me being a drunken asshole, most of the time. I was a very shitty boyfriend for a looong-ass time.

There’s a stretch of silence, and Steve slides down the couch, still frowning: man… I just wonder why you asked that question in the first place. Because it seems to me like you wanted to brag a little about this incredible hookup you had in fucking… Japan. Do you miss fucking other people, Eddie?

He sighs, rakes a hand through his hair: Steve, I literally just told you I don’t. I might romanticize it, the— the way I might romanticize being on drugs, but I don’t want to go back to that. I asked because I want to know everything about you! I dunno, I— I guess I like Japan. It’s such a weird place, I really want to go back there, he says and inches closer, placing a calm hand on his thigh: come with me. Like, for two weeks or something. We’d take the girls with us, go in the summer or for the spring break. Would be cool to just wander around, shop, sing karaoke, eat tons of good food. Go to Kyoto, see the geishas, tea ceremony. Go to hot springs. Japan’s truly like no place you’ve ever been to.

I didn't know you liked it that much. A trip does sound nice, says Steve, with a small smile. Emily would go crazy, she loves those cartoons. Chels would like it too, I think.

Eddie smiles and squeezes his leg: sounds like a plan. Also, just to— get it out of the way: from the moment you first kissed me, I stopped thinking of us as casual. I was, like, fully fully back in love with you in point two seconds. Even before that, to be honest. If I ever for a single moment considered that a hookup, it’d totally blow that businessman out of the water. If you want, I could show you, uh, how I blew him out of the— fucking—, he falters, then snorts: sorry, failed metaphor. But you catch my drift.

Yes, please, says Steve.

#posting the roughs here bc I don't care enough to put it up on ao3 #if you've never read anything of mine don't start here bestie #I'm dead serious #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #act verse #steddie fic #old steddies #ficlets

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hurtghul · 1 year ago

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The Bird and the Cat !!

―― Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 674 words. Part two here.

Damian hates this with every ounce of his being, and he has every reason to hate it. It's not for nothing that he puts on Robin's cape and takes to the streets following his father like a tail dog, hoping to catch the attention of criminals and kick their butts. He does it because it is a duty that he chose and to which he was guided. That's why he made fun of the love relationship between Bruce and Selina, for Damian, it is a hypocritical issue, his father, the hero, dating a thief. How funny.

And now he feels like the hypocrite.

You had just robbed some important men, a suitcase full of money. Damian was doing his daily patrol, when he saw you—he didn't have to blink twice to know it was you―he had already been alert to your activity, knowing that you would appear; because he wants you to do it.

He attacked you as you jumped from building to building, you wouldn't have even noticed his presence until he gave you that strong kick that sent you off your path. He had decided the right moment to attack you as you jumped onto a roof.

The young Robin landed a few meters away from you, he looked at the suitcase that was next to you. He approached with slow steps, and kicked the suitcase away of your grip.

“You lost a life, cat.” Robin sentences, his voice almost a whisper. His hands clench into fists as he looks at you, brow furrowed, watching as you rub your neck from the pain of the fall he caused you.

“Shut up, little bird.” You growled, trying to grab the briefcase containing your robbery target. Damian stepped on the object, narrowing his eyes at you.

“If you have courage, take it,” Damian said, and pulled the R-shaped shuriken from his belt. “Just look how much I care, cat.” He joked calmly, face Stoic with a tone of defiance in his voice, trying to provoke your reaction and show his superiority of the moment. You're just a thief, not a fighter. Damian knows this because he has analyzed you—he is very interested in you.

His green eyes stared at you, a slight smile forming on his face. He liked when you get angry whenever he interrupts your heists, when he stops you from accomplishing your crimes, and you have to fight him. But that's when something never fits: he never gave you up to the police.

You tried to attack him with a punch―or a scratch rather―but you failed horribly. Robin saw your movements and stopped your blow with his hand, looking at you coldly.

Neither of them moved a muscle, frozen at the moment between duty and crime, feeling the pressure course through his veins. His hand moved slowly, holding your wrist.

Why couldn't I arrest you? It was the question Damian couldn't answer, and he wished no one would ask it. He was even doing his best to keep Father from knowing about his failures.

Then, to your surprise, he let go of you, letting his hands fall to his sides. He uttered no words, no sounds, no clicks. He didn't even attack you, as if he was absorbed in another world.

Then you understood, he was letting you escape. You didn't waste the opportunity, although you seemed confused by it.

“Damn cats…” Damian muttered, breathing deeply, his heart beating faster than ever. He watched as you grabbed the suitcase and run away quickly.

Damian felt a rush of adrenaline that filled his entire body. It had been a long time since he had experienced someone who made him feel like this, and now the person who did it turn out to be a thief.

He is experiencing the same thing as his father, a game of cat and mouse. He chases you, defeats you, and pushes you to your limits, as if all he was looking for was your reaction—your attention. The Robin is just like his father, but that irritates him, because he is confused and doesn't know how to react…

Maybe yes, maybe you stole his heart.

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ninthcircleofprythian · 1 month ago

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Boop or Treat

Modern AU - Azris

Warnings - pure sweet Halloween fluff

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - the boops are back! THE BOOPS ARE BACK! And as with everything that goes through my brain - it usually ends up with some form of Azris. Shout out to @thecutestgrotto for the amazing boop dividers. Enjoy and Happy Halloween! (This is also unedited - we die like men)

The sound of the front door slamming shut stirred Azriel’s attention from his task.

“You’re late,” he boomed as he made his way to the front hallway. “I was nearly about to come looking for you.”

“Sorry,” she huffed as she tossed her backpack into the corner and gathered the shopping bags she had dropped unceremoniously at her feet. “I made a couple stops on the way home. I had an idea.”

Azriel observed the mischievous twinkle in his teenage daughters’ eye, like a star shining in her dark irises. Scanning over her armload he noticed at least one of the stops was the craft store.

“This wouldn’t be another costume idea would it?” Az sighed. She had changed her mind on what she was dressing up as at least a dozen times over the last couple weeks. More than one late night was required of him and his help in order to pull off whatever idea she had concocted up that time.

But the day was here. Today was Halloween.

“This is the one,” she giggled as she led the way into the living room. “It’s genius. It’s perfect. And best of all - we can whip it up in no time.”

The bags were upended into a pile on the coffee table, the supplies spilling haphazardly on its surface.

“Ok – so here’s the plan,” his daughter started, rubbing her hands together with glee.

A couple hours later, the plan had come to fruition. Azriel had to give it to her, it was indeed a fairly simple idea that didn’t require a ton of time. Genius and perfect however he was still unsure of since he wasn’t exactly fully understanding of what it was, but his kids were excited and that's all that mattered.

His young son looked up from the project his daughter had tasked him with. “I can still wear my Spiderman costume with this right Papa?”

“Of course you can,” Az answered with a smile.

“Yeah bud, anyone can boop,” his sister piped up from her gluing. “Just remember - just like I showed you.”

He scrambled from the floor, donning his modified oven mitt wrapped in bandages. “BOOP!” he cried as he tapped his mitted paw print hand against her forehead before breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Exactly! Perfection,” his sister laughed as she put the finishing touches on her skeleton paw mitt.

The sound of the garage door opening caught Azriel’s attention. “Dad’s home,” he announced.

“DADDY!” squealed his son as he scurried toward the door.

“Remember the plan!” his daughter bellowed after him as she rose from the floor.

Azriel trailed behind them and joined their formation by the door. Both of them stood not quite still, giggling furiously between them, one arm tucked behind their backs.

The door swung open just as Az took his place, matching his children’s stance.

Eris took two steps through the door before stopping dead in his tracks, eyes narrowing as he took in his family standing before him conspiratorially, all wide grins and giggles.

“What’s this?” he questioned as he kicked the door closed behind him. “I thought we were going trick or treating. Where are your costumes?”

“We’re ready,” his daughter said seriously as his son broke into a fresh fit of giggles.

Eris’ eyes narrowed further as he looked to his partner for some clue of what was happening. His only answer was a shrug and a lopsided smile.

While his attention was diverted, his daughter approached as if she were going to hug him. Eris bent slightly to set down his briefcase before lifting an arm to embrace her. Slipping one arm around him in a side hug, she brought her hidden hand from behind her. Before Eris could fully comprehend the apparatus she was wearing on her hand - it made contact with his face. Squarely in the middle of his forehead.

“Boop,” she giggled as she pulled away.

“What the -,” Eris sputtered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” his son interrupted from in front of him. “I have to tell you something!”

“What is it, buddy?” Eris said as he bent lower to his height.

“Come here,” he whispered. “It’s a secret.”

Eris once again locked eyes with his husband, knowing full well at this point that it was some kind of trick. Azriel only nodded towards their son with a look that said “play along”.

“Alright, bud.” Eris whispered back. “What’s the secret?”

Whipping his hand from behind his back he revealed his mummy paw for only a second before it too tapped against Eris’ nose.

“Boop!” his son whisper yelled before falling to the floor in exaggerated laughter.

Straightening to stand, Eris stepped towards his husband with a chuckle. “What exactly is going on here?”

“Don’t ask. Just go with it,” Azriel smiled broadly as he leaned in for a kiss. One gentle peck of a kiss was all he got as Az pulled his face back, now giggling himself.

“What has gotten into you all?” Eris quirked a brow.

The hidden hand that Eris hadn’t even noticed behind his husband's back rose up to meet his gaze.

“Boop.” Az chuckled as his paw mitt pressed against Eris’ lips.

Before he could retract his hand fully, Eris grabbed Az’s wrist, inspecting the appendage with curiosity. “What exactly is it?”

“It’s supposed to be a ghost.” Az sighed with a laugh. “The kids needed my help so mine got a little rushed.”

Eris planted one more kiss to Az’s lips, this one lingering a bit longer than before. “As long as they’re happy, I guess,” Eris sighed, smiling. “We should get going before all the good candy is gone,” he announced to the room.

“WAIT!” their son wailed. “I’m still gonna be Spiderman! Let me get my costume!” He scurried off toward the stairs.

“I’ll get the buckets,” their daughter mentioned as she walked away, slipping a cat ear headband over her head.

Eris shrugged off his suit jacket before hanging it on the hook. Leaning back against the counter he tipped his head against Az’s shoulder.

“Happy Halloween,” he said, nestling in a little closer.

Draping one arm over his husband, he leaned his face into Eris' rust colored hair. The silky strands rubbed over Az’s lips as he pecked a kiss to the crown of Eris’ head. “Happy Halloween, my love.”

Taglist -

@mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages @c-starstuff-man0

#azris #azris fluff #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger #eris x azriel #acotar halloween #acotar AU #halloween fic #azriel fluff #eris fluff

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kodiakleather · 5 days ago

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miryum · 4 months ago

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"Halloween III"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

"Attention, squad! Today is the most important day in the history of this precinct,” Y/n cried out in the briefing room. She raised a dramatic hand and said in a low voice, “for today is Halloweeeeeen!” She turned to Captain Wayne, pouting. “I thought we were going to say it together.”

“I never agreed to that,” he stated.

Y/n sighed and continued, “as you may know, for the past two years, Captain Wayne and I have engaged in an epic battle of wits. The goal: to determine who must call the other an amazing detective-slash-genius.”

Wayne cut in. “The first year, by sheer, dumb luck, Y/n eked out a feeble victory.”

“And last year, I let the Captain win, because he's old and sad,” Y/n retorted.

Wayne raised a brow and quickly quipped, “sad because the competition was so dismal.”

“Is this meeting about something?” Steph asked from a chair. Jason sat next to her, his nose red and eyes tired.

“It's about everything.” Y/n said, aghast that her best friend would even ask that. “This year's the tie-breaker, a final heist to decide once and for all the true ruler of the six-six. Halloween Heist Three: The Heistening. Tagline?” She pointed at Captain Wayne excitedly.

“This year we both attempt to steal the same object instead of L/n attempting to steal one from me.”

Y/n huffed and whispered, “I gave you one direction on the tagline! Make it snappy. But yes, we will be attempting to steal the same item... this.” She held up a plastic crown etched with faux jewels.

“The crown will be locked in this briefcase, which in turn will be locked in the interrogation room.” Wayne took the crown from Y/n and placed it in said briefcase.

Y/n sang quietly, “And so unto the briefcase goes the crown!”

“This year,” Wayne continued, “we have decided to include the rest of the precinct, and so to be fair, we're holding a draft.”

“Everyone who participates will get the night off,” Y/n said. “Captain?”

Wayne hummed. “With the first pick of the draft, I choose… Richard.”

“Alright, I'll take Steph.” Y/n grinned and high-fived her best friend.

“Damian.”

“I take Cass.” Y/n said.

“Todd is too sick to participate,” as if on cue, Jason sneezed. “In fact, I don’t even know why he's still here…” Wayne muttered. “And Drake is too loyal to L/n.”

“Nuh-uh!” Both Y/n and Tim cried.

“Have you seen his ass-kissery?” Y/n asked incredulously. ”I can’t trust him! Tim would do anything to win your approval, including pretending to be my friend for the past years only to betray me now even though Wayne only joined the six-six three years ago.”

“L/n, you are majorly overthinking this,” Tim said.

“Maybe, but it's a risk I'm not willing to take. Tim’s out.”

“I agree. So we agree that by midnight, whoever has the crown shall be the ruler of the six-six.” Wayne had a rare smirk on his face.

“So,” Steph strolled into the room and said to Damian, “I see you've been assigned to guard the briefcase too.”

“Correct, Brown. I’ve been given clear instructions to keep a close and clear watch on both the briefcase and you.” He nodded towards the briefcase which sat in the interrogation room. He and Steph currently stood behind the two way mirror.

“Well, I have exciting news!” Steph exclaimed. “I found the perfect guy to set you up with!”

“After zero consideration, I'm happy to say, ’hard pass.’ It's incredibly… sweet that you wish to set me up with someone, but I do not trust your taste in men.”

“I have spectacular taste in men. You would love Jon.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “You are impossible.”

Y/n paced the break room. Jason lay on the couch, a blanket tucked over him and a box of tissues at the ready. Y/n had Doordash open on her phone, popsicles ready to be ordered for his sore throat. Jason lightly groaned and turned over in his sleep and Y/n’s head whipped over to him. She crouched down next to him and brushed her hand over his forehead. He officially had a fever and she placed a cool washcloth over his forehead. She went back to pacing the room and suddenly, a Halloween decoration with motion sensors rang out. The cackle of the fake witch blared throughout the room and Y/n cried, “gah! Scary witch! Scary, so so scary!”

“I am not going to meet my next boyfriend through a Stephanie set-up.” Damian crossed his arms.

“It's go time, Brown.” Y/n whispered into her comm from up in the vents. “Holt and Terry have closed the blinds... release the spiders.”

Stephanie discreetly took a bag of spiders out of her pocket and dumped them onto the floor. “Oh, my god! Damian, look! Spiders!” She let out a scream and jumped back.

Damian squatted down and hummed. “Achaearanea tepidariorum. The common house spider.” He placed a finger on the ground and some spiders crawled over his hand. “How did you fellas get in here?”

Y/n strapped herself into the harness and grinned. “Commence operation, ‘oh crap, wrong vent.’” She opened the vent cover and dropped down, suspended a couple metres from the ground. “Oh crap, wrong vent,” she said. “This was a mistake.”

Damian scoffed. “Nice try, imbeciles. You blew it. Honestly, I expected better from you, L/n. It seems as if all my trainings failed to pay off.” While Damian was distracted, Cass used two plungers to suction the window glass off of the interrogation room door.

Y/n smacked her lips. “Yep, we totally blew it. And all because Brown marked the wrong vent.” Meanwhile, Cass silently somersaulted through the window and to the table the briefcase was handcuffed to.

“It's not my fault!” Steph defended. “I thought it was the right vent.” Cass took out a knife and cut open the briefcase and extracted the crown. She placed it between her teeth and flipped the briefcase over, hiding the hole.

“I'm having trouble even believing you right now.” Y/n shook her head, still hanging in the air. “That is the last time I let Steph mark a vent.”

“I'm normally great at marking vents.”

Cass jumped back through the window and replaced the glass. She whispered into the comms, “lock picked.”

Y/n was attempting to stall for time. “Never, ever, never, ever, ever, never, ever, ever, never, ever, will I ever, never, ever, ever, ever, ever, never, never, never- I forgive you, and good-bye!” She hoisted herself up at Cass’ command and crawled back through the vents. Steph quickly excused herself and Damian’s eyes flickered to the briefcase. It was still there.

Later, the trio met crowded around Y/n’s desk and she gushed, “wow, you should have seen us, Cass! Steph and I were amazing.”

Cass folded her arms and announced, “I somersaulted through a window, cut the crown out of a briefcase, and replaced everything in under a minute.”

“Yeah, I guess you helped a little.” Y/n stuck her tongue out and returned back to her and Steph. “But our fake argument was super convincing. And all of a sudden, we had to make it longer, and we did!” She took the crown from Cass and stuck it in a filing drawer. ”Anyways, now all we gotta do is guard this drawer until midnight, and the best part is that Wayne has absolutely no idea.”

From inside his office, Wayne towered diabolically over his monitor which showed the video feed and sound from the bullpen, the camera and microphone pointed directly at Y/n’s desk. “She is such a fool,” Captain Wayne said. “Yes, believe I'm the fool. You fool.”

“So we wanted Y/n to take the crown?” Dick asked, peering over his shoulder.

“Sergeant, are you familiar with the Hungarian fencing term, Hosszú Gorcs?”

“You gotta realise my answer is no,” Dick deadpanned.

Wayne explained, “it’s a strategy of letting your opponent win points early on as to give them a sense of overconfidence, thus exposing a much easier target for you later.”

“You think she's overconfident enough?”

From the monitor, Y/n proclaimed, “I'm the smartest woman alive. I'm never gonna die!”

Damian was doing his best to ignore Steph when a knock sounded on the door. Stephanie grinned and said in a high-pitched voice, “oop, I wasn't expecting anyone.” She threw open the door with a flourish. “Come in, Jon.”

A tall, muscular man with dark windswept hair entered the room, smiling brightly. “Hey, Steph. What’s up?”

Steph turned back to Damian. “Dami, this was the boy I was telling you about.”

Damian’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he regained his composure and glared at Stephanie. “I know what's happening. This isn't a setup... this is a setup. He’s supposed to distract me from the heist.”

“The heist?” Jon asked, glancing at Steph.

“Shut your cute face,” Damian snapped before scoffing. “I don't buy it. This is an obvious trap and I expected better of you Stephanie. I thought you were one of the smart ones.” He turned back to Jon. “Who are you, really, Jon? If that even is your real name…” He poked Jon in the chest and pushed him towards the door. “Okay. Bye-bye, Jon!”

“Hey, Cass,” Dick shuffled up to her, knowing he was probably about to lose one of his nine lives. “I'm not saying these are from your motorcycle,” He held up a pair of handlebars. “But... I found these outside.”

Cass’ nostrils flared. “You better not have messed with my bike for this heist.” Her voice was laced with venom. ”Let me remind you, Sarge, I'm carrying a weapon and I’m not afraid to stick it to the man.”

“We all have the same weapon, Cain,” Dick deadpanned. However, when Cass pulled out an SRK, he exclaimed, “Geez, Cass! Where'd you get that?” Cass grumbled a swear and stalked off. Relieved he hadn’t died, Dick said into a comm, “Orphan has left the nest.” He swept out of the room.

“And…” Captain Wayne folded his hands together, smirking. “Ding.” On cue, the elevator opened, emitting a ding.

“You wanna see Daddy?” Kori led her daughters into the bullpen. “Come on!” Martha and Tammy were dressed in small replicas of police uniforms for Halloween, clutching pumpkin candy bags in their fists. They had just turned three and looked absolutely adorable with identical pigtails.

“Time for the twin twist,” Wayne said. “And I love a good use of alliteration.”

“Hey, Y/n.” Kori greeted her friend.

“Hey, guys!” Y/n cooed at her goddaughters.

“We wanted to surprise Dick. Have you seen him?”

“Oh, he just went downstairs for a bit, but he should be back soon,” Y/n said.

Kori nodded and called to her twins, “Martha? Tammy? Do you guys want to take a picture with Auntie Y/n?”

“Yeah!” Martha abandoned poking a sleeping Jason and Tammy looked up from inspecting a pair of handcuffs. Y/n’s eyes narrowed at the question.

“You don't mind, do you?”

“Uh... no, of course not.” Y/n began nodding slowly. “That would be so fun.”

“What if we do it in the briefing room, like you're assigning them a case?” Kori was a perfect actress, delivering her lines with ease.

Y/n hesitated and glanced around for a sign of Damian, Wayne, or Dick. “No, I mean, you know what would be even more fun than that... is if we took a picture right here, and I could have my hand on this cabinet.” She smiled broadly, laughing loudly.

“Okay,” Kori conceded.

“Nailed it,” Y/n congratulated herself quietly.

From outside the window on the precinct deck, Captain Wayne could be seen peeking through, carefully watching Y/n and her filing cabinet.

“Here we go…” Kori held up her camera. Wayne slowly opened the window and rolled through it, crouching on the ground. “Oh, God, it was in video mode... sorry.”

“Take your time,” Y/n reassured her. “I could do this all day. Matter of fact, what if we did one where I had both hands on the cabinet... one on top, and then one on the front?” She took her arms from around the twins and placed them on her cabinet. Wayne crawled to the backside of the cabinet and took out a silenced drill. He began unscrewing the bolts of the backside of the cabinet.

“Uh, yeah? Looks good.” Kori held up her phone again as Wayne stealthily took off the back of the cabinet and extracted the crown from inside. “All right, smile... three, two, one…” The camera snapped just as Wayne stood up and showcased the crown in the picture. “Cheese! Very good.” Kori beamed and gestured to her girls. Wayne somersaulted, akin to Cass, into the break room. ”Great, you guys. Let's find Daddy!”

Y/n snickered and muttered, “daddy.”

As Wayne straightened up, the witch decoration cackled loudly. At the sound, Y/n shot out of her seat and Jason startled from his sleep. “What's going on?” She ran to the break room where Wayne threw the crown into the trash to conceal it. “Aha!” Y/n points an assuring finger towards him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” Wayne looked around and spotted a can of soda. He picked it up and studied it. “Just enjoying a taste of my favourite beverage, the… soda pop.”

Y/n glared at him. “Really? I have never seen you enjoy soda before.” She clicked her tongue and tilted her chin up. “Why… uh, why don’t you have some now?”

Wayne stared at her, a look of contempt and hatred deep in his gaze. Not breaking eye contact, he took a sip. “It's delicious,” he said, grimacing.

“I don't buy it,” Y/n sneered. “You're making the same face you made when you found a chocolate chip in your trail mix!” She shook her head. “Something's up. I'm patting you down,” she decided. “Though I hope it’s not weird though, work dad. It’s just for the heist.”

“Of course,” Wayne nodded and held out his arms.

Y/n patted him down quickly and swore. “Fuck, nothing but a surprisingly toned set of abs!”

Wayne raised a brow. “And why would I have the crown, L/n? Isn't it still in the interrogation room?”

Y/n put her hands on her hips. “Yes. Yes. Of course. Of course it's still in there!” She sucked in a breath and conceded, ”Welp, I guess I'll see you at midnight.”

“After you.”

“No, after you,” Y/n smiled tightly.

“I insist.”

Y/n glowered and moved past time, triggering the witch again.

Later, Dick met up with Wayne in his office again. “You drank a soda? I’m not sure that's the worst thing in the world.”

Wayne shook his head and looked at Dick like he was delusional. “It was the worst thing in the world... worse than a fruit-forward Riesling.“ He held up a hand to stop Dick from speaking. “And no, I'm not exaggerating. Anyway, I cleverly ditched the crown in a trash can. We must wait a moment so as to not arouse suspicion when we retrieve it.”

“Got it.” Dick moved towards the door then looked back at his capitan and snickered. “Hey... while I'm in there, should I get you a soda?”

“I know you're joking, but on the off chance you aren't… No.”

“The handlebar thing was fake,” Cass announced as she marched back into the bullpen. ”They were trying to distract me. I think they made a play for the crown.”

“I thought so too, but I had my hand on the cabinet the whole time, so I'm pretty confident there's no way they could have gotten it.” Y/n said before opening the drawer to reveal an empty cabinet. “They got it.”

“Look at the back.” Cass squatted and pointed to the cabinet. “The screws are loose.”

“Damn it.” Y/n slammed her fist on her desk. “That son of a bitch is good.”

“Sir, we have a problem.” Dick rushed back into Wayne’s office. “The crown wasn't in the trash can. Y/n must have taken it back.”

“Damn it.” Wayne slammed his fist on his desk. “That son of a bitch is good.”

“We have to get that crown back!” Y/n exclaimed. “I already changed my email to "queeny/nrulez" with a z. Everyone's going to think I'm an idiot!”

“Hello, L/n,” Wayne glared at his detective.

“Captain,” Y/n greeted stoically. “Midnight nears.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Tick tock.”

“Tick tock indeed.”

“But tick tock for who?” Y/n hissed.

“It's ‘for whom.’” Wayne corrected.

“Don't try to provoke me!” Y/n cried out.

At the same time, both captain and detective declared, “I'm going to get that crown back!”

“Wait... what?” Y/n paused and squinted at Wayne.

“Huh?” Wayne shook his head. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

“Yes, I too need to be excused,” Y/n stuttered.

Y/n pushed Cass into the briefing room and whispered sharply, “he doesn't have the crown! Cass, what do we do?”

“Pull the security tape,” she decided.

Damian stepped back into the interrogation room after Dick had informed him of the events. “Richard said you stole the crown when Y/n came through the ceiling,” he hummed.

“Yeah, I can't believe you fell for that,” Steph shrugged. ”You really think I'd mark the wrong vent? I've never marked a wrong vent in my life!”

“You're incredibly intense about vents,” Damian commented. He paused and then said, “wait... so Jon wasn't a distraction?”

“No, he was very real. Handsome, cool, hair as thick as a collie's. I found you the perfect guy, and you drove him off,” Steph said.

“Ugh.” Dami’s head fell into his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. Please call him and tell him I messed up.”

“Yay!” Steph squealed.

“Alright,” Y/n and Cass poured over the security tape. “Here I am taking pictures with Dick’s kids.” She sighed and said lovingly, “man, I look so cool standing next to them. Should I have Jason’s kids?” Jason lifted his head up from the next-door table and groaned questioningly. “Go back to sleep, love,” Y/n reached over and patted his head.

“Okay. It's Wayne.” Cass watched as Bruce tumbled through the window and extracted the crown. “Whoa, how did he do that?”

“Man has an insane set of abs,” Y/n explained. “Oh, look, he's got the crown. And he's headed to the break room.”

“He dumped it in the trash,” Cass narrated, exhaling. She fast forwarded the video. “Did he go back and get it?”

In the feed, a janitor slumped in the room and pulled the trash bag out before hauling it away. “The janitor came in and grabbed it. But which janitor? Looks like I'm going to have to squint.” Y/n pushed her face close to the computer and glared at the screen. “Her name is Alice… Alice the janitor.” She glanced at the clock and mumbled, “it's eleven p.m. now. Alice's long gone.”

“How are we going to get her home address?”

“Who's the one person you know who sends out holiday cards to every single employee?” Y/n grinned.

“Tim!” Cass shouted out.

“What do you want, L/n?” Tim didn’t look up from his computer.

“What?” Y/n scoffed and brushed him away. “Why would you assume that I want anything? What I want is to apologise to my bestie, who I hurt.”

“It's ‘whom,’” Tim corrected.

“Why does the word ‘who’ even exist if you're not allowed to say it?!” Y/n huffed. “Anyways, now that I've apologised and you've accepted, can you please give me janitor Alice’s address?”

“This is related to your heist, isn't it?”

Y/n shook her head and stumbled over her words. “No, no. It's- uh, about a crime. I think janitor Alice is... going to kill the president.”

Wayne strolled up to Tim’s desk. “Oh, Drake. There's my protégé.”

Tim took a breath. “Let me guess? You want the janitor's address.”

Wayne looked up at the ceiling and then down to the ground. “Janitor? Address? Alice?”

“I never said her name,” Tim pointed out. He then leaned back in his chair. “Well, isn't this nice? After being excluded by both of you, here I am with the power to decide who wins and who loses your little heist.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” Wayne interrupted. ”You are my wisest detective.”

“Pathetic,” Y/n spat. “He can't be manipulated, sir.” She then turned to Tim and begged, “Tim, we are best friends! I know I usually reserve that title for Steph, but now’s a good time for you to take that, huh?”

“Friendship? Ha.” Wayne gawaffed. “What's friendship compared to the respect of a workplace superior?”

Y/n looked around desperately before bending some on one knee. “Timothy Drake, will you-”

“Excuse me?!” Jason shot up from his desk.

“Enough!” Tim yelled out, silencing everyone. “Pretending to be nice to me is worse than being mean. You know what? You want the address?” He picked up his phone and typed away. “Here, you can both have it.” Both Bruce and Y/n’s phones dinged. “Hope you're happy, you selfish monsters.” He stomped to his feet and slammed the break room door shut.

Y/n groaned and murmured, “I feel terrible. We should apologise.”

“Yes, I agree,” Wane said. “You definitely should now; I'll do mine later.”

“Fat chance!” Y/n snarled. “Steph!” she yelled into her comm. “I need you. Meet me downstairs.”

Y/n, Cass, and Steph stood on the front steps to a tall apartment building, glaring up at it. “Okay, she lives on the sixteenth floor,” Y/n announced. “I think we beat Wayne here.”

“Or did you?” Their Captain appeared behind them, Dick and Damian in tow.

“I'll get the elevator,” Steph offered. When she noticed the ‘Out of Order’ sign, she cried out, “Shit! Looks like we're taking the stairs.”

“Alright, it's sixteen floors,” Cass breathed out. “Pace yourselves.”

Wayne’s team dashed ahead of them and Y/n screamed, “Forget it. Run as fast as you can!”

After a gruelling sixteen floors, Y/n pushed Wayne out of the way and slammed her fist into Alice’s door. “Ha ha! I win. I knocked first.” The door opened and an old woman greeted them. “You're not Alice…” Y/n said.

“You're looking for Alice?” The old woman asked. “She’s having a cigarette on the roof.”

“The roof?” Wayne grimaced.

Y/n burst through the roof door and panted, “yes. I did it. I… I am the greatest- holy shit that’s a lotta stairs- the greatest athlete in the world.” She leaned over and promptly vomited as the rest of the six-six trouped up after her.

“Alice? Alice?” Wayne looked around. “Where's Alice?”

Y/n glanced up to see a woman standing by the edge of the roof. “Oh, there she is. There she is! I did it! I did it!”

Wayne stared at Y/n, disgusted. “Good God.” He shook his head before turning back to the woman. “Are you Alice the janitor?”

“Nope. I'm your worst nightmare.” Alice turned around and took off her cap and the wig sewn into it.

“Tim Drake…” Y/n gasped. “I don't understand what’s happening.”

Tim chuckled deviously, yet before he could speak, Y/n piped up and said, “allow me to explain. Tim and I were ahead of you the whole time.”

“No, you aren’t part of this.” Tim shoved Y/n back towards Wayne. “Get back to the loser side, loser.”

“Worth a shot,” Y/n murmured. “So how'd you pull it off?”

“Y/n, remember when you set off the witch?” Tim asked, lips curled into a smirk. “You made Captain Wayne flinch, which was weird, since his door was closed, but not weird, since he actually heard it over a bug he planted at your desk.” Y/n’s mouth dropped open and Tim continued, “I tapped into the bug's frequencies, so I had ears on Y/n. However, I still needed to know what Wayne was up to. That's where Jason came in.”

Jason stepped out from behind the door, still wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and his nose more red and snotty than ever before. He said in a nasally voice, “I masterminded the entire plan.”

“Jason, you did one small thing and I had to explain it to you forty-five times because you accidentally took NyQuil instead of DayQuil.” Tim shook his head before beginning his speech again. “He left a tiny crack in the blinds so I could read the Captain's lips.”

"Kori and your kids will distract Y/n. They'll be here at nine-thirty sharp. My waffle xylophone on the cheese man."

“What?” Wayne asked incredulously.

“My lip-reading is not flawless,” Tim admitted. “Now that I knew your plan, it was simple to disrupt. After I got into character, Wayne triggered the witch, which brought Y/n into the room.”

“And I threw the crown in the trash can…” Wayne nodded along.

“Exactly as I planned,” Tim grinned. “Then I sent you all here, placed an out-of-order sign on the perfectly functional elevator, made you all walk up thirty-one flights of stairs, and vomit.”

Y/n grumbled and muttered, “actually, it was three times, if you count all the stairwell stuff.”

“I'm my own person, capable of making my own decisions, and I decided to humiliate you both,” Tim finished his speech.

“One last question: where's the crown?” Wayne asked.

“Oh, it's at Orin’s Bar, the official site of my coronation.”

Tim strode into the bar, decked out in a royal cape and sash. Wayne held up the crown and declared, “all hail the crown of destiny.” The precinct cheered as their capitan concluded, “and all hail who wear it, Tim Drake, the ruler of the six-six.”

“And I believe there's something else you both need to say,” Tim snarked.

Both Bruce and Y/n said, “Tim Drake is an amazing detective-slash-genius.”

“Drinks are on us!” Wayne shouted. Y/n shook her head and he corrected himself. “Drinks are on me.”

“Heyyyyyy Y/n…” Jason sniffed as Y/n helped him through the door of his apartment. “I forgot to tell you but I think I broke up with Rose.”

“You think?” Y/n chuckled. “How about you tell me when you’re not hyped up on meds?”

“I will.” Jason fell down onto his bed. “I’ll also tell you I love ya.”

Y/n stilled and flushed. “O-oh? Really?”

“Yeah.” Jason sniffed once more before falling asleep, snoring loudly.

Y/n swallowed before leaning down and kissing his forehead. His fever had finally broken. “I’m gonna make you some soup,” she whispered, “and you better eat it tomorrow. I already told Wayne that you’re not coming into work tomorrow, so don’t you dare try to pull another stunt like today.” She moved out of his room and before Y/n closed the door, she smiled softly. “I love you too, Jason Todd.”

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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archangeldyke-all · 11 months ago

Note

I am. That- amab sev ceo request😳fucking hell 👀

Would you…possibly … feel comfortable ……………. Telling us abot that first ✨dicking down✨ as you called it - in sev‘s office?

Just thinking about sev getting hard against reader is….fuck

heheehehe i'd be happy to ;)

men and minors dni

you've got your legs sprawled over sevika's lap, both of you sitting on the couch. it's been hours, and at this point, you're doing more gossiping than work.

"y'know chloe and seamus are fucking?" you ask. sevika chokes on her sip of whiskey.

"i thought seamus was gay!" she coughs out. you laugh and sit up to pound her back.

"so did i." you admit. sevika laughs. "it's gonna be a mess when they break up." you say.

"maybe they won't." sevika says with a shrug. you laugh.

"you don't believe that." you say. sevika giggles guiltily.

"no, i don't." she admits. "well, what about you, are you hookin' up with anyone in the office?" sevika asks. you laugh and roll your eyes, flopping back down on your back on the couch.

"i fuckin' wish." you sigh at the ceiling. sevika hums.

"yeah? you gotta crush on someone?" she asks. you bite your lip. you do have a crush on someone in the office, that someone being the woman you're currently draped across, your boss, and your best friend. the worst part is that sevika already knows this. she's caught you staring one too many times for it to be platonic, she's constantly making you trip over your words, and behind closed doors, she's always got her hands on you. you glare at her and she giggles. "what?" she asks. you roll your eyes and kick her thigh.

"you know what, asshole." you mumble. sevika snickers.

"you're lucky you're cute, you know, otherwise i'd fire you for that kinda language." she teases. you huff.

"please, you'd be miserable without me." you say. sevika smiles because she knows you're right, her thumb drawing circles around your ankles.

you guys have been dancing around each other for weeks now. sevika's no more subtle than you are, biting her lip when she looks at you, fucking you with her eyes from across the room. (sometimes you catch her subtly shifting in her seat or holding her briefcase over her crotch, adjusting the slight bulge in her pants. you get dizzy each time.) you're both hesitant to act on the mutual attraction simmering between the two of you, with sevika being your boss. but tonight, you think something might be changing. especially with the way sevika's hand is slowly, slowly working up your leg.

"i would be." sevika says. "you're like the best thing about this place, y'know." she says. you smile.

"sounds like you got a bit of an office crush, sev." you tease her. she grins.

"what if i do?" she asks. her hand's on your knee now, tracing circles over your dress slacks. you bite your lip.

"well, i'd say buy her dinner, but you already did that." you say, gesturing to the open cartons of chinese food on the table beside you. sevika chuckles.

"so what should i do now?" she asks.

"depends." you say. sevika smirks.

"on what?"

"...what're your thoughts on office sex?" you ask, blinking your eyelashes flirtatiously.

five minutes later, sevika's got you pinned to her desk, your pants and underwear around your ankles as she fucks your squelching cunt with three fingers. your thighs are shaking, and you're drooling down onto the paperwork below you. sevika's still clothed, rutting her hard cock against your thigh. she's big, hence her three fingers.

"f-fuck i'm ready!" you whine. sevika chuckles.

"no you're not. still so fuckin' tight. don't wanna hurt you, baby." she grunts. you shiver.

"sevika!" you demand. "c'mon please! i wanna cum on your cock." you whine. sevika shudders behind you, smacking your ass with her free hand.

"fuck, y' can't just say shit like that!" she whines. you grin and arch your back, pressing your ass against her trapped cock. she groans. "asshole!" she curses you. you giggle.

"i've seen the way you look at me." you whisper against her desk. "i know you've been wantin' me. waiting for this. how many times'd you think about this, huh baby?" you ask. sevika sucks in a harsh breath behind you.

"too many to count." she whispers. you grin.

"so take those fuckin' pants off and show me what you've been wanting to do to me already."

sevika smacks your ass again and pulls her fingers out of your cunt. you miss the stretch, but you don't whine, especially not when you hear the clinking of her belt coming undone.

when her cock springs free, it smacks your ass. you groan. you haven't gotten a good look at it, but you can feel it, heavy and thick and throbbing against you. sevika's slowly grinding against you, making sweet little huffs with each thrust. you shake your ass against her.

"fuck me, sev." you demand. sevika hums, gently sliding the head of her cock through your folds. you nearly pass out when she bumps your clit.

"you're so fuckin' wet-- i wasn't the only one thinkin' about this, was i baby?" she asks. you smile against her desk.

"been thinkin' 'bout this since our second interview." you admit. sevika chuckles as she gently guides her cock inside you. you shiver as her head breaches you. she's fucking thick, and she was probably right that you weren't ready, but you've had four or five glasses of whiskey and you're so turned on you're going to pass out and sevika's whimpering behind you, so you don't really give a fuck.

"shit i'm not gonna last." she whispers as she slowly inches inside of you. you hum happily.

"'s long as 'y cum inside me i'll be happy." you tease. sevika shudders.

"fuck off!" she groans as she smacks your ass again. you laugh.

"no? 'y don't wanna fill me up? watch it drip back outta me? get me knocked up?" you tease her. sevika's grip on your hips is bruising, and you'd bet your life savings she's got her face scrunched up with her lip between her teeth.

"i'm tryna take it slow, shut the fuck up!" she grunts. you laugh.

"we can do slow some other time. tomorrow. or tonight, when you take me home after this."

"oh, 's that's what's happening?" she asks. you smile and nod.

"better be." you say. she chuckles as her hips meet your ass, her cock buried deep inside of you. she leans down to kiss your neck.

"course it is." she whispers. you grin, and sevika kisses your cheek, before she stands back up and starts fucking you with brutal, fast thrusts. you scream.

"fuck! yes, yes yes, just like that, sev, fuck!" you wail.

behind you, sevika's grunting with each snap of her hips. her cock's rubbing against your g-spot, and you know you're dripping around her from the disgusting wet sounds your cunt's making. you're grateful that she's pinned you to her desk, because your knees are jelly and you'd have collapsed onto the floor without the support of the oak slab beneath you.

"you feel so fucking good, holy shit." sevika moans. you gasp at her words. "fuck, please tell me you're close." she whimpers. you would laugh at the desperate tone of her voice if you weren't so busy moaning.

"s-so close." you whimper. sevika snakes one of her hands around you to start rubbing at your clit and you jolt beneath her. "oh shit sev, i'm gonna--"

"yeah, c'mon. on my cock baby, we can cum at the same time." she says, her voice shaky. your eyes roll back into your skull.

"sev, sev, sev, oh fuck, sevika, just like that, fuckin' love you, shit!" you gasp as sevika collapses on top of you, her cock filling you up with spurt after spurt of her hot cum. sevika's taking shaky breaths against you, kissing your neck before biting your earlobe.

"love you too, baby." she whispers as her cock continues to spill inside you. fuck, you hadn't even realized you'd let the words slip in your fucked out state until she said them back, and now that she has, you're cumming around her cock harder than you ever have before. sevika whimpers as your cunt convulses around you, milking her cock, and she sinks her teeth against your throat to hide her whines.

you're pretty sure you cum so hard you black out, because one minute you're on sevika's desk, twitching beneath her as she crushes you with her weight, and the next, she's pulling you into her arms and settling you down on the couch, kissing your face and rubbing your back. you hum against her.

"you okay?" she asks. you giggle.

"better than ever." you reply. sevika giggles and kisses your forehead.

"lemme take you home." she says. "you're gonna love my bed." you grin against her.

"okay. but... just hold me a few more minutes." you say. she laughs and tightens her grip around you. "'m sorry i said 'i love you' for the first time while you were balls deep in me." you say. sevika laughs.

"i'm not. i'm pretty sure i saw god." she says. you laugh.

"i do, you know." you say.

"you do what?" she asks.

"love you."

"hmm... you're sure it's not 'cause i'm paying you?" she teases. you laugh and pinch her side.

"i'm sure. if i loved you for that wage, i'd be a fuckin' horrible gold-digger." you tease her back. she giggles and smacks your ass.

"you're paid better than anyone else on this floor!" she says. you grin.

"yeah, i think my boss' got a crush on me or somethin'." you tease. sevika smiles.

"i think it's a little more than a crush." she says. you lift your head up to press a kiss to her lips.

"yeah?" you whisper against her. she smirks and nods.

"yeah." she says.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut

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