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mostly-imagines · 3 months ago

Text

Careless Accidents

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed

warnings: reader’s wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed to hard

You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.

You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like they’re in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.

Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.

“Hey,” Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. “We’re doing alright for ourselves,” she said smugly.

“Yeah,” you’d nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did.

“Okay listen, I think the flag—” what flag? “—is by the fountain so, I think because there’s three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.”

“We’re on teams?” you asked, no longer completely sure you know what you’re playing.

“We are now!” she smiled, starting to run. “I’ll bait!”

She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, “Don’t trust Cass,” before scurrying away.

Rather than sit around and wait there for…something?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.

What you didn’t see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear.

What you also didn’t see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. You’d mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.

Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.

“Are you okay?” she signs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

The response was instinctual and you didn’t actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it.

You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. They’re savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern.

“You good?” Tim asked, approaching languidly.

“That looked like it hurt,” Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.

Dick shook his head, “No, she’s okay.” He turned to you, prodding, “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m, um…” you winced, looking at your wrist. “It hurts a little.”

Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. “It might be sprained.”

Dick paled.

“No.”

Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, “We can get it wrapped upstairs.”

“No.”

You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanie’s face, begging to break.

“Ooooh. He’s gonna kill you.”

Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.

“You know I didn’t mean to grab you that hard right? I—”

Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dick’s now-third explanation/apology for the incident.

“I know, Dick,” you say, trying to appease him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you genuinely, but you can tell there’s more there that he isn’t verbalizing.

You nod, “I know, Dick. It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that she’s all done.

You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.

He takes a deep breath, “What if…what if you avoid him until it heals?”

“Dick.”

He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes,

He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing for bad news.

You shake your head sympathetically, “No. I can’t guarantee you that he won’t find out, but I won’t tell him.”

Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. “Okay. Okay.” He stands, “I need to go.”

You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically.

Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.

“I’ll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.”

Tim barks out, “Absolutely not.” He looks at his brother, still laughing. “No fucking way.”

Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. “Five.”

A deadpan from Tim.

“You don’t have five thousand dollars.”

Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. “Dude, please! He’ll kill me!”

Tim scoffs, “He’d kill me!”

Dick huffs, “No, it’s different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?”

“Well then it sounds like you fucked up,” Tim sneers.

“Oh my God.”

He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?

He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.

The latter sits up with a tense brow, “Master Dick?”

The former turns around in his seat, “What’s the matter?”

Dick struggles for a second before confessing, “I accidentally sprained someone's wrist.”

Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. “Alright…you’ll have to take responsibility for their patrol duties—”

Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, “Said person doesn’t have any patrol duties to be affected...”

Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.

“I can’t help you.”

Dick’s panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.

Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, “You don’t think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?”

“I—I don’t know!” Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know what to do!”

Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, “Dick, when you make a mistake…you have to submit to the consequences, you know that.”

Dick gapes, “This is not a normal consequence!”

Meanwhile, you’ve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jason’s childhood bedroom.

You’re admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you.

“Sweetheart?” Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.

“Hey, Jay,” you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you.

Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back.

You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. “How’s the bike?”

“Better than it was this morning,” he sighs. “Where’ve you been?”

He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you.

You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. “Uh, we were outside, playing…at least three separate games at once.”

The second you’re in proximity, your hands join like it’s second nature.

He nods, all too familiar with the family’s unique methods of gamefair.

“Did th—” He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. “What happened?”

You glance down, shrugging. “Overexerted myself playing tag.”

He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.

He turns your hand over gently, asking, “Is it sprained?”

You nod, relaxed. “Yeah. Cass said it’s mild.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. “Barely hurt then.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied with the conversation.

Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt.

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?” he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following.

“Yeah,” you say gaily. “Alfred said he’s making his ‘special spaghetti’, apparently it’s a household favorite?”

He wavers, halfway to between decisions. “Yeah…”

He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. “Can I see it?”

You nod, happy to ease his mind.

You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.

You both see it at the same time—the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.

You’re both quiet for a second—him putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.

He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.

“Fucking idiot—”

You try for his hand but he’s out of reach before you can grab it.

“I’ll be right back,” he grumbles behind him.

“Jason—” you sigh, “At least help me wrap it back up first.”

He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.

You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. “It was just an accident,” you tell him.

He scoffs, “It better have been.”

You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. “Jason. I’m not made of glass, you can’t expect other people to act like it.”

“I don’t. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he can’t do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

You sigh, “Just don’t do anything harsh. Please. I think he’s worried you’re gonna punch him.”

“He should be,” he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly.

You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, “You’re not going to. Right?”

He doesn’t answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, “Right?”

His eyes roll, “Yeah, fine.”

You smile, holding his face. “I love you.”

He huffs as though he’s inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. “I love you.”

He looks you in the eye, face serious. “You promise me it doesn’t hurt?”

“I promise,” you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.

“Dick!”

The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.

He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes.

“Where is he?”

Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding.

Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.

He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. “Stephanie?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But let me know when you find him, I wanna see—”

But Jason’s moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.

He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.

There’s a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what they’re seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail.

“Really? Really?” Jason shouts.

“It was an accident! It was a fucking—”

He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.

“Are you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherf—”

Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.

Dick takes a breath, “Dude, it’s fine now, it’s not that big of a—”

Jason recoils, “‘It’s not a big deal’? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!”

He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him.

Dick throws his hands up in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?”

Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. “You can’t call a truce if you’re the only one who did anything wrong.”

“I…” It doesn’t take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option.

“Please?” Dick asks, nothing short of imploring.

Jason relents—slightly—upon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as he’d been planning to.

“I told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hard—”

Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. “I know, I know—”

“Clearly you fucking don’t!” Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. “You sprained her wrist. You’ve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?”

Dick grimaces, “I do! I do, I just screwed up, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t—” Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, “Did you apologize to her?”

“Yeah, of course I did!”

For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body.

The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.

It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, “Idiot,” before pushing him once more.

“Jason.”

Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption.

You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.

He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.

“I didn’t hit him.”

⭐️ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch ⭐️

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sloaneispunk · 21 days ago

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“mr. steal your girl”

jealous!in-ho x you

as thanos’ side piece during the games, you were garunteed safety. but in-ho didn’t like the idea of you being someone elses.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

“señorita excuse me.”

you turned around.

“join our team.”

oh, god. in front of you stood a bright purple haired man, his goons crowding around him.

“why should i?” you scoffed.

“because a girl like you can’t survive in a place like this.”

he was right and you knew it. you’ve seen how badly he’s treated members of his team, but what choice did you have? beggars can’t be choosers.

from then on, you stuck with thanos. in the first two games, he stayed true to his word, taking you under his wing.

although you felt protected, you didn’t feel safe. you knew that thanos would turn his back on as soon as something bigger came up.

unbeknownst to you, in-ho had been keeping watch. he brought the sitaution up in any conversation he could have.

“you see that girl there? player 009?” he would point out to gi-hun as he watched you.

“yeah, what about her?”

“she’s not gonna last long with those shitheads.”he could feel the rage bubbling inside him as thanos draped his hands over you, pulling you closer as he talked to his minions.

“why do you care so much? i’m sure she’ll be okay.” gi-hun would reply, shaking it off like it was no big deal.

but to in-ho it was.

he couldn’t sit there and watch whilst you got used by a man like thanos. you were so sweet, you deserved to be protected by someone that actually had the heart and skills to.

him.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

during meal time, in-ho sat back and observed.

“you, come here. cut the line, you can take whatever you want.” thanos sneered as he dragged you to the front of the line.

“but i don’t want to.” you said softly, looking at the line of innocent, starved people behind.

“jesus.” he sighed, shoving you aside causing you to stumble.

as if on queue, in-ho appeared in front of you, pulling thanos aside.

he had enough.

“did your mother never teach you something called respect?” he spat as thanks regained his posture.

“who are you? you got a new boyfriend, girl? this old man?” thanos sneered, pointing to you. you could feel your face heating up from embarrassment as everyone stopped to stare.

“hey, i’m talking to you. look at me, not her.” he said sternly as thanos rolled his eyes.

“look, we’re fine, why don’t you go back, sit down, and eat your food, old man. i-”

in-ho wasted no time, punching him in the gut before he could finish.

then, nam-gyu stepped up, throwing back a punch. as if it weren’t embarrassing for them enough, he proceeded to miss every single one of his punches, in-ho retaliating by knocking them down easily.

as the two men cowered on the ground, in-ho went up to you.

“are you okay?” he asked, taking your arm to inspect.

“yeah… thanks.”

“come.”

“ah! it’s that girl he keeps talking about!” jung-bae exclaimed as you joined in-ho in the little circle the team had made.

in-ho nudged jung-bae’s shoulder, silencing him as you took a seat beside him.

“do you have enough to eat?” in-ho asked you, looking at what was left in your box.

“oh, yes, it’s more than enough thank you-”

“here, take this.” he interrupted, giving you half of his food.

“thank you.” you lightly chuckled as the team watched with their mouths wide open.

“hey, he never gives us his food! he’s made it clear he’s very protective of it!” dae-ho complained causing everyone to laugh.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

not too long after, it was lights out.

the team returned back to their own beds and so did you.

“señorita, come back to me. you’re no use to those guys.” thanos said as he jogged up to your bed.

you could feel yourself getting physically sick as he got nearer.

before you could answer, in-ho came to your side.

“darling, is this man bothering you?” he asked. you could tell that just from that, thanos was intimidated.

he let out a string of mumbles under his breath and accepted defeat.

“sorry, i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable. i was just trying to scare him off.”

“can you stay here? just for tonight?” you asked with tears suddenly flooding your eyes, taking him aback as he crouched down to meet your eyes. “what if they come back?”

his gaze softened. “no one’s going to harm you, okay? i’ll stay here tonight, you just worry about getting rest.” he said, using his thumb to wipe away a tear.

“i never got your name.” you told him, making him chuckle.

“young-il… what’s yours?”

“y/n… thank you young-il.”

in-ho could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. his ‘name’ sounded different coming from your lips, he liked it.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

the next day, the atmosphere was rigid. every player afraid of what was to come for the next game.

in-ho had insisted on giving you his breakfast as he wasn’t hungry. when you protested, he came up with some imaginary excuse on how it’ll help you win the games.

in-ho had charm, you couldn’t deny. but what made you so attracted to him was how sincere he was.

you didn’t feel as though you were a piece of arm candy, you could feel his geniune kindness whenever he talked to you.

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── ❍ Δ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆

as the game was introduced to everyone, mingle, you played with your hands nervously as thanos and his team tried to get your attention.

“ignore them.” in-so simply said, not even turning to look at them. “stay close.”

when the game started, in-ho made sure you stuck to him. to be frank, he didn’t care for the rest of the team.

however, on the third round of the game, players started acting irrationally, pushing and shoving each other to secure a room before anyone else could.

the stakes were getting higher.

when the lights started flashing a blinding stroke of blue and red, you felt an arm yank you away from in-ho. you called out for him, catching his attention right away.

“we got her, let’s go!” thanos shouted as he attempted to drag you into a room with him and the team.

in-ho was fuming, pushing pasd everyone in his way, his charged at thanos.

if you hadn’t had stopped him, all of you would have been as good as dead.

you had 10 seconds left, “young-il! we need to go now!” you shouted, breaking up the two men.

before he was pulled away from thanos, he spat on him, leaving him on the ground once again as the two of you locked yourself in a room.

“are you hurt?” he asked as soon as the door closed. you shook your head ‘no’. “gosh, he pisses me off.”

“yeah, you and me both.” you agreed, slumping down onto the floor beside him.

“i need you to stay with me… that was too close y/n. who knows what could have happened if you were trapped inside with him?” he lightly scolded.

“i know…i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault okay? i just don’t want to lose you.” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

the game resumed afterwards, not sparing anyone a break. but in-ho knew one thing, he wasn’t going to let you go after the game, he wanted you all for himself.

#frontman #frontman x reader #frontman x you #hwang inho #inho x reader #inho x you #squid game #squidgame season 2 #lee byung hun #lee byung hun x you #lee byung hun x reader

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 month ago

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Built A Fire Just To Keep Me Warm

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers

Synopsis: you and Peter are in the same friend group but never got along. That doesn’t keep him from making sure you never get cold

Masterlist

“Guys, why is it so damn cold in here?” You groaned and rubbed your arms up and down. The thought of sitting in your lecture class for the next hour with your professor with the dullest voice imaginable somehow made you even colder.

“I told you to layer up.” MJ shrugged. “But you never want to listen during layer talk. You know this guy always cracks the AC.”

“I always listen during layer talk.” Ned mumbled and threw his scarf over his shoulder.

You looked at your professor in the front of the room and then up at the vent above you.

“Why though? It’s the middle of December. My arm hairs should not be standing up.” You said and held your arm up for MJ to see.

“Maybe you should wear a jacket.” Peter interjected, making you all look at him.

“What was that?” You asked him. Ned signaled for him to stop talking but Peter had a point to make.

“I was just saying. You know this professor always has the AC on. But you always come to class in thin shirts and then complain that you’re cold.” Peter said. You sat up in your chair so you could fully face Peter and narrowed your eyes at him.

“So?”

“So,” he mimicked your tone, “You know its going to be cold in here. But you still never wear a jacket. Maybe you should put one on next time so you won’t have this problem.”

“And maybe you should mind your business. I wasn’t even talking to you.” You grumbled and slumped down in your chair. Peter watched you rubbing your arms to keep warm and rolled his eyes a little.

“You were talking to the group.” Peter pointed out. “I’m in the group. So it was my business.”

“No, I was talking to MJ.” You stated as your annoyance for him grew.

“You said “guys, why is it so damn cold in here?”. That implies you were asking all of us.” Peter corrected. Ned and MJ exchanged a look as you glared at Peter.

“Okay, but I didn’t say ‘Peter, I’m really cold. Please give me your professional opinion on how to prevent that’. I was just making an observation.”

“But that’s not really an observation though, is it?” Peter asked. “It’s a declarative statement. We were in Linguistics together. I’m surprised you don’t remember that.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Why do you have to be such a know it all?”

“I don’t know. Why do you insist on wearing the flimsiest shirts to class and then complaining that you’re cold?” Peter retorted.

“There’s about to be an active threat in this classroom.” You mumbled under your breath.

“What do you mean?” Ned asked you.

“I mean I’m about to beat Peter up.” You told him.

“Knock it off you two.” MJ warned. “Can you guys go one day without going at each other?”

“Tell Peter that. He started it.” You reminded her.

“I don’t care. I don’t want any bickering at my party tonight.” She said. “It can’t be like Friendsgiving. Because that was giving enemies instead of friends.”

“If you don’t want any fighting then you’ll have to uninvite Peter.” You told her.

“I can’t. He’s the only one with an ID. We need him for the alcohol.” MJ replied.

“I’m right here.” Peter pointed out

“Unfortunately.” You mumbled.

“Speaking of alcohol, I can’t go with him to get it.” Ned cut in. “My Lola has a sixth sense for this kind of thing. If I even look at a bottle of alcohol, she’ll know about it and strike me dead.”

“Then you’re going to have to go with him. I’ll be busy setting up.” MJ told you.

“What?” You whined. “I don’t want to go with him. Why can’t he go alone?”

“Again, right here.” Peter stated and waved his hand.

“Because of the Buddy System.” MJ answered. “Remember when we sent Ned alone to the bodega to get Sun Chips? He almost got kidnapped.”

“The only reason the man didn’t take me was because he thought my choice of chips was disgusting.” Ned whispered.

“That’s valid.” You shrugged. “I wouldn’t kidnap you either.”

“Can you guys just go together this once? For me? For little mixed drink loving old me?” MJ pleaded and held your hand to her heart.

“Fine.” You sighed and rubbed your hands up and down your arms. Peter watched you doing this and then looked up at the vent above you.

“Don’t act so excited about it.” Peter mumbled to you.

“I’m not.” You scoffed and gave him a look.

“I was being sarcastic.”

“So was I.” You said as Peter got up out of his seat.

“Where are you going?” You asked him.

“To pee. Is that allowed?” He sassed you.

“Go piss girl.” Ned called after Peter as he walked down the steps of the lecture room, earning many stares from other classmates.

“Ned, no.” MJ whispered. “That’s not relevant anymore.”

“Oh shit. Um, mama a hawk tuah diva behind you?” Ned asked to try and fix his mistake.

“Just stop while you’re ahead.” MJ replied with a pat on his knee. She then turned to you with a devious smile.

“Peter totally likes you.” She whispered.

“What?” You laughed. “No he doesn’t. We’re barely even friends. I only tolerate him since he’s friends with Ned. And I mess with Ned heavy.”

Just then, Peter came back from the bathroom and stopped at the professors desk. You watched them curiously but you couldn’t hear what they were saying. When Peter walked away from the desk, your professor went over to the thermostat and turned the AC off. You felt the vent above you stop spewing cold air just as Peter came back to where you were all sitting. He didn’t look at you but his cheeks were pink as he sat down. MJ and Ned hadn’t noticed what happened so you leaned over to him to whisper.

“Why did you do that?” You asked him.

“You said you were cold.” He shrugged, still without looking at you.

“So? Why do you care if I’m cold?”

“I don’t. I was cold too. Not everything’s about you.” He said quickly. You decided to drop it but you found the interaction strange.

Later that day, you and Peter kept a distance between you as you walked towards the nearest corner store. You had your arms folded to keep your hands warm and Peter was fighting the urge to comment on your lack of preparation for the cold.

“Do you have the list?” You asked Peter as you neared the store.

“I do. But it just says “alcohol” so we’re going in blind.” He answered. You couldn’t help but laugh at MJ’s lack of instructions as you rubbed your arms up and down. Peter noticed this and was about to offer his jacket when you reached the store. Instead, he held the door for you and you smiled in surprise.

“Thanks. Let’s just get what we need and get out of here.” You said, feeling awkward now as you walked past him into the store. You were never really alone with him so you weren’t expecting him to be so civil. You split up and went down each isle to collect a few token party items. As you browsed, you kept feeling Peter’s eyes on you but you never looked up to check.

“They don’t have MJ’s favorite vodka here. She’s gonna kill us if we don’t come back with it.” Peter came up to you to tell you.

“Damn. We could try the store two blocks down. They usually have it.”

“All right. Let’s go.” Peter said and nodded towards the door. As you started to walk to the next store, the frigid New York air hit you and sent a chill through your entire body. You shuddered and blew hot air on your hands before holding your arms to keep warm.

“Are you cold?” Peter asked you.

“Of course I’m cold. It’s brick out here.”

“How come you never wear a jacket if you’re always cold?” He asked. He didn’t sound accusatory, just curious.

“Because I thought we were just running to the store by the dorms. I didn’t think I’d need one.” You replied. Peter fought every instinct in his body that told him to stay silent and unzipped his jacket.

“Take mine.” He offered and held it out to you.

“What?” You laughed in surprise. “No way.”

“Come on. Don’t be stubborn. You’re freezing. Just take it.”

“I’m not taking your jacket. I’m fine.” You insisted and continued to shiver.

“Just take the damn jacket.” He sighed and put it over your shoulders. You wanted to be stubborn, but you more so wanted to be warm. You gave him a look and slipped your arms into his jacket. You instantly felt better and smiled a little at your new protection from the cold. Peters jacket hung a little big on you but kept you perfectly warm.

“Thank you.” You said timidly. “But aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.” He waved his hand. “I run hot.”

You had reached the next store by that point and he opened the door for you once again. You flashed him a quick smile and went inside to get the drinks for MJ. You found it quickly and joined him at the cash register.

You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around you as you walked back to the dorms together. He felt better now that he wasn’t watching you freeze to death and you felt better now that you were safe from the bitter wind. You dropped Peter off at the boys dorm before going back to yours and MJs room. As soon as you walked in, you were hit with a familiar scent that made you suspicious. You looked around the dorm until you found what you were looking for.

“Oh, hey. You’re back.” MJ smiled when she found you.

“What’s this?” You asked and pointed to the mistletoe taped to the ceiling of the kitchen.

“Nothing.” MJ said quickly. “It’s basil.”

“You have basil taped to the ceiling?” You asked skeptically.

“I’m Italian.” She shrugged.

“No you’re not. I’ve eaten pasta you’ve made. It was like chewing a pen cap. There’s no Italian in that blood.”

“You got me. It’s mistletoe.” She admitted. “Arranged beautifully due to my floral arrangement class, may I add. I hung it incase you wanted to kiss any boys tonight.”

“I knew it. You’re still trying to set me up with Peter. It’s never going to work so give up now. Now matter how much basil you hang up.” You said and snatched the mistletoe down.

“You fight it but my lesbian instincts tell me that you guys are meant to be.” MJ said and held her hands up in defense. “And you better hang that back up because that was my only bushel of mistletoe.”

“The same lesbian instincts that made us get on that bus to Long Island? I can never un-go to Long Island, MJ. You did that to us.”

“It was dark. All the buses looked the same.” She defended herself. “But trust. My instincts are right about this one.”

“They’re not.” You stated. “I don’t like Peter like that. I don’t even like him as a friend.”

“Okay. Sure. I believe you. Nice jacket, by the way.” She smirked before walking away. You looked down and remembered you were wearing Peter’s beat up winter jacket. You quickly followed her into the kitchen area to continue the conversation.

“That doesn’t mean anything. I was cold.”

“Yeah. I bet he was too. Especially after he gave you his jacket.” She said smugly.

“He said he runs hot.” You insisted.

“Yeah. Hot for you. Ayo.” She grinned and held up her hand for a high five.

“That’s not getting a high five.” You said flatly. “There better not be any more surprises. Don’t try to intervene tonight, okay? Peter and I would never work.”

“I thought you said you and Peter would never happen. Now you’re saying it just wouldn’t work? Sounds like someone’s having a change of heart.” MJ clicked her tongue as she finished setting up for the party.

You rolled your eyes at her and didn’t respond as you helped her put out snacks. While setting a bowl of chips out on the table, you caught a whiff of Peter’s cologne coming off the jacket. You instinctively smiled at the scent before you caught yourself. You had never thought about it before, but now that MJ put the idea in your head, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a deeper reason that you and Peter never got along.

An hour later, the party was in full swing. You made your rounds and greeted people as you filled their cups up some more. You would never admit it, but you were a little disappointed to not see Peter in the crowd yet. MJ noticed you searching the room every so often and took a place by your side.

“Looking for Peter?” She asked with a smug expression.

“What? No. Like I care if that doink shows up. I’m looking for Ned. He’s supposed to bring the…. Sun Chips.” You lied to cover up what you were really doing.

“Right, right. Of course. And how do you feel about Sun Chips?” She asked sarcastically.

“I need some air.” You said quickly and walked away from her. To get away from the crowd, you went out to your room and crawled out the window to sit on the roof. You hugged Peter’s jacket tightly around yourself and stared up at the night sky. The sound of the party coming through your open window sounded a million miles away. You drew your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them as the cold wind sent a chill through your body.

“Hey.” You heard behind you, making you turn around. You saw Peter coming through your bedroom window and come join you on the roof. You got a new feeling in your chest as he sat beside you.

“Hey.” You smiled softly at him. He returned the smile before an awkward silence settled between the two of you. You didn’t know how to interact after he was nice to you on your trip to the store.

“Thanks for walking through my bedroom with your dirty converse on.” You said to break the silence.

“Like my shoes were the dirtiest thing in that room. I’m pretty sure I saw a rat eating your homework.” He mumbled. You stared at each other as you both tried to read the situation. You were bickering like usual, but there was a playful sense to it this time.

“That’s just our third roommate, dummy.” You replied, adding to the teasing nature of the conversation.

“Ah, I see.” Peter chuckled before looking down shyly. The awkward silence returned but you found yourself hoping he didn’t leave.

“How come you’re out here? You’re not having fun?” He asked after a beat.

“It got a little overwhelming in there. I needed some alone time.”

“Oh, I could go.” He offered and went to stand up.

“You could stay.” You said and stopped him from getting up by placing your hand over his. You watched Peter turn bright red so you quickly withdrew your hand. It was quiet again and you both looked anywhere but each other.

“How come you’re not in there with Ned and all them? Didn’t you just get here?” You asked to break the silence.

“Oh, yeah. Ned and I just got here. But I walked by your room and I saw the window open. I was going to close it until I saw you out here.” He answered a little too quickly.

“Why were you by my room? The party is in the kitchen area.” You wondered. Peter was flushed again and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Were you looking for me?” You asked in a quiet voice. Before Peter could deny the allegations, a gust of wind hit the two of you. You shivered and rubbed your hands together to stay warm.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked you.

“You know what’s wrong.” You said with a slight roll of your eyes. Instead of pointing out that you were purposefully outside on the chilly roof, Peter took both your hands in his. You watched him curiously as he rubbed his hands up and down yours to generate heat. It occurred to you both at the exact same time that this was the first time you’d ever touched. You locked eyes with him and thought he’d let go, but he instead leaned down to blow some hot air on your hands to warm you up.

“Thanks.” You said softly. “That feels better.”

“You’re welcome.” He said in just as timid of a voice. The awkwardness returned and you turned away from each other to avoid it.

“I’m sorry about before. In class, I mean. It was none of my business. You can wear whatever you want.” Peter said after a minute.

“It’s fine.” You waved your hand. “Maybe you kinda sorta possibly had a point. I knew it would be cold. I should’ve worn a jacket. Besides, we always go at each other like that. Don’t be sorry.”

“You’re right. We do always fight.” He agreed. “Do you ever wonder why?”

“Oh, um. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I assumed that’s just how we are.”

“Yeah, it is.” He nodded. “But how did it start? Did we just meet one day and decide we hated each other? I was trying to think about it the other day but I couldn’t remember.”

“Well, I remember MJ telling me she made a friend in her floral arrangement class. Which I told her not to take, by the way.”

“I told Ned the same thing.” Peter sighed. “I said it was a waste of time and credits. He didn’t listen. But he did make me a beautiful bouquet for my birthday.”

“MJ failed so she got me a gift card to Staples.” You replied, making Peter laugh.

“Why Staples?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure she found it on the ground.”

“Did you ever use it?” He asked.

“I did. And guess what I got.”

“Staples?”

“Yep.” You nodded, making him laugh again. You never realized it before, but Peter had the kind of laugh that made you want to say the most random things just to hear it again. His eyes crinkled when he laughed or smiled, another thing you hadn’t noticed before.

“I remember Ned introducing me to MJ, and then MJ introduced me to you. But I don’t remember how our dynamic started and why we fight all the time.”

“Hm.” You hummed. “It’s funny.”

“What is?” He wondered.

“The one time we’re alone together is the one time we’re not fighting.” You pointed out.

“You’re right.” He smiled shyly. “Funny.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward this time. You felt like you were talking to a completely different person than who Peter usually was. This version of Peter didn’t get under your skin or make you roll your eyes. This version was sweet and warmed you up from the cold.

“You kept my jacket.” Peter pointed out, making you flush in embarrassment.

“Oh, you can have it back.” You said and went to take it off.

“No, no. It’s okay. I want you to keep it.” He insisted and pulled it back around you. For extra measure, he zipped it up to your chin before patted both your arms. You smiled at the action and tilted your head down so the jacket would cover your chin.

“It looks better on you anyway.” He added without looking at you. You picked your head up and looked at him but he was busy fussing with the her of his shirt.

“Thanks. It’s really warm.” You said in a soft voice.

“Good. You need it. You’re always cold. And never prepared.”

“We can’t all be hot.” You replied. “Run hot, I mean.”

“Did you just call me hot?” Peter asked with a devious smile.

“Shut up.” You groaned. “You know what I meant.”

“I wish I had your problems. My hands are always sweating because I’m always so hot.” Peter said as he looked at his hands.

“Gross.” You grimaced. “Keep that to yourself.”

Peter looked sad as he didn’t realize you were joking. You found yourself feeling bad that you hurt his feelings despite all the times you intentionally tried to hurt them.

“I was just kidding. Let me feel.” You quickly assured him and took his hand. You ran your fingertips along his palm to see what he was talking about while Peter stayed perfectly still. You let out a soft laugh which sent chills up Peter’s spine.

“What do you think?” He asked in a quiet voice.

“It’s like touching a Swedish fish that’s been in a toddlers hand for too long.” You replied, making him laugh as well.

“Thank you. That was a really lovely description.”

“Seriously, how do you walk around with these things? Do girls ever complain when you hold hands?” You wondered as you slipped your hand into his. He instinctively rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand as the comfortable silence returned. You stayed like that for a moment, holding each others hand on the cold rooftop. The only warmth Peter had was from your hand so he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

“Aha! Holding hands!” MJ suddenly exclaimed from behind you. And was standing in your room and pouting at you through your open window. You turned around and quickly dropped Peter’s hand.

“What? No we’re not.” You scoffed and stood up. Peter felt an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him as you left the roof to follow MJ. It hurt him that you were so quick to drop his hand and deny what was happening, and even quicker to leave him.

“Lesbian instincts.” MJ said as she tapped the side of her head.

“Shut up. We weren’t holding hands.” You insisted as you led her back towards the party.

“I may be a little drunk right now but I know what I saw.” She stated. “And you can’t deny something I saw with my own two eyes.”

“What did she see?” Ned asked as he came to your side.

“Nothing.” You said quickly. “She didn’t see anything.”

“Nothing except her and Peter practically having full on intercourse out on the roof.” MJ replied, making Ned gasp.

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “We were not doing that. We were just holding hands.”

“So you admit it!” She clapped her hands at the confession and nearly fell over.

“Girl, how are you so drunk already?” You asked her. “The party only started an hour ago.”

“Not the point.” MJ held up a hand. “Why were you and Peter holding hands? I thought you hated each other?”

“Peter doesn’t hate her.” Ned laughed like it was ridiculous. You were about to question what made him sound so sure when you realized you had left Peter out on the roof. You left MJ and Ned behind and quickly ran back to your room. The window was shut but Peter was nowhere to be found. Guilt building up in your stomach now, you went back out to the party and searched the crowd for him. When you didn’t see him anywhere, you went back to the kitchen to find Ned.

“Did Peter come in here? I can’t find him.” You asked him.

“You just missed him.” Ned answered. “He said he wasn’t feeling well so we wasn’t going to head back to our dorm.”

“He left?” You asked sadly. You looked at your front door before looking at MJ for help. She tapped the side of your head again and you knew what you had to do.

You ran out to the hall but didn’t see Peter anywhere. The hum of the elevator gave you an idea where he might be. You got to the elevator just in time to see the doors closing. Without thinking, you wedged yourself in between them to get them to open back up. They bounced off either side of your body but opened up enough for you to get inside. Peter caught you as you stumbled in and helped you stand up straight.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” He asked as you held your aching body.

“I think I just went down a cup size.” You wheezed out.

“Why didn’t you just tell me to hold the door?” Peter asked through a laugh.

“There was no time.” You waved your hand. “I had to talk to you. You’re leaving?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not much for parties.” He lied.

“Neither am I.” You told him as you stared into his eyes. He stared back and you could see a sadness in them that you knew was probably your fault.

“Before you go, I just wanted to apologize for before. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “We did look pretty incriminating.”

“We did.” You agreed. “And MJ was thrilled to see it. She has this dumb idea that we only pretend to hate each other to cover up the fact that we like each other.”

“She thinks that? Wow. That’s quite a theory.” Peter said as a blush painted his face a warm pink.

“Right? I don’t know where she gets it.” You shook your head and slid down the wall of the elevator. Peter decided to see the situation out and sat down beside you. Neither of you had pressed any buttons so the elevator stayed in place.

“Ned has a similar theory, actually.” Peter told you. “He thinks I’m totally in love with you and I don’t know how to express it outside of teasing you or making sure you’re warm.”

The silence that followed Peter’s statement was almost more incriminating than the hand holding. In your head, you replayed every time he had done something to keep you warm. Just the week before, Peter had wordlessly dropped a blanket beside you during a movie night at his dorm. Another time, he insisted you drank the tea he brought to class because he decided he didn’t like it anymore but didn’t want it to go to waste.

“Also quite a theory.” You said to break the silence. “But wait, if you run hot, how come your dorm has been perfectly toasty everytime MJ and I came over this winter?”

“It’s not usually like that.” He admitted. “But I take out the space heater when you and MJ come over because I know you get cold easily.”

“Oh. Well thank you.”

“For the teasing?”

“For keeping me warm.” You corrected. Peter flushed again and looked down at his lap.

“It’s all right. Winter will be over in a month. You won’t need me to keep you warm anymore. Then we’ll go back to being enemies.” He said without looking at you. You could hear a sadness in his voice and moved a little closer to him.

“You’re not my enemy. I just never really liked you.” You admitted.

“Yeah. I had a feeling. But how come?” He asked with genuine curiosity.

“Well, because I got the feeling that you never really like me either.” You shrugged. “Once our friend groups merged, you and I were just kinda there. We never really gelled like Ned and I or you and MJ.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” He agreed. “The only times we would talk to each other is when we were fighting or something. That’s the only reason I kept teasing you.”

“Because you wanted to talk to me?” You smiled teasingly. Peter didn’t smile back and just stared into your eyes.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you.” He said quietly. “I never wanted us to fight. But if we didn’t, then we would never talk. And I really, really wanted to talk to you.”

The way you had felt about Peter just that morning had completely changed for the better. You were now hanging on his every word and desperate to hear what he had to say next. You turned a little to face him better and tilted your head to the side.

“What did you want to say?” You asked him. Peter’s eyes darted around your face and eventually landed on your lips.

“That I think you’re really cool. And really pretty. And really smart. Even though you never wear a-“

“Don’t say it.” You cut him off by leaning in the rest of the way and kissing him. Peter turned his body so that he could slip a hand in your hair to kiss you back. He took the chill right out of your bones as he kissed you as if he’d been waiting his entire like to do so. You pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and kissed him until you ran out of breath. He had a dreamy smile on his face when you pulled away. You smiled shyly and sat back down on the elevator floor. Peter started to sniff the air suddenly and looked around.

“Do you smell basil?” He asked. Your smile dropped and you looked up to find the source of the smell. Sure enough, taped to the ceiling of the elevator was a makeshift mistletoe MJ had crafted out of basil and ribbon.

“Freaking lesbian instincts.” You muttered and stood up to snatch the basil down.

Tag list 🏷️ 🧥

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@hallecarey1

@ciarahollands

@nellabella @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker enemies to lovers #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n #peter parker x y/n

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 10 months ago

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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .

cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)

“Simon, I’m home!”

You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.

“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”

You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.

“Stop.”

He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.

Oh no, you’re so fucked up.

“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”

Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.

“Don’t move.”

He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.

“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”

Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.

“Where do you get this?”

“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.

You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.

“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.

“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.

“You think there’s other options?”

“... No.”

“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.

“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”

Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.

His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.

He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.

“Told you to close your eyes, love.”

You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.

“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”

“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.

When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.

You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.

He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.

“It’ll hurt a bit.”

He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.

“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”

He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.

Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.

“Thank you, Si.”

You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.

“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.

“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.

“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.

He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.

“Anything you want now, princess?”

“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”

“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”

Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.

“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”

“Are there other options?”

“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.

Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.

“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.

#cod imagine #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

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solxamber · 3 months ago

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Vice Housewardens + Kalim trying a period simulator

part 1 with overblot gang + adeuce + rollo

I love putting them through this

Trey Clover:

Trey had always been the reliable, grounded guy. Need a cake baked? Trey. Need a shoulder to cry on? Trey. So when you approached him with the suggestion of trying a period pain simulator for "educational purposes," he just adjusted his glasses and said, “Sure, why not?” with his usual level-headedness.

You’d attached the electrodes to his abdomen, and he watched, almost too calmly, as you adjusted the settings. “This isn’t going to be so bad,” he mused. “I mean, how bad could it rea—”

Level 3 hit.

Trey’s entire body stiffened like a poorly baked souffle. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, and his polite smile faltered into something...less composed.

“Okay. Alright. Th-That’s something,” he said, voice tight. His glasses started slipping down the bridge of his nose, and for the first time ever, Trey Clover—the epitome of calmness—looked mildly panicked. “W-Wait, are you sure this is—AH, WHY IS IT IN MY SPINE?”

You snorted as he shot you a look, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

By level 6, Trey was gripping the counter like it was holding him back from the gates of hell. “This is not natural. I’m convinced this is just dark magic. I think the dough is rising inside me.”

When it reached level 9, Trey—calm, responsible Trey—finally broke. “Okay, okay, STOP. I take it back. You are all warriors. I’ll bake you whatever you want for the rest of the week, just please stop.”

With a press of the button, you ended his suffering, and Trey fell back in his chair, gasping for air like he’d just run a marathon. He gave you a weak thumbs-up. “Good... good lesson. I have so much respect for you now. Never again.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Ruggie thought he could handle anything. Growing up in the slums, you learn to survive, right? So when you casually mentioned a period pain simulator, he scoffed. “Psh, it can’t be worse than a day of running around for Leona. Hit me with it.”

Oh, sweet Ruggie. He didn’t know.

You strapped him up, and as the simulator started, he just chuckled. “This is nothin’. I’ve had stomach cramps before. Ain’t gonna—”

Level 4.

Ruggie doubled over, hands on his knees, eyes wide. “H-Hey, what the—ow, ow, OW! Is this what you deal with?!” His voice cracked as his body spasmed.

By level 6, he was on the floor, clutching his stomach. “I’m sorry for everything. For stealing your snacks, for—oh seven, is this my punishment for that time I ate all your donuts?!” He was gasping, rolling on his back, legs kicking in the air like he was trying to outrun the pain.

“Ruggie, I’m only at level 7,” you said, laughing.

Level 9 hit, and that’s when it got wild. “PLEASE! PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! I’LL WASH ALL OF YOUR LAUNDRY. I’LL DO GRIM’S CHORES. JUST TURN IT OFF.”

You finally turned it off, and Ruggie lay there, twitching, face pale. “...I’ll never complain about anything again. Ever.”

Jade Leech:

Jade approached the period pain simulator like he did everything else—with unnerving curiosity. “Fascinating. I’ve heard about this phenomenon, but I’ve never had the chance to experience it firsthand.” He grinned that unsettling grin of his as you set it up.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” he added with eerie confidence, as if he were about to observe himself in an experiment.

Level 2 was fine. At level 4, he twitched slightly. “Interesting sensation. It feels as though something is constricting. Very curious.”

At level 5, his smile wavered, just a bit. His breathing hitched, and his hand twitched. “Ah. I see. A dull, persistent ache.”

By level 7, Jade was gripping the edge of his chair, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. “This... is more intense than I anticipated. Quite...quite challenging.”

Level 9, and his grin was gone. For once, Jade looked almost human—panicked and wide-eyed. His fingers dug into the table as he gasped, “What is this? Is this...some sort of torture technique?”

You had to fight back laughter as he gave you a rare, pleading look. “Turn it off...please.”

When it finally stopped, Jade blinked rapidly, straightening himself with as much dignity as he could muster. “I’ll admit, I underestimated that. Quite... informative.”

Kalim Al-Asim:

Kalim thought this was going to be fun. Like a game. “Sure! I’ll try it!” he chirped, flashing his bright smile. “This’ll be interesting!”

At level 2, Kalim was still smiling. “It kinda tickles!”

By level 4, his eyes widened. “O-Oh. That’s...that’s a bit tight, huh?”

Level 6 hit, and Kalim’s smile faltered completely. He was gripping the couch cushions, eyes wide with panic. “Wait, wait, wait! It’s like someone’s punching me from the inside!”

Level 8 arrived, and Kalim let out a full-on yelp. “Okay! O-Okay! I-I take it back! This isn’t fun at all!”

You were wheezing with laughter as Kalim squirmed, trying to adjust himself in the chair, like it would somehow lessen the pain. “It feels like my insides are doing a dance but... but not in a good way! Jamil! Help!”

When you finally turned it off, Kalim lay there, panting like he’d just escaped a wild party gone wrong. “Wow. Just... wow. I didn’t know! How do you survive this?”

Rook Hunt:

Of course, Rook approached this experience like everything else in life—with an excessive amount of enthusiasm. “Ah, mon trésor, you wish to grant me the experience of such a unique sensation? Marvelous! I am prepared for anything!”

You hooked him up, and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

At level 2, Rook was still poetic. “Ah, it begins. A subtle whisper of discomfort, like the winds of autumn brushing against one’s skin.”

Level 4. “Ah! A deeper ache, much like the pull of unrequited love! So sharp, so vivid! I feel it in my very core!”

Level 6 hit, and Rook...started sweating. “Oh...oh my, it is as though my very soul is twisting! A veritable storm within me!”

At level 8, Rook clutched his chest dramatically. “Mon dieu! The anguish! How does one continue to live with such torment on a monthly basis? I am in awe of your strength!”

You were practically crying with laughter as Rook, finally humbled, gasped, “Turn it off, s’il vous plaît! My poetic heart cannot take any more of this agony!”

Lilia Vanrouge:

Lilia had lived for centuries. He had fought in wars, seen empires rise and fall, so surely this would be nothing, right? “Ah, this? A pain simulator? How quaint,” he said with a smirk as you set it up.

At level 3, he was still smiling, though you noticed a twitch in his left eye. “Hmph. I’ve had worse.”

Level 5 hit, and Lilia stiffened, his smirk turning into a grimace. “Oh...that’s rather unpleasant.”

Level 7 arrived, and Lilia’s face contorted. He gripped the arms of the chair, his tiny frame shuddering. “This is worse than I thought” he muttered.

At level 9, Lilia—a warrior who had seen millennia—let out a tiny, high-pitched yelp. “STOP! TURN IT OFF! THIS ISN’T RIGHT!”

You immediately turned it off, watching in amusement as Lilia leaned back in his chair, panting. “Well...I didn’t expect that to be my undoing.” He gave you a weary smile. “You are far stronger than I ever gave you credit for.”

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #trey clover x reader #trey x reader #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 months ago

Text

FAVOURITISM.

tangerine x fem!reader

wc. 1956 summary. tangerine was put out of work following the events of an accident. as a result, he created his own business, applying all of his knowledge. you work as a secretary cross technical assistant for him and working very closely to the big bad boss catches the eyes of your peers. one day he notices a change in your workwear — proving to you, he’s been paying a lot more attention than you originally thought. boss x secretary. disclaimer. the images at the bottom are just a reference of what I picture the reader wearing. they are not a reflection of how I write or see yn (colour and body type) it’s merely a way to show you what I envisioned

MY 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY! it’s only right that I write for tan seeing as it all started with him xx also a big big loving thank you to @pretty-little-mind33 for the idea and brainstorming with me. literally would not have done this without her <33

[ ⋆.˚ 𖥔˚ READ PART 2 HERE ]

⎯ ☆ ⎯

It wasn’t often that you’d find yourself not looking forward to work — feeling anxious to get in. Your love for what you do always seeming to overshadow any discomfort.

For the last several months, you’ve been working as a technical assistant cross secretary for your boss, Tangerine. No one knew of his real name, and you were starting to think that’s the way it’ll always be.

Last night after your shift, you were brought to HR for an unexpected meeting, being called up on a dress code violation. Multiple complaints made around the office about your bright tights and flowy shirts, being told that it was ‘unfit for work’ and a ‘distraction.’ You knew you weren’t exactly well liked around the office — the sneers and scowls made your way making that evident. But never did you think they would go so far out of their way to complain about you.

Their dislike for you felt territorial — judgy eyes always seeming to follow you as you attend to the needs and wants of your boss. The attention you gain from the broody, grumpy man in charge, simply asks and tasks you agreed to in your job description. The repetitive calls for your name only ever consisting of tea requests or computer help. It left you feeling confused and isolated, constantly wondering why they hated you so much. You were only ever doing your job. Doing what was asked of you.

So, as you sit in your car before the start of the workday, you use your spare few moments to collect yourself, preparing for those same judgemental stares. You look down at your legs briefly, noticing the lack of colour — your usual patterned tights now being replaced with grey, drab trousers. All of your vibrancy and exuberancy —personality— stolen when told to make this change.

You exhale, giving yourself one last second of sanity before you’re getting out of the car, juggling your bags and cups of coffee in hand. Stepping into the building and into the elevator with a small crowd, you become invisible, blending in with everyone — becoming what you’ve always dreaded: a lifeless office zombie, sharing the same apathetic, dull expression with all those around you.

You reach your floor and exit with the few remaining others in the lift. You deviate from your colleagues and head for your bosses office at the back, giving his door a couple of knocks.

“Yeah?” he calls out, and you slowly push the door open.

His usual rigged, intimidating gaze softens as his eyes fall on you through the gap, his attention landing on you over the top of his computer.

“You’re late,” he says, the words a reprimand for most, but for you they were more of an observation — a casual, flyaway statement.

“I know, I’m sorry. Traffic was a nightmare,” you apologise as you step into his office, avoiding his eyes like you were ashamed.

You look down to the coffees in hand and pass him the one without the lipstick mark, extending an arm as you move to stand beside his desk.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens,” he reassures. And as he takes the cup from your hold, he glances down, noticing the lack of your familiar flamboyance. “What’re you wearing?”

You look down confused, brows pulling together as if to show you didn’t understand his question.

“The trousers,” he looks up at you, gaze almost harsh. “Why're you wearing them?”

He has never seen you wear trousers.

“Thought I’d shake things up,” you shrug with your lie, not wanting him to know the real reason.

You didn’t want to give your peers more reason to hate you by tattling to the boss — complaining about them being mean to you, so you decided against it, keeping him from the truth. Though it’s far harder than you anticipated, his eyes ever so demanding as he remains fixed on you above.

“So no smiley face is also part of you shaking things up?” he questions, showing you the blank cup — your usual sharpie smileys nowhere to be seen.

You wince slightly, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. You weren’t sure if the embarrassment was from the fact he noticed or that you forgot. But humiliation was felt either way.

“It’ll save us the ballache if you tell me why,” he takes a sip of his drink and places it aside, giving you his full attention. “I can call a staff meeting, but I reckon they’ll get suspicious after seeing us talk,” he playfully blackmails, offering you a faint smile to show you his bribe holds no such malice.

You turn and look out through the window of his office, picking up on dozens of sets of eyes glued to you through the gap of his blinds. All of which briskly turn away upon the glance of Tangerine, his eyeline following yours — scaring your peers back into work.

“What’d they do?” he asks, redirecting your focus back to him.

“I just got a complaint, that’s all,” you shrug, trying to minimise it as much as possible.

“Why?” he asks bluntly, neck craning to keep your eyes on him.

“They don’t like the way I dress apparently,” you laugh faintly, the noise sounding far more hurt than you intended. “I mean I get it,” you deflect, trying not to slip into a habit of seeking him for assurance when people in the office turn against you. “I get what they mean.”

He’s quiet as he looks over you, head shaking disapprovingly as he mumbles something incoherent. He inhales deeply and then coughs to clear his throat, sounding like he was preparing for something.

“I gotta meet with some people, but I’ll see what I can do,” he says as he stands, reaching for his briefcase. “Don’t let these miserable lot get to you,” he smiles weakly as he collects his coffee cup, heading towards the door until he stops, and turns around to face you. “They hate that I don’t hate you, that’s all.”

Your eyes follow after him as he leaves his office, leaving you standing there alone to process his words. You’ve never really picked up on the hinted favouritism like your colleagues have — never seeming to notice the allowances and kindness your peers aren’t granted with. But you were only ever doing as told, why would that warrant any special treatment?

And with that thought in mind, you head towards your desk just outside of his office, setting your things on your neatly, organised table. Placing your hot drink in his designated spot besides your computer, you log on — attending to emails and to things on your extensive to do list.

A few hours pass you by.

You’re interrupted from all work when you feel the presence of someone standing behind you, your boss now back from his meeting with a pile of papers in hand.

“Need you to sort these out for me,” he says as places the stack beside your hand. “Please,” he adds, trying to keep up with the habit he’s trying to enforce by showing his appreciation. But only to you.

You look down to the pile, noticing a gap in between the blank, plain papers. You look up at him briefly, like you were asking permission and then your eyes fall back onto the stack. And as you go to lift the upper chunk of papers, Tangerine is moving from you and into his office, a new bag —a shopping bag— held within the hand of his briefcase. You take little to no notice and turn your attention back to the pile, a square paper bag hiding within the fake forms. The perfect cloak of disguise.

You didn’t need to look inside to know what it was, the warm circle giving it away immediately. It was a cookie. You swivel in your chair to look into his office, his eyes already on you through the gap in his blinds. The gap you’re now starting to believe holds another purpose. You smile at him sweetly, mouthing thanks before resuming with your work — wanting to get it all done before the end of the day.

And as five pm soon rolls around and as everyone begins logging off and packing up for home, you turn to look back at Tangerine, a pained expression on his face as he rolls his shoulder. His old injury you know very little about seeming to give him grief.

The floor begins to clear and you collect your things, walking those few steps until you’re in front of your boss's door. You give it a light tap and enter when welcomed.

“You off?” he asks, turning his attention to you in his doorframe.

“Yep,” you smile, lingering for a moment. “Thank you for the cookie, by the way.”

“It’s alright,” he gently smiles, head bowing almost bashfully. “Hang on and I’ll walk you out. Don’t want you out in the dark by yourself.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you deflect, not wanting to be a bother. “Really it’s okay, my car is only outside.”

He shakes his head at you as he gives his desk a quick tidy, packing things up for the night. Tangerine stands and collects his belongings, picking up his coat from the rack and small bag from the side before he’s heading to you, guiding you along.

You each walk towards the open elevators and head in, standing side by side —close— within the confined space.

He twists inwards to face you. “I uh,” he starts, extending the shopping bag from earlier to you. “I picked something up for you.”

Your brows tug in the middle, looking up at him like you were questioning the reasoning why. You take it from his hand and look inside.

“No,” you whisper, sheer disbelief in your voice as you pull out the gift. “These are beautiful! Where did you even find them?” you question, looking over the tights, marvelling at the pattern.

He keeps his head cast downwards, looking between his feet as he smiles, appreciating your appreciation. “It’s a secret.”

The elevator dings, cutting your time short and you both look at each other, the glance brief. He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to step off first, and you do. You linger, waiting for him to join so you could walk besides one another.

The walk towards your car is slow, as if both of you are trying to savour the short journey, hang on to it. Small chuckles and shy, stolen glances being the only form of communication during your minute long walk.

You reach into your bag and pull out your keys to unlock your car, the dozen chains and charms jingling and clattering with the movement of your hand.

Tangerine reaches for your door, pulling the handle to open it for you — nodding you inside. You smile at him sweetly as you get in, placing your bags on the passenger seat.

“You get home safe, alright?” he says, grinning softly.

“I will,” you look down coyly, smile faint.

He nods once. “Good.”

“See you monday?”

“Mhm-hm,” he hums, expression gentle as he goes to close your door. “Have a good weekend,” he says before shutting you inside.

You exhale shakily within the quiet sanctuary of your car, the lack of noise allowing your mind to run rampant with repeats from the last few minutes. You glance down to your gift, trying to process it all until your eyes land on the tag — his name, his real name squiggled on the note.

The favouritism you’ve struggled to notice becomes as clear as day. Every interaction from the past now being thought of differently as you look back on it all.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

in my mind she’s very penelope garcia/ louisa clark/ phoebe buffay coded (more so in dress sense) she’s cute and i love her

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x you #tangerine fluff

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