#man organizing a masterlist is gonna be hard

[obsessedgames505]

I think when I’m done with the Damien Revealed comic, I’ll make a masterlist of my Baldur’s Gate 3 content as well my Moondrop and Sundew content. I’m kind of starting to forget what is where and I’m sure it’d be helpful for everyone (myself included) if I organize my own posts a lil.

Probably not going to include my CRK content, haven’t been in a crk drawing mood since my last post. Sorry, cookie run fans.

[goaskangel]

simon ‘ghost’ riley overstimulating his sweet gf !

cw : headlock, overstim, slight dubcon, slapping, sexy ass simon

poor you, thinking your bulky boyfriend would return stressed and in need of some relief. a massage maybe, a good lunch, a small kiss from his darling. as logical as it sounds, simon came back with an urge that he just couldn’t get rid off. 

greeted with a geared up, tall man, you can’t even finish a hi baby before he practically walks all over you. pushing you inside, his gloved palms immediately finding their place on your waist and chest, closing the front door. 

“so fuckin’ tough it is,” he squeezes your face as he towers over you, “bein’ away from you.” 

he finds himself breathing in the soft scent of your hair, leaning deep into your neck and kissing your neck behind his cloth mask. you drop gently into his arms as he holds you close. the intoxicating aroma of his natural musk and smokiness of gunpowder radiating from beneath his gear. 

later, even after telling him how you’ve cooked for him, cleaned the sheets for him, organized the home so it’s all cozy for him, simon tells you he’ll get to it but for right now, he needs you. you laid back across his still geared body, his dirty, mean, mean words right above your ear. his heavy attachments bruising your half nude top and back of your hips as he forces you to stay down, his left arm down to hold your left leg open as his thick, right fingers pump thoroughly into your cunt. 

“ngh-mmm, simon!” you moan out desperately as he pulls what feels like your fifteenth orgasm. your legs shaking from the coerced impact, your slick dribbling down your open thighs onto his getup. your face being as wet, flushed cheeks covered in tears. 

he doesn’t care, in fact he’s awfully amused by the reaction he’s managed to get out of you, the reaction he’s been dreaming about. 

“gonna give me anotha one, yeah?” his bare fingers circle your chubby, raw clit. 

“mm-mm, can’t. don’t wanna.” you yelp and arch off his stomach when he sends a harsh slap! onto your pussy. “hell you mean you ‘don’t wanna’? ya cunt’s tellin’ me otherwise, dovey. be good now n don’t lie to me, or i’ll really hurt ya.” emphasizing on the word hurt as he leaves your limp leg to wrap his husky arm snug around your head, choking another cry out from you. 

“yeah? you got tha’?” you nod profusely as much you can, making him chuckle to your barely able form. 

the sensitivity doesn’t go down, now instead of being able to see his skilled forearm fidget in and out of you, you can only feel it. staring at the dim ceiling with teary eyes with his heavy breathing and whispers.

a very subtle yet strong wave of pleasure washes over you as you thrash and whine under his pressured hold. “yeeeaah, was that so hard?” he lets go of you, his mask under his lower lip as he kisses your dazed face. all he wanted was to make you feel good, lovey!

masterlist

[norrisainz33]

f175 || ls18

☆ summary: you and lance attend the f175 event

☆ pairing: lance stroll x reader

☆ fc & warnings: dua lipa and suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!!! thank you for the request 🫶🏻

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user1: effortlessly gorgeous

chloestroll: pretty princess

ynuser: i wish you were here 😫

chloestroll: i’ll see you soon bb 😘

user2: OHMGMEKGKOEY ARE YOU GOING TO F175?!

astonmartinf1: can’t wait to see you tonight 💚

ynuser: promise to only get my good side in photos?

astonmartinf1: you don’t have a bad side y/n!

lance_stroll: that’s my beautiful girl 😘

ynuser: my handsome man!!! i can’t wait to see you in your suit 🤤😍

lance_stroll: and i can’t wait to see you in that dress and also….. out of it 😏

ynuser: could always see the second in your fancy dressing room at the O2

lance_stroll: don’t tempt me

ynuser: but what if i want to 🤨

lance_stroll: then by all means

user3: ho is you an angel

user4: watching the red carpet of that weird event for you and you only

ynuser has posted to their story

view all story replies

user6: stunning!!!!!!!!

fernandoalo_oficial: sorry for stealing your man 😉

ynuser: i’ll forgive you but only this time!!

fernandoalo_oficial: lawrence is the better chauffeur anyway 😏

ynuser: hahaha i’ll tell him you said that

user9: no bc you’re gonna mog everyone so hard on that red carpet idk why anyone else is even bothering to show up

lance_stroll: goodness gracious you are stunning

ynuser: thank you babyyyyy!!

lance_stroll: i wish they would let me ride with you instead

ynuser: i know sweetheart but this evening is for you and nando to show off!!!

lance_stroll: and you know i hate it… these sorts of things make me so anxious

ynuser: i know baby but lawrence and i will be right behind you! you’ll only have to be without me for a few short minutes

flavy_barla: i’m going to start drooling

ynuser: thanks for helping me pick the outfit out baby girl

flavy.barla: happy to darling 🤍

user10: not them sending you in the safety car but ig they gotta keep the people’s princess safe huh

chanelofficial: beautiful! we are so glad you trusted us to make your outfit for this evening 🤍

ynuser: and thank YOU for the perfect outfit 🫶🏻

user11: is it wrong to say i’m more excited to see you than the liveries

peoplemagazine has made a post

liked by astonmartinf1, yourbff, alexandrasaintmleux, user12, user18, and 78,356 others

peoplemagazine: we had the pleasure of talking with y/n y/l/n and lance stroll tonight at f175. y/n talked about how excited she is for this season: “theres just so much to look forward to! lance and the entire aston martin team have worked so hard over the break and i am really looking forward to seeing that work pay off. i am so incredibly lucky to get to have a front row seat for all of this - from learning about the car back at the factory to supporting the love of my life in making his dreams come true - i am just so lucky.”

view all comments

user12: is someone cutting onions

user13: petition to make y/n the head of strookie nation

user99: Y E S

user23: petition signed. i want mother to represent us

ynuser: i’ve been summoned and i love that we’re calling ourselves strookies. i’m so in

user13: asdfghjkl she’s ONE OF US

user14: why is that so sweet i’m sick

yourbff: people magazine?! oh ynuser you’re famous famous

ynuser: dream come true for real

user15: the way y/n talks about all the people back at the factory so fondly 😭🫶🏻

user18: most supportive and kind partner award goes to y/n fr

ynuser has posted to their private story

view all story replies

yourbff: y/n/n this is unhinged

ynuser: i stand with my cancelled wife (myself)

lilymhe: screaming how much champagne did they give you

ynuser: not enough honestly. this was all organic

lilymhe: never change y/n/n

lance_stroll: not the sirens and the gun shots

ynuser: the helmet and the suit have done something unspeakable to me

lance_stroll: noted 😏

ynuser: you know what tate said about sports cars….. i’ve been thinking…..

lance_stroll: y/n i’ve told you this! there is no way we can both fit in my f1 car

ynuser: one day i’ll get you to say yes to this proposition just wait lancey

lance_stroll: whatever you say princess

estebanocon: i watched you giggle and post this from 2 tables away

ynuser: you saw nothing pls 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: mon ami stand up

ynuser: i can’t 🧎🏻‍♀️

chloestroll: i’m gonna scroll now….

ynuser: yeah that’s fair

yourfriend1: and this is valid af

ynuser: THANK YOU!!

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, boss, chanelofficial, alexandrasaintmleux, chloestroll and 453,234 others

ynuser: the amr25 is almost as hot as lance 😍🤤 thanks for an incredible night f1 and to my ladies at chanelofficial for dressing me!

view all comments

user18: the head of strookie nation has spoken 🗣️

astonmartinf1: she is a beauty 😉

ynuser: you got that right admin

user22: aston had the best reveal hands down

chloestroll: *almost as hot as you

ynuser: *almost as hot as YOU

user24: now let’s pray that she’s also fast 🤞🏻

lance_stroll: you flatter me

ynuser: just spitting facts!

estebanocon: simping on main now too??

flavy.barla: at least this was tamer

yourbff: definitely could’ve been worse

ynuser: guys please

user32: 👀

user33: you are so real for this y/n/n

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: sooo happy to be getting all these lance requests 😭😫 likes and reblogs appreciated!! thanks for reading 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[ratatoilett]

episode title : the one where there's fabric softener & flirting

nylu notes : sukuna's fuckass protein powder.

tags : @toniiiiiireads @cuntyji @nakiich @rriwyu @your-mum3000 @lulunx @heiejdhdh @oracle014 @sukubusss @noooo-one @sanestsanstan @minasuniverse @muli-wam @bearchermer @younjunie @kunasthiast @nina-from-317 @ehcilhc

series masterlist

INT. SUKUNA'S APARTMENT - SUNDAY - 9:02 AM

there are exactly two things that ryomen sukuna values more than his peace and his protein powder :

his painfully organized, immaculately folded laundry

and not seeing your face before 10 am

unfortunately for him, you exist.

you burst into his apartment at 9:02 am, a canvas tote stuffed with what looked like your entire wardrobe slung over your shoulder. you kick off your shoes like you pay rent, and march straight to his washer.

sukuna doesn't even flinch. doesn't look up from his coffee. just calmly sips and mutters, "there's laundromat two blocks down. has your name written all over it."

"and yet, i'm here," you chirp, already unloading clothes like you're not invading a man's life for the fifteenth time this week.

"why?" he sighs, deadpan. "genuinely, do your walls not echo enough at your place?"

you shrug. "yours has better detergent."

"i know it has better detergent. because i bought it. for my laundry."

you hold up a suspiciously shriveled pink sock and grin. "well. guess what detergent didn't do?" you wiggle it like a flag of surrender.

he stares. "—that used to be white."

"and now it's fun-sized and fabulous." you toss it in the trash like it personally offended you.

"you're banned from my washer."

"too late, buddy. tide's already rolling."

you start the machine with an aggressive beep and flop onto his couch like you live there—which, at this point, emotionally, maybe you do. sukuna eyes the pile of mismatched socks, graphic tees, and suspiciously glittery cardigan that now haunts his living space.

"you brought glitter into my home."

"i bring joy into your home," you correct.

"you bring headaches."

"and yet you never kick me out," you shoot back, smug. "you'd miss me if i stopped showing up."

there's a beat. he sips his coffee a little too long.

"i'd miss the silence," he says finally.

you throw a sock at him. it hits him dead in the face. he doesn't flinch.

"also," you say, sitting up, " i may have accidentally mixed my reds with your whites."

his eye twitches.

"there's a very real chance your boxer briefs are now—pink. or coral. depends on the lighting."

"get. the fuck. out."

"you love me," you sing, standing and dancing your way toward the kitchen. "deep, deep down—under all that scowling and emotional constipation—you love me."

sukuna slams his mug down. "you're gonna love it when i throw you out the window."

"you'd miss me mid-air."

he grumbles something unintelligible and disappears into his room—only to emerge five minutes later with a newly dyed salmon colored t-shirt dangling between two fingers like it personally ruined his life.

you laugh so hard, you nearly drop your mug.

he doesn't say a word. doesn't need to. the pink shirt speaks for itself.

but what you don't see—what you never do—is the way he watches you laugh. like the chaos you bring is the only thing that makes the quiet bearable. like your laundry, your glitter, your mismatched socks—you—have somehow made his space feel more like home than it ever did before.

and maybe one day, he'll tell you.

but today?

today he just throws the shirt at your head and mutters, "hope you're paying for new detergent."

[ki-yomii]

down on you | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence ➥ summary | It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. ➥ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. He’s going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.

This is the real deal, and there’s no coming back.

Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.

Credited with dozens of hits, you won’t know he’s there until it’s too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.

And you won’t know he’s coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.

Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, he’s more war machine than man.

“Go ahead, do it!” He spits at Golden’s feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. “Killing me won’t change a goddamn thing.”

A coy smile tugs at Golden’s mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.

Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. There’s no rush; they both know he’ll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.

“Come on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.”

Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat. 

“Tch! I hope you’ve got a lot of bullets - we’re gonna knock the crown off Kim’s head one way or another.”

Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. “Ahh, is that what you think?” He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. “Well, I have to say: I’d love to see you try.”

The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.

You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but you’re able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.

Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.

Especially here.

Right in front of where you’ve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.

If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.

Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.

Even though it’s been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.

While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.

In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.

You didn’t realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.

You don’t know how, you don’t know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you can’t afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.

Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.

A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.

It’s outside of official operating hours but it’s no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.

“It’s nice to see you again,” the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. “Been a while.”

You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. “Ah - yeah… Got busy with work. It’s - it’s nice to see you too.”

The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, “Here we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.”

Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse ‘thank you’.

And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. He’s as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.

A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.

“It’s good to see you again. But I gotta ask - what’s the occasion, Detective?” Namjoon hums. “I thought we were past all this.” He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. “After all, you’re practically family.”

You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. “Mr Kim, you know why I’m here.”

“I used to know why a long time ago.” A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Please, Mr Kim. I don’t want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then I’ll be on my way. So… who was he?”

Namjoon scoffs. “What makes you think I know more than the police?”

There’s a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. “A john’s a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?”

The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.”

“Oh? So I’m a civilian now.” His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. “Gotta say that’s a new one for me.”

Sighing in defeat, you say, “Alright, enough. I get it. I’m wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?” 

“He doesn’t know any more about this than I do,” he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, “But if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?”

“...Yes?”

“Take your time, I’ll be out on business all afternoon.”

With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.

He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.

The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.

Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until it’s all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.

Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.

Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left… How do you reconcile everything that’s changed with everything that was?

“Well, hello there.” Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. “Long time no see.”

Shifting, you gulp. “Ah - yeah…”

The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.

“You’re looking good,” Jungkook hums in approval, “real good. I’ve missed those pretty eyes of yours.”

“You - you too.”

Your attention doesn’t know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.

Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.

“I mean, you look… y’know, uh, good too.”

A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.

It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.

Should’ve known better but you’d been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.

After all, Jungkook is magnetic.

The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until he’s what remains in your head, your heart. You’re helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.

And try as you might, you can’t say no to a face like that.

Never could, in fact.

Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult.

After all, you still have some dignity intact.

So try, try, try again.

“Ahem.” You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. “I’m not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?”

Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and you’re achingly aware of every point of contact.

The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. They’re shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness. 

“What makes you think I know anything about that?”

“Jeon -- Jungkook.”

He hums.

Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.

The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.

“C’mon, you know that isn’t going to work. This is me you’re talking to, not some rookie.”

“Mm,” he purrs, “it is you I’m talking to, isn’t it?”

You manage to bite back the groan but can’t stop your eyes from rolling even if there’s the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, “Please, I just need to know if you killed him.”

Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. “And if I did, baby?” he asks.

Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.

His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I - I…”

“Would you see me in handcuffs?” His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. “… C’mon, answer me. Would you?”

“I would - if I had to.”

As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.

No matter how much you like to think you’d do the right thing when push comes to shove, you’d choose him a thousand times over.

His eyes dance playfully. “Careful, I might like it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you say with a snort.

Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.

With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.

An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.

“Mm, something tells me you’d enjoy it just as much, Detective.”

The use of your title is a rude awakening.

“Jungkook,” You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you can’t stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. “We really shouldn’t.”

You’re sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until you’re a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.

“Come on, I know you want me - that you’ve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..

“I’ve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?”

Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you can’t help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.

Jungkook tsks, “That’s alright. I’ll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.”

Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.

Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkook’s jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.

Jungkook hisses. 

Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.

Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.

“S-Shit!” Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. “K-Kook, I… !”

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch you’re making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. “You’ve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?”

You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, “there’s noth-ing you can do t’stop me.”

“If you don’t come back to me,” his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, “I’ll find you.”

It’s not a threat - it’s a promise.

“Then make sure I never want to leave,” you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, “Make me want to stay.”

Above all else, you think.

The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.

Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.

Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.

The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.

Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.

“Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”

Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.

He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until he’s so deep you won’t be able to walk for days.

“Shh baby, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, gaze heavy and possessive. “I’m gonna ruin you so good, you’ll have no choice but to come back. You’re mine.”

“Says who?”

“Hmm. You don’t think you are?”

Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.

“How about I show you what your body already knows?”

Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. “And it’s all for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside this pretty pussy.”

Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.

The ultimate tease - something Jungkook’s always been overly fond of doing until you’re out of your mind with desperation.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. “Stop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.”

“Oh, baby,” he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll take whatever I give you.”

You can’t stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat. 

“Ha, you’re so needy for me.”

Jungkook’s lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.

“Aren’t you?”

You croak, “I can’t – Kook, please. Anything, I’ll do anything you want just fuck me.”

The flash of his eyes is your only warning before he’s right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.

The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you whimper.

“Shit!” Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten  around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. “Forgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.”

“Me too,” You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkook’s hips.”Me too, Kook.”

Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, “‘m not gonna last long.”

Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkook’s jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.

He yanks back.

The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.

“Now you’ve really asked for it,” Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.

“Then give it to me.” You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Show me who I belong to.”  

The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.

His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.

Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. He’s ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.

You’d happily let him, you realize with a shiver.

It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.

“Hold on tight,” Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom. 

And then, he’s jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until you’re panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.

“Fuck yes, that’s it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.”

His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. It’s the fastest he’s ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you don’t even care.

The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips come morning. But it’ll be so fucking worth it. You’re going to cum hard and long, you just know it.

About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.

“Yeah, you gonna cum, baby?” he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. “Can feel how - haaah shit - how tight you’re squeezing me.”

“Uh-huh,” you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. “So - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--”

Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkook’s thrust with all the force of gravity. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkook’s shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.

“K-Kook!”

Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. “Yeah, that’s it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.”

Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkook’s thick shaft.

He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.

Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. “S’okay. Just breathe, baby.”

Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.

You slur, determined, “Kook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you s’bad.”

“Fuck! Can’t just say shit like that to me or I…” Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. “Shit - ’m so --”

You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, “A-haah, K-Kook!”

Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.

“Yeah, just like that,” he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, “take it like a good girl.”

He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.

“No more, can’t - can’t…” Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. “S’too much.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, “I really have missed you, you know.”

You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” you can’t muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, “s’that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He chuckles. “You’re staying here - right where I want you.”

In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; he’s looking at you like you hung the world on a string.

“I’ve missed you too, Kook,” you say with a gentle smile.

You’ll allow yourself this moment of weakness when there’s no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles don’t matter much when he’s cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.

Between the two of us, you’re the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.

And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.

[benispunk]

Who's that girl?

Chapter 1: Who’s That Girl?

Wade and Logan are looking for a new roommate. Enters Y/N. How bad could it be?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, does Deadpool & Wolverine count as a warning?, mentions of dark backgrounds sometimes.

A/N: hello everyone! this is it (I'm so nervous right now), the New Girl AU of my dreams, I hope I'm not going to disappoint you with that series. I'll try to post one chapter every week (and maybe two if I'm efficient). English is not my first language, I have read this chapter way too many times to acknowledge any new mistakes (sorry in advance), alright it's yours now. see you soon!!

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Next Part

Knock knock knock

The sound of her knuckles against the wood echoed louder than she expected, sending a jolt of anxiety through her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a step back, suddenly hyperaware of every breath she took.

Y/N shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to calm the nervous energy bubbling inside her. The seconds stretched on, each one feeling longer than the last, as she imagined all the possible ways this could go wrong.

What if they didn’t like her? What if she said something stupid? What if-

The click of the door handle snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. 

Her stomach did a flip as the door swung open with surprising speed, revealing a man with a wide grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wore a bright red t-shirt with some sort of sarcastic slogan on it.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our potential new roommate!” Wade said, his tone playful as he leaned against the doorframe. “You must be the brave soul willing to share a living space with me and the grumpy lumberjack inside.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but Wade was already continuing, as if he hadn’t noticed -or didn’t care- that she hadn’t spoken yet. “Quick question before you come in: Ryan Reynolds or Hugh Jackman? Your answer could determine your fate in this apartment.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the randomness of the question. “Uh… Hugh Jackman?”

Wade clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, right in the ego! But I’ll forgive you, because you seem nice.” He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. “Come on in before Logan gets any more annoyed. He’s been brooding extra hard today.”

As she stepped inside, she couldn’t help but notice that the apartment, while a bit cluttered, had a warm, lived-in feel to it. Her nerves eased a little, but her mind was quick to remind her that this was an interview and that she wasn’t living there yet.

“Logan!” Wade called out as he shut the door behind her. “Our guest has arrived, and she’s team Jackman, so you’re safe for now!”

From somewhere deeper in the apartment, she heard a low, gruff voice grumble in response. Y/N wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but she figured she’d find out soon enough.

Y/N barely had time to take in the surroundings before heavy footsteps signaled Logan’s approach. He emerged from a hallway leading to what she assumed were the bedrooms, his expression as stern as she’d expected. There was something about the man that made it clear he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

He gave her a quick, assessing look, then turned his attention to Wade. “You gonna offer her a seat, or just keep standin’ around like an idiot?”

Wade rolled his eyes but grinned. “Relax, peanut. I was getting to it.” He turned to Y/N and gestured toward the couch. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee? A shot of whiskey to calm the nerves?”

“Uh, water’s fine,” she replied, taking a seat on the couch. She couldn’t help but notice how the room seemed to reflect the personalities of its inhabitants—one side neat and organized, the other side a chaotic mix of random objects, comic books, and a few unidentifiable gadgets.

Wade disappeared into the kitchen, and Logan took the opportunity to sit in a chair across from her. His intense gaze made her sit up a little straighter. “So, why do you wanna live here?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

Before she could answer, Wade returned with a glass of water and plopped down next to her on the couch, interrupting her thoughts. “Yeah, what Logan said. Also, how much weirdness can you handle? Just asking for a friend,” he said, winking as he handed her the glass.

Y/N took the water gratefully, trying to collect herself. “Well,” she began, glancing between the two of them, “I had to move out quite urgently from my apartment, I’m currently crashing at my colleagues place and I can’t afford an apartment for myself in the city... You guys are actually the only people who replied to my application. Which I appreciate, thank you for considering me.”

Wade, on the other hand, was already nodding enthusiastically. “Well, aren’t we just the Good Samaritans of the roommate world? Don’t worry Y/N, we’ve got plenty of space and...” he paused for dramatic effect, “—an unbeatable blend of charm and wit. Right, Logan?”

Logan just rolled his eyes in response, which seemed to amuse Wade even more. “Don’t mind him. He’s actually a big softie once you get past all the grumbling and scowling.”

“Keep talking, Wade, and you’ll be finding a new place to live,” Logan said, his tone deadpan but with a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Y/N smiled, feeling the tension in her chest ease slightly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. She could already see how living with these two would never be dull.

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he focused on Y/N again. “So, you’re in a tight spot. What about work? You able to hold your own with rent, or do we need to worry about you bailing?”

“Yes,” Y/N confirmed. “I teach in high school. It’s a steady job, so I can definitely cover my share of the rent. It’s just finding an affordable place that’s been the problem.”

Wade grinned, clearly pleased. “See? Told you she’s a responsible one. Just so you know, Logan teaches too. In a special school for special kids or something like that-”

Logan interrupted, “It’s an organisation for kids who can’t go to normal school-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, and I work in a bar. And I do gigs on some nights because I’m funny as fuck. We could use some fresh energy around here. Between Logan’s brooding and my, well, awesomeness, you’d be the perfect balance.”

Logan shot Wade a look but then turned back to Y/N. “As long as you can keep up with us and don’t cause trouble, you’re good with me.”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

Wade raised his glass in a mock toast. “Welcome to the madhouse, Y/N. Just remember, if things get too crazy, you’re always free to join me on a spontaneous road trip. Logan secretly loves those.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, bub.” Logan muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile too, feeling more at ease. This might just work out after all.

“Alright then, when would be a good time for me to move in?”

“We already have a spare key for you so, whenever really.”

“Okay. Okay. Wow, this is happening. You have no idea how anxious I’ve been feeling for the past few days because of all of this, so, really, thank you so much.”

The two men smiled at her. “ We’re as happy as you!” Wade declared, grinning from ear to ear.

She left the apartment after a while, thanking all the gods out there for this opportunity. She had no idea what would have happened if the answer had been negative. She didn’t want to think about it, preferring thinking about how she would decorate her room and settle down in this new place with those two guys. She knew she was in for an adventure.

____

Logan stared at the laptop screen. Y/N’s application was pulled up, and he read through it for the third time. High school teacher, praised by students and colleagues alike, with glowing references and a bright, friendly photo attached. On paper, she was perfect. Too perfect.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his beard. “I know we don’t have a choice anymore but, » he pointed at the application on the screen. “ Too nice for us.”

Wade was lounging on the couch nearby, flipping through channels on the TV. He glanced over, an easy grin spreading across his face. “What’s that supposed to mean? Nice is good. We could use a little nice around here. Plus, it’s done, we gave her the keys.”

He frowned, closing the laptop with a snap. “I know. But we’re not exactly… fucking normal. You’ve got your gigs, your… nightlife. I’m not exactly Mr. Sunshine either. What if she can’t handle it?”

Wade chuckled, tossing the remote aside. “Logan, peanut, buddy…2008 sexiest man alive look-alike-”

Logan cut him, “Quit it.”

Wade continued. “You’re overthinking this. She’s a teacher, right? She’s probably seen it all—teenagers are practically mini versions of us, minus the PTSD and questionable life choices. Plus, she applied to live with us, so she knows what she’s getting into.”

Logan didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, but what if she doesn’t? Our lives aren’t exactly easy to mix with someone like her.”

Wade rolled his eyes and got up from the couch, walking over to where Logan sat. “Look, you’re worried because you think we’ll scare her off. But maybe she’s exactly what we need to lighten this place up. Besides, we already chose her so…Quit it.”

Logan let out a reluctant sigh. “Okay.”

Wade patted the man’s shoulder. “That’s my man!”

He didn't stop patting Logan’s shoulder, his hand slowly lowering to his bicep and squeezing it “Now, that’s one of the reason why she’ll prefer you-” Logan immediately slapped his hand away and got up from his chair, Wade flinching and screaming in fear in the process.

An adventure, that was for sure.

XXX

[marvelstoriesepic]

Listen to your gut

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: angst, fluff

author’s note: Soft!Bucky here y’all

Masterlist

Something was wrong.

You knew it the moment you stepped foot in the debriefing room, getting unpleasantly greeted by those red tentacles of the Hydra symbol. A triggering wave of unease washed over you and a chill ran down your spine. The stark contrast of the red tentacles against the whiteboard felt like a sinister omen, a reminder of current dangers.

Technically you were on bed rest due to two broken ribs you received during the last mission you had with Steve, Nat, and Clint. Normally Bucky would join any mission you participated in even if he wasn’t needed but he couldn’t fathom the thought of not being able to protect you and stay in your reach.

Unfortunately though Tony, Banner, and he flew to Wakanda a few days prior due to research purposes on his new arm. Bucky wanted you to join him but since you were leading a training program for the new coming shield agents you were tied to the compound.

Already unpleased Bucky surely wasn’t happy to hear that you and the others got called in last minute and were already on your way to Siberia. He couldn’t get any updates on you the whole day and felt pretty helpless in Wakanda. He knew you were more than capable of holding your own in any situation. Your skills were unparalleled, your determination was unwavering. But despite his confidence in your abilities, he couldn’t shake the gnawing worry that gripped his heart. He loved you. And he worried. And he hated the thought of you being out there fighting the bad guys instead of crunching on chips on the couch, sparring with Nat, or joking with Sam all safe and sound in the compound.

So when Bucky heard of what you injured he was reeling. He couldn’t keep still, asked about updates on you every two minutes, scared a few kids with his glares after not being able to connect and talk to you on the first try and annoyed even Tony, usually immune to Bucky’s intensity, to the point where he was willing to fly back to the compound earlier than wanted.

After being able to communicate, you told him you’d be fine and you’d just be on bed rest for the next two weeks and he should just stay there until everything’s figured out but Bucky wasn’t hearing any of that. He just wanted to get home, hold his girl, and see for himself that you were truly okay.

So here you were, one week later sitting on a chair next to Bucky and looking up to Steve, who started detailing the mission plan, with that looming dread blooming in your stomach, refusing to be ignored.

You knew it wasn’t necessary for you to be here and listen to a mission plan you couldn’t participate in but it included Bucky. Healing took him a lot of time and you all knew he wasn’t completely over it. He never will be. How could anyone blame him? So you weren’t gonna let him sit through this alone to talk and hear about the organization that held him captive so many decades of his life.

Said man was currently sitting next to you, he scooted your chair to knock at his before you even sat on it to have you as near as possible. Your thighs were touching and his hand was linked to yours resting in your lap. Although it should probably be hard for him to sit here and hear Steve talk about those people while seeing them in pictures right beside him, Bucky’s main worry was you.

But you were uncomfortable. Not because of your injuries, you forgot them the second you got here, but because of that pit in your gut that wouldn’t stop increasing.

Bucky's gaze lingered on your profile a little longer the next time he looked at you, a slight crease in his brow. His concern for you was evident in every glance, every reassuring touch, but even his unwavering support couldn’t dispel the growing sense of unease that knotted your stomach. You knew you had no logical reason to feel this way, no tangible evidence of danger, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind refused to be silenced.

His name called by Steve made Bucky's head turn away from you but his grip didn’t falter.

As Steve spoke, his words washing over you like a distant murmur, you found it increasingly difficult to focus. Despite your best efforts, the details of the mission blurred together, overshadowed by the relentless drumbeat of your anxiety.

A squeeze of your hand helped you return your focus and you looked over to Bucky, his concerned gaze already on you. You sat up straighter, squeezed his hand back, and gave him a curt nod and a quick kiss on his cheek. With that, you moved your gaze toward Steve and pretended to listen.

Bucky’s focus was entirely on you still while he moved your joined hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles affectionately. He was adamant about talking to you now, wanting to chase away whatever shadows were clouding your mind, but he knew this wasn’t the time.

You actually caught a few things here and there about what Bucky's tasks would be on that mission during the rest of the meeting and although it was pretty simple, especially for a 6ft super soldier with a metal arm, your worries didn’t ease. It also didn’t exactly relax you knowing he wouldn’t have any backup.

As the meeting drew to a close, you rose from your seat, your hand still firmly clasped in Buckys. His touch grounded you, anchoring you to the present as you navigated the seemingly endless hallway back to your room. With each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier, your hands trembling with the force of your emotions. Your bottom lip was hurting through the pull your teeth had on it. Bucky didn’t let go of you once. He opted to move his arm around you and pulled you into his side, kissing your head softly every now and then, and didn’t let up until you entered your room.

He closed the door with his foot and turned you to face him, moving his hands up to your face to cup your cheeks and take a better look at you.

“Baby what’s-”

“Don’t go!” you just blurted it out, interrupting him. But you needed to say it.

Bucky blinked, a little flashed at your urgency and the near desperation lacing your features. He swiped his thumbs over your cheeks, lips parted and searching your face. He took a breath but before he was able to utter a word you forestalled him.

“Don’t go on that mission Bucky!” you pleaded, voice wavering. It felt ridiculous and absurd to beg him to stay, to ask him to set aside his duty for the sake of your own fears. Missions were his job after all and you couldn’t explain what you were feeling exactly but just thinking about Bucky venturing into the heart of Hydra once again without any backup knocked your breath away, logic and reason drowned out. You couldn’t bear the idea of him facing such dangers alone, not after all he had been through.

Feeling hot and cold at the same time you felt goose bumps rising on your arms underneath your sweater. You didn’t need to see them to know they were there, desperately holding onto Bucky's wrists, clinging to him as if he were the only anchor keeping you grounded. Nothing you did however shook the feeling that something was wrong, that sending your Bucky into the lion’s den without any backup was a recipe for disaster.

Bucky ran his hand over your hair. He picked up on your elaborate breaths and your heartbeat increased erratically. You couldn’t even feel the normally soothing contrast of flesh and metal on your skin.

“Hey, it’s alright,” he whispered softly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m here, sweetheart. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Your teeth were still grinding on your lip until Bucky lifted his thumb to your chin to get it out of its death grip. He smothered the irritation on your lips with his finger while you avoided looking at him. You didn’t know how to explain your sneaking suspicion, didn’t know how he’d react to you just having some gut feeling. Cause that’s all it was. But if there was something you remembered of your grandmother it was to always listen to your gut sweetheart. It may save lives one day. You kept that in mind, a comforting reminder of the importance of trusting your instincts.

In junior high, you got asked out on a date by some guy a little older than you. You said yes and excitedly dolled yourself up later that day. But before you even got to leave the house, you felt it. A shiver ran down your spine, muscles contorted, and that uncomfortable dread loomed inside your stomach. Your body was basically screaming at you to turn away from the doorknob and not to leave the house. You listened. You sent the guy a quick apology saying something important came up and stayed inside. Up until today, you didn’t know if that suspicion was justified but you didn’t hear anything from that guy again.

Now, faced with a similar feeling of unease, you couldn’t ignore the warning signs that your body was sending you.

Your name being called, uncertain and concerned, cut through the haze of your thoughts. Baby blue eyes reached your vision again, Bucky having tilted your head to meet his gaze. You cleared your throat, a lump burning there.

“Uhm..I,” you took a shaken breath, “I just-” Your brows were furrowed and you closed your eyes for a second to get a hold of yourself and gather your thoughts.

Bucky still ran gentle fingers along your cheekbones, his body pressed against yours with his chest leaning back a bit to see you better. Worry lines creased his forehead, brows pulled together almost painfully and with a look so perturbed and as anxious as you although you hadn’t voiced what was on your apprehensive mind yet.

“I just feel like…” your voice trailed off, words faltering as you struggled to articulate the unease gnawing at you from within. You bit the inside of your cheek, but Bucky's light nod encouraged you to continue despite your doubts. “I just have a bad feeling about all this,”you finally managed to say, the admission leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

God, how would he think of you? Making such a fuss and worrying him out of his mind to tell him all you had was a bad feeling. You felt ridiculous again, burdening Bucky with your irrational fears when logic dictated otherwise. Letting out a huff at yourself you tried to leave Bucky’s hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

His metal arm wound around your back, pressing you back in his chest, the worry lines on his face might as well be permanent by now. He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. They were still so soft and understanding behind all the agitation. “A bad feeling?” he repeated, his voice gentle and devoid of judgment. All you could hear was his concern for your frenzy state.

Taking a deep breath you looked back at him. “Yeah, I just- I have that kinda gut feeling something’s gonna happen and I...I don’t know I-”

“Hey,” Bucky called again, moving his metal hand up and down your spine. “It’s alright baby. Steve said I probably won’t even have to engage in combat too much. It’s a quick in and out for all of us. It’s not an active base, we’re just there to gather intel.”

“Then they could do this without you.”

Bucky’s patient and understanding expression softened. “Theoretically they could,” he conceded. “But I’m good at going in there baby, don’t worry your pretty little head. And Steve would have sent somebody with me if he thought it wasn’t safe.”

You shook your head, frustration clear to see on your face. He just didn’t get it. And you couldn’t blame him for that. He was still not used to someone worrying about him. He was the last person to worry about himself and it broke your heart the first time you met him as it did now. He didn’t understand that you couldn’t live if something was to happen to him. So if your gut feeling could save his life you sure as hell would make him believe it was worth it.

“Buck!” It came out as a desperate plea, your voice cracking with desperation. Tears welled in your eyes as you clung to him, fists clenched tightly around his shirt “I’m begging you, please don’t go!” Your words were barely above a whisper, but the intensity of your plea spoke volumes.

All you could think about was the thought of losing him, the unbearable pain that would consume you if he were to be harmed. Your fear was raw and unfiltered, laid bare for him to see.

His initial reassurance fell away as he realized the depth of your fear, your vulnerability tearing at his own resolve. “Hey, look at me doll!” He grabbed your face in both hands again, wiping a lone tear away that left your eye. His expression grew painfully serious. “Don’t cry baby, please! It’s alright!”

He leaned down to press his lips to your forehead. More tears slipped past your lashes onto your cheeks and Bucky wiped them away immediately, looking pained himself.

With gentle hands, he kept cradling your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, his own eyes betraying the turmoil within him, so he squeezed them shut.

“Don’t go!” you whispered again, closing your eyes. It was all you could say.

He couldn’t bear to see you in such anguish, couldn’t fathom leaving your side when you needed him most. His forehead rested on yours. “I won’t go! Won’t go, baby, I’ll stay here.” He repeated his words as a mantra tugging you in a tightened embrace while whispering promises in your ear, his face in your hair.

Bucky’s heart clenched at the sight of your distress, his own anxiety rising in response to your tears and pleas. Your love for him was a beacon in the darkness of his past, a light that guided him through even the toughest of times. His thoughts often played with him by giving him scenarios of you dying. Of him losing you and what that would mean to his life. Well, he wouldn’t have a life anymore. Facing the possibility that you would feel the same if something were to happen to him was both, a burden and a relief. He felt a sense of helplessness wash over him. You always prided him on being strong, but in that moment, he felt powerless in the face of your fear.

You mourning his loss was a reality he couldn’t bear to contemplate, a future he refused to accept. So he did what he had to. He vowed to stay by your side, to forsake the mission and the risks it entailed in favor of your well-being.

He knew about the gravity of his choice. Steve would have to replan the whole thing, although he might be understanding, but this couldn’t necessarily be said about the other team members. Maybe he’ll be benched on the next few missions. But you finding the courage to confront your fears and laying yourself bare like that to him made him immensely proud. So in that moment, none of the consequences mattered. All that mattered was you, your safety, and the certainty of your love.

His words were a balm to your frazzled nerves, a soothing melody in the chaos of your mind. You clung to him, hands making wrinkles in his shirt, feeling grateful beyond words, and breathed in the comfort of his presence. The storm of your anxiety slowly ebbed away.

In that moment, Bucky made a silent vow to cherish every moment with you, to protect you at all costs, and to never take your love for granted. And as he held you close, he silently prayed that your gut feeling was nothing more than a passing fear, a shadow in the night soon to be dispelled by the light of dawn.

“When something feels off, it is”

- Abraham Hicks

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

Moonlight Psychopomp

Vampire!Perpetua x Reader

A/N: I was listening to Abstract (Psychopomp) by Hozier when this thought came into my head. This was supposed to be a little blurb idea I was gonna throw into @papathe5th’s askbox but it became a full fic of its own, so here we go! Also! The lovely divider is by @wrathofrats!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy: Imagine being there when Perpetua gets turned and sort of ushering him into his “afterlife”.

Warnings: Major Character Death-ish. It’s nothing too detailed, but he technically does die. Very Mild Gore - mild descriptions of blood, nothing super detailed. Originally written with she/her pronouns, but changes to be gender-neutral, so let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Word Count: 2k

I don’t have any other works for Perpetua at the moment, but if you like my writing, you can check out my Masterlist!

You liked to walk through the woods that backed up to the Monastery. The old abbey was such a secretive place - all mystery and compelling quietness. You liked to nose around the grounds, catch sight of the men who lived there, listen to the tones from the abbey’s organ.

You almost didn’t come tonight. The smattering of snow falling should have convinced you to stay home next to your heater and fireplace. Really, it shouldn’t have been snowing at all, but Spring seemed to come late this year. Even in mid-April the winter chill had yet to leave your hometown.

But you wanted to listen to the brothers sing. You wouldn’t be able to hear much, but if you got close enough, you could make out the melodies and harmonies drifting through the windows during the Easter vigil mass.

But as you creep closer to the tree line, out of the densest parts of the forest, you see a dark, lumpy shape laying on the forest floor.

A smarter person might have changed course and avoided whatever consequences might come from investigating a dark, lumpy shape laying on the forest floor. But you were curious. It was that curiosity that led you to spy on the Monastery to begin with - that curiosity that led you here tonight. So of course you listened to that before you ever listened to the rational part of your mind.

As you draw closer to the shape, you try to make out what exactly it is. Granted, it’s dark. The sun set ages ago, so you can’t see well to begin with. But you still try.

However, it’s not the shape of the thing that finally tells you what it is. It’s what you step in.

You don’t hear it at first, but after a few steps, you notice a squelch beneath your shoes that isn’t made by crushing snow. Looking down, you can’t quite make out what exactly is different about the forest floor - only that there’s some liquid or goo shining in the dim moonlight. You bend down to investigate, but before you can kneel, you’re overcome by the metallic smell. Blood.

A thick trail of blood leads up to and puddles beside the shape. And as you look down at what appears to be shredded fabric, you catch a glimpse of what is laying beneath that fabric. Your heart plummets when you realize what - or, rather who - you had stumbled upon.

He’s one of the brothers of the monastery. Even without the robes, you’d know. You had seen him around the grounds during previous visits, often catching him hiding in the open courtyard or wandering close to the forest while scribbling something in a notebook. He was your favorite to watch. Not just because he was handsome, which was nice, but really, it was because he seemed so out of place - like the pious life grated hard against him - like something about him being there just…wasn’t right. And yet there he was.

But as he lays here, he looks nothing like the man you’ve watched before. His robes are torn to shreds. His skin an ill pallor that’s beginning to sink in upon itself. Most of all, he just looks…wrong - like he’s lost something about himself. Something fundamental that no one would ever choose to lose.

You kneel beside him, pull his body into your lap and let the weight of his upper body rest on your legs. And only then do you notice where the puddle of blood beside him comes from.

Blood still trickles from the wounds and though you try not to jump to conclusions, the two punctures on his neck tell you enough to guess what happened to him.

“You poor thing,” You whisper, adjusting his body so his head can rest in the crook of your elbow, “What happened to you?”

You nearly jump out of your skin when his eyes creak open just the smallest bit. You’re not even sure he actually did open his eyes. It could have been a muscle twitch or something. But you force your arms to still, to continue holding him against your rapid heartbeat.

But he knows. The second he heard your voice his body jolted alive, fighting to hang on just a little longer. Just enough to finally see you.

You were really here - the one who kept coming back to spy on the monastery. He could finally see more of you than the brief glimpses he had caught before. He could finally connect the dots on the rough sketches he’d been scribbling in his notebook. He could finally meet you.

But everything is hazy. And his whole body hurts. He doesn’t even know where he is anymore or how he got here. But he can hear your voice like a beacon of clarity that pulls him back down to earth.

As you speak, the moonlight streaming through the trees bathes you in a silver halo, so much so that it seems the moonlight comes from you. You are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and he wonders for a moment if he’s even worthy of looking at you.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re still here with me. But I’m sorry it happened like this. I’m sorry you were alone.”

“I’m not” he yearns to say. The words push up against the back of his tongue, but his throat is dry and he can’t make his lips move. So he looks into your eyes, hoping you can see the little flicker of his soul behind his eyes - hoping he can somehow tell you with his eyes that he knows you’re there.

Fuck, he knows. Moments before this, when he lay alone in the snow he had been afraid - shivering and shuddering, feeling the cold sting against his skin where that thing had ripped his robes (he wonders briefly how much of his body you can see). But then you found him and pulled him against your body and let him feel warmth again.

And as he looks into your eyes now, all of that fear is quelled. All the blood, all the cold, all the pain - it melts away and is replaced by something warm and comforting within his chest. Your eyes hold everything good in the world just above him. Just looking at you is enough to soothe his every ache.

He takes a final moment to memorize your face, a final deep breath - willing his chest to move one last time, then goes entirely limp.

Your arms jolt out to carry all the weight of him once more. And for a moment, you just sit there, holding his still body in silence.

You don’t know what to do. You’re certain a man just died in your arms. A man you hardly know in a dark forest backed up to an old Monastery in the middle of a vigil mass.

As you look down at his blank face, trying to think of what to do, you’re overcome with pity for him. To die almost alone on a cold night is not the death this man deserved. You can feel tears for him welling in your eyes and as they fall, you pull his body to your chest, hugging close the remnants of this poor man before setting him on the forest floor.

You can’t bury him. You don’t have a shovel, nor do you have the strength to dig a grave for him. But something tells you that even if you could, you still wouldn’t bury him. There’s no explaining it, but something about him just doesn’t feel…done yet. It’s absurd. There is no breath. No pulse. Even the blood trickling from his wounds has stopped. And yet, you know you wouldn’t bury his body.

So you do what you can. You pull the collar of his robes up against the wind and prop his body against a tree, well guarded in a dark corner of the forest. You slip your coat off and lay it over him - hoping that if you’re correct and he’s not quite done yet, that the coat will keep him warm.

Just before you stand to leave, you cup his cold cheek in your hand, cradling hope and comfort against his hollow skin. And into his ear you softly whisper: “Whatever comes for you now, poor one, I hope you find happiness, whatever that means for you.”

And then you were gone.

The ministry is still a little overwhelming. Especially today.

The ministry halls - normally quiet and calm - are bustling with veteran Siblings racing to welcome new initiates. He’s supposed to come meet them this evening too. It’s one of his first official acts as Papa. And yet, he finds himself scared - worried, even, that he will somehow fail even this simple task.

He turns his eye to the corner of his desk. There’s a framed sketch there. A sketch of you. The one he’d viciously scribbled moments after he woke up, perched against a tree. It was one of the only things he remembered when he woke in that cold forest.

He’d ripped his notebook and pen from the pocket of his shredded robes and finished the sketches of you he had started weeks ago.

And now he keeps this one with him - framed and close no matter where he goes.

He often looks to you when he needs strength. Even if it‘s just a sketch of you, it’s enough to help him through anything. You’d saved him once before and so many times after that, though you’d never know it.

He dreams about that night often. Every week at least. Flashes of the initial attack have come back slowly over the years. That, he’s not entirely grateful for. But he remembers some things that are good enough to balance out the nightmares. He remembers that he was doing a last check of the grounds before the vigil mass when he was attacked. He remembers hoping to see you in the trees and thinking that if he saw you again he might invite you inside - just for mass. Just to meet you. And most of all, he remembers you and how the moonlight shone from you and how you’d guided him into his afterlife with your kind, comforting voice.

He’s been looking for you. Ever since that night he’s looked for you. Honestly, at this point he’s not even sure you’re real. Maybe you had been an angel. Or a demon. Or some figment of his imagination. But that’s never stopped him from looking for you. And if there was one benefit of his sudden promotion, it was that he had some level of power to look for you. He would be going on tour soon and in every venue, in every city, he’ll be looking for you - hoping, praying to Satan that you’re real.

As he looks at the sketch of you, he feels that same warmth he felt the night you saved him - the one that melted over him when he looked into your eyes. It’s reassurance enough that even if he’s scared, he can survive - he will survive.

And later that night, when he steps into the sanctuary to meet the new initiates, his breath catches in his throat and time stops altogether.

You’re here. You’re actually here. You’re not some figment of his imagination. Even obscured by the formal habit for the ceremony, he knows it’s you. You may have aged in the fifteen years it’s been since you held him, but he knows you. He would know your eyes, your voice, even in death or whatever comes for him now. You’re here. You’re real. And you’re just as beautiful as his hazy memory recalls. The moonlight shining upon you through the stained glass windows gives you the same silhouette as that night; the same silver halo. A message from God or Satan or something beyond either of them. One that says “Look at them. I’ve brought them to you.”

And in that moment, he is filled with the most radiant, blinding happiness he’s ever known.

He finally gets to meet you.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Boss ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Noncon.

--

◾ Yandere!Boss who is an objective, short-tempered man.

Many people perceive him as rude and impolite, but in reality he’s just someone who doesn’t have patience or the desire for pleasantries or small-talk. He can’t afford to lose time with whatever social bullshit people like to entertain themselves with. 

He built his company from scratch, his hard-work elevating a practically fundless start-up into what is nowadays a highly-profitable corporate business. 

He - unlike those nepo-babies - is a self-made businessman, his net-worth going little beyond the billions. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who demands his employees to do their absolute best when it comes to their work performance.

Mistakes have no place in his organization and he’s rather ruthless about them, loudly berating at cowering employees for being ignorant and careless. 

He’s personally involved with even the smallest task, eagle-eyes looking out for any possible mistakes.

◾ Yandere!Boss who, despite his frightening behavior, is someone who’ll fight for the work force’s right, arguing left and right with board members for the chance of raising paychecks. 

Good and effective employees should get rewarded, that’s his filosofie.

◾ Yandere!Boss who gets a tingle of annoyance when you join his office.

Fresh from college, unnecessary optimism coloring your features as you wander around the hallways. That hideous glow of pure innocence that you carry around making his hand twitch, fingers just itching to grab your pretty neck. 

He gets so frustrated at how childish you are. The way you see the world - so bright and perfect - is far from the ugly distorted reality.

You see the world through magical, rose-tinted glasses while he sees it as it truly is. Life isn’t a fairytale and there are no charming princes coming to the rescue. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who fucking hates the way you act all offended when he says hurtful truths, that know-it-all look plastered on your face. As if you know more about business - his business - than him. 

Sometimes he abruptly stops the conversation and leaves, before his anger gets the best of him and he ends up doing something he regrets. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who just finds himself in his office, deeply zoning out thanks to the help of a cup of whisky. His mind plagued with the fantasies of manhandling you, to fuck the illusions out of you.

To fuck the snobby attitude from you, pounding your little hole till you’re all sore and ruined, his cum leaking from you.

To make you scream - plead for mercy - until your throat is horse and your voice breaks, that stupidly nasally voice of yours. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who’ll dwell a personal vendetta against you, carefully following every single action of yours, preying on the tiniest mistakes as a way to shout at you.

It’s either a calculation mistake in one of your presentations, a poorly structured report or even an unsatisfying answer to a question he asked you. 

He’s so done with you, his mind set on showing how the real world works. That mistakes have consequences. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who won’t care if you threaten to complain to HR about him forcing you to stay over hours to complete sudden tasks you were given at the last minute.

As if he’d care about HR - it’s his company for fuck’s sake. What are they gonna do?

Kick him out when he’s the one signing their paychecks? 

◾ Yandere!Boss who has enough of your “better than everyone” bullshit and snaps.

Thank god that the office was desert, no one in sight otherwise he’d be in big trouble as he grabs you by the neck, violently dragging you to the safety of his private dark-windows office. 

Once he’s got you in that spacious room, he’ll waste no time in tossing you to his desk, disregarding the wail you let out when your body slams against the wooden desk, your poor hip colliding on the hard edge.

Your pathetic attempts to push him away barely bother him, his body stronger with adrenaline and excitement as he’s finally gotten his hands on you. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who wastes no time in shoving himself inside you, burying himself into that dry naive pussy that has been troubling him for all these months.

Rewarded by the irrelevant weeping that slips from your shaking figure as he absolutely rails you, his strong hands digging into your flesh as he mercilessly pounds into you. 

Doesn’t care if you’re hurting or not, because this will give you an important life lesson for you to learn. That you’re not above anyone. Shattering your pink pretty dreams is the wisest lesson he has to offer you. Maybe then you’ll be less of a spoiled delusional brat. 

◾ Yandere!Boss that fucks you more than a few times, his stamina never lowering even after he’s cummed several times inside you. Doesn’t care that you’re incredibly sore and barely conscious, your body limp in his arms.

You gotta give him what he’s owed for dealing with your annoying ass so many times.

All those times he had to restrain himself from giving you a nasty slap to your face, just to see if some intelligence could be activated. He needs to get all of that hatred out of his system and he will. 

◾ Yandere!Boss who leaves you with a bruised pussy and battered spirit after he’s done with you, giving you a warning look before leaving the office.

He certainly hopes that you’ve learnt your lesson but if you haven’t, he won’t complain about teaching you some manners again. 

[softcursechoso]

Somewhere, We Do: Ch. 1

JJK x Reader

Nanami x Reader

Masterlist

MDNI! // 18+ //NO SPOILERS ARE OFF LIMITS!

Ch. 1 Warnings: None

Summary: Drowning in the monotony of corporate life, you and Nanami both find yourselves at the end of your ropes—exhausted, overworked, and utterly disillusioned. The world of deadlines and fluorescent office lights has drained you both, but fate has other plans. In each other, you find solace, understanding, and a passion neither of you expected. But in a world where duty always comes first, can love this intense truly last?

Words: 3.5k+

HAZELNUT ESPRESSO

Shinjuku : 1:30pm : The Flour Garden

“If I have to remake one more goddamn Iced Honey Lavender Matcha with oat milk, two pumps of vanilla, one pump of caramel, light ice, and a dusting of cinnamon I’m gonna lose my shit!” The voice of a very impatient barista cut through the crowd like a knife. 

The Flour Garden is where you were. A modern jungle of caffeine fueled chaos was clearly on the menu today. It was nestled in the heart of Shinjuku. The cafe was an architectural fusion of industrial minimalism and warm organic textures. There were polished concrete floors, matte black steel framing that ran down the glass windows and let in the hazy midday winter sunlight.

Hanging ferns and pothos cascaded from geometric planters, and was a nice counter to the contrasting monochrome furniture. It was a nicely decorated spot when it wasn’t packed practically shoulder to shoulder.

Every table was filled, and every booth occupied. The sheer volume of conversation created an ever-present buzz that crackled with frustration- which is what probably ticked off the barista. But shit, it was lunch time in one of Tokyo’s busiest districts.

Maybe the frustration was getting to you too. “Tch, be a little more unprofessional for those in the back, lady.” You mumbled under your breath, “Is it too much to ask for a black coffee and a damn donut? The hell are these people ordering?” 

A low grunt of agreement rumbled behind you, “Tell me about it.”

The line inched forward at a snail’s pace. No, worse than a snail’s pace. Was time reversing? 

You crossed your arms over your chest, “The cafe up the street has food twice as good with half the attitude.” 

The stranger behind you spoke again, a tinge of irritation behind it. “I have to be back to work in thirty minutes.”

You laughed, exhausted, from the relatability. “Same, and it’s so dumb. I spend half my break walking to this shitty cafe, just to stand in line for ten minutes. I sprint back to work, and attempt to scarf it down in five. How the hell does an hour lunch turn into five minutes?” 

Ughhh, you were pulling your hair out… well, not actually. The swoop bun was quite sleek today. Couldn’t mess that up. 

“That’s a desk job for you.” The person sighed.

The words were a little too close to home. Who were you talking to? 

You finally turned around, and when you did, you stalled… like completely. The man behind you was tall, broad, and absolutely miserable looking. Somewhere between wanting to wither away and wanting to beat everyone's ass in this godforsaken cafe. 

His blonde hair was neatly parted to the side, and you couldn’t really see from this angle, but it kind of looked like he had a bit of a fade going on in the back perhaps? Maybe a little undercut or something? He was very handsome, and his features were sharp. Kento Nanami.

He radiated exhaustion and the kind of stoic indifference that only came from years of corporate suffering. You knew it all too well. 

“Tell me about it.” You laughed slightly nervous over knowing who you were talking to now. “Where are they overworking you at? Cause listen, I-”

Before you could finish talking, something slammed down hard on your foot. Your right black pump was scuffed. Why?

“Ow!” You reeled back.

A man had stepped in front of you, cutting in line. His heavy boot stepped on your foot in the process. 

You stare at the man with knitted eyebrows, just baffled at this shit. “Um, excuse you?”

“Excuse you.” He snaps back at you with unwarranted sarcasm. 

You gesture behind you at the line that stretched all the way to the entrance and nearly out the door. “The line starts way back there. You can’t just cut—and also, you stepped on my foot, hello?” 

The man barley even turned back your way, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “Shut up, bitch. I only stepped out of line for a minute.”

First of all… what? You didn’t know where to begin. The fact that he was in line, sure, but he definitely had been gone for like fifteen minutes. Or maybe the fact that he never asked you to hold his place. Or the fact that he was so casually calling you a bitch!

Yeah, he picked the right one today. You took a sharp inhale, preparing for rebuttal when- a delicate hand is placed on your back for a brief moment. 

“Excuse me.” The businessman stepped in front of you, partially blocking your view. “You can either step out of this line, or you can step outside.” 

Oh shit!

His tone was calm, but the weight of it was deadly. It felt like the temperature shifted. It was winter in Tokyo, but that ice had nothing on this man. It was suddenly very cold in here.

The man who cut you turned around and immediately froze up. It was as if he had sensed something primal and inescapable. A hulking businessman at the end of his rope? He didn’t want this fight. 

“Whatever. Food sucks here anyway.” He hurried away.

“Hold on.” He placed a powerful hand on the man’s shoulder, “You stepped on her foot.”

It wasn’t just a comment. It was a very stern suggestion to do something about it. Make amends if you will.

The wiry man looked at Nanami with the fear of God in his eyes before turning them to you. “My- uh, my bad lady.” He shrugged out of the light grasp and hastily left. 

Nanami took a step to the side, gesturing for you to resume your spot in front of him. Almost like the warmth had returned in one fell swoop. Could this guy control the temperature or what?

You turned to him with a grateful smile, “Thank you so much. That was very kind. You didn’t have to do that.” 

Before he could respond, the barista’s sharp voice rang out. “Hello?! It’s your turn miss there’s better food up the street.”

Oh damn, she heard that? 

You bowed politely to the man behind you once more before stepping up to the counter. The menu loomed before you and suddenly you went blank. What did you want again?

“Hmm…” You tapped your fingers against the counter, eyes skimming the options. “Strawberry danish… nah, might be too sweet. Chicken Pesto Sandwich- I’m not gonna finish that. Miso butter toast?” You sucked your teeth, “That’s not a meal though…”

The barista sighed loudly, “Are you being serious? You spent all that time complaining about the service and you have the audacity to come up to this counter not knowing what you want?”

This lady was so rude, but unfortunately she was very right. You couldn’t even be mad. 

“Hold on, that’s not true. I know what I want… I juuuuust…” Panic began to set in. Fuck! You were taking too much time! “I waaaant theeee…”

“Ma’am?!”

“Hojicha dirty latte and gochujang miso grilled tofu?” You regretted it right after saying it. Why were you trying something new? This never ended well. Oh well.

“Finally.” The barista huffed under her breath as she began to put in your order. 

Before you swiped your card, you leaned in a little bit. “Oh, can you also ring me up for a hazelnut espresso for the guy behind me?”

It was your way of saying thank you. After she took your name and you paid, you’d scan the cafe for an open seat.

Like the heavens above blessed you with luck, a small group walked away from a booth. Ah! Yes! And they didn’t leave a mess. Amazing.

You swooped in immediately and slid into the seat. You’d smooth down your black pencil skirt before sitting down. Yes, a black skirt suit is what you wore. Black blazer and white button up with a black tie. Just like the guy behind you said- that’s a desk job for you. 

You’d pull out your phone while you waited for your name to be called. The cafe remained a chaotic blur of white collar workers rushing in and out. Groups of college students huddled in conversations. Overworked baristas slamming espresso shots into machines. Meanwhile you were half tuning out when you got a message notification.

Your best friend and coworker. It was always a risk opening her messages in public… or private. You clicked it open absentmindedly and immediately regretted it.

[Kaya 🤡]: LOOK AT THIS DICK PIC MY STALKER EX SENT ME! LOOK AT IT! WHY WOULD HE SEND THIS?!?!

Your phone nearly slipped your grasp as you attempted to click off, “Holy-” You slapped the phone face down on the table hoping no one in this crowded ass cafe happened to see. 

It was never a dull moment with this woman. The two of you met back in high school. You remained tight despite going to different colleges, and serendipitously ended up working at the same office. 

With a heavy sigh, you typed back: 

[You]: Why the hell would YOU send ME this?!

The message was read immediately, and three little dots danced as she typed back.

[Kaya 🤡]: Because I needed to share my pain. That’s what best friends do. Now you have to suffer with me.

[You]: Block him.

[Kaya 🤡]: No, because then where would I get my daily dose of horror?

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head with a faint smile. This was absurd, but it was also the nature of your relationship. Never failed to exhaust you. Never failed to entertain you.

As you buried your face in your phone, your peripheral vision caught movement. You glanced up to see a small plate with mont blanc set in front of you. Chestnut strands cascading in delicious swirls and dusted with powdered sugar. Mmmm!

Your eyes traced the retreating hand that placed it there, following it up the sleeve of a well tailored black suit. Oh..OH! Him!

“Consider it a thank you for the coffee.” He gave an almost imperceptible smile.

You gazed up at him with a slightly amused smile. “I bought the coffee to thank you for earlier though. Seems you’ve one upped me.”

His expression didn’t change much, but there was something subtle in his eyes. Something knowing.  “So it seems.”

You exhaled a small laugh, “Well at this rate we’ll be locked in a cycle of favors. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of commitment.” 

He made a faint sound, almost a hum of amusement, though his face remained neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, “Where did you say you worked again?”

“I didn’t.” He replied simply. “But I work about three blocks away. Stockbroker.”

You let out a knowing- “Ooh. Salaryman?”

He exhaled through his nose like something caught between a laugh and a sigh. “Something like that.”

You pointed at yourself, “Human Resources. I’m in that similar direction.” You nodded to the empty seat, “Would you like to have a seat? I dare you to find somewhere else to sit. It’s packed in here.”

He hesitated, “I couldn’t impose.”

You rolled your eyes with a light scoff, “Sure you can. It’s just a seat, not a ticket to a luxury resort. If it were, then yeah, I’d reconsider.” 

Something flickered in his gaze. Interest perhaps? Small, but distinct. “Dream vacation, I assume?” 

You nodded, resting your chin in your palm. “I’ll only talk about it if you impose on my lunch break.” 

He gave a soft nod before taking a seat opposite you in the booth.

Hell yeah! You just secured the sexy salaryman at your table! Okay- play it cool…

You smiled, “Just so we’re not total strangers, you can call me-”

You perked up upon hearing your name get called for your order. Finally.

“That.” You gestured toward the counter, “You can call me exactly that.”

For the first time the faintest trace of amusement crossed his features, “Nanami.” He nodded, “And I appreciate your generosity.”

“You’re welcome Nanami.” You pushed yourself out of the booth, “I’d ask you to save my seat, but then you’d be one upping me again and I just can’t have that. I will be right back.”

You made quick work of collecting the food you definitely didn’t care to eat or drink before you returned to the table. You’d scoot back in the booth and start digging into that mont blanc.

“So,” he prompted, lifting his cup. “Tell me about this dream vacation.”

You stuck your fork into the dessert, a smile crossing your face before you started, “Oh, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. It’s been a long time coming.” “Let’s hear it.”

“Malaysia.” Your smile softened. “Waking up in an overwater villa with the waves gently lapping beneath me. The sunrise spilling gold across the ocean. I want my mornings to be slow. Just wandering the streets, sipping teh tarik. Maybe visit the market and buy some tropical fruit. Quiet afternoon in the Cameron Highlands. At night I wanna see the lantern lit markets and just enjoy the life of not having to send another goddamn email explaining that begging your coworkers to invest in your pyramid scheme does not qualify as networking… even if for a moment.” 

The words just poured out of you. It was unfiltered and passionate, and although Nanami didn’t outright smile, you noticed how he never interrupted. He sat with his elbows on the table, fingers loosely curled around his espresso cup, and his hazel eyes fixed on you. 

You’d continue, your eyes turning slightly out the window beside you now, “I think I’ve been putting it off because I have a feeling that if I go I’ll probably never come back.”

There was a silence. Comfortable silence. Like the words were being considered and taken in. But it was then that you realized that was probably way too much to be saying to a stranger.

“I am so sorry.” You frowned just slightly, “I feel like for someone who works HR I should know social boundaries a little better. That was probably a lot for someone I just met.”

The blonde shook his head, “Not at all.”

There was no false politeness in his tone. No empty courtesy. It was just calm and measured with sincerity. It was like he meant it. 

You took another forkful of the mont blanc, “I usually don’t talk this much.”

“I usually don’t listen this much.”

Well that caught you off guard. 

“So what I’m hearing is, I’m special?” You tilted your head, smirking.

“I might phrase it a little differently, but sure.”

You chuckled, “Careful Nanami. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He exhaled, “Well, slip of the tongue I suppose.”

You grinned, “Well since I completely overshared, it’s only fair you do the same. Dream vacation. Let’s hear it.”

You could see his eyes almost dim. Like there was something so real about the answer he was going to give you.

“Home.”

Shit…

Maybe it was an answer far too real. If home was a dream vacation, then that meant he was being far more overworked than he ever let on.

The conversation continued, and the hustle of the city roared outside. It felt like time was kind enough to slow down for you just a little bit so you could enjoy this conversation with a relatable stranger. 

The smell of brewed espresso and cinnamon wafted through the air. It was like a warm moment of peace. 

“Yeah, so I studied at Duke. Four years, in and out and then I came back to Japan.” You shrugged, “What do I have to show for it? A mountain of debt hidden by a prestigious name.”

Nanami made a quiet, amused sound. Almost like he knew.

“That sounds like higher education.” He took a slow sip of espresso. “And unfortunately, not an uncommon story.”

You sighed dramatically, slumping in your seat just a tiny bit, “I know, but you see, I had this idea that I could be the exception. Get my degree, come back, and just boom! Instantly land a high paying job with a great title and live up to my full potential.”

“And instead?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Instead, I came back as another statistic, Nanami.” You sat back up.

Your words were clearly amusing to him.

You leaned forward now, resting your chin on your palm, “I didn’t go to one of the best schools just to have some underqualified middle manager with a big ego push all their busywork onto me… but according to my bank statements- yes the hell I did.” 

And with that, something incredible happened. You actually got the stoic man to laugh. Not exhale. Not smirk. Not just a hint of amusement. A low, but very real and genuine chuckle. That honestly felt like a win, and you would certainly count it as one.

You wouldn’t call him out for actually having laughed for the first time during this conversation, but you were going to internalize it for sure. 

Still smirking, he rested his arm on the table, “Alright then, tell me this. What is the worst part about your job?”

You let out a long, suffering sigh, “Oh God, I have decision paralysis now. There are so many options. I guess I have no right to really complain because I just got this job like three months ago, but it’s the same shit as the last job. The work life balance speech they sell you during orientation is a joke.”

The man nodded as his intrigue deepened. “Yes, the infamous corporate lie.”

You nodded, “Yeah, they're like we want you to thrive. We care about our employees. Take your time to adjust. Go at your own pace.” Your eyelids lowered in irritation, “Then a month in they start sending emails at 11:42pm like- Hey can you circle back on this?”

There it was again, you coaxed another laugh and it was so worth it.

He set his cup down, “And of course they follow up the next morning asking you something else as if you weren’t already up to your neck in work.”

You slapped your hand against the table. “Exactly! And you can’t even be mad because technically they didn’t say you had to answer last night, but if you don’t you're suddenly not a team player and you’re the unreliable one in the office now.”

The blonde sighed deeply, “Ah, corporate manipulation at its finest.” He’d pause for a brief moment, “So you think there is more to life than just work?”

It was a simple question, but he asked in a way to gauge where your head was at. It wasn’t that he was seeking an answer to some deep philosophical question. But, come on, did he know who he was asking?

“I think that most people convince themselves that work is the means to an end, but that’s just because they don’t know what they’d be doing otherwise.” You shugged, “I mean there has to be me more to life than this, because I for one cannot put up with this shit for the next forty years.” 

He’d chuckle once more, and you could tell he was getting comfortable with doing so.

You’d continue. “I think life is about building character.” Your fingers traced the rim of your now finished latte. “It’s not about standing on the shoulders of giants, but becoming one yourself. Forging your own path.” 

Once again his gaze was steady and calculating. Listening.

“You either stand with the greats or look up to them as far as I see it.” You grinned, “And I don’t know about you, but looking up for too long makes my neck kinda hurt.

He laughed once more, “You’re an interesting one.”

What a compliment! Or, at least you’d take it as one.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated against the table. Your alarm! Shit! You were supposed to be back already. Your lunch break was over, and you were officially late. It was worth it though. This conversation was nice. 

“Damn, back to work for me.”

Nanami finally took the last sip of his espresso and collected the trash from his lunch. “Same here.”

You smiled at him, genuinely, “This conversation was a surprising pleasure.”

His eyes stayed locked on you, like he was taking in the moment one final time before the interaction was up. “The pleasure was all mine.” He’d pause for a beat, “Should our paths cross again, you can just call me Kento.”

Ah! Your heart! Did it speed up or stop?! It was so hard to tell! Kento?! First name basis?! 

“Alright, Kento. I’ll be seeing you.” You’d gather your purse and your tray with your now eaten lunch before heading back to the corporate battlefield.

You’d take a half step away before turning to him again, “Thank you.” Your voice was softer this time, “It’s been a long time since I laughed like that.”

He didn’t know it, but you felt like you were drowning lately. It was like you both met at the end of your rope and somehow combined it to buy each other a little extra time. It was more than just a pleasant conversation, for both of you.

Your feet felt like anchors now. Were you really about to leave? You were going to let this sexy salaryman with all this potential walk out of your life like that? Your heart was pounding. Could you ask for his number? Would that be weird? Too suggestive? Shit!

You’d take a few steps away, but something was gnawing at you. Don’t do it. Don’t leave yet! You turned around…

“Hey.” You both spoke in unison.

“Yes?” You replied first.

“Please, after you.” 

You hesitated, forcing your nerves down, “Do you want to exchange numbers?”

His eyes stayed on you, and the faint smirk crossed his lips, “You read my mind.”

Play! It! Cool! 

You pulled out your phone and handed yours to him, and he’d do the same for you. This was not the day you were planning on having, but honestly, after all the corporate bullshit you’d been putting up with lately… it was the one you deserved. 

Kento Nanami

New Contact: Saved

[lunajay33]

Not as Planned Part.2

•🤍🧺⛓️‍💥🪽•

Summary: Kozik was your world and with a baby girl on the way everything was becoming clear, but you worried for his safety with the cartel, happy being both of your best friend he was always there to reassure you, but what will the future hold?

Pairing: Kozik x f!reader, Happy x f!reader

Included: Pregnancy, Character Death:(, Depression, Grief, Flashbacks, Fluff, 18+

Part.1

•Masterlist•

I pull up to the clubhouse, taking the bag of cookies and baby stuff and heading into the shop to show Gemma, she loved this baby stuff

“Sweetheart you’re back already!”

“Yeah guys are out on the run, best I come back here and wait for them! Happys mom gave me some things I thought you’d love to see!”

She drops her pen and gives me her full attention as I pull out the blankets and cute baby clothes

“It’s crazy to think crazy Happy was that small and innocent once” she laughed

“Isn’t it, his mom is desperate for grandbabies and a daughter in law trust me” I say as I snack on the cookies

“Really? She got a soft spot for you?”

“Yeah but that’s just her, she’s a sweet old lady, she just wants happy to have someone”

For the rest of the day I help around the club house, cleaning up, organizing Happys dorm, mine and Koziks dorm too, he even bought a little bassinet for Lily so when she comes we can keep her next to the bed

Even though this life is crazy I couldn’t wait to start this family, Kozik is so excited, always talks to my bump every night promising he’ll always keep her happy and safe

He’s gonna make an amazing dad and I’m excited to see that, the hard biker all sweet in his little girl, he was the most gentle of all the guys in the club, don’t get me wrong the guys are gentlemen’s when they want to be but that was Kozik, my husband, he was just born that way, and I tell him all the time how lucky I feel having found him

Breaking out of my thoughts I hear the rumble of motorcycles pulling up in the lot outside, stepping out as the sun is setting, painting the sky in hues of pinks and oranges

I hold my bump feeling like a kid in a candy shop, giddy to see my man, I walk along the bikes to where Kozik usually parks but he’s not there, so I turn to happy who parks next to him, he takes his helmet off and his head hangs low

“Happy? Where is he?” That unsettled feeling came over me like it did this morning

He walks over standing so close, he wouldn’t even look at me

“Happy please talk to me, where is he?” My voice quivers and I feeling my stomach twist, his hands take the sides on my arms holding me steady as he finally looked at me, the guys all watching from their bikes

“We were out with the Cartel, after some people, he went ahead through this field, we didn’t know”

“Didn’t know what? Happy don’t tell me what I think you’re gonna say” I suck in a breath trying to hold my tears

“It was a minefield, he couldn’t get out fast enough……..it’s was over fast” his voice deep as my hearing started to ring, my knees weak as I dropped to the ground, Happy catching my fall before my knees hit, I couldn’t even cry I felt sick, I felt numb and then everything went black

•

Happys Pov

Seeing the look on her face broke me, she’s been such a constant joy in my life, when Kozik introduced us I was suspicious, he was a good friend and I’m wary of new people

But when I spent more time with her and Kozik I saw how much she really loved him, they were everything to eachother, different than the usual relationship between bikers and their ol ladies, he was always gentle with her, never raised his voice and I saw why, she was a bundle of joy, always caring

Seeing him blow up on the minefield put a rip in me, not just because he was my best friend but because I knew how worried she got about this, knowing the crew wasn’t safe and now she’s left without her husband and a baby who will never meet their father

I hold her limp body in my arms as the guys surround us panicking

“Wake up girl, come on” I groan worried as I tap her cheeks

“She’s in shock, bring her to her dorm, I’ll make some comfort food for when she gets up” Gemma says

I pick her up with ease and carry her to the room she shared with Kozik when they’d crash here, laying her in the bed placing a blanket over her and taking her shoes off

I sit in the chair they have in the corner of the room, rubbing a hand over my face

“Shit” I’m not good at this emotional shit I don’t know how to navigate through this but I promised Kozik if anything ever happened I’d take care of her and make sure she wasn’t alone

Looking at the baby bassinet in the corner out a lump in my throat, he always told me his worries about the way the club was going late at night, the threats with Tara, the pressure from the Cartel and IRA

Thought Jax was out of control and it was gonna blow back in us in one way or another, I always told him it would be fine, they’d figure it out and we were so close to getting out, he was so close

And I promised him I’d take care of his girls and I’ll protect them with my life so they won’t hurt again

The door opens and chibs comes in carrying Koziks kutte placing it on the bed next to y/n

“Awful shite, lil lassy like her don’t deserve this” he says leaning against the door frame

“No she doesn’t, I’m so angry, I’d rip those men apart piece by piece if they weren’t already dead” I say not taking my eyes off of her

“She’ll be okay brother” I shook my head

“You didn’t know their relationship like I do, they were intertwined down to every fibre of their beings, this is gonna break her”

“She’s still got you Hap, she’s got the club to lean on”

•

Normal Pov

I feel him holding me like he always did when we slept, my big biker always came home to cuddle with me and it always made me smile, I turn to get closer to him but when I put my hand out it lands on leather and not a warm body I was use to

Opening my eyes I see the bed is empty and only lays Koziks Kutte and then all the memories come flooding back and reality sets in……he gone

The tears fall immediately and I bring the kutte to my face breathing him cologne in

“Please god no” I cry so hard I can barely breath, I just had him with me this morning, he swore he’d come back to me

I feel a hand on my back and I look up to Happy sitting next to me, the sorrow written all over his face was something I’ve never seen, he was always either straight faced or joking here and there, this just made me feel worse but atleast he was still here with me and felt a bit of what I’m feeling

“This wasn’t suppose to happen Happy, why him? He got his life together, he quit drugs, he was happy with me, so excited for our baby and starting a family, why us?”im a mess as the tears blur my vision and soak into his shirt as he holds me

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have let him go” he grunts his voice more deep than usual and I know he’s trying to keep his emotions down

“It’s not, it’s Jaxs fault, Herman was scared he told me, he got my husband killed because he’s a hot head” my despair was forming into rage, I push back from Happy getting off the bed and stomping out of the dorm, I hear happy trying to stop me, but I somehow out run him at 7 months pregnant, getting back to the common area I see him sat at a table and I see red as the tears still spill down my face

“This is your fault YOU BASTARD YOU GOT MY HUSBAND KILLED” I run at him wanting to rip him apart, the guys don’t do anything surprisingly but right before I could get to him, my hand met inches from his face I feel happy wrap his arms around me holding me to his chest

“Calm down girl”

“Calm down! I just lost the love of my life, I can’t do this without him” the anger wave subsided and I’m left a shell of myself again, like my half my heart was gone

“Look im sorry but how was i suppose to know this would happen” Jax says like no blame should land on him

“Everyone knew getting in with the cartel was a bad idea, he was so worried and now I’m all alone” I’m a blubbering mess

“Come on sweetheart I’ve made you some soup, maybe it’ll help, all this stress is gonna put you and the baby in the hospital” Gemma says as she holds a bowl of warm soup walking back to my dorm

“You’re not alone lil girl, I’m not leaving your side, I promised him I’d take care of his girls and that’s what I’m gonna do” happy whispers to me and for a split second I feel a relief but it’s gone just as quick as he leads me back to the dorm

I take Koziks Kutte and put it on, I don’t care if it’s against the rules I’ll wear this for as long as I can just to sense him here

How do I do this without the man I cherished with every morsel of my being?

•

Part.3

Lmk how you’re liking it so far

Taglist: @mamawiggers1980 @samcrosfaith @word-scribbless @tommyflanaganfan-blog @youngadult9016

[andypantsx3]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI : MASTERLIST

please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!

bakugou writing tag | universal masterlist

MULTI-CHAPTER

incendiary (30K) : complete

When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

you’re the one that i haunt (15K) : complete

Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.

statistically significant (24K) : complete

You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

cover shot (through the heart) (16.5K) : complete

For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.

war paint (28K) : complete

Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (A Mulan AU)

savvy (17.5K) : complete

You’re a business course third year who’s good at being bossy, organized, and data-driven. You just want to use your business savvy to help all heroes. Well, all heroes except one. [smutty one shot follow on: defiant]

barbarian-verse au (various) : in progress

You find yourself traveling with barbarian Bakugou. Things get complicated quickly.

ONE SHOTS

filling in (8.2K) - gn!reader

A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki. 

fruit first (ask questions later) (3.6K) - gn!reader

When the grocery store you’re in becomes collateral in a villain attack, pro hero Dynamight comes to your rescue. When you become armed with a handful of oranges, however, someone may need to come to his rescue…

abs-olutely worth it (3.5K) - gn!reader

You’re an amateur hero photographer whose shots of Bakugou’s abs keep going viral. Everything is going great…until Bakugou catches wind of it.

defiant (4.5K)

There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place. Katsuki, however, has other ideas. [a smutty oneshot companion to savvy; you do not need to have read savvy first!]

DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS

general bakugou x princess reader (1.1K) -> part two (3.2K)

Your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry. There is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne.

always (1.5K)

Best friend Bakugou helps you through a breakup.

todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)

The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.

destruction (1.6K)

"Are you this stupid on purpose?"

wine & dine (0.3K)

“Oh my god, I am gonna fuck whoever made this apple pie so hard they see stars for weeks.”

always first (0.7K)

“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling."

just can’t weight (0.8K)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" + gym bro Bakugou

personal chef (0.4K)

Living with Bakugou is like living with your own personal chef.

fan art (0.2K)

Bakugou has an embarrassing secret (ft super cute art from Merms!!)

[weirdsht]

LOL HI I HAVE A THOUGHT AGAINNN HEHEHE

Cale and the gang with someone who's a mermaid? They're scared shitless because of the insanity their fellow merfolk are expressing towards creatures that haven't done them anything too big. They can be transmigrated or just simply too self aware of what kind of people they are going to face if they keep meddling with other creatures' affairs with no reasonable explanation.

I love mermaids lol 😞

It can be platonic or romantic. I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE 🔥🔥🔥

Out of Their Minds - LoTCF & Mermaid! Reader

notes: thank you for enjoying my fics! I wrote something more lighthearted this time because I'm realised I kept writing angst. Low-key wanna do a pt.2 of this ngl. Also I know betta fishes live in shallow water but they are the most magnificent fish I have laid my eyes on so I wanted to use them

tags: mermaid reader, male reader (it wasn't planned, i was addressing to reader as a man before I could realise it lol), set after cale heals paseton, paseton/reader if you squint, i made a bunch of bullshit information about mermaids since there isn't much known about them anyways

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Out of My Mind (pt. 2)

Sigh 

“This is what you get for working with shady people…”

You stare at the three mermaid corpses on top of a big rock. It was the middle of the night making the sight more eery. It makes you nauseous. Especially as you notice how one of them is armless.

However, you didn’t pity them.

“Serves you right to be honest.”

You whispered in the corpse’s ear as you sat on top of the boulder. Your mermaid tail swaying against a part of the rock that has no mermaid on it.

“How did you lose your arm though? Did you anger the Whale Tribe so much that they took your arm as a souvenir?”

Looking at the sea you wondered who killed them.

“Maybe it was that ruffian called Archie? But I heard rumours from the fishes that the Whale King will beat him to a pulp if he goes too far.”

Humming in disbelief, you continued talking to the corpse as though they were still alive.

“Hmm, but you guys crossed the line first so I guess doing this much to your bodies is nothing.”

You started thinking about what happened to the mermaid tribe as of late. Some shady organizations came and made a deal with them. You didn’t know much but you heard the organization called Arm was asking for a sea route.

“Wait, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? You’re working for something called Arm and you lost your arm when you died.” 

With your index finger pointing out, you tried to poke the cheek of the armless mermaid. But alas you couldn’t do it. Too disgusted at their mummified looks.

“Eww, you all look so gross. Why am I even sitting on top of you all? I’m gonna go back now before that weirdo magic spearman who keeps calling himself my hyung looks for me.”

Grimacing at the thought of the guy who insisted you’re his family now, you tried to get off the boulder you were sitting on. You may be an orphan, but you aren’t desperate to acquire new family members.

Shaaaa

As you try to climb down, you hear a soft splashing sound from behind. It sounds like water being manifested out of thin air.

Wait… Water out of thin air?

That could only mean the Whale Tribe. Not just ordinary ones, but one of the Shickler’s children.

Panicking, you tried to turn around while climbing down. Which only resulted in you falling off the boulder and landing hard on your butt.

“Wait wait wait! Is that a sword? Oh my god, it’s Paseton. Wait no should I call you his highness Paseton?”

Teary eyes and mouth spouting a bunch of nonsense because of panic made the half-blood whale stop in his tracks. Usually, when he encounters a mermaid they would spare no time attacking him.

“Are you about to discard those bodies in the water?”

“What? No way! If I did that those weird people would find me sooner.”

“Weird… People?”

Paseton lowered his sword and you relaxed a little. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand before addressing the whale’s confusion.

“Yeah! You should know about it already. I heard the turtles talking about how the mermaids are haunting you because you found out they were working with humans! Oh, but you don’t seem hurt, good for you!”

You gave him a thumbs-up as if you weren’t on the verge of crying because you fell earlier.

The half-blood whale finds you weird. It looks like you have no intentions of hurting him. In fact, it looks like you’re supporting him?

“...You’re that rumoured eccentric mermaid. Son of the previous mermaid leader.”

“No need to make it sound good. I know the rumours actually call me crazy and not eccentric. But yes that’s me, the crazy orphan whose parents got assassinated by mermaids. They're the real lunatics if you ask me.”

Paseton hesitantly shook the hand you offered.

“But why are you here? I heard you’ve gone missing and the mermaid tribe are worried sick looking everywhere for you?”

“You’re one to talk, I heard your sister is going crazy looking for you too.”

Letting go of his hand, you began to explain what happened.

“You already know about it but the merpeople are getting help from above ground. That was also why they assassinated my mother, the previous mermaid leader. She wanted to straighten out the relationship between our tribe and yours. She also initially refused the offer that the humans made. Look where that got her.“

Because of that you became wanted by the merpeople too. They framed it as looking for the lost heir but what they really want is to capture you to exploit your abilities.

As thanks for not killing you, you explained your special abilities to Paseton. Your poison is three times stronger than normal mermaids. You also possess the ability to heal any poison that comes from water and it’s creatures in it. Another special ability of yours is transforming into a fish. A secret ability that only the direct blood of the true mermaid leader can possess.

“My poison is strong enough to do this.”

Stretching your arms, you demonstrated your poison to Paseton by letting it out on the mermaid beside you. This rendered the already armless mermaid tailless.

“The sight is disgusting each time. Not pretty at all.”

You gag as you watch the mermaid’s tail turn into green goo before it sizzles, leaving no trace behind.

“So what do you think? I was planning on leaving these bodies but I can get rid of them for you. In exchange, you’ll let me be on my merry way.” 

Paseton nodded and you took that as a cue to start disintegrating the corpses with your poison.

“Where do plan to go now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The mermaids have gone crazy, I’m too scared to even look at them. Both the whales and the whale tribe won’t leave me alone if they see me because they’ll think I’m one of those lunatics. Maybe I’ll forever transform into a fish and create a fantasy nation and call it Lemuria or something.”

You said it in a joking manner but Paseton can see the fear in your eyes as you talk about the merpeople. At that moment the whale tribe prince pitied you. You have essentially become an outsider with nowhere to run to.

He was about to make an offer when a water whip struck beside you.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about, now a water whip is out to kill me. Wait waterwhip? Witira?!” 

You desperately looked at the man in front of you.

“Hey, I helped you get rid of the bodies right? You said you’ll let me go right? So please explain to your sister I didn’t do anything.”

“What are you doing to my brother?!”

Witira’s angry voice from behind made you look at his brother more desperately. Paseton nodded as he walked towards his sister.

“Noona stop, he doesn’t mean any harm. We were just having a chat.”

“With a mermaid?”

Paseton begins explaining what happened to Witira. From how he gets help from a noble to you helping him get rid of the mermaids. He also explained how you’re on the run from the mermaids and the people working with them.

As Paeston speaks you tried to use their distracted state as an opportunity to go back to the sea.

Keyword being “try”.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You feel the humpback whale half-blood scoop your fish form from the shore. 

“A betta fish huh? You’re quite pretty.”

Good thing you’re a fish so the siblings wouldn’t be able to see you blush. Your fins did shine a little brighter though. Light blue with a red and white undertone that makes you look purple glistened under the moonlight. 

But there’s no way they’ll know that’s how you show being flustered in fish form so it’s good.

“What do you want with me? I already did my end of the deal~”

You whined and flopped around Paseton’s hands, throwing a tantrum. The man only chuckled while his sister watched in amusement.

“Yes, yes. But I want to make another deal.”

That made you stop flailing around.

“Turn back first. The water in my hands is running out, you already splashed most of it out.”

Obeying, you transformed back into your mermaid form. You expected Paseton to put you down then. However, he didn’t and decided to carry your bridal style instead.

He may be the weakest of the whale tribe but his still stronger than most humans.

“So what do you want?”

You crossed your arms, pouting because you lost your chance to make a getaway.

“Well, I was thinking of taking you back with us. You have nowhere to go right? You can just live with us.”

Both you and Witira looked at him quizzically. 

“What’s in it for you?”

“We’ll use your abilities when fighting the mermaids. You also have an information network that consists of sea creatures right? We’ll use that too.”

“Those are my friends, not a measly information network thank you very much. Also, didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m scared of mermaids now. I can’t even look at them.”

“Who says you have to look at them?”

You questioned what Paseton was saying. Meanwhile, Witira observes his brother. She agrees with his plan. After hearing what happened to you and your abilities, she knows you’ll be a useful card.

However, she knows her brother. And she knows that the way he's looking at you means more than what his entailing. He also seems confident that he’ll get you to go home with them before the sun rises.

Hmm, maybe that’s her fault for spoiling him too much…

“You don’t have to face them yourself. You don’t even have to leave the Whale Tribe village if you want. You’ll just have to use your abilities from far away and help us defeat the mermaid tribe.”

“...”

You mulled about it for a few seconds. It’s not like you have anything else to lose as you already lost everything. It is also true that you have nowhere to go. Your sea creature friends can only hide you for so long before you have to run away again. It also doesn’t seem like the humpback whale is lying.

Plus Paseton is pretty cute.

Wait what?

“So I don’t have to face them?”

“No.”

“Will I have my own house?”

“Hmm, not yet but I have a house that’s separate from our family residence. You can live there with me”

“Not bad… You promise I won’t meet them right? Including those crazy people that keep calling themself my new family.”

“I promise.”

“Can you buy me a large fish tank that’s installed in my house?”

“Making demands already? I’ll have a custom-made fish tank and pool, just for you.”

“Okay, deal!”

You raised your arms in celebration, already thinking just how beneficial this whole ordeal was for you. You’ll just have to provide them with your assistance that’s being used for the greater good and you’ll be spoiled as a compensation? Sweet.

Witira only shook her head at your conversation. She could already tell she had a lot to explain to her father once the three of you go home.

Oh well, as long as her brother is happy.

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

More fun stuff!

America’s Sweetheart

Can be read as a one shot, or in conjunction with Nice to be Kneaded.

Series Masterlist More Fun Stuff Masterlist

Nomad Steve x Baker reader

3,621 words

Reader finds a way to make Steve’s birthday special despite all odds

You sat cozy on your couch, relaxed as could be. A movie played quietly, your softest blanket was thrown over your lap, legs propped up on the coffee table, and your favorite fugitive next to you fought off sleep so hard he could barely even pay attention to the movie anymore.

It was one of those rare nights you decided to work from home to spare both you and Steve a night at the bakery. Sure, he could've found ingredients to organize and endlessly dust flour off of shelves, but it was important to you that he got relaxing nights with peace of mind, and no manual labor.

With your laptop open, your last task of the night was to look over the schedule and make sure everything was ready to go. Themed treats for upcoming holidays were thought of, time off requests were approved, supply deliveries were marked on time.

A date on the calendar caught your attention. The Fourth of July was quickly approaching, so you placed an order of red and blue sprinkles and some extra food coloring just to make sure you had enough to supply the small town with all of their themed treat needs. For such a quaint place, everyone around took the fourth very seriously.

Then faster than a bullet train, you nearly gasped as you got hit with the realization... Captain America's birthday is on the Fourth of July.

You looked over at your sleepy super soldier and couldn't help but to smile at his long hair flopping onto his face but being too tied to even fix it.

"Stevie" You quietly caught his attention, reaching over to rub his arm.

"Hmm?" He replied, turning his attention towards you.

"What do you want to do on your birthday?" You asked him while closing your laptop. If you had to choose between working another minute, or snuggling the sleepy hunk of a man next to you, you'd always choose the latter.

"My birthday?" Steve furrowed his eyebrows at your question, sounding genuinely confused. "Wasn't gonna celebrate it this year."

His eyes widened at your immediate pout to his statement, but his arms welcomed you and pulled you closer as your body cuddled up to his. He kissed your forehead as you settled in, but you looked up at his sweet face again. "There was only one wrong possible answer to that question, and it's the one you just gave me."

"Holidays are busy for you at work anyway, don't need to add anything else to that chaos." His beard tickled your neck as he shoved his chin onto your shoulder. "I didn't celebrate last year either. It's not that big of a deal."

"You didn't even tell me when your birthday was or that it was coming up." You pouted, sadness lacing into every work you spoke. "If the date wasn't so painfully obvious it would've passed by and I wouldn't have even known, and I feel like you did that on purpose."

"It's okay Sunflower," he mumbled before placing a kiss to your shoulder. "I don't really like my birthday, so I'd rather just skip it."

Your pout deepened even more at his statement. Of course circumstances aren't ideal, he was in hiding so there wasn't much you could even do with or even for him. He couldn't spend it with his friends or chosen family, and it's not like you could take him to a fancy dinner at a fine dining restaurant, but you knew in your heart you could still make the day special.

"Why don't you like it?" You questioned.

The sadness in your eyes was killing him slowly, and quickly melting away the walls around his heart. "I guess I liked it more when I was a kid, but as I've gotten older it's always gotten more complicated. There's always so much pressure surrounding one day of the year and I usually end up on some sort of parade float for the city anyways. It's not really my birthday anymore, I always just feel like a holiday novelty."

"That makes me so sad." You admitted before Steve kissed the pout right off your lips.

"Don't be sad, it's fine." He grabbed your blanket from the couch and pulled it right back over the two of you. "This year has been quite taxing, emotionally and physically so every day I get to spend like this with you feels like a gift. This is all I want."

"You're very stubborn." You noted, shaking your head. "Your mere existence is practically a miracle, and you don't think that's worth celebrating."

"I think you might be the only person who feels that way about me anymore." He mumbled.

That statement made your heartbreak, and caused a physical pain in your chest. You knew now that this was a sensitive subject, and you've probably pushed too far.

"You know damn well that's not true." You said seriously, looking right into his tired eyes. "And I'll prove it to you."

"That sounds a little more than mildly threatening." Steve grinned.

"Good, I'm glad. You should feel threatened." Your arms squeezed him tighter and you snuggled impossibly closer to him. "Because you're very special, and you deserve to feel that way."

"look who's the stubborn one now." Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Happily." You kissed him. "I'm taking advantage of the fact that you're too tired to even argue, but we can drop the subject because I want you to sleep well tonight."

"That's so sweet and so mean at the same time." Steve grinned.

"It comes from a place of good intentions." You clarified.

"I know it does, you have the biggest heart I've ever known." Steve agreed. "So if we must celebrate my birthday, this is all I want. If you happen to find some spare time on the fourth, I will happily spend it with you."

Finally, your pretty smile poked through. "I guess that's better than refusal."

"Shall we agree to disagree and call it a night?" Steve pitched, tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Only because I care about you so much." You laid your head right on his chest.

"No! Don't get cozy!" Steve sleepily giggled. "Let's go to bed."

"Fine, fine." You sat up and let out a yawn as he stood up from the couch and stretched.

He reached out his hand to you, seemingly offering to help you up. But the second you placed your hand in his, he hooked your arm around the back of his neck and picked you up like a groom would his bride.

Your laughter warmed his heart all the way up the stairs, then your arms held him appreciatively as he carefully set you down on your bed and got in next to you.

A few kisses and affirmations of nothing but the sweetest dreams to come was just about all the two of you had any energy for before falling asleep shortly after.

The next morning, Steve went off on his daily run and you headed off to work leaving your mind perfectly free to devise a plan to make his birthday as special as it could possibly be.

You knew he was a very chill guy. He did everything on the down low and never liked to bring too much attention to himself, even when he wasn't in hiding. So if there was one thing you knew for sure, especially after your conversation about it, your plans needed to be just as chill as he was.

You were so chill about it, in fact, time flew by without you even bringing his birthday up again. So as it approached, Steve nearly forgot about it.

The night of July 3rd, your plan started wonderfully. Though the two of you would usually watch a Pixar movie since Steve hadn't seen most of them, you were able to sway him towards the perfect Disney movie... Tangled.

You got him to watch the whole movie with you, and even managed to get both of you through it without either of you falling asleep before the ending.

Ever since you learned about Steve in history class as a teenager, you found his birthday to be rather interesting. The chances of a sickly little boy born on Independence Day growing up to be the face of the country's best fighter was probably less than one in a million.

Every year on his birthday, fireworks lit up the sky over the whole country, much like how every year on Rapunzle's birthday, the entire kingdom let go of lanterns to float in the sky in hopes of finding her.

Perhaps your parallels weren't enough for Steve, he didn't put two and two together. Or maybe he saw some connections but didn't say anything, but regardless, the context was bound to make your plans for his birthday even more special.

The worst part of the whole day was that Steve was correct, holidays at work were very busy so you couldn't take the whole day off to spend with him. But, you still made some arrangements to make his time away from you feel special.

You got up extra early, just about 3 in the morning, to sneak into his house to decorate his living room with balloons, and a cute happy birthday banner you strung across the mantle. Just to cover all your bases since you knew he wouldn't accept any real gifts, you also left him a card with a cute note written inside, all his favorite snacks, a new hat and a super cute hoodie, and a few chocolate chip cookies just for good measure.

A few kisses to his temple while he was asleep, tucking him in tighter before you left, then you were off to work. You pretty much helped customers all day long with the exception of making Steve a birthday cake and decorating a custom sugar cookie order.

When you got off work, you quickly ran home to shower and change into some comfortable clothes before making your way to Steve's house once more.

Using the side gate and entering the back door, you smiled at the sight of Steve walking towards you.

"Happy birthday, Stevie!" You smiled excitedly, happy to finally get to spend time with him.

"Thank you, pretty girl" Steve smiled right back and greeted you with a kiss before pointing at the cake box in your hands. "What's that?"

"Your cake, silly. What else would it be?" You questioned with a giggle and set the box down on the table.

"I have a bone to pick with you." Steve playfully scolded.

"Already?" You questioned. "We haven't even gotten to the fun part!"

"I told you I didn't want this to interfere with your already busy day, and I know you got up early, and I know that took time away from work." He said pointing to the cake box.

"Oh but you're just so cute I can't even help myself." You fake complained. "Plus we actually get to eat this so we both benefit."

"I'll let you get away with it this time, but this behavior is unacceptable." He continued joking, referencing everything you've already done for him.

"Well, don't speak too soon because I have to admit I'm a bit embarrassed about something."

Steve preemptively giggled at your admission as you started opening the top of the cake box. "What happened?"

"I realized while I was making this earlier that you never actually told me how old you are, so I had to secretly google you at work so nobody would know I was making you a cake. Then google was telling me all sorts of nonsense about how old you could be but I refuse to believe what it said, so I had to do math which is not my strong suit." You explained. "All of that is to say I committed, and it could be completely wrong."

He stood behind you with a hand on your lower back, peeking over your shoulder. Never expecting what was to come, he nearly choked on a knot in his throat and had to try really hard to not let tears well in his eyes when you showed him the cake you made.

It was small and round, his favorite color green, perfectly piped borders on the top and bottom, the perfect sprinkle mix, and it read 'Happy Birthday, Stevie!' With candles that said 33.

You looked back at his face to see if you got it right, but you were met with an expression you couldn't quite gauge. With an awkward giggle, you asked the dreaded question "Oh no, it's wrong huh? How old are you?"

"No, no, you got it right." Steve shook his head and finally got himself to smile and chuckle at his own reaction. He wrapped his arms about you from behind. "It's just- this is the first time I've ever had a cake that wasn't red white and blue. I really love it, it's so pretty. Thank you so much"

"What? That makes no sense. Your favorite color is green so why would you have a red white and blue cake?" You asked as if it was the easiest, most obvious choice.

You didn't even realize how much something so simple to you meant to him. He knew two things for sure right then and there, the first being that him being captain america meant so little to you that you couldn't even fathom why he hated his birthday so much, and the second being you were the only person since the 40's to make him feel like himself again. You didn't use his birthday as an opportunity to make jokes about how old he was or what had happened to him, and you put forth your best effort to separate it from the holiday. He was so sure this moment was when he was certain he wanted to marry you.

"You're too good to me" Steve shook his head before kissing the top of yours.

"Save it for later, we're just starting the celebration." You smiled, turning around to face him. There was no containing your chuckle as he kissed you yet again. "Would you like 33 kisses today?"

"That's not enough." Steve denied, the blush in his cheeks spreading to the tip of his nose. "Some would say I'm actually turning 99 today. I would like 100 kisses. One extra for good luck"

"Oh, so now you actually tell me what you want?" You smiled. "My lips might fall off but that's a price I'm willing to pay."

"Okay then we probably shouldn't test that theory." He regretfully let you go.

"Here's the deal Rogers, I’m about to kidnap you and take you on a little hike so I need you to put on some comfortable clothes and get your beautiful booty in my car.” You pointed your finger at him. “I don’t want to hear any complaints!”

“Yes ma’am” Steve agreed with a smile before turning around to walk up the stairs. “Beautiful booty…” he repeated your words to yourself.

“And don’t you forget it!” You called out to him.

While you waited for him, you put the cake in the fridge but eventually got him into the car. After a short drive through the town and a relatively short hike up a hill, you set up a picnic at the very tippy top.

Together you sat on a plush blanket and ate Steve’s current favorite food which was ever changing, watched the sunset, and chatted away while waiting for the main event to start.

The sun fully left for the night at around 8pm, leaving nothing but the stars above you and crickets chirping to mask the sound of silence. You did eventually turn on and tune the little radio you brought with you to the right station that will synchronize with the towns firework show.

With a few minutes to spare, you finally explained. “The sunset was lovely, but I have ulterior motives.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve’s lopsided smile poked through. “Do tell more.”

“I told you I was going to prove to you that you’re very special and everyone else still thinks so.” You pulled a pair of headphones out of your backpack. “I made you watch tangled for a reason.”

“What’s the reason?” He asked curiously.

“Every year on her birthday, rapunzel watches the lanterns from her bedroom window because she thinks they’re beautiful and helped her feel less trapped in the tower she was stuck in. She always felt like they were meant for her since they always happened on her birthday.” You explained. “I know being on the run also has you feeling quite stuck, but I think it’s beautiful that every year on your birthday the whole sky is filled with fireworks like they’re meant for you. This is the best view point from the whole town, but it’s always empty because nobody knows it’s here. I thought maybe we could watch them together, and maybe it’ll bring you some peace when you see how many really light up the sky. In the least creepy way possible, before I even knew you I always thought of you on this day and really took a moment to appreciate how your existence inadvertently affected my life and so many others. If thats just what little old me was thinking about, imagine how many millions of people are still out there thinking of you tonight”

Steve looked dumbfounded for a few moments even after you explained. You continued to blow him away, and never ceased to know exactly what he needed to hear in the hardest moments in this crazy newfound life as a nomad. He didn’t quite find the words to respond before you started talking again.

“I know that sometimes someone in your line of work can have a hard time with the sounds that come along with fireworks, so I brought you some noise canceling headphones just in case. Or we can always just head home if you don’t want to..” you became a bit unsure of your choice when you realized you could damn near send the man into a panic attack.

“No. No this is perfect.” Steve shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat once more. He had no idea he could ever be loved this much, so much that you didn’t even have to say it with words for him to know it was true. “I don’t even know what to say. I think this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

You smiled and snuggled up to his side. Tightly wrapping your arms around him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You don’t have to say anything at all.” You rested your head on his shoulder. “I think they’re going to start any minute now. Would you like the headphones?”

“I don’t need them when I have you to protect me.” He grinned and rested his head on top of yours.

Over the radio played an announcement that the display was now starting.

“Okay here’s the part where I prove to you that you’re still America’s sweetheart.” You told him. “If I remember correctly, every year the show starts with…”

Steve started laughing as Star Spangled Man started playing on the radio, and fireworks illuminated the sky. From up close and from a distance, the view was so good he could see them from neighboring towns miles and miles away.

“You know this song, right?” You asked Steve sarcastically. You knew damn well he had heard the song about him hundreds of times on his USO tour.

“No, I’ve never heard it before” he responded just as sarcastically.

“You know, if the hatred for you was actually as bad as it feels for you, they would’ve stopped using this song last year.” You explained. “But look, it’s still here and people still love it, and people still love you. Even in this teeny tiny town that doesn’t even know you’re living in it.”

Steve nodded in understanding and he choked back more tears. He wrapped his arms around you just as tightly as you held him, and for the remaining 25 minutes both of you were so mesmerized by the lit up sky no more words were spoken to each other until after the grand finale.

The very last firework in the sky fizzled away, and he finally found the words. “You were right.”

You smiled. “It wasn’t about me being right, I just wanted you to have a good day.”

“I’m not even exaggerating, but I think this might be the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He said genuinely. “Thank you, I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, sweet boy. Even if this is the only birthday of yours we get to spend together, I hope you know that every year when the fireworks go off, where ever we are in the world, I’ll always be thinking of you.” You kissed his lips.

“That might be even sweeter than the cake waiting for us at home.” Steve smiled, taking your words to heart.

“The only thing that’s between us and that cake is a hike down a hill.”

“In the complete dark.” Steve added. “Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Not when I have you to protect me.” You admitted, standing up to start the process of making your way back to the cake. Steve stood up, and under the moonlight he just looked to beautiful you couldn’t even resist giving him yet another hug.

He happily accepted, and rubbed your back in appreciation.

“Happy birthday, Steve.”

[captainsophiestark]

Recruit

Grant Ward x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: Marvel

Day Six Prompt: "I'm not giving up."

Summary: Grant and his mostly ex girlfriend have a long history together. She's spent months trying to live two lives, one staying in touch with him post-Hydra and the other as a member of the original SHIELD team. Now, SHIELD's on the path to kill Grant once and for all, and she's gonna have to make a choice.

Word Count: 2,521

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed, trying hard not to roll my eyes as I stared straight ahead. A little over twenty minutes ago, some Hydra higher-up had come in to bark orders telling us to keep our backs against the pillars and not flinch. This was the next in a line of ridiculous recruitment tests, but for me, it would hopefully be the last.

The sound of tires screeching on the concrete floor on the other side of this massive, abandoned warehouse told me I might just get lucky.

Barely a moment later, I saw a bright red car darting between the pillars not too far from me. Every single recruit stayed stock still, not even their eyes tracking the car's progress. I was the exception. I couldn't help but follow the car as it sped between pillars, trying to get a glimpse of the man I was looking for.

The car took a corner a few rows away from me, and I finally got a clear look. Some former Hydra exec was holding onto the hood for dear life, screaming his head off. A big, burly Hydra enforcer I'd seen a handful of times before sat in the passenger seat. And the man of the hour, leading a coup within Hydra, drove confidently even in the narrow space.

Grant Ward.

As soon as the car was out of sight, I took a deep breath. Weeks of undercover work had led to this moment, finally. Grant had always been hard to find if he didn't want to be found, but since Daniel Whitehall's death and the downfall of the old Hydra, he'd had no choice but to open himself up to more risk of discovery. Hard to build an organization if you won't talk to anybody or list an address.

The car took a tight corner much closer to me than before, and I could see Grant talking to the guy in his passenger seat. They disappeared from my view again, and I tried to track their movement by sound only. Still, when he came flying around the pillar I had my back to, it surprised me. I didn't look down, but I could've sworn Grant came within a few inches of running over my foot. I couldn't completely hold back a flinch.

The red car came to a screeching halt. I glanced down without moving my head and found tire skid marks on the concrete. The guy on the hood had gone flying, but Grant hadn't moved. Finally, after a few long moments, he shut of the engine and stepped out of the car.

The enforcer in the passenger seat stayed where he was as Grant started heading in my direction. I returned to staring straight ahead, back straight against the concrete pillar. This time I didn't flinch, not even to glance at him when he stopped so close to me that my arm was brushing his chest. I glanced over at him, meeting his eyes briefly, then snapped back to staring straight ahead.

"You flinched," he said simply, his voice low. Still, I had no doubt it was echoing through the entire room. I didn't look at him as I replyed.

"...You got pretty close to me on that turn."

"Absolute faith is required from recruits," he snapped, almost before I'd finished speaking. I bit my tongue to keep my mouth from twitching into a smile, then replied.

"Yes sir."

I heard Grant huff through his nose, and in any other situation, I'm sure he would've been rolling his eyes. Years and years of SHIELD training were the only things keeping me from cracking a smile. The rest of the warehouse was deadly silent, as if the other recruits were holding their breaths. Grant didn't bother to address them as he grabbed my bicep tightly and tugged me away from the pillar.

"Kebo," he barked to the guy still sitting in the car. "Handle the rest of this for me."

"Yes sir."

Grant set a brisk pace through the pillars of recruits, his grip never loosening on my arm. I actually struggled a little to keep up with him, and every Hydra recruit we passed seemed a more unsettled than they'd been with Grant driving between them at Mach 10.

Before long, I realized we were heading for the elevators at the back of the warehouse. Grant pulled me inside with him, punching a button and then staring straight ahead, his grip like iron on my arm, as the doors slid closed on the warehouse floor. We started moving down, and I realized this must've been one of the last levels of Hydra recruiting, since they seemed to have a whole base set up here.

I let the silence hang in the elevator for about two seconds, then I took a breath to speak. Before I could get a word out, though, Grant cut me off with a squeeze of my arm. I knew him well enough to know that meant not here.

The doors to the elevator slid closed at last, and Grant pulled me along with him, through a deserted hallway lined with doors. Each door had a keypad on it, and honestly, the setup rivaled some of the things I'd seen at SHIELD bases.

Finally, Grant stopped outside a door at the very end of the hallway. With his free hand, he swiped a keycard and opened it, then pulled me in after him. He turned to shut the door, giving me a shove further into the room at the same time.

I caught my balance and came to a stop in the middle of a living room. Apparently, we'd ended up in the master suite for the brand new head of Hydra.

"How the hell did you get here?"

I turned around to find Grant standing a few steps in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. I put a hand on my hip and raised an eyebrow.

"You posted a pretty broad open-call for new recruits. Believe it or not, I've got the skills to impress a base-level Hydra recruiter."

Grant huffed and rolled his eyes, an incredibly familiar reaction. Since I'd met him at the Academy, Grant had been giving me that look.

"So you spent the past three weeks going through the trials with the rest of my innagural class of Hydra recruits? Why?"

"Because you've been ridiculously hard to find lately. And you haven't been answering my calls."

"I thought you were getting tired of the double-life. Checking in with me and then going about your day with the old team like nothing ever happened. I thought you'd be relieved."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

"You going radio silent on me is not a relief, Grant. Especially now."

"Why especially now?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and taking a second to look away from Grant. So far, I could more or less pass this all off to Coulson and the rest of our team as an attempt to get inside info on Hydra. It might raise a few eyebrows, but nothing I couldn't talk my way out of. If I kept going from here, I might not be able to go back.

I'd spent three weeks literally fighting my way here, through a sea of other Hydra recruits and a bunch of bullshit challenges. Honestly, I'd been walking the line for too long now. Grant and I had been through everything together since our Academy days, when we were barely adults playing at superspies. I'd loved him for a long, long time, and I couldn't just hover between him and my friends anymore hoping for the best.

I looked back at Grant. He stared me down, waiting patiently for whatever I was about to say. I'd tried a few times before now to get him to come back to me, and so far, I hadn't been successful. He'd done some truly terrible things, but all the same, I knew I just couldn't let him go.

"The rest of the SHIELD team's about to come at you a lot harder than before. They smell blood in the water with Hydra, and after what you did to Bobbi..."

Grant's jaw clenched, and I took a deep breath.

"That sucked, obviously, but... it's part of why I'm here. I've never seen the team so bloodthirsty, Grant. And I can't just stand in the room and do nothing while they're planning ways to take you out."

"Why don't you say something while you're in the room, then?"

"Don't you think I've tried?" I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my emotions in check. The team didn't know how much contact I still had with Grant, but they did know how I felt about him. They knew our history. But this time, it didn't matter. "Nobody's hearing it. They've held back from a kill shot for my sake before, but this time they won't, Grant. Nobody in there cares who or what you are or were to me. They're coming after you to end this, once and for all."

When I met Grant's eyes again, he actually looked surprised. I was fighting back a few tears, especially at the memory of the fight I'd had with Coulson about the fate of the man before me, and he looked shocked that I cared.

"Sweetheart..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. I saw the wall go up on his face, trying to block out me and any feelings he had that might force him to an epiphany. I frowned. "I am not a good man. Coulson, Fitz, the rest of our team... whatever they're saying about me, they're right. What's it going to take to get that through your head?"

"What's it going to take to get it through your head that I won't buy it!" I cried, moving forward until Grant and I were chest to chest. He didn't back down an inch, and neither did I. "These past three weeks, I've done the stupidest shit in my career since the hazingin my first year at the Academy. I've spent months lying to my closest friends for the sake of staying in touch with you, and dammit Grant, it was not so I could stand here and have you tell me you're not worth it! You're wrong, you are! We've spent more than a decade of our lives together, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder, or back to back through literal hell. I know you've had opportunities to take me out the way you've tried to take out other members of my team, but you've never taken them. And frankly Grant... I don't care what you've done. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I love you! I'm not willing to lose you. I'm not giving up."

"So how exactly do you see this going, then?" he asked, his voice grim and quiet, especially contrasted with mine. "What do you think happens next, huh? You think you bring me back to SHIELD? You did it, you saved me, and now the team welcomes me back with open arms?"

"Of course not!"

"Then what? What are you expecting? You want to join Hydra? I find that very hard to believe-"

"No! I want to run! You and me, getting the fuck out of here! Grant, I'm sick of spending my days hunting somebody I love. I'm sick of worrying every day that one of my closest friends is going to find him and kill him, despite knowing how I feel about him. Honestly Grant, I'm done with it! Let's just get out of here! You and I both know we're good enough to completely disappear if we want to. Hell, if you hadn't been actively recruiting, I don't know if I would've been able to find you!"

"...You can't be serious."

"And why the hell not?"

"Come on. You're seriously willing to abandon SHIELD for me? To become fugitives for the rest of our lives?"

I reached out and took Grant's hands, pulling them around my waist until he got the hint. He held me tight on his own as I put my hands on his shoulders and stared straight into his eyes when I answered.

"Yes. Absolutely yes. Look, if I'd been willing to join Hydra, I would've done it a long time ago. But I'm also not willing to be a part of the team that kills you. I can't stay with SHIELD and get what I want. So, honestly, what better time for the both of us to get the hell out? We were going to need an exit strategy eventually, right?"

Grant huffed a laugh, and even though he shook his head, his expression told me he was on the brink of giving in.

"The exit strategy we used to talk about included a nice retirement plan."

"Grant. We're spies. The peaceful retirement package was never anything more than a pipe dream."

The coner of his mouth pulled up in a smile, and I grinned right back at him. His arms tightened around my waist, pulling me into him, and I let my hands roam across his shoulders and the back of his neck.

"You're sure you want to do this? If you run away with me, you'll probably never be able to go back to the rest of the team."

"If this stupid revenge cycle goes any further, I'm not going to be able to go back to them anyway. Besides, I've put in my time. I think I've earned my retirement. I was thinking... somewhere tropical?"

Grant finally broke, the last of his resolve giving way as the small smile turned into a grin. He pulled me tightly against his chest and leaned in to kiss me, and damn if it didn't feel good. I'd missed being with him like this, the two of us on the same side, happy, and with a plan in place ahead of us. I deepened the kiss, and Grant got the message immediately.

His hand moved up on my waist to just barely slip under my shirt, but then he pulled back. I frowned, worried he'd started second-guessing our plan, but he quickly set me straight.

"If we're doing this, we need to go. Now. Kebo won't stay busy upstairs forever, and he'll start to wonder where I disappeared to. As much as I want to keep this going... I also don't want him interrupting us."

"You know, I have to agree. Besides, we'll have plenty of time for everything we want to do once we're out of here."

"Yeah. Yeah, we will."

Grant and I shared a smile, then I helped him make quick work of packing up the handful of things we might need. We slipped out of the place less than ten minutes later, both officially disappearing from our old lives without a trace. SHIELD and Hydra could fight it out without us. Finally, I had Grant back, and we were going to build our own happy ending. Together.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[ladymoody]

RED LIPSTICK

mattheo riddle x fem!reader

︎warnings: flirty, alcohol, smoke, drugs, throwing up, swearing, breast cupping, possessive behavior.

word count: 1,3k

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist ; navigation ; my website

it’s september again, a not-so-hot-month anymore, yet not cold yet. I was walking with blaise, wearing my favorite leather jacket and my hair down, a bit messy. we were heading towards draco’s manor where he was used to throwing huge parties for the slytherins and of course, he had invited us.

it was about midnight, and the streets were almost empty. blaise was walking beside me on the roadside sidewalk, protectively trying to keep an eye on passing cars.

“are you going to get high?” he asked.

“maybe. you?”

“is that even a question? malfoy hasn’t made a decent party for years, of course, I’m gonna take the opportunity.”

blaise chuckles, knowing that I will have ended up wasted like always and he will have needed to carry me to my room again.

(time skip)

the lights were flashing, enough to make you dizzy and confused. blaise and I were used to it, but the loud music tested our limits — I’ll admit that.

“grab my hand.” he said as he started to make his way into the thick crowd. I took his hand and I followed him, merging with the sweaty and dancing people. I could smell the alcohol and the smoke and I couldn’t wait to get drunk and forget.

blaise spotted draco and waved at him, draco saw us and approached us as well.

“zabini, y/l/n. welcome.” draco said.

draco and blaise chatted a bit as if I wasn't desperate to touch alcohol, and seeing them casually having a conversation with this loud music was annoying me more and more.

I started watching the crowd, checking if I could find any other friend of mine that I could leave blaise for, and there our gazes met. mine and mattheo's.

god, I hated that man.

everybody knew him, and I knew him too, maybe even too well for someone who hadn't had a proper conversation with him — but rumors spread quickly, and I knew for sure that he was a bad influence.

I saw him stop dancing, he was rubbing against a girl that I didn't know but she didn't look as if she minded, and he started walking toward me. not even a second passed without him breaking the eye contact with me and I was getting uncomfortable.

he had a drink in his hand and his usual cut across the bridge of his nose, he greeted blaise.

I didn't know why I was so disappointed but I thought he would come up to me. I knew we didn't talk much, yet somehow I had hoped for him to have a word with me instead of his usual male friends.

"what's up, zabini." they started chatting, and I couldn't help espy his eyes so lingering and magnetic.

"sorry, what was your name again?" he finally shifted his gaze on me and I felt a shiver running down my spine as his eyes laid on my lips.

"y/l/n. y/n yl/n." I said and he simply nodded, getting his attention back to blaise. this time I noticed how he stole more looks at me, maybe he didn't like my presence there.

mattheo and I met many times, yet shared so few words. the only time we talked was for a divination project — he was my deskmate and mrs. trelawney paired us. mattheo didn't really work with me and left all the work to me while was probably fucking around. I recall us organizing a meeting to work together but he never showed up.

I decided to go look for pansy, my best friend, and see how she was doing.

"excuse me." I mutter as I leave my friends to merge into the crowd. it was so hard trying to spot a brown-haired girl in a room full of flashing colored lights and people moving around everywhere, but somehow I managed to find her eventually.

"pansy!" I called her out and she turned around, immediately smiling at the sight of me approaching her.

we hugged and talked for a bit, then she led me towards the alcohol.

(skip time)

my vision was corrupted by the amount of vodka drunk and weed smoked, I couldn't stop laughing with pansy as we literally took turns throwing up in the toilet.

"how are we still fucking alive...?" pansy panted, grinning.

"I don't know, but I swear this is the last time I'm getting this wasted... it's too much and the idea of smoking joints while drinking wasn't the best, huh?"

"oh sorry for trying to indulge your urge to get completely vulnerable and plastered."

I rolled my eyes, and then the women's restroom door opened wide. I couldn't perfectly see who it was, but I could tell by the manly figure that it wasn't a girl.

"oh sorry, ladies." a familiar voice said. mattheo? as pansy started to puke in the toilet again, I stood up from the cold floor and walked to him to have a better view.

"what the fuck? this is the girl's restroom." I said, stumbling to get to him.

he chuckled and smirked at the sight of me being that drunk and goofy, but I could tell he wasn't so sober either.

"I got confused. I drank a bit and couldn't see the sign on the door." he casually said, incredibly close to me.

and there something inside of me lit up. I didn't know what it was, but the way he spoke to me, finally shifting his attention on me, looking at me with those big brown eyes of his and his innocent face — and mattheo was everything but innocent — made me feel... attracted by him.

"you're here all alone, y/n?" his voice snapped me back to reality, the way he remembered and said my name was almost electrifying.

"there's pansy-" I couldn't finish my sentence as his hand reached out to brush a strand of my hair off my face. I just looked at him confused, captivated, and needy.

I realized at that moment that I wanted him, even casually, but I did.

"why that red lipstick?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice.

"it matched the outfit."

"it doesn't suit you." he bitterly said. I was puzzled and slightly offended until he added something more.

"I'll ruin it for you." he said before crashing his lips to mine.

what the fuck. that’s what I thought. I had always thought of him as the “womanizer” and the type of guy that will use you, leave you, and think he owns you but still not want anything serious. he was somehow famous in the school and I hated him, but maybe the alcohol made me a bit bolder, a bit less of a thinker, and I just found myself not pulling away from his lips.

he pushed me backward as he kissed me, his hands firmly gripping my hips as he pulled them towards his. I backed against a door, opening it with our weight and stepping in.

mattheo’s hands were now wrapped around my waist and my arms around his neck. he forced me against the wall and kept devouring my mouth. it wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was more an angry kiss as if he was letting all his anger out on me. I wasn’t complaining, though.

his right hand started to wander under my top, getting to my bra and cupping my breast to squeeze it hard. I let out a moan at his gesture, and he immediately broke the kiss.

“wear less makeup next time,” he said as he pulled away, opened the door, and headed towards the restroom exit. my lips were now swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and my red lipstick was almost fully gone. I stood there in confusion, looking at him with a mix of lust, anger, and disappointment.

damn.