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So like..... Jason Todd. Yeah? We know him? Second Robin? Kidnapped and tortured by Joker? Arkham Knight? Severely fucked in the head cause of Joker? Did I mention Joker ruined his life? We still know him? Cool. So Jason Todd x Joker's daughter–

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feeling cute today might get in a fistfight with my annoying coworker later 😌💕💕

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Sweet Little Sugar ✧ Benny Cross

Benny Cross x Fem OC Drabble ✧ Warnings: Short, not a x reader cause it read better with specifics, unedited, sorta a part two to this

"Look at you..."

Annalise smiled softly at Benny's mumbled words.

That damn Benny Cross... He was always so sweet...

He chuckled at the sight; his pretty girl wearing the baby blue dress Johnny's wife had gifted her at the last picnic. And what a gift... Simple, sure, but on her? Benny woulda believed it was a million dollars because that's what his girl looked like.

It was different. Annalise always wore trousers and shirts–practical as opposed to pretty–but here she was. Pretty as a flower and twice as sweet. It was different.

Nice different...

Benny pushed off the pool table that he had been leaning against before meeting Annalise halfway. He stopped before her, the tips of his old boots inches from her pretty white flats. "Look at you..." he muttered again, taking his hands from his pockets as his blue eyes looked her up and down, noticing how the soft blue fabric fell on her form.

From the sweet doll-like shoes she was wearing to her pretty little twin braids, he took her in before he took her hand in his. "Give me a spin, doll," her requested, voice filled with awe.

Annalise let him guide her in a small twirl. The flowy skirt of her dress lifted slightly, and she laughed softly to herself when a few other bikers at the bar gave playful whistles. "Looks good?" she asked to the only man there who's thoughts really mattered to her.

He smiled, pulling her a bit closer and leaning down to brush his lips against the freckles on the back of her hand. "Looks perfect, sugar," he told her, and by God did he mean every bit of it.

Benny's free hand went to her waist and he tugged her just a bit closer. Just a bit...

A smile spread on his face; a bit boyish and a bit sweet. A bit not so Benny Cross; rider in the Vandals; but more like Benny–her Benny, if she'd only have him. "What's a sweet little thing like you doing in a place like this?" Silly–stupid, really, but Benny decided it was worth it when she rolled her eyes. More specifically, when he saw that smile threaten to spread on her freckled face. As if she could hide that with a toss of her pretty green eyes. She could try though. He didn't mind a bit.

Annalise gave his chest a soft couple of pats before whisking him away to the pool table, hand in hand. "Are you in the middle of a game, Benny?" she asked him, eyeing the scattered balls on the green felt.

He eyed her instead, admiring the light in those sweet eyes and the carefree air around her. He liked her like this; happy.

Benny only responded to her once she turned around and looked at him expectantly. He shrugged before releasing her hand, opting instead to drape an arm around her shoulders and pull her in close to his side. "Nah."

The two men he'd been playing with had long since moved to the bar to give Benny and his girl some space alone.

Benny grabbed a cue and handed it to the girl under his arm. She took it and gave it a once over before turning her attention to the pool table. Her head tilted as her eyes moved. No doubt in Benny's mind she was figuring for a good shot.

Smart girl.

Always was.

"Was waiting for you," Benny finished saying before pressing his lips to the crown of her head.

Annalise grinned, a dimple appearing in her cheek like always and Benny fought the urge to kiss that too. Like always.

"You wanna break, babydoll?" he asked against her soft hair.

She could feel him smile when she nodded and that made her smile too. "Course I do," she replied softly.

Course she did. She always loved taking the first shot and Benny'd let her take every first shot. All she needed to do was show up and it was hers.

All she needed to do was show up.

And he was hers.

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Sweet Little Sugar ✧ Benny Cross

Warnings: Lots of self-doubt and depreciation from our main girl, not a x reader cause it read better with specifics, mentions of injury but nothing graphic, mentions of abuse but again not too in depth, a couple swearwords lol, not really proofread, kinda long, and maybe an ooc Benny Cross not sure lol

Annalise didn’t have much in life. She didn’t have the looks most men went for, or that’s what her dad told her. Untrendy long brown hair she often kept back in a messy braid rather than the puffy bouffant hairstyles most women her age had. Her dad said she was sloppy. She knew a hairstyle like that would get messed up at work. 

He didn’t like her freckles either. Said the fact she was covered in them made her look unkempt and dirty. He said she was undesirable and nothing like her busty blue-eyed mother. Annalise just liked to think she was average. She didn’t have much in life. Didn’t have a mother no more–only God knows where that woman had run to once Annalise was born. They weren’t too wealthy either; house bit on the simple side, clothes a bit on the worn, out-of-fashion side. Her dad said it was because she was lazy. Annalise liked to think she was doing her best. She didn’t have much in life, like she said. Just had herself, her drunken deadbeat dad, and her best friend who got into far too much trouble. 

A trail of smoke wafted through Annalise’s stuffy old bedroom. She never used to care for the smell, but now she didn’t mind so much. It reminded her of him anyway. Was a bit of a comfort now actually.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his voice a bit rough from the long silence between them–the disuse. 

He was always good at hiding his pain behind a wall of quiet and a face handsome enough to make a nun swoon, and as hard to read as a dirty secret. But his voice had traces of concealed pain, and Annalise could see the wince he tried to hide when he sat up in her bed.

She coulda scolded him for that; for moving and getting grime on her baby blue comforter, along with cigarette ash. But she didn’t. Instead, she focused on cleaning up the cut on his stomach from whatever altercation it was that he got into. Maybe that was why they got along so good; she and Benny. He was always hurting and she was good at patching people up–lord knows she had plenty of practice with it herself. “I’m telling ya, should see the other guy,” Benny mumbled through his cigarette. His lazy words were met with a disbelieving snort and the press of an alcohol-soaked rag on his stomach. He leaned his head back and took a good long drag of his cigarette. Annalise would’ve said it was to hide the pain, but part of her wondered if he really felt pain or just pretended to. With the amount of times he snuck into her room covered in cuts, bruises, and whatnot she’d assume he didn’t really feel them.

“Well,” she dabbed the wound with care, “if he looks half as bad as you, then I’d say he looks pretty awful,” she mumbled. He chuckled quietly, and Annalise looked up to meet his blue eyes when he did. She looked back down. “What’d you fight about this time? Was it about you wearin’ your colors again?”

That was usually what it was about; Benny refusing to take off his jacket because he was proud to be one of the Vandals, and he was loyal as a dog to Johhny.

Benny chuckled again, dry and rough. She oughta get him some water, she thought, but she continued with his wound for now. He lifted a calloused hand, using it to gently tilt Annalise’s chin so her big green eyes would look at him. “Not this time, sugar,” he assured her.

Benny shrugged lazily at her confused look, dropping his hand and leaning back against the headboard of her bed like it was his. He wouldn’t mind if it was–wanted it to be his too.

“The bastard insulted you,” he said like it was obvious.

“Insulting me?” she echoed quietly. He gave a lazy nod as he took another drag of his cig. Annalise watched, her green eyes falling to his neck, watching his Adam’s apple as he leaned his head back and blew out whisps of smoke. They twirled in the air and Annalise watched them dance as guilt filled her chest down to her fingers.

She never liked when Benny fought, but he fought for the gang–for a family. For something he believed in. She couldn’t tell him to stop–well she could but she’d never expect him to listen. She’d never tell him anyway, because he felt a loyalty to Johnny; to the Vandals; and she wouldn’t try to get in the way of that. Wasn’t her place anyhow. They were friends is all.

But when he fought for her, it was different, because she could say something about it. And she always did because like her father always said, she wasn’t worth it.

Annalise looked away and inhaled slowly before releasing all the air in a huff. She grabbed a roll of dressing and went about wrapping the cut in his abdomen. “Just let ‘em talk…” she whispered. “Ignore ‘em,” she added, knowing Benny wouldn’t be Benny if he ignored something like that.

“Never,” was his scoffing reply because he was Benny. Benny was a bulldog; would chew and tear whatever threatened what was his. 

He was protective by nature and Annalise was at the damn top of what he’d keep respected and safe. Always had been ever since she had stumbled in front of him on the road so long ago; beaten and bloody but so concerned about him when he had crashed after swerving to avoid her. He’d fought for her ever since, and not a thing in the world would keep him from continuing to do it. Not even the sweet girl herself.

Benny watched her as she worked, admiring her focus. He reached out and brushed a loose strand of her hair out of her face. She looked up at him when he did, holding his gaze for a moment before looking back down. 

“Just..” she drifted off and fumbled with the bandaging in her small hands, “don’t want you hurt… cause of me… is all..” she muttered.

Silly girl never seemed to get he’d bleed dead for her, no matter how many times he told her.

Annalise stood from the bed. She grabbed the bowl of dirty, bloody water and walked into her bathroom to freshen it up. Benny watched her go, his gaze tracking her small frame in wonder–always did. She was such a different little thing… never dolled up, never dressed fancy, and yet he’d never seen anyone more beautiful. He took another puff of his cigarette, blue eyes on the half-closed bathroom door.

After a few moments, he put the cig out and stood from the bed, ignoring the sting of his bruises and cuts in favor of following after Annalise. She stood in front of the sink, her gaze on her hands as she repeatedly rinsed and rung out the rag in hopes of getting most of the blood out.

It took a few tries, but soon the water was clear enough. She rinsed out the bowl and began filling it, leaning her head back with a quiet sigh.

Annalise caught her reflection in the mirror and she felt self-consciousness slip its hands onto her shoulders. Look at you, it seemed to say. Look at you… And she did look. 

At her face; the countless freckles couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes. They were years in the making and not so easily erased. Nothing could hide the sleepless nights, and nothing could hide the exhausted results from them.

Her plain brown hair was pulled back as it always was, only it was a bit messy, tousled from sleep. 

And she was wearing a nightgown, a simple light blue thing that was a bit small and a bit worn. The straps were thinning, and the material was threadbare in a few spots.  She could use a new one, but all her money was spent on keeping her and her deadbeat dad afloat.

Look at you, it said again, in all your pathetic, useless glory…

Benny watched her in the mirror. Watched her look herself over. Something was wrong, though he wasn’t sure what. Slowly, he walked closer, stopping only when his bare chest hit her back. He leaned closer, a hand on the counter on either side of her and trapping her in. Benny pressed his nose to the crown of her head, inhaling and taking the sweet scent of her in. It was a gentle, sweet, clean smell, one that had him closing his eyes and relaxing–always. It smelled like her. His Annalise.

“You good, sugar?” he asked into her hair, his voice a quiet rumbled against her back.

Annalise’s response was a small nod. She wiped her face, though there were no tears on it, and turned around to give Benny a small smile. When she smiled, a little dimple always appeared in her left cheek–burned her skin. Imperfection.

The smile was supposed to be reassuring. Was supposed to tell Benny that she was alright. Maybe it didn’t work, but Benny didn’t say anything and Annalise was glad. He just sat on the closed toilet as she directed and she was grateful. Annalise brought the bowl closer and then moved to stand between his legs. She looked down at Benny for once, and gave another small smile–this one more shy and honest than the last–before she tenderly went to work cleaning his face. She could say she was okay, but Benny knew better. Benny kept his steady gaze on her, blue eye tracing the lines of her face like fingers tracing brail–like he needed to read, to know what the lines meant. He could read her fairly well by now, and he knew something was on her mind–probably the same something her worthless father drilled into her pretty little head on the daily. She wouldn’t listen to him when he refuted it, not right now, so Benny kept quiet. 

He moved his hands from his lap to her thighs then up to her hips, his calloused hands catching on the thin fabric of her shift. Benny brought her closer, close enough her knees bumped against the toiled lid. He tilted his head back, allowing her easier access to his face. “How’s it look, doc?” he questioned with a lazy grin, watching his girl through half-lidded eyes. Loaded question, Annalise thought. Benny always looked good, even when he was beat to shit. Something about red on his pretty, scruffy face just made sense. Granted, it was always better when the blood wasn’t his. She looked from the cuts to his blue eyes–they must be sharper than the blade that hurt him. Annalise let out a small huff of amusement and shook her head with a fond smile. “Like you got beat up,” she said soflty, brushing some of his blond hair from his face.

Benny’s lip curved slightly at her response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. His hands shifted against her hips, moving up to the dip of her waist and then to her back. Those blue eyes of his moved down to Annalise’s hands and he leaned his head forward a small bit. “Nothin’ I ain’t dealt with before, sugar.”

He took her free hand in his–marveling at how small they were, yet how they were clearly working hands. Benny wasn’t sure how Annalise managed to get a job like she had; a sweet little thing like her doing demanding, hard work. He often wondered how she convinced her boss to give her the job. His thumb gently rubbed over her palm, tracing up to her fingers before he moved her hand in his and rubbed along her knuckles. He gave her hand a little squeeze before bringing her hand up and pressing his lips to the back of it, brushing a kiss over the patch of freckles found there.

Annalise watched him. She lowered her eyes when he kissed her hand, as if not seeing the feeling in his eyes would quell the feeling in her heart. “Benny…” she whispered, a soft reprimand she didn’t even mean.

He only guided her forward to straddle his lap. Annalise sighed but let him move her there. Her toes grazed the tiled floor as her legs hung off his thigs. Content, Benny moved her hand back to his lips and kissed her palm before placing it on his chest, above his beating heart.

Annalise’s fingers curled slightly against his warm skin. She shyly looked up at him through her lashes, pinching her lips together when she found he was staring at her. He held her like that for a few beats; his hand over hers while he languidly rubbed up and down her side with his other. She almost couldn’t feel his touch with how distracting his gaze was. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world because she was. She meant more to him than anything. Sometimes he wondered if she meant more to him than riding with the Vandals did. Sometimes he wasn’t sure.

“I did it for you, ya know,” he whispered, leaning a bit closer. “The fightin'… the bleedin’... all of it for you, Annalise.”

Annalise pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she looked away. “I know,” she whispered.

Her thumb absentmindedly rubbed against his chest, feeling his warm skin and heartbeat. “I know…”

She was worried about him again, and it made Benny huff quietly. He brought a finger to her chin and turned her face to his. “You worry too much, sugar,” he told her quietly.

“Well…” Annalise moved her hands to fiddle with the blond hair on the back of his head while his hands moved to rub along her slides, catching on her nightgown, “you do a lot to make me worry,” she whispered.

He couldn’t argue there because she was right. He got into trouble a lot. Never backed down from it and never ran. Did more harm than good for him most times, but he’d never change it because he was confident in his abilities to make it back in one piece. To… “Never gets bad enough that I can’t make it back to you,” he assured softly.

Damn Benny Cross… she thought when her heart fluttered like it always did with him. Her eyes fluttered and she met his gaze. Annalise clenched her teeth behind closed lips before looking away before he saw the way her green eyes watered. “I know,” she whispered again. Whispered because maybe she didn’t think she deserved that; someone who wanted to fight for her. And maybe she had rejected Benny so many times because she thought he could do better. Maybe she didn’t think she was worth it, but she knew Benny wasn’t lying. Not Benny.

Benny could read her like a damn book. He could see the way her face warmed due to the swarm of negative emotions welling up in her chest. He could see the way her pretty green eyes turned to glass and the way her shoulders sagged. 

And like always, he knew what she was thinking. She was thinking what she always thought when he voiced his feelings. He knew she thought she wasn’t worth it, and she had rejected him so many times because of it, saying he could do better and leaving it at that. And man did it hurt, more than a cut to his side or a snapped tendon in his ankle. Even now it hurt–always would till she made it go away with sweet words and soft touches, ones he’d dream about until they finally came to be.

Benny leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss to her jaw and then to her cheek. He sighed quietly, warm breath fanning on her skin. It would be futile to try to convince her she was perfect–worth more than anything else. Worth too much really, too much for a guy like him to deserve, but God did he want anyway. 

It was her good for noting dad’s fault, and he’d wanted to kill the abusive bastard more times than Benny could really count, but his sweet girl always begged him not to and he couldn’t say no to her, no matter how hot his anger ran. So he pressed another kiss to her skin and mumbled against her; voice raspy and a bit more hurt than he had intended. “Gonna tell me you’re worthless again?”

Annalise shook her head, a small pout forming on her lips as she mumbled a quiet “no.”

There wasn’t much of a point anyway. He’d just confess to her again and tell her what he thought, and she’d hurt him by rejecting him again despite the warmth in her chest and ache in her heart.

“Not gonna say that,” she whispered before lightly pushing on his chest. He leaned back, per her silent request, and she went back to cleaning his face.

Benny gave a low chuckle that reverberated through his chest. He’d heard it all before anyway; she’d reject him after some line about how worthless she was–a line of shit her shit-for-nothing father beat into her skull. She’d say no to a date, but she never said no to this because she was a sweet thing who never belittled his feelings even when she was rejecting them.

“I love you,” he said quietly, not missing the way her body shifted at his words. Not missing the tensing of her thighs around him.

He smiled; small but true; up at her and placed his hand on her thighs, fingers sliding under her nightgown just a small bit. Never further.

Annalise paused, not because she was surprised by his admission because she wasn’t, but because her heart skipped again. Stupid Benny Cross… 

Annalise pulled her lip between her teeth before letting it go and going back to wiping the grime from his skin. “I know,” she whispered.

“Always gonna love you, Annalise.” “I know, Benny.” And she’d always love him too. Maybe one day she’d be able to tell him properly.

To make those dreams real.

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MHA x OC Prologue

Warnings: Fire ig, just a lil snippet of the real thing, not full prologue btw

Tsukauchi found himself watching the limping hero instead. Then, his eyes went back to the fire. Something else exploded, and the inferno roared in response, echoing loudly into the siren-riddled night, reverberating a doubtless promise. The flames would not be dying out anytime soon. "What a nightmare," the man repeated.

"I have to agree."

Tsukauchi blinked in surprise before turning around. He only had a second to see the man before a badge blocked his view. "The Hero Commission?" he read stupidly.

'What's the commission doing here?' he wondered.Sure, it was a very intense situation, but representatives of the commission sent aid. They never came in person, not in Tsukauchi's experience. It would ruin their freshly pressed suits, the detective thought bitterly.

The relationship between the police force and the Hero Commission was tense. It had always been. The police wanted to solve cases and catch villains, whereas the commission seemed content to sweep incidents under the rug. Of course, they apprehended the villains responsible for the crimes–by whatever means necessary–but never let the police know who it was. That usually left the police with a severe lack of evidence and an abundance of cold cases. If that made the commission come to Tokyo, Tsukauchi wouldn't just sit back.

He carefully watched the man, taking in the plainness of his face and the neatness of his slicked-back brown hair. The professionalism of it matched his spotless black suit, the detective thought. The sunglasses were an odd touch. Tsukauchi chalked it up to a commission thing before extending a professional hand. The suit-wearing man glanced at the appendage with disgust before staring coldly at the detective. He retracted his hand, grateful the man hadn't taken it. 'Fine. I didn't want to touch you either.'

"My name is not important, and I'm already aware of yours," he said, voice just as plain as he was.

It seemed introducing oneself was another thing the commission wasn't fond of. 'See if I care.'

He did care.

The detective had always felt like he and the police force were under the commission's boot, and they always liked to remind him of that fact. They had always been that way. So eager to remind him how little he and the rest of the force mattered. Tsukauchi opened his mouth to retort, only to close it when Suit spoke. "I'm looking for someone," he stated plainly. Yet also, as if he expected Tsukauchi to care.

The detective was silent for a few beats before gesturing behind him. "Yeah, we all are. The one responsible for that can't stay on the streets."

'Even if the commission wants it under the rug,' went unsaid, but damn, Tsukauchi wanted to say it.

The suit didn't care, not even acknowledging Tsukauchi's words and what they implied. "She'll be in there somewhere," he nodded to the flames, "and you need to find her for me."

"She's–" Tsukauchi closed his mouth before opening it again, repeating the action a few times as he struggled to respond to the impossible order.

Did the sunglasses impair his vision or something? Tsukauchi looked at the absolute mess behind him. How was he supposed to find someone in that, exactly? Even if he could find one girl, the detective still needed to find the villain behind it all. He didn't have time to search for and identify a–most certainly–dead woman.

His face must've given all his thoughts away because the man from the commission sighed before–with great annoyance–putting one of Tsukauchi's main concerns to rest. "You don't need to worry about finding the culprit behind this. We know who it was and have already acted accordingly."

It wasn't a lie, the detective decided. Did it still piss him off? Yes. But he was more surprised than angry at the moment. Did they find the villain already? In the middle of all the chaos?

The suit didn't give Tsukauchi any time to linger on his confusion. He began speaking once again. "As for the one you'll be looking for–" guess he didn't have a choice, "–she's a small girl–four foot eleven inches, to be precise–with long black hair. However, her eyes are her most distinctive feature. They're a mix of blue, purple, and pink, quite difficult to get confused with someone else's."

"She'll be in or under the building somewhere," he added.

"She won't be alive," was the detective's immediate response, although it was regretful.

The man didn't flinch in the slightest. He was unbothered by the statement–more than expecting it, it seemed the suit almost wanted it that way–almost like he wanted her dead. It bothered Tsukauchi a little, but he pushed the feeling down, taking the man's card with a small sigh. It seemed he was going to be ignored once again.

"We don't need her alive."

Perhaps not. However, Tsukauchi began to wish the suit had just ignored him because the lack of concern behind that statement made his skin crawl.

"We just need to confirm where she is."

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yeaaaah soooo…. if you’ve sent me an ask an I haven’t responded, I’m sorry. My inbox here says I have 3 messages, but when I click on it, it says my inbox is empty…. so….. yeah…..

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Small snip, thought i had while I was working.

Imagine Simon waking up next to you, no biggie, not the first time he woke up next to a stranger.

Problem he does not remember who you are, how he ended up at your house. Whatever, Johnny's fault for wanting to bar hop, he just needs to find his phone.

That's when he notices a ring on his finger.

His brain stops working, he is sitting on your bed for 15 minutes staring at the golden band.

You, on the other hand, wake up screaming that there is a stranger in bed- even more- there is a gorgeous rock on your finger.

You're freaking out, marrying a stranger while your drunk was not on your horoscope for this week.

Meanwhile, Simon's brain is going through the pros and cons. Pros: you're handsome/gorgeous, this means he doesn't need to live in the barracks and have to deal with cleaning inspection. The only con he can think of is that he has to live with you due to the military policy on marriages and you've seen his face.

Well, looks like you're married, congrats.

Simon finally finds his phone to Johnny texting him what the hell happened last night and finds photos of your court house wedding.

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*sigh* the feminine urge to kiss a big beefy man so he calls me pretty

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Giddy, screaming in my pillow, kicking my feet because just imagine your fav’s warm chest under your ear… burying your face in his shirt… taking in his scent… smiling against his skin at the lazy way he draws his fingers up and down your spine, an action that both soothes you and makes you nuzzle deeper into his chest like you could make a home in the cavern of his ribs because you feel all fluttery and warm; nervous but in a fun, schoolgirl kind of way

Thinking about his hand on your hip, heavy and warm over the fabric of your sleepwear as you look up at him with a soft, content expression feeling all sorts of mushy and gummy and sweet because he’s got a life to live and probably a few things to do, yet he chose cuddling here with you and you feel like you don’t deserve it but you’re staying here all the same.

Unedited, feel like this applies to any and all characters really, just feeling uber mushy as of late… dunno

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Is anyone else obsessed with poetic compliments?

Like… not just calling someone pretty but…

“His hair was like snow and his skin like frost. He looked like a creature made of porcelain moonlight with eyes like glistening stars. Words could not describe how ethereal he looked when basking in the moon’s gentle glow,” she spoke softly.

“And I remember him that way. A man made of stardust, a man who looked to be the very moon itself...”

“I find him in the moon because that was always what he was to me. The moon, soft and gentle. He was brighter than anyone else, as if he belonged in the heavens not on earth as a man, but in the sky as a celestial body.”

“He is the moon in the sense that his pure and beautiful…”

She swallowed thickly, voice soft and tender as she spoke again. “And he is the moon in the sense that he is far out of my reach,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her eye.

And not just saying you like someone’s strength or that you think they’re handsome but…

“You say that as if you don’t look like a fallen star.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She smiled softly, kissing the tip of his perfect nose as her hands moved down his neck then to his shoulders.

“Dark,” she whispered, kissing his jaw, “perfect,” she kissed his neck, “and pure,” she kissed his throat softly.

“It’s as if the sky fell onto earth,” she whispered, her lips ghosting along his throat as her hands skipped over his wounded chest and gently moved against his stomach.

“A man made of steel and rock, my own meteor,” she breathed against him, kissing his collarbone.

“My own piece of heaven.”

Cause shit like that just makes me 🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧 frreeal

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Sometimes I long to go home even when I'm sitting in my living room surrounded by family.

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totally super random thought that just came to me for no reason but Sukuna totally has four arms and three legs

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Guys, guys I’m wheezing

So i wuz bored and my sister is obsessed with ai chat so I was like “Hey Imma try that shiz” and I did and I made a Bakugo ai and—

I made him too realistic

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None of you probably care but I just modded the shit outta Skyrim

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Book Girl

Heads up: Language, suggestive but definitely not descriptive, also Bakugo Katsuki (he comes with a warning), and unedited—super unedited

Kay, so, hear me out… Bakugo Katsuki and an author reader. Yes, ooh, ahh, I know I know. For those of you, and I am sure there are many, who have no idea what I mean, lemme explain:

Bakugo with a reader who asks him the strangest, borderline worrisome question about his work. “What’s it feel like to get stabbed?” “Have you ever gotten shot? With a gun? Explain it to me. How did it feel?” Sometimes he thinks you’re a little psycho but it’s oddly therapeutic for him to explain the worst parts of his job and not care about being judged so he don’t mind none.

Bakugo with a reader who patches up his wounds like a pro and mumble “this would be perfect in chapter twelve.” And he’s just staring at her like “ma’m I’m dying plz don’t immortalize this in literature.”

Most importantly (the thought that had me on this tangent), Bakugo Katsuki with his cute little writer baby who tests things on him. It’s never easy to deal with things either. It’s not, like, fighting related things. You don’t go up to him and ask him if you could put him in arm-bar or ask him if he could put you in an arm-bar (Actually you did ask him to do that cause you wanted to know how to get out of one but—)

She does this… thing where she goes up to him and whispers the nastiest shit in his ear, like, you know, innocent book girl shit. Ya’ll know what I mean. Book girls are fucking wild and they read the sauciest shit. So she whispers some knee numbing curse and Bakugo freezes like a little schoolboy who just found out what puberty hormones are and she has the audacity to take a step back, examine him like he’s a fucking lab rat or some shit, then ask him if that made his heart flutter. Like, bitch it made something flutter, the hell did you think saying that would do? Does he answer? The first few times it happened, he couldn’t. The next few times he tried to deny it but mumbled and slurred his words like a drunk. When he wasn’t caught horribly off guard, he started just throwing her over his shoulder and showing her what it did to him. (It really helped her with that one scene—)

But that’s not the worst of it. No. No no no. You see, before Bakugo, she had never been in a relationship before. She had never been in love before and she most certainly had never done anything physical with someone else before. He was her first everything. So she has trouble writing particularly steamy scenes, at least when it comes to describing everything and it has to be perfect. Well, that’s what a boyfriend’s for, right?

So, there are times in Bakugo’s life where his writer girlfriend just decides to make out with him. That’s a normal thing to do, they’re together, but she doesn’t just kiss him. Remember, book girl shit, girl goes fucking—well, Bakugo doesn’t know what but it’s ridiculous.

Kay, first time it happens: She comes up to him all casually and cute-like and asks if she can try something. Blissfully unaware Bakugo raises a brow but lets her and she takes his breath away with a kiss that’s all passion and it’s hot—he’s hot. He’s melting, actually, and she takes it further and put her hands in exactly the right places and just when he’s getting ready to go all the way with it, she pulls back. Bakugo’s never felt whiplash quite so jarring but there she was asking him how it felt because she wants to write the scene from a man’s perspective. She asking him all these questions and bro’s on a different planet right now, he can’t answer, kay. Like, give him a second to breathe cause he can’t find the air, ya know. And it happens, well not all the time but enough for the poor man to think she just isn’t in to him like he’s in to her. If she was, she would’ve been frustrated too, right? But she wasn’t and there he was, sitting alone like a fool while she ran off to go write it all down before she forgot.

But, well, book girls, right? Those freaky shits know how to please a guy so you can bet your bottom dollar that she made it up to him. Thoroughly :)

Or, alternatively, writer gf who doesn’t write steamy shit and just does all of this to fuck with him cause his reactions are *chief’s kiss*

[cascade05]

I must be suuuuuuper super hot or somthn cause these bots keep hitting up my inbox like a bunch of horny teenagers

[cascade05]

Convenience

This is kinda suggestive so watch yo self, unless you don’t wanna...

Thinking about Bakugo and his pretty secretary. She wears very business chic clothes, mature and sexy as oppose to cute.

Suit pants that hug her--not enough to be innapropreate but enough to make it obvious she works out. Suit shirts that dip into her chest a little bit, not enough to be immoddest but just enough to drive Bakugo wild. Stilletoes. Just plain black stilletoes, nothing else. She does have a pair of black flats tucked under desk and a pair of pristine black sneakers, just in case. When she wears pencil skirts, Bakugo is just about sent to his knees. And if the way the freshly pressed fabric hugs her hips wasn't enough, she dares to come into the office with a pencil skirt that has a zipper going straight down her ass.

It's the convenience of it that really gets him. How easy it would be to just pull the top zipper all the way down, exposing her lacy black underwear to him. (He only knows because she bent down that one time and he saw it ON ACCIDENT! When he thought about it that night it wasn’t really on accident tho—)

It's the convenience, he tells himself as he watches her strut out of his office. She's beautiful and just so conveniently always apart of his day, that's the only reason he can't stop thinking about her. It's not because she doesn't put up with his shit and it's not because she's constantly defending him when sponsors say something sour about him. It's definitely not the worried glances she gives him when he comes back from patrol a little more banged up than usual—he'd like to bang her a little more than usual when she wears that stupid skirt—

It's convenience, he thinks. He knows her and she knows him. Its convenience, he convinces himself. That's all.

Definitely not whatever the hell his heart keeps telling him.