#I bet he cleans up nice in his 30s

[c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s]

Imagine a pro hero Bakugo who lets only you call him by his first name. And exclusively calls you doll.

Pro hero Bakugo who will wear his mask in bed and will roll play like Dynamite just saved you from a disaster and you have to repay him ~somehow~

Pro hero Bakugo who’s 27 now and is a man. He’s learned to control his temper and his rage, so when you argue he doesn’t burn the whole building down.

Pro hero Bakugo who likes to dominate you in bed. Reducing you to a blubbering mess as he smacks your ass till it’s beet red, and then tenderly kisses it and will even ice it for you depending on how lost in the moment he gets.

Pro hero Bakugo who will pull your hair and sulks if one gets pulled off your head. As much as he wants to please you by being rough he forgets how strong he is sometimes.

Pro hero Bakugo who loves soft and fucks hard. Who trains daily and has burn marks all over his body from his younger more unstable days. Who still rages when he gets in the gym. Who will absolutely destroy the earth if anything ever happens to you.

Pro hero Bakugo loves to take you out on dates and will get dressed in his nice clothes that he bought from all the ads he’s modeled in.

Just some thoughts about an older and wiser version of Bakugo. I’d be reduced to absolute ashes if he was a teacher in this show

[sugawarassoulmate]

no nut november - nov 20

they put up a good fight but still couldn't make it...

(peachy had a very busy month so we're gonna ignore that this is late bc she wanted to finish it 😤)

farmer!ushijima & best friend!iwaizumi

word count: 330 & 531

cw: fem!reader, fingering, mutual masturbation, dubious consent (ushi and reader are drunk), infidelity (kind of), minors dni

farmer!ushijima

it might just be the alcohol in ushijima's veins telling him this isn't a bad idea but you're looking pretty in the dimly lit alley

he doesn't drink often but he'd thought he'd treat himself for a few at the bar after harvesting the last of his fall crops

it was a good season, one that exceeded his expectations, leaving him completely prepared for the cruelty of winter

you were already two shots in when you saw him, quickly challenging him to a drinking game and, uncharacteristically, ushijima accepted

and now the two of you are pawing at each other behind the saloon, ushijima's fingers already down your pants

and his fingers are so thick, filling you up more than your smaller digits would ever allow

"toshiii," you groaned, humping against his hand

you completely forgot about the stupid bet you made with your friends on a visit to the city last month

you were sure you could last the whole 30 days - you were single and aside from the occasional flirty jokes with a usually oblivious ushijima, there wasn't anyone else you were interested in

but now you're reaching into his jeans to pull his cock out

you're both gasping and breathing heavily into each other's mouths, desperate to get off

it feels nice to have ushijima, a massive, stoic man, groan with every flick of your wrist

you want him to cum first but once his thumb starts circling your clit, you don't stand a chance

even in the pleasure of your orgasm, you have enough sense to take care of ushijima, stroking him as the bliss racks through your body

within a few seconds, you can feel the warmth of his cum coating your hand

the two of you clean up as best as you can when ushijima mumbles, "sorry that you lost your game."

you can't help cracking up, finding it hilarious that he remembered the drunken conversation the two of you had earlier that night

best friend!iwaizumi

"uh huh," iwaizumi says, mindlessly tapping away at his controller. "no, you're so right, i can't believe he did that."

you're calling him again to complain about your boyfriend again

it was some stupid argument about whose family you were spending thanksgiving with - iwaizumi couldn't really care

"and then he just tells me to 'do whatever i want,' can you believe that?" you scoff

"no that's terrible, such a dick move," iwaizumi drones on, all of his focus on the game he's playing at the moment

every other week, you call up iwaizumi to have the same conversation with him - how much your boyfriend pissed you off and you want to break up

and, being the good friend that he is, iwaizumi lends his ear to listen (and his dick to comfort you after a breakup)

"i'm so done, he can spend thanksgiving alone. and the rest of his life for that matter," you huff but your threats hold no weight when the two of you are constantly getting back together

"can i come over? i don't want to be alone..." you ask after a few beats of silence

without thinking, iwaizumi agrees and you quickly end the phone call with a "okie dokie!! see you soon!"

it doesn't hit him for a few minutes but he suddenly remembers that he, oikawa, matsukawa, and hanamaki were doing that stupid no nut november thing again

you and your boyfriend seemed to be doing fine the whole month so and it wasn't like iwaizumi had any other prospects - not that he wanted any

but with you coming over (and being freshly single) there was no way he'd be able to keep his streak going

but iwaizumi is more disciplined than that and the two of you have been friends way before this weird....arrangement went down

he knows how to keep it in his pants and he can resist you no matter how hard you try

iwaizumi hajime is an idiot

it took less than half an hour for his dick to end up inside you

"fuck, haji, just like that!"

it was so embarrassing—your panties pushed to the side and iwaizumi's sweats scrunched only halfway down his legs

neither of you had enough patience to actually take the other's clothes off, like the moment was fleeting and could be ripped away at any time (and most of the time it felt that way)

"feels good? that's why you keep coming back, huh?" he grunts, pulling you into a kiss

you bite your lip, not wanting to admit that he was right but iwaizumi pins you to the mattress, plunging his cock deeper inside your cunt, forcing guttural moans from you

"not gonna admit it? that's fine, i already know, baby," he says, laughing when you cum around him

he follows soon after, not bothering to pull out cause he knows you enjoy the feeling of him filling you up

iwaizumi rolls off of you, taking a second to stare up at the ceiling. he knows the others will rip into him when they find out

reaching for his phone, he decides to get it over with before he helps you clean up.

©sugawarassoulmate 2023 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[papercorgiworld]

The Death Eater Drabbles 2:

Cuts and bruised egos

Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo, Draco and Blaise

Read part 1: Untie me.

You have to take care of your prisoner, which means spending time together.

Find part 3 here

You had been staring at a wiggenweld potion for over 30 minutes contemplating on whether or not to use it to heal your prisoner. You were short on ingredients, so you normally only used it for really bad injuries. And since your new housemate was still complaining and not crying of pain you really had no right to offer him the healing potion. However, you were really not looking forward to cleaning him up and healing every injury. It demanded that you stay in the same room for longer than 5 minutes and not just that you had to sit close to him. Thankfully he was still tied up.

Urgh, this is going to be a nightmare.

Mattheo Riddle

His legs were dangling on the bedside as he lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, but as soon as he heard you enter he sat up. “Here to give me my bath?” He asks with a smug smile. You sigh but make your way over and sit next to him. Mattheo’s eyes land on the bowl of warm water and the small towel you’re holding. He wants to say something snappy, but at the same time his face and torso are really hurting. So he keeps quiet and watches you dip the tip of the towel in the water. You try to clean off the blood without reopening the cuts or pushing too hard on the bruised skin. When you see him clench his jaw you immediately pull away. “I’m sorry, I’m almost done.” His eyes never meet yours and he simply forces a smile. “It’s nothing.” You stare at him sympathetically, not buying into his tough act. After a few more soft touches his face looks better. “You have a few small cuts, but they will heal on their own.”

You get up and want to head for the door when he urgently gets up as well, startling you. You watch him as he clearly searches for words, but he just clenches his jaw again. “Nothing.” Is all he says and sits back down on the bed. It’s then that you notice him wince in pain. You press your lips together. Why do I feel so bad for him? “Where does it hurt?” You ask and he looks up. Mattheo just shakes his head. “I’m fine.” You roll your eyes and put the bowl of water on the nightstand before sitting down next to Mattheo. “Right you’re so tough you don’t get hurt or don’t feel pain.” You mock him and he’s clearly annoyed with you. But before he can open his mouth your hand is already on his chest and slides down. When you press down on the sensitive spot on his side a painful hiss escapes him. He curses himself for being so vulnerable. “That’s your good mate, Harry’s work.” You’re a bit shaken by the anger in his voice. “Shouldn’t ‘ve picked a fight with him.” He looks at you, but you avoid his gaze and focus on unbuttoning his shirt. “Not like I had a choice.”

You look up and his dead and angry eyes lock with yours. “You must really enjoy this?” Mattheo snaps with venom dripping from his words. “No I don’t, but I bet most girls would pay money to undress you.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seems to be a success as Mattheo’s death glare falls. You’re done with the last button and examine the bruise on his side. “Nothing a simple healing spell can’t fix.” You pull out your wand and make the bruise fade. “Do you take such good care of all your prisoners?” You smile pleased that he’s calmed down. “You’re my only prisoner.” You answer as you get up. “Sounds like marriage to me.” You narrow your eyes at his horrible joke. “How about I get you some clean clothes?” His signature smirk is back on his face as he watches you leave. Oh please, (y/n), don’t be so nice to me, I might never wanna leave.

Theodore Nott

Theo lay on the bed and was resting his eyes, but when he heard the key flick his eyes flung open. “Missed you.” He quips with amusement ringing in his voice. He rolls to his side. You snort and go to sit on the bed. “I’m here to check your injury.” You push him back on his back. “Going to undress me, this is getting interesting.” Your lips form a line as you shake your head. “Don’t get your hopes up, Nott.” You unbutton his shirt and as expected a large cut stretched over his torso. “I won’t be able to heal it at once, but I’ll do my best to ease the pain.” His smirk fades as he watches you gently dip a towel in warm water to slowly clean off the blood. He winces in pain a few times. “I’ll be done soon.” You reassure him. Theo just huffs, an arrogant grin on his face. “I’ve had worse.” You look at him with a disapproving look. “That’s not something to be proud of.” Once the cut is cleaned you use a spell to heal it a bit and to bantage him.

Theo watches you as you clean the slightly bloodied water with one flick of your wand. “Okay, now let me look at that face.” As you reach for his cheek he pulls away. “It’s not that bad.” You sigh and roll your eyes. “Let me at least check. Otherwise you might end up scared.” Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Don’t you women love a man with a scar?” You let out a laugh. “I guess having a scar can be sexy, but trust me your pretty face already has a few small scars and that’s sexy enough for you.” You lean a bit over him and start cleaning his face. It wasn’t that bad, but it’s definitely better with all the blood gone. “You’re really taking good care of me, especially since I’m your enemy.” He suddenly blurs out, instantly regretting it. You look him in the eyes and give him a soft smile. “You decided to be my enemy, but I never chose to be yours.” You carefully push some of his messy hair out of his eyes. He pulls his face away from you. “You made a choice too.” He says bitterly. “Attacking people is a choice, Theo, but protecting the people I love that’s not a choice, that's just my duty.” Theodore just stares holes into your skull. “That’s a hollow argument, things are never that easy.” Your eyes linger over his bandaged torso. “You’re probably right.” You turn your eyes back to his face and force a sweet smile. “Anyways you look a lot better.” Theo nods softly. “Thank you.” His sincerity touches you. “Now, let me look, maybe I can get you some clean clothes.” I never wanted to be your enemy, (y/n), I never chose that.”

Enzo Berkshire

Enzo was sitting on the bed while leaning against the frame. When he sees you enter he jumps to his feet. “Change your mind?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You smile at his playfulness. “No.” You say and you give him a soft shove so he lands on the bed. “Your actions are giving me different signals. Pushing someone on a bed is clear language to me.” A giggle rolls over your lips and Enzo watches you with admiration. “I’m here to check on the cuts and bruises on your face.” You sit down next to him and push a few strands of his hair aside. You frown as you see one particular deep cut above his right eyebrow. “Hermoine is merciless. She slammed my face into a wall twice.” You don’t look at him as you dip a towel into a bowl of warm water. “Maybe you shouldn’t have attacked them in the first place.” You state as you softly swipe the towel against his face. “It was three against one. I thought that if I surprised them I could get away. I swear I wasn’t really trying to kill them.” You pull away for a moment to watch his expression trying to figure out if he was being truthful. You keep quiet not really knowing what to say. If he was indeed outnumbered he was probably scared.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.” Enzo speaks up as you start cleaning the gaping cut near his eyebrow. You simply give him a smile. When you suddenly pull out your wand Enzo jumps a bit. “No worries, I’m going to heal you so you aren’t left with any scars.” He lets out a sigh of relief and you tap your wand against his head healing him. “I’m not going to hurt you as long as you don’t try to escape.” You say while you put your wand away. Enzo offers you a bright smile. “It’s like I’m in heaven. I’ve got a soft bed and a pretty girl taking care of me. What more can I ask for.” “Maybe some fresh clothes?” Enzo nods and watches you leave in awe. Heaven.

Draco Malfoy

You walk in and Draco huffs in annoyance. He had been pacing around the room in frustration. “Ready for part two of our bad date?” You say referring to his earlier comment in an attempt to lighten the mood. A foul look appears on Draco’s face. “For your own sake let me just check your injury and heal you.” He narrows his eyes at you weighing his options. “Fine. But don’t jab your brute fingers between my ribs again.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “How about you drop the attitude and I won’t jab.” He ignores you and reluctantly takes a seat on the bed. Draco watches you carefully as you work your way down every button. “This is straight up embarrassing.” You raise a questioning eyebrow at Draco. “You, undressing me while I’m tied up.” He explains with a harsh tone. You roll your eyes. “Trust me, Malfoy, undressing ‘you’ wasn’t on my bucket list either.” “You probably prefer Potter then? A bit cheap for you isn’t he?” Your eyes fling up in anger, ignoring his half undone shirt that your fingers are still working on. “No, Harry is just my friend. But he’s not cheap. And honestly, I hate rich kids like you.” Your boiling frustration reaches its peak when the last button of his shirt won’t budge. In anger you accidentally rip his shirt. Draco’s eyes widen and embarrassment washes over you. “Sure, says the girl that literally tore my shirt off.”

If looks could kill you would be burying Draco instead of healing him. When he finally drops his arrogant smirk your death glare falls as well. You inspect the bruises on his side and he watches you in silence, adoring your beautiful features. “A quick healing spell and you should be all better.” You announce before pulling out your wand. “Don’t screw this up.” You simply narrow your eyes at him and cast the spell. “I feel better, you did well, I’m impressed.” Draco says in an attempt to sound grateful. You sigh, but refuse to get into another argument. Draco is disappointed by the fact that you aren’t entertaining him with snappy retorts anymore. He really doesn’t want you to leave so soon already. “This was an expensive shirt and you tore it.” You roll your eyes, but look at his bare upper half. You couldn’t leave him like this. “Alright, I‘ll see if I can find you a new shirt.” He nods and forces out a hesitant ‘thanks’ before you leave the room. Draco lets himself fall onto the bed. (Y/n), you can tear off my shirt anytime.

Blaise Zabini

You hadn’t properly set foot in the guest room and Blaise’s playful voice was already ringing in your ears. “Missed me?” You huff. “Not in the slightest.” He’s not convinced and continues grinning. “I’m here to fix up your face and make sure you don’t have any fractures.” Blaise stands up from the bed and walks towards you towering over you. “Just admit, (y/n), you missed me.” You reach for his face, gently stroking over the marks and bruises. Blaise’s playful smile drops. “Your friends would’ve never caught me if they hadn’t snuck up on me.” You frown, not impressed by his arrogant tone. “Pretty sure they said they stumbled into you by accident, not really the same as sneaking up on someone.” You push against his chest urging him to sit down on the bed. He complies, his eyes never leaving yours. “Harry is just trying to impress you.” A smile creeps up on your face. “Harry is trying to impress me? Sounds more like you’re trying to find excuses for being a sucky wizard.” Blaise immediately pushes himself up from the bed. “Am not!” You snicker at how easily he was offended. “Sit.” You command as you push him down again and pull out your wand.

“Maybe I just don’t want you to think I’m less of a wizard because they beat me in an unfair duell.” Blaise confesses and you stare at him for several seconds before looking down at your feet. “I don’t think less of you because you got caught, I just don’t trust you because you, you know, you joined him.” His lips part but no words come out. You offer him a sympathetic smile and get up heading for the door. “It’s complicated.” Blaise finally says and you turn around to look at him. “Yeah.” You whisper softly, understanding that it probably wasn’t his choice to get involved. As you look him up and down you notice how ragged his clothes are. “You really need some fresh clothes. I’ll be right back.” Much rather have a fresh start with you, but I’ll take the clothes.

[hecateslore]

💌

supervisor!Simon

posting another ch. in a couple, so sorry for the double tag 😬

But it was a Friday, there was no work tomorrow. You thought about it for a second and smacked yourself in the forehead. You open the phone app, and go to the call log. Your finger hovers over his number. You could call him back, but he’s probably in the shower. 

So you make him a contact on your phone. Was it weird, sure. Did you feel weird for it, oh absolutely. But he found your phone number throughout the files, so you were good. If you could keep score of all the crazy shit Simon has done just to talk to you. Yeah, he’s number one on the leaderboard. 

You begin to type, Hey. You then delete the three letter phrase, “It’s friday lmfao” you type. A response not even a minute later, “Just realized.”  You smile at his message, and that smile fades once you realize you’re texting your Supervisor on a friday night on your dinner table. 

“Did you take your luxurious bath?” you chuckle at your cheesy message. “It was a shower. Don’t like baths.” he responds. Three dots are on your end, you wait for his message. Then they disappear. You can almost hear his voice in your mind, just like his emails, short. 

You place your phone on the table, and get to cleaning your kitchen. Trying to rid him of your thoughts. Scrubbing the dishes from earlier this week harder than usual. You get a ping from your phone and your head snaps, looking at the tiny screen light up, a notification from your messages. 

“Any plans this weekend?”  the text message read from… Johnny? Your heart jumps a little bit. Your expectations lowered when you realize it wasn’t from Simon, not that it would be, he wouldn’t ask about your weekend. Not that you know, anyway. 

“None so far 🙃 why??” you respond, putting your phone back down, and picking up your recently used plate. Soaking it in the scalding hot soapy-water. Checking your phone for his text message, “You want to grab dinner on Sat.” 

You look over the message, thinking of a response, you could lie and say you do have plans, or you could just go and be a nice person for once. “Sure. Where are we gnna go?” 

“New place that opened up next to my house 😁” 

“Who uses emojis like that?” you cringe aloud, laughing off the second hand embarrassment, “I’ll see you saturday 🤪” you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. You finish cleaning the kitchen. And go back to your room, plopping on your bed, face first of course. 

You wanted to ask how his shower was, did he shower with warm water? Probably cold, military habits. He uses 785 in one, you bet. He has residency in your brain at this point. It was getting annoying. He’s been polite and you’ve just been lusting over him for almost a week. 

You almost wore out the battery in your vibrator last weekend. After the valentine's day party you definitely had a lady boner, there was something so sexy about Simon eating a goddamn grape, opening your chips, and let's not forget the rain incident. You were gonna combust. And it’s all his fault. He’s so smug, so handsome and that damned dimple. 

“I needa stop.” you say, face stuffed in your blanket. You lift your head up, and check the time on your phone. It was getting pretty late and you needed to get ready tomorrow, you also needed to buy a new outfit for dinner. 

-

You get up around 10:30, brush your teeth, make yourself  presentable enough to be with the rest of the population. A sweater and some sweats with your slides. Keeping your sunglasses on. 

You go to the Giant mart, having to buy some necessities for your apartment. Getting some soil for your baby plants, a couple bags of cat feed for the strays, some laundry soaps and an outfit for tonight. You stopped by the coffee shop in the plaza getting a drink (fuck starbucks!!). You drive to the giant parking lot, cussing at weirdos who don’t let you in or who are constantly taking parking spaces you were looking for. 

You finally find a space, farther than you would like, but hey, You found one. You get out of your car grabbing your things and making sure your sunglasses are on your face, trying to make yourself as unapproachable as you can , hoping you won’t see anyone from your past, present or job. You grab a cart and thank the teenager who’s been busting his ass in the sun all morning. 

You go and get the necessities first, so, catnip. Checking the prices for which was the cheapest so you could buy the most for the poor little kitties. Settling for the store's brand you buy two big bags. Laundry soap was next, but you got caught up talking to some random guy who had brought his cat in. 

-

You get to the laundry aisle, rolling your basket, you see a familiar figure standing holding two different types of dryer sheets. You peep the shoulder brace on, “What’re you doing on this side of town?” You joke rolling your cart closer to him, he snaps his head quickly then laughs and meets you halfway. “I live around here.” he informs, “Me too,” you say enthusiastically, which makes you clear your throat. 

“I see you're in your civilian clothes,” you note his gym wear, “I just came from the gym," he nods, “You got cats?” he asks. “Uh no. These are for the strays.” you pat the large bags, he nods again. “You look like you were having some trouble,” you nod to the dryer sheets. 

He holds both boxes up, frowning at each label, “My favorites got discontinued.” He says. “Poor you.” you chuckle, “I know.” He sighs. 

“Those ones are the ones I use.” You point to the green box with flowers. “Ah, I used to use those ones.” he says as place the two boxes back into their spots, picking up the other box. 

“Guess I'll go back to what I know.” he shrugs, and you shake your head at him, “You’re an odd man.” he only shrugs at your words. “So, are you getting groceries?” he asks, “Uh I have a couple things I need to get but I also need an outfit.” 

“An outfit?” He raises a brow. “I have dinner.” you say grabbing a bottle of detergent, looking for the softener. “Johnny finally grew some balls, I see?”  he snickers. “It’s just dinner.” you shrug, “Can you grab that?” he looks at you and points to his shoulder, “sorry.” you blurt, reaching for the big bottle. “He’s gonna propose.” He laughs. “He’s not.” you say organizing your cart so the new edition can fit. You start walking out to the laundry aisle, heading towards the outdoor section. “What are you getting now?” Simon asks, walking at your side. “You’re a part of my errands now?”

“Guess so. Can I put this in here?” he asked, holding his box of dryer sheets over the cart. You nod and he drops it in, not caring where it lands. “I need some soil.” you say aloud reminding yourself. You both get to the soil section looking over the types and picking up two new planting pots. 

“So you and Johnny huh?” he says snapping you out of your soil reading session. “Me and Johnny huh?” you say in return. “You guys, you know?” he winks and you roll your eyes, “No,I don’t” you snort. “You’re stingy.” He jokes, “I’m private.” you point at him. “You're a pointer, that's what you are.” he points back at you, causing you to laugh at his actions. 

“We’re just getting dinner, nothing more, nothing less.” you shrug, Simon narrows his eyes at you, “ Yeah, yeah.” he sighs. “I’m serious.” you giggle. “I am too, just don’t invite him in.” He smirks. “Gross, Simon.” you groan and he cackles at your distorted face.  

“Well I better get going” he pats your shoulder, The warmth of his hand making you feel feral enough to eat him whole. You frown, “Thought you were gonna be a part of my errands?” He smiles lightly, “Some other time” He says, “Wouldn't want your boyfriend to get mad at you.” he jokes one more time. “Oh god!” You exasperate. He laughs, “I’ll see you monday.” he winks, he grabs his box of laundry sheets, and pats your shoulder again and walks back inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

You wanted to watch him walk back to the door. A part of you wished it was Simon who’d text you. You felt guilty for it. You felt even guiltier for fondling your bits at the thought of him. You grab a bag of soil and throw it in the cart lazily, pushing it through the automatic doors.

-

Your back in the car waiting for your phone to connect to the bluetooth. Staring ahead. “Don’t invite him inside.” You’d invite Simon in if he’d let you. “Don’t be gross.” you say as you look in the rear view mirror. You needed to get something, “Kind of fancy” Johnny’s words, not yours. So you go to the mall, it's a 30 minute drive and luckily you have so much time to spare. The reservation is set at 8 and it’s barely 2. 

When you finally get there, you hit up the usual stores. Go to sephora, buy a couple things and finally get a cute dress. You stop at the candied apple shop and buy yourself one. Sitting at the food court alone, you watch couples eat chinese food, or buy drinks from the boba tea shops. 

‘The mall would be a cute date’ you think to yourself. You’d never been to a fancy restaurant on a first date. You weren’t into fancy cuisine and you don’t really understand the culinary arts. But if foods are good, foods are good. That’s all that really matters to you.  

Johnny’s a fun guy, right? Maybe you’ll have fun tonight, maybe a little more of his personality will show. You get up from your seat and throw the rest of your apple away. 

- 

On your way home, you started to stress a little bit, were you really doing this? You tried your best to brush off the feeling of dread. But it was still there, and so were those feelings of Simon. 

When you get home you fill the two bowls of cat food, putting one bowl in your small front porch and the balcony in the back. The regular black and white cat already perched on the back balcony’s railing, “Hi there, baby.” you say softly reaching to pet the top of its head softly, “am I having a day?” you chuckle scratching behind its ear. The cat jumps and heads for the bowl, taking a couple of bites and then runs off to go back to god knows where. 

You go back inside, switch some plants into the new pots and then decide to get ready. You jump in the shower, do your hair and makeup, waiting a bit to get dressed. You open up a small bottle of Rose that had been chilling in your fridge for a couple of days. Sitting on the couch in just your robe, you feel bored and you want to bother simon. Ask him what he was up to, what else did he get up too. You wanted to tell him all the things about today, what you saw at the mall, what you brought home, what you were wearing. 

You stare at your reflection on the tv. All prettied up. You sat until you had an hour to wait for Johnny, putting your dress on, body butters and creams so your skin would be smooth, glittery and glowy. You put your jewelry on, making sure to stack your rings, and fix your anklet and toe rings. 15 minutes until Johnny comes and you're barely putting your perfume on, taking pictures of yourself and choosing which one to put on your instagram story. A bunch of mirror selfies, and pictures of your face makeup to see if it matches, you get a text message that he’s down the street, You rush running around the house barefoot searching for the new shoes you found at the thrift, Prada kitten stilettos. You grab your purse, ID and pepper spray just in case. 

“I’m here!” The text reads. You spray yourself on more time with perfume, and rush out the door, you can see Johnny's headlights from your front door. You lock your door and do a speed walk to his car, you open the passenger door and get in. “Hi.” you smile, “Hey!” he says, looking at you “You smell good.” he adds. “Thank you, I bought the perfume today.” You answer. 

“You look handsome.” You compliment and he smiles lightly, “You look good.” He keeps his eyes on the road and your eye almost twitches. Everything was just, good? “So did you find this restaurant yourself?” you ask hoping for more conversation, and trying to be better than good. 

“Through a friend.” you nod. “Through a friend,” you repeat, “What’s the menu like?” you question. “Just a mix of things.” he shrugs. You hum and stare out the window. This night has to be over quickly. “Can I put some music on?” you ask, “Uh sure.” he points to the aux cord in between the seat and middle console. You grab it and plug it in, hitting shuffle, letting it play whatever. 

The car ride to the restaurant was more awkward than any encounter you’ve had with an old man hitting on you, And that’s very awkward. 

-

“I’ve never been to a restaurant like this.” you say looking around, “Really?” He says, looking at the menu. “It’s pretty in here.” you look at all the other couples around talking, laughing, drinking wine. “Should we get some wine?” you perk up. “Sure.” he shrugs. 

You both order a glass and you almost down yours. “So, johnny?” you chuckle at yourself. “So.” he says. “What have you been up to?” you ask. “Nothing really. Work is all.” he chuckles. 

Johnny’s so handsome but, poor guy. “That’s it?” you say in disbelief, “Oh kay. So what's your favorite color?” You take a sip from your drink. “Blue.” another sip. 

“Do you have siblings?”  “Just a brother and two sisters.” Another sip. 

And that’s how it went all night, trying to pull information out of him. For twenty minutes until you both ordered. “Why’d you leave early on friday?” He asks, mouth full of food. “I had a really bad headache.” you answer, trying to hide your grimace. “Oh.” he takes another bite and then sips from his glass. “Did you miss me too much?” you try to tease. “Uh no?” your smile drops, “I was joking.” you say, and then clear the discomfort in your throat.

-

 “Well I am just stuffed.” you say, with one of your sides still on your plate. You pick up your third glass of red wine, and down it. Johnny’s eyes on you. “You a big fan of wine?” 

“I’m a big fan of anything that makes me have a good time.” you smile sarcastically. 

-

Johnny pays and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Feeling slightly buzzed, you check your own location, you are on the other side of town. So 45 more minutes of awkward conversation and just weird subliminals. You look at yourself in the mirror. You look good, you smell good. 

Everything's good. The food was good. The wine was good, that song choice was good, everything was good, not great, not pretty, not beautiful, not even cool, just good. 

You sigh and open your messaging app, and your thumb hovers over Simon's contact. You stare at it for a long time, maybe you could call him up, and complain, he’d listen. Johnny doesn’t, everythings good to him. He sure does pay attention to the cute little server in her cute little hostess outfit. You noticed. You didn’t say anything, just sat there and ate the splatter of whatever vegetable that was decoration on your plate. 

You’d felt like this before. When you were young and the boys overlooked you for your friends, they were prettier. You understood the boys, your friends were and still are pretty and have beautiful personalities. Your eyes started to water, you grabbed some tissue and cleaned your eyes. A knock on the door interrupts your little moment. You opened it and there Johnny stood, “you okay?” he asks brows furrowed, “Yeah” you nod. 

-

You get back in the car and sit with your body turned to the window. “Food was good.” He says breaking the silence. “Mhm.” you hum. “You got a buzz?” he chuckles, “No, I'm great.” you say quietly. Looking at the lights on the street. You can see a gas station coming up and an Idea pops up in your head. “Actually, can you stop at the gas station?” He looks at you confused but switches lanes to turn in anyway, “Is there a reason?” He questions you. “I’m gonna get another ride, I have something else after this.” 

“I can drop you off-” you cut him off quickly, “No need!” 

He pulls into the gas station and you get out, waving at him, you walk to the entry. A lady with bright blue eyeshadow works the front counter, “Nice shoes.” you look down, “Thank you” you smile.  You open your contacts and click on Simons, not thinking at all. 

“Hello?” his deep voice picks up. “Hey.” you say softly, “Were you sleeping?” 

“I was laying down.” he says, not confirming or denying. “I’ll call some other time-”  he stops you with a hush, “What’s wrong?” you suck in a breath and that makes him sigh. “What happened?” he asks, concerned. 

“I’m at a gas station.” 

taglist: @darkravenqueen98 @shunoodles @lovely-giggles @imjustmes @definitelynotaclown @oreo-cream @whos-fran @ilovehyperfixating @w00lgathering @idkbbyx3

[roosterforme]

No Nut November I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good.

Warnings: Humor, adult banter, smut, ridiculousness

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend and Payback x hookup

Check my masterlist for more!

When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good. As they finished a group run and headed into the gym for some weight training, one such conversation began to take form. 

"Halloween was fun last night," Phoenix said with a yawn. "The Hard Deck was wild though."

"Yeah," Fanboy agreed, shaking his head as he got a bench press set up. "Crazy! But November is a way more chill month."

Hangman snickered. "Chill? You think No Nut November is chill?" 

Coyote shook his head as he did some squats. "It's the roughest month of the year!"

A bubble of laughter escaped Bob. "What's No Nut November? Like no peanuts?

"More like no penis," drawled Hangman. "Or vagina," he added when he saw the look Phoenix was giving him. "It's a competition. You try to stay ejaculation free for the entire month. Who's game?"

"Count me out," Rooster promptly said. "My girlfriend will absolutely not go for this." 

"Come on, Rooster," Payback said. "You don't even have to tell her you're participating."

Rooster stared at him in confusion. "I think she might notice something's up if I go from being balls deep inside her at least once a day to giving her nothing!"

"There are workarounds, Rooster. Don't you ever use your mouth for anything other than whining?" Phoenix asked, earning laughs from the others. 

"Hmmm," Rooster rolled his eyes at her and contemplated how he could get away with participating. 

"Well, if it's a competition, what does the winner get?" Bob asked.

"The satisfaction of knowing they aren't weak minded," Hangman informed him. "And I'll hang up a gold star outside the locker rooms that says 'Ejaculation Champ' with their name on it. Now, who's in?"

"Yeah," Payback said with a nod as he picked up a barbell. 

"I'll do it," Fanboy added. 

"Me too," agreed Coyote.

"Sure, sounds intriguing," Bob said with a nod. 

"I...will hesitantly say yes. I will probably regret this," Rooster said with a sigh. 

The guys all turned and looked at Phoenix who was stretching before she started weight training. "Oh, I'm already out. I lost."

Rooster's brow scrunched up. "What do you mean you're already out? It's November 1st at 9:30 in the morning."

Phoenix just smirked at the boys. "I had a guest over last night," she said coyly.

"Legendary," Fanboy muttered. "You've got more game than all of the rest of us combined." 

"Are you kidding me?" asked Hangman. "Less than ten hours into the month and you're already out? I'm actually kind of impressed."

Phoenix just shrugged. "The gold star would have been nice, but it was worth it."

Hangman sighed and turned back to the guys. "We've all got to be one hundred percent truthful. If you nut, you're out. And you need to admit to it." 

The guys all agreed. And thus the month of November became a thing of legend.

-----------------------------------------

On November 6th, Coyote woke up with morning wood. He got all comfy in bed and took care of himself. "No better way to start your day," he muttered as he cleaned himself up. "Oh, shit!" 

He had fucking forgotten about the bet! 

When he got to base and saw the guys, he just shook his head. 

"You nutted!" accused Fanboy immediately.

"Yeah," Coyote admitted. "I just completely forgot about the bet, and I....jerked off this morning." He winced, and the guys looked at him with disdain. 

"Well you can kiss that gold star goodbye," Hangman told him. "Everyone else hanging in there?"

"Yeah," they all said in unison. 

-----------------------------------------------

On November 10th, Fanboy hit up his favorite movie theater for throwback night. They were showing Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, one of his all-time favorites.

He settled in with his bucket of popcorn, ready to enjoy the film. But then disaster struck. Maybe it was because he'd already gone too long without masturbating, or maybe it was because she was just so hot, but as soon as he saw Princess Leia in her golden, slave bikini, he was rock hard. 

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, still hard by the time the movie ended. He had to hold the popcorn bucket in front of his shorts on the way to his car. "Okay, pull it together, man." But by the time he got back to his apartment, he was panting and in pain. 

"I can't make it!" he said, carefully taking his shorts off and touching himself. The relief was immediate, but the disappointment he felt would surely linger. 

The next day on the tarmac, he told the others, "It was the damn bikini! It had me in its sights, and I didn't stand a chance! I could have made it through The Empire Strikes Back, no problem! I should have known better!"

Hangman, Rooster, Bob and Payback all sized each other up. Shit was getting real.

-------------------------------------------

By November 15th, Rooster estimated he'd gone down on his girlfriend about a hundred times so far this month. This wouldn't have been a problem for him at all, except now his jaw was starting to ache, and she was desperately trying to reciprocate. 

"You're so good, baby," she moaned as she came on his face. 

Rooster gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms. "Anything for you, honey," he grunted. God, he was painfully hard, and now she was crawling across the bed toward him. 

"You want me to go down on you now?" she asked, reaching for his shorts. 

"No! Tonight is all about you!" he practically yelled at her. 

She pouted a bit. "You've been saying that for weeks, Rooster. And now you're acting really weird. I want to make you feel good too."

"No! Ummm, let me finger you instead!" he shouted. "Lay down, honey. I got you."

But two nights later, he was outmaneuvered by her. As soon as she came from the pleasure his fingers and mouth provided, Rooster was rubbing his throbbing jaw and trying to think about something un-sexy. But she lunged for his boxers, pulled them down and ran her tongue along his dick. 

"Honey, no!" he groaned, but it felt too good. Two more strokes of her tongue, and Rooster was panting and spurting his cum all over her face. 

She looked up at him in shock. "That was fast." 

Rooster paced around the gym on base the next day. "I'm out, okay? I'm out." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "I swear I tried my best! Plus I think I have permanent damage to my jaw! It's aching from how many times I went down on her!"

Payback cocked his head. "But if you were avoiding intercourse, how are you out?"

Rooster looked slightly crazed now. "She licked me! She licked me three times and I came all over the fucking place! And now she's concerned that I should talk to my doctor about premature ejaculation! I was out there in the trenches, fighting for my life, and now she thinks I have a disorder!"

The guys all nodded in solemn understanding. 

Phoenix cracked up. "You're all idiots, I swear."

-----------------------------------------

Payback had been so careful. He really wanted that gold star. It was November 28th, and he was feeling optimistic about his chances of winning. 

"I've got this," he announced, bragging while playing pool at the Hard Deck. "The gold star is mine, dickheads." 

Bob and Hangman would cave. He just knew it. 

Then the cutest girl he'd ever seen started hitting on him. "Can I buy you a drink?" she asked shyly, and he was putty in her hands. 

An hour later they were kissing next to the jukebox. An hour after that, she was touching him under his shirt. 

"Okay, I'm out guys! I had a good run! See you tomorrow!" he announced merrily as he left the bar with her.

"Saw that coming from a mile away," Hangman drawled, sinking the eight ball. He knew he would make it to December 1st, because he knew he was mentally stronger than the rest of them. He prided himself on it. 

So Hangman went to bed that night with a satisfied smile on his face. He woke up the next morning with a mess in his sheets. 

He didn't even want to show his face at work, and he considered calling out sick. He managed to make it almost all the way out onto the tarmac by his F/A-18 when Payback and the others cornered him.

"You're looking really suspicious, man," Payback accused. "You're out, aren't you?"

Hangman nodded hoping to quickly steer the topic elsewhere. "Yes, I'm out. Congratulations, Bob. You win the gold star, man."

Bob pumped his fist in the air, and the rest congratulated him on his nutless month. 

But it was with untrusting eyes that Rooster turned back toward Hangman, who was trying to sneak up the ladder into his aircraft. "Hey, Hangman! How did you get eliminated?"

"It's not important," he mumbled in response. 

"Come on, everyone else admitted to how they got out," Rooster replied. "Couldn't be worse than ejaculating after a tongue touched you for approximately two seconds."

"Couldn't be worse than getting hard to Star Wars," Fanboy chimed in with a self-deprecating smile. 

Hangman cradled his head in his hand. "Ihadawetdream."

Phoenix howled and bent in half laughing, but the guys all stepped a little closer to hear him better. "Sorry, you what?" asked Coyote. 

"I had a wet dream!" Hangman shouted. "Okay? Happy now?" 

And now the guys were howling along with Phoenix. 

"Yes, hilarious," Hangman drawled. "How did you manage to win, Bob?"

Bob smiled serenely at everyone. "Oh, I practice mindful meditation for stress relief. Plus, my wife has been in Europe for work all month, so it was quite easy."

Bob jumped back as the guys all shouted at him in bewilderment. "You're married?!" 

---------------------------------------

This fic is ridiculous! 

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[oceanlix]

Day 6: Younghoon

Pairing: Younghoon x female reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 985

Warnings: Teasing, dirty talk, slight spanking, dry humping, edging, fingering, begging, thigh fucking, creampie, unprotected sex

Smutmas 2023 Masterlist

You should be paying attention to the movie, but it’s kind of hard to do with your boyfriend’s cock pressing against your ass. You squirm a little, trying to get away, but Younghoon’s hand grabs your hip easily, preventing you from moving.

“Shh,” he coos, cupping your pussy over your underwear. You knew you should’ve worn some shorts with the hoodie you’d thrown on, but it was a lot warmer earlier and you didn’t feel like wearing more layers than necessary. Now, as he presses his fingers against your folds and your pussy starts to get wet, you’re regretful. “Seems like you need me, baby.”

You don’t argue, your breathing shaky as he continues to play with you absentmindedly. You know he’s not going to let you cum for a while, even with his cock pressing against you firmly. Younghoon loves to see how far he can take you, there’s a thrill in it for him.

“Come on,” you beg, grabbing his wrist and trying to at least get him to put a couple of his fingers in you. The gentle friction isn’t enough for you right now. But Younghoon pulls his hand away entirely, clicking his tongue.

“You know better,” he says, smacking your ass in warning. You hiss at the burn, scooting away from him as much as you can. “Take what I give you, or you don’t cum at all.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, but nod in agreement. He chuckles, pulling you back flush against his hard cock. Younghoon ruts against you for a few moments, groaning in your ear and driving you crazy. Just when you think he might cave and fuck you properly, he pulls away, placing a hand over your soaked underwear once more.

“If you can cum before the halfway point of the movie, I’ll fuck you for real,” he rasps into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You look at the timer on the DVD player, seeing you’re already 30 minutes into the 90 minute movie. That means you have about 15 minutes to get yourself off? You think you can do it, especially with the way you already feel yourself leaking all over the place. You turn your head and nod, accepting his challenge.

“You can only rub against my fingers,” he warns, pressing them against your folds and making you moan. “Don’t grind back against my cock or you’ll automatically lose.”

You want to complain, but you know that’s just a waste of your remaining time. Instead, you focus on the feeling of his fingertips against your pussy and get to work, rocking your hips rhythmically. “Fuck,” you curse, the wet spot on your panties getting bigger and bigger.

It’s always hot when Younghoon plays these games with you, as frustrating as it is. You love feeling so naughty, only getting off from his fingers and nothing else. It’s a little more fun to play in public and run the risk of getting caught, but here in the comfort of your own home is good too. He knows how to talk you right to an orgasm, that voice of his sending you over the edge so easily.

“Come on, you can do better than that,” he teases, pushing his fingers a little deeper. Your panties stick to you a bit when he lets go, turning you on even more. You fight the urge to rub your ass back against his cock, not wanting to lose the game so quickly. “Get my fingers nice and soaked, baby.”

You cover your face with your sleeves and whine, loving the way his words make you feel. Younghoon pulls your panties to the side and puts his fingers directly on your folds, your breath hitching as you take in the new feeling. It’s going to be even harder now to follow the rules of the bet, but you suppose that’s half the fun in this.

“Need you so bad,” you moan, swirling your hips. Your thighs are getting soaked with your juices, even dripping down onto the couch. You’ll have to clean that up later, but right now, you’re totally lost in pleasure.

You’re a little surprised when Younghoon breaks first, grunting and rolling down your panties to your knees. He slides his cock between your thighs, gripping your hips so your legs stay pressed together tightly. “Don’t move,” he tells you, and then he’s fucking between your wet thighs at a rapid pace, chasing his release.

It’s so hot how he loses total control of himself. You can’t help but reach down and touch your clit, watching his cockhead appear and disappear between your thighs. You wish it was inside you, throbbing steadily, but this is almost as good, especially when you feel precum squirt onto your thighs and mix with your own fluids.

“Gonna fuck you so good after this, baby,” he promises, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “I’ll paint your walls white and you’re gonna keep it all inside for me, yeah?”

You scream when he shifts slightly and his cockhead bumps up against your clit, cumming hard around him. It catches you both off guard, Younghoon’s hips stuttering as he squeezes your hips tightly. A couple more shallow thrusts before he’s following you, shooting his load between your thighs and onto the couch. You’re exhausted and messy when it’s all over, the hoodie bunched up under your breasts as you try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, glancing down at the huge stain on the couch. Yep, definitely gonna have to clean later. You forget all about it when Younghoon turns your face towards him, kissing you as he strokes your cum soaked thighs.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he praises, patting your pussy gently. You whimper into his mouth, pressing back against his cock subconsciously. “Now let me keep my promise from earlier.”

[livvyisb0red]

“Let me cheer you up ;)”

Wealthy!Best Friend!Hawks x Stressed!Reader

Summary: Keigo’s beloved best friend has been overly stressed with work at their agency; his only way he thought to calm them down is to have a night-in at his penthouse with some drinks and music.

- Best Friends to Lovers (?) -

**CW: overworked, kissing, alcohol, cuddling

*Reader is a prohero with their own agency

NOT PROOFREAD

Another sigh fell from his mouth as Keigo set his phone on the small table in front of him, careful not to knock over his glass of water.

“My one weekend off and everyone is busy!” He grumbled before falling back onto his sofa, the multicolored screen catching his attention as he sits upright, allowing him to fixate on the sitcom that illuminates from the screen.

A few episodes pass before his phone buzzes on the table.

*1 message from: Loser ^///^*

- dude i’ve had so much to do at my agency since my assistant got a new job - 9:30 pm

~ I bet :( Do you want me to send my assistant over to your agency? - 9:30 pm

- omg please i’d literally cry. - 9:31 pm

~ Of course! What all would he be doing? - 9:31 pm

He leaned forward to get a sip of his water before checking his phone again.

- honestly he could probably come in tomorrow. if there’s two of us looking through these reports we can get it done in about two hours. I’ll be paying him a little extra too since he isn’t part of my agency. - 9:32 pm

~ Alright! I wish you luck. You leaving now then? - 9:32 pm

- yeah probably. why? - 9:32 pm

~ I’m booooooooorrrreeeedd - 9:33 pm

Keigo had sent the message with hopes that his best friend would want to come over. He knew they’d want to!

- kei I’m so stressed idk. i just wanna chill tonight - 9:34 pm

Well this didn’t go as planned. He had another trick up his sleeve. Hoping it would work, he took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the screen of his phone.

~ Let me cheer you up ;) - 9:35 pm

“Fuck why did I do that?!” Keigo immediately got anxious after sending that. What if they get mad? Will they hate him? Oh god. Intrusive thoughts starting swirling through his head, playing out the worst possible out come over and over again until…

- yeahh it’s friday why not lmao - 9:36 pm

Jumping off the couch, he cheered loudly before rushing back to his phone.

~ Dress up for me, and bring a bathing suit ;) - 9:36 pm

- okay feathers lol - 9:36 pm

Keigo rushed around his house speed cleaning everything to make sure it was nice for when (y/n) came over. He took the cover off of his hot tub, making sure it was the perfect temperature for the two of them. Throwing some snacks together on a plate for them, he thought it would be nice to pour some Rosé for them. Rushing to his room, he looks for something to where quickly finding some nice dress pants and a white button up for him to wear.

Taking off his t-shirt, he looks at himself in the mirror before taking a deep breath and throwing his dress shirt on, barely buttoning it up since they would be getting in the hot tub.

The knock on the door pulled him out of his trance, and brought him into a new one. He practically appeared at the door, opening it for his dazzling bestie.

“Hey feathers.”

Oh boy. They did NOT have to get that pretty for HIM. If it weren’t for his ego, Keigo would be on his knees IMMEDIATELY for them.

“Hi chickie” Keigo choked out with a wink. He took their hand leading them into his penthouse, while grabbing the glass of rosé to hand to (y/n).

“Oh my god, you didn’t have to do all this for me Kei! I’m serious!”

“Why wouldn’t I? After a stressful day I would wanna be pampered too.”

Walking over to his coffee table, he grabbed the remote putting on music that just begged to be danced to. Keigo strutted back to (y/n), hand out, inviting them to dance with him.

“Really, Kei?” (Y/n) shook their head, giggling before taking his hand and accepting the invitation.

The lights in the room changed to a hot pink before Keigo put his phone back on the table, looking back at his best friend, admiring their eyes. They danced for what felt like hours, the upbeat, glittery music mixed with the pink lights and alcohol had them ignoring anything that happened around them. Keigo grabbed (y/n)’s face, looking deeply into their eyes before asking a question which would change the night for the better.

“Wanna take a shot or two?”

Laughter erupted between the two of them before they made their way to his liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Ciroc and two shot glasses. They each took a shot before chasing it down with more rosé. Slowly but surely they made their way back into the living room before Keigo looked at (y/n), gesturing to his balcony.

“Let’s take this outside, babe.” Keigo practically drooled from his mouth.

They both got changed in his room before making their way to his balcony, with Keigo leading the way and opening the sliding door. He climbed over the side before grabbing (y/n)’s hand, guiding them into the hot tub with him. Thoughts started swirling through Keigo’s mind. He wanted to put his arm over (y/n) more than anything, but the fear of ruining the relationship they had took over. So he just leaned back and looked over to the city around them. They both let out a sigh, soaking in the relaxing feeling of the warm water washing around them. Keigo jumped at the feeling of someone’s head on his shoulder, looking down at (y/n), who was looking back at him before shooting a wink. They both laughed, realizing the others feelings.

“You cool with this?” (Y/n) asked in an almost whisper-like tone.

“Uh YEAH!” He cheered, causing them both to burst into laughter for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

They cuddled up to each other in the hot tub, his arm over their shoulder, their leg over top of his. Keigo looked at (y/n) with longing eyes before pulling them onto his lap. He looked up at them, running his hand up their body before resting it on the back of their head and pulling them into a kiss.

The kiss lasted hours in their head, when in reality it was only a few seconds. They looked at each other before Keigo let out a drunken giggle and kissing (y/n) once more, this one with more passion than the last. Alcohol running through their mouths, causing kiss to be sickeningly sweet to both of them. Keigo pulled away, leaving his hand on their waist.

“I think we are both too drunk for this, but just know that I’ve liked you for a long time. I don’t want anything happening between us while we’re drunk. I’d rather not have any regrets in the morning.”

(y/n) looked at him with the most mesmerizing smile Keigo had ever seen before kissing him once more and nodding in agreement.

“I was thinking the same thing, Kei”

They both got out of the hot tub, drying off before heading back inside.

“Do you want a sweatshirt and sweats to change into?” Keigo asked from his bedroom.

“Yes please! Thanks!”

Keigo came down the stairs with the promised clothes in his hands.

“You can get changed in my bathroom over there, you know where it is.”

Watching as his friend left the room before checking the time on his phone, 1:37 am.

“Wow” he laughed to himself before looking back up and seeing (y/n) in his hoodie and pants which were way too big for them, but he loved it.

He put his arm up, inviting them over to the couch with him so he could put his arm over them.

“You know it’s almost 2:00, right?”

“No?! That much time passed?”

“Yeah, we should get to bed, I got a TV in my room so we’ll have something to watch while we fall asleep.”

“But I just sat down!”

Keigo giggled before picking them up and carrying them up the stairs into his room and laying them on his bed. They both got under the covers before tangling themselves together. He didn’t even get to turn on the tv before they fell asleep together with a new future ahead of them.

[bcacstuff]

Looks like Sam didn’t race today. His results should have been posted in real time, and it was empty, and still is a couple of hours later.

There are indeed no results shown and normally they are displayed in real time. Other contenders' results are all shown. So I think we can safely assume he didn't participate. So you can all stop sending me messages about that, I already know and saw it myself.

To the wishful thinkers sending me messages about he's there and whatever else you're speculating [some very sick things by the keyboard warriors putting that in someone's inbox without the courage to sign it with your name and hiding behind the Anon! Be ashamed of yourself, wash your mouth with soap, clean your keyboard or phone or tablet whatever you use with bleach and go for a long walk preferably somewhere fresh and windy to clean all these cobwebs from your brain]. e.g. Stop sending me anything if you have nothing else to do but speculate. You know the drill, pic or no cigar. No pic; your message will end up in trash and your wasting your (and my) time.

To all the but but but.... he could be there.... Well, it's quite an interesting venue as it is combined with the FIBO event as well. A huge expo, if you're interested in fitness, workouts and all things related, it sure is an event you might want to visit. I saw some awesome footage exploring it. The entrance passes for the Hyrox race (as well as spectators) allows you entrance to the expo as well.

But... (my but this time) lets get real: He has worked for 3 weeks filming on location. AN is in Edinburgh, preps for the gala and other business which Sam would want to be involved in as much as he can and they are working on. And tomorrow a new week of filming starts. Busy busy day yesterday in Paris. From what I've heard and saw some tweets as well, they overbooked Sam

They were running late on schedules and rushed things, Sam has been busy from 8 in the morning till at least 8 in the evening with just a 30 min. lunch in between.

There are no direct flights from Paris to Cologne. So it would be quite challenging to get there on time (I repeat no direct flights, he'd have to fly on Düsseldorf or Frankfurt and then still have travel by taxi or train to Cologne. And not a lot of options for flights even then).

And perhaps he might just love to enjoy a relaxing day in Paris, nice weather and have his pic taken by a fan who was lucky enough to not pay a lot of money and wait in long queues to get a rushed selfie or pic! ^^

Anyway all in all, more reason to believe he wouldn't be there or go there. Even though he wasn't at the evening event last night, I can not tell you why, but I'm told it is not really surprising. It doesn't mean anything necessarily.

So that's my heads up on this topic and probably the last you'll hear about it. Unless there are other developments. But my bet there wont be!

🎥 studiolesessentielles IGS

[welldonebeca]

The Triplets (7)

WC: 2.1k words Warnings: Seduction. Dirty talking. Praising kink. Tension. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Semi-public sex.. kinda. A/N: "please, don't follow this character's advice. plan-b is an extremely faulty method and it only works on people under 165lbs (195 in some brands) and right after sex. it pretty much is taking 30 days of the contraceptive pill. Don't come to fanfic for sex advice. You can access Planned Parenthood for a more detailed explanation, they explain a lot about contraception and sexual health in general. 

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Dinner proceeded with Ben telling her lots of stories, and a few of them... well, they sounded a little fictional.

A little too cool to be true.

When dinner was done, Lizzie was quick to get the dishes - against Beau's protests - fuelled by both her possible new job, and wanting to be helpful.

The boys had all been doing so much for her, and what was she doing except fuck two of them behind the other's back?

"Dean," she called, taking the plates. "Little help?"

He shot to his feet quickly.

"Of course-"

Before he could even pick up a plate, though, his phone rang and Dean picked him up, and grimaced a little.

"Hm... I gotta take this," he sighed. "It'll be a minute and-"

"I'll do it," Ben offered quickly.

Lizzie's eyes widened, but she shut herself up.

Ben helping?

Oh.

The last time they'd been alone together she'd practically rubbed herself all over him like a stupid whore.

She wanted to say no, but didn’t want to seem suspicious.

So, Lizzie grabbed all of the plates and hurried to the kitchen.

She was scrapping the food off the plates when his brothers left and Ben stepped to her.

Lizzie could cut the air with a knife, with how tense it felt between them but just tried to pretend nothing was wrong.

She was on her tip toes, putting the clean plates away, when she heard a little whistle from behind her, and turned around with wide eyes to find Ben watching her from the archway.

"That's a sweet piece of ass."

Her eyes widened and she stiffened up, starign at him.

"Hm... Ben..." she tried to hide from his eyes, but they followed her.

"It's just a compliment, sweetheart," he pointed out. "Can't I say you're pretty?"

"You didn't say that," she snapped, glaring at him. "Do you think women enjoy comments about their asses?"

Ben rolled his eyes, striding to her.

"You kids these days are so fucking sensitive," he looked annoyed. "I can't compliment anyone anymore, and you come with this PC shit."

Lizzie glared at him more.

"There's a difference between complimenting someone and being fucking disrespectful."

What was so hard about understanding that?

He smirked.

"I didn't know this little pussy had claws," he teased her.

He walked even closer to her, nearly trapping her in her spot.

"A pretty girl like you should enjoy compliments," he clicked his tongue. "Bet you got a lot of them in college."

Her cheeks burned, but Lizzie refused to back down.

"Again, those were not compliments," she corrected him. "Compliments are nice. Sexual comments-"

Ben put a single finger under her chin, and she shivered, stuttering, speechless at last.

"Sexual comments what, pretty girl?" he purred.

Lizzie opened and closed her lips.

"They... they..." she looked for her words. "They have a time and place, and you're not supposed to say them to someone unprompted."

Ben looked at her, very amused, nearly pressing himself to her by then.

"Unprompted?" he teased. "You learned that in your gender study class?"

She blinked, confused.

"What-"

But he stopped her, pressing his thumb to her lips, caressing it and pushing it in.

"You got such a pretty mouth," he hummed, teasing her. "Pretty lips..."

She shuddered, and let him push his thumb into her lips.

"Perfect for sucking cock," he hummed. "But I don't think you have, right, sweetheart? Such an innocent little thing, just a little virgin."

"Ben," she tried to speak.

He shushed her.

"You still own me from your little accident a few days ago, little thing," he reminded her.

Lizzie held back a whimper.

This should be turning her on, God.

"You looked so pretty," he continued. "All horny, rubbing yourself on me, so needy..."

She whined, and he tilted her chin up.

"What do you say, pretty girl?" he pressed his body to her, and his cock was hard and stiff against her belly. "It's been a while since I fucked little virgins, and I don't mind having a one time thing."

He pulled his thumb out.

"Just don't get clingy."

Ben leaned closer to her, nose moving over hers.

"What do you say, baby?" he hummed.

She whimpered.

Lizzie shouldn't be doing this. She hadn't even talked to Dean yet. Or figured out what was going on between her and Beau.

And yet, she moved up and kissed him.

She reached her hand for his hood just as his hands moved to her hips, and gasped when Ben lifted her up and turned her around, sitting her on the kitchen island.

"Ben," she pulled back, looking at his face. "Maybe we should-"

But he shut her up with a kiss, moving his hand to her tank top and pulling on side down.

"We'll be quick," he promised, lips running to her jaw and neck.

That wasn't a good idea. They were in the kitchen, anyone could come and-

Ben wrapped his lips around her nipple, interrupting her thoughts, and Lizzie gasped.

"Pretty little tits," he grunted. "Wanna paint them with my cum."

She was stunned, feeling him tugging on the other side, and gasped when Ben took both his hands and ripped her tank off.

"Yes," he pushed it off of her. "There it is."

His hand moved to her opposite breasts, pinching and twisting, pulling like the big meany he was.

"Such a pretty slut. Can't wait to see if these tits will bounce."

Lizzie whimpered, arching her back, sensitive as he fucking tormented her tits, sucking and pinching, massaging...

When he pulled away, giving her a break, it was just to take off his hoodie, revealing his smooth chest to her eyes.

"Look at that," he clicked his tongue.

She didn't have time to, as he was moving to her tits again, merciless.

Minne had thought that, considering his messy beard, he would’ve been hairy like beau, but he was smooth like the model he acted like he wasn’t.

She squirmed under him, holding back her sounds.

Ben reached down, pulling off her shorts, too impatient as he tugged on it to throw it away.

"Are you on birth control, little thing?" he squeezed her thigh.

She nodded.

"Yeah."

Plan-B was still running her body, right? She just took it in the morning!

"Good," he picked her up, turning her around. "Gonna paint your insides."

She gasped when her belly met the cool stone, and almost yelped when Ben moved down and licked her cunt from her clit to her entrance.

"Fucking drenched," he growled. "Did you cum while I was sucking your tits, baby? Is that why you are so wet?"

Well, Beau had only just fucked her, hadn't he?

She was still sensitive and dripping with what as left from whatever they had done before, she could feel the last bits of wetness when she was seated at the table.

"Ben," she looked back at him.

But he pushed her head down onto the counter, and Lizzie had to cover her mouth to muffle a cry when he pushed his cock right inside her.

"So fucking tight," he growled into her ear, barely giving her much time to adjust, seeking his own pleasure.

She moaned with the movement inside her, though it wasn't nearly enough.

Was this it?

Wasn't he going to play with her clit or tease her or...

Well... anything?

Ben kissed her back, fucking her as she just stayed in her place, getting off.

Well, so that was what fleshlights felt like.

Good thing she didn't lose her virginity to him, it would have been a huge disappointment.

She reached between her legs with a bit of a struggle, and tried to touch herself like Dean and Beau showed her, the little spots and sweet places.

Lizzie touched her own clit, closing her eyes and trying to get herself to cum, and couldn't help moaning when Ben moved her legs, lifting one up on the counter to fuck her deeper, his balls hitting her fingers as she rubbed herself.

"Feel good, baby?" he grunted, as if he was doing anything.

But his dick feel big, stretching her and rubbing against the parts she only recently realised she loved.

"Ben," she moaned, anyway.

He squeezed her ass, slapping it.

"That's it, say my name."

Elizabeth rubbed herself to an orgasm, and she had just come down when she heard a pair of voices.

Dean and Beau.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean growled.

Her eyes widened, and Lizzie tried to lift her body from the counter, but Ben pined her down.

"Hey, we are having a moment here," Ben scoffed to his brother.

The other two twins were staring at them, both in anger.

Oh, no.

She had screwed it up, she screwed everything up.

Lizzie tried to say something, but gasped when Ben kept fucking her, too sensitive from her orgasm.

"Ben!" she cried.

He slapped her ass.

"See? She likes it!" Ben grunted behind her. "Probably should have gotten here first if you wanted to call dibs."

She hid her face, embarrassed.

Oh, God!

"Fuck, keep talking, though," he growled. "She's squeezing me down like a vice."

“You think you can just fucking touch her-" Beau started, sounding furious.

“What?" Ben interrupted him. "Jealous?”

“Don’t act so cocky. The only reason you’re able to fuck her dry is because of me," he accused, not one to let his brother talk over him. "You think the women you bring here haven't spoken about how bad at sex you are?"

Long fingers grabbed Lizzie by her hair, and he moved her head as she would face his brothers, but she closed her eyes, not knowing what else to do.

"Fucking liar," Ben grunted. "Tell him, baby. Tell my stupid little brother how you jsut came so sweetly on my cock."

But before she could even utter a word - not that she was going to, anyway - Dean's voice rose.

"What that fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Someone huffed.

"What, you think I don't know about your little stunt, last night?" Beau asked. "Fucked her on the couch, as if she was just a stupid one-night stand."

"So what? You had sex with her because you thought you could do better?"

She covered her face with her hands.

Oh, no.

"I'm sorry," she whined.

She had just used them like a stupid slut, and now they knew and were going to kick her out and never want to see her again!

"Stop," she whined under Ben, lifting herself up. "Stop! Ben!"

He did, freezing in his spot, and stumbled back when she pushed him off with her foot, jumping off of the counter.

She didn't even realise she was crying until she opened her eyes and everything was a blur.

Lizzie collected Ben's hood, quickly putting it over her heard when the boys' voices mixed behind her.

She didn't know what else to do but escape, and she bolted to the front door as she pulled her shorts up again, running out barefoot.

Thankfully, her keys were right on the bow by the front door, and no one stopped her from getting into her car.

Or if they tried to, she was too fast for them.

Still, Lizzie turned on the engine and zoomed out of the driveway, not even realising she was having a panic attack until she almost didn't stop at a red light.

Fuck, she was going to die.

That was it. She was going to die like a slut, alone and unfulfilled.

She pushed on the brakes hard, stopping from landing right in the middle of the intersection but still close to it, and tried to collect herself.

What was wrong with her? Why did she have to be so needy? So stupid and desperate?!

Everything was perfectly alright before she started flirting with them! Things were going well, and now she had ruined everything like a stupid, stupid bitch!

When the light turned green, she kept driving, trying to blink her tears away, trying to keep herself straight.

She didn't know what to do. She couldn’t go back to the house, but couldn't go back to her family.

Lizzie was all alone. She didn't have anyone, no friends no job, no-

Her car beeped, alerting her of her nearly empty gas tank.

And no fucking gas, either.

She pulled up to the next gas station, looking through her waller in the glove compartment and finding just enough for a full tank.

And there went all of her money.

But she needed it. She needed to get out of there.

Lizzie stepped out of the car quickly, emotionally exhausted by now, and rested her forehead on against the car as she put the nozzle in the right place.

Fucking hell, what was she going to do?

. . .

"The Triplets" was posted on Patreon on January 2023. To read it now before anyone else and read the sequels "The Livestream (Ben x Lizzie)", "patience is a virtue (Dean x Lizzie)" and "the pictures (Beau x Lizzie)", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and it helps a lot.

. . .

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The Triplets: @ladysparkles78

[zomb1e-boy]

Hell n Back

Joel Miller xTransMasc! Reader

Part l

Fluff, soft Joel, suggestive themes, first kiss, hard time expressing emotions, Ellie being Ellie

(Request from @devotedlyburningtree )

The woods air was thin and musky. You were on patrol with the town loner Joel Miller aka Tommy’s older and ….hotter brother. He was stern, hotheaded, and professional. Things that come very useful in this world of death and despair, but you gotta find things to fight for. He had his purpose a snarky girl named Ellie. Speaking off she was with us on this mission. It’s a very simple motion find any supplies especially medical supplies. The trees were swaying in the whistling wind. It was truly beautiful out in nature.“I gotta piss can we stop somewhere that has a bathroom” Ellie piped up, this was the first real questions she’s asked despite the horrible joke book riddles. “We should be comin’ up to a gas station in a few minutes” you state showing the younger hazel eyed girl the map. “Fuck yea, hopefully they have some snacks too I’m so sick of spaghettio’s” she says. You chuckle at her statement and look at Joel. He had a smile on his face.

It was nice to see, but the man barely ever looks at you. You wonder if he hates your or somethin but you’ve never done nothin to make him upset. This is like your 5th mission together, you never asked to be paired with him Tommy was the one that paired up teams to go out. Ellie was never meant to come but she’s stubborn like her..dad? You’re not sure what relationship they have, but it’s father and daughter like non the less. The gas station is in view and you have a bright idea. “Ellie I bet I can beat you to the gas station.” You look at her raising your eyebrow playfully. “In your dreams old man” she says as she starts sprinting towards the gas station. “I ain’t that old I’m like 30 or something.” You say while running past her. You run into the gas station doors and get bombarded by an infected. A runner to be exact. You cry for Joel as it makes you fall on the grimy floor. It instantly pounces on top of you its face growing little fungus sprouts out of the side. You use one arm to block it from your face and the other hand to grab a knife. You grab your trusty hunter knife and shove it into its neck. Throwing off the corpse you get up to see Joel struggling with a clicker. You run up behind it and kill it too. You were so busy with your right you didn’t even notice the other ones in the store. Luckily that was the last one.

“Jesus fuck I’m so sorry Ellie I just thought it would be fun” you say looking at her with extreme guilt, the feeling you could’ve gotten her or Joel hurt pains you like no other. “We made it through it’s okay, no bites” she says trying to lighten the mood. You look at Joel and he looks at you for a minute before turning his head away quickly. He seemed upset but you didn’t want to push it. “I’m gonna go piss” and with that Ellie was gone it was just you and Joel. You go over to put your hand on his shoulder and he tenses. “Hey Joel I’m sorry again I just thought I’d be fun” you look at him in his hazel eyes darker than normal. “I-it’s okay” he says sternly as he walks away from your grasp. You look down at the ground but then you see him limping. “Hey you feelin okay?” You say shakily hoping it’s not what you think it is. “Yea.” that’s all he says. “No sit down.” You state your voice more firm than normal. For once he doesn’t back talk or say anything he just listens to your command. You pull up his pant leg bracing yourself only to see a gnarly cut. “God damn old man didn’t want you to hurt yourself.” you joke trying to lighten to mood. He laughs softly and face goes flush.

You grab your backpack and take your med kit out. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up alright? And don’t say no cause I’m gonna anyway.” you look at him directly in his eyes and he looks sheepish. It’s funny seeing a man like him listen to a younger man like you. You carried the good part of his leg softly while you prep the alcohol pad. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch, you know this, look at me okay just focus on me.” You out the pad on his wound and he grunts and closes his eyes. You grab his hand and squeeze it making him open his eyes wide. “Eyes on me.” You state again as you rub it gently on it. He grunts and winces but does as he’s told. You couldn’t tell if his face was red cause of the pain or cause… no there’s no way it’s cause of you. He is straight…right? After the worst part is done you take your hand away from his and, he has a small frown. You start wrapping it around his leg and he still has his puppy dog eyes on you. “You gotta stop looking at me like that Miller first you never look at me now you’re glued to me” you joke hitting his knee playfully. “I’m just doin what I was told.” He says as the corner of his mouth turning into a smirk. Once you’re done wrapping his leg you give it a gentle pat and put the pant leg down.

“Hey guys I’ve been exploring and there is a house that’s clear near but I’m gonna go chill in there. Catch up whenever lovebirds” she says as she struts away. Joel’s face goes completely red. “She uh she’s got a mouth on her sorry.” He says as if it’s something you didn’t know. “Joel she’s always like that, I think she said that course you’re as red as a tomato.” Joel looks at you with fear in his eyes he’s stuttering trying to find words but nothing comes out. You grab his chin gently and make his wondering eyes look at you again. “Joel do you have something you wanna tell me?” you say gently trying not to startle him.

He looks like his hearts stopped and he’s just staring at you and your lips before he kisses you. It’s sloppy and clumsy but it’s perfect. Both of your hands grab his jaw and pull his face closer. Before anything gets more heated you pull away. “I asked you to use your words, Joel.” He looks sheepish again but clears his throat and speaks. “I never thought I took a liking to men too much, but being with you on these missions…you’re so great with Ellie, you’re funny, and can take care of yourself..I couldn’t just not uh have some sort of feeling for you.” He’s still flushed but more calm you take his hand and rub your thumb across his fingers. “I’m not great at this stuff but I really do like ya..and I’d want to take you out if you’d like.” He looks you in your eyes and he’s more comfortable now.

“Joel, I thought you hated me you never looked at me but this makes sense. I can’t deny you are quite handsome and you’re strong, independent, and a loving asshole. What more would a guy want.”you say looking at him adoringly. He rubs his neck and blushes as he looks down. you grab his chin and kiss him again. The kiss is more take this time. He leans into you more as you stand up guiding him to his feet. His muddy boots shuffling against yours and you back him into the wall. Your hands roam his soft body as you kiss down his neck. Sucking on a part right behind his ear as he groans. You nudge your leg between his as he rubs up against it. His hair falling into his face and his eyebrows furrowed. This man looked like a god. As he’s whining and whimpering as he grinds himself on your leg you hear a noice and both instantly pull apart.

“What the fuck is…” Ellie looks at both of you and your state and turns around. “My bad gouging out my eyes now” she says walking fast out of the gas station again. You look at Joel and his scared expression and start bursting out laughing. The look on the oldest man face is absolutely priceless. “Why are you laughing that is not funny.” He says looking at your seriously arms crossed and everything. He was lookin zesty as hell. His demeanor made you laugh even harder to the point you had to catch your breath. “You lean on him for support as he can’t help but smile at your silliness. “She’ll be fine.. but I feel like we should continue this in a safer place, yea?” You look at him quirking your head. He eagerly nods making you chuckle as you drag him by his hand to the house. Looking back at him you see a smile you can’t believe you have him. You cracked the old man into a softy and you couldn’t be more happy.

[love-toxin]

grumpy, older steve and eddie??? how did you reach into my brain and find every one of my kinks. i would be insufferable, they’d get the sloppiest, gushiest, most toe-curling, head-

ok.....im going off.....OFF!!!

(cws: older!bully!steddie, innocent!f!angelface, age gap (20s-late 30s/40s), kinda cnc-ish, some very visceral descriptions of sex, an eensy hint of misogyny, throat training, oral/eiffel towering, boot humping, ball worship, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, degradation, rimming, steve and eddie really wanna humiliate you.)

so older also equals wiser = therefore Steve and Eddie that have aged like sour wine are connoisseurs of messy, gushy sex. they like it gross and sloppy and real, want you gagging and drowning in their musk and ball sweat like the pretty little slut you are.

like, if you follow their lead and agree to a little romp out behind the diner, you're gonna be on your knees in the dirt and grass and absolutely getting ruined. it's not some quick, clean handy with your little college frat guys who think the filthiest sex includes nothing more than spit--that's laughable to Steve and Eddie. they'll make you work for it, taking turns rubbing their cocks against your face and letting you get a feel for their heft, the look in your eyes as your pupils dilate at the size of them just earning you a few chuckles. you're so sweet and innocent it's just unfair, but it's a treat for a couple of reformed bullies like them. makes it much more satisfying to break you into becoming the shameless gutter whore they know you could be.

before that treatment can go on too long, Eddie will pull your head in and press your mouth to his balls, sighing at the warm feeling and digging his fingers into your scalp when you start squirming. you're just not used to a man's scent, but you'll adjust to it--and would you look at that, you do! your hands brace on his prickly thighs but you eventually stop struggling, your eyes fluttering shut as you soak in the taste of his wrinkled flesh on your tongue. he'll turn you into a proper sperm warmer soon, but the tender way you lap at each one and your inexperience showing through just makes it even more endearing, especially when you peek up through half-lidded eyes to see his reactions, hoping that you're doing a good job as you suck one of them into your mouth and nearly choke on it.

"go on, Stevie, try her out. bet that throat feels nice and warm."

just when you think you're doing well, Eddie pulls you off and passes you to his friend, angling your head so you come face to face with Steve's cock--one that's so veiny and almost purplish with need, swinging between his legs like a monster as he doesn't even bother guiding it in, just grabs the back of your skull with both hands and pushes you towards it. he's experienced, knows the angle of his hips and tilts them so he slides right down your throat, and squeezes your head like it's just a melon in his huge hands when you slap his thigh in a panic. you can't breathe, he's taking up every inch of space inside you!

"oh, please. you'll learn. through the nose, you little prude."

it feels like it doesn't matter, when he pulls back to start fucking you you can only catch a puff of air in that small pocket of space, which only gets smaller and smaller as he pummels your throat and grows eager to chase that squeezing sensation as you gag and gasp around his shaft. Eddie takes away one of your hands to wrap it around his neglected cock in the meanwhile, barely needing any of your attention or assistance as he holds it tight around him and keeps your grip steady as he fucks himself into it right by your head. not without a little something extra for you, though--he shoves his boot between your legs, clean but stained with grass and grease patches, and hooks it up so it curves right against your clothed pussy and grinds against your clit as he tilts it back towards him.

"hump it, sweetheart." he cackles, and shudders with pleasure when you obey, those sweet hips rolling back and forth against his shoe and causing his cock to twitch in your hand. it's a sensation to somewhat break you out of the haze of being Mr. Harrington's cockwarmer, your neck sinking and stretching with an uncomfortable bulge as he plunges his cock all the way down, your nose parting the thick curls of his bush until all you can smell is sweat and musk. the same scent comes from his balls, spit and precum smearing over them and making them sticky as they meet your chin on every thrust, nearly as fuzzy as the rest of him and so fucking fat with sperm that it aches every time they land. in fact, the only time your throat gets a break and you get to suck in a deep gasp of oxygen is in that moment when he pulls you off, before shoving you lower to sink under his weighty cock and suck his sack into your mouth. you've got no idea how much Steve loves that view, your pretty face wet with tears and spit off his dick rubbing between your eyes, moaning around his balls as you jerk some other guy off right next to you.

"c'mere, c'mere-" and upon witnessing what might just be the hottest thing he's ever gonna think about when he jerks off from now on, the long-haired man that's been using your hand as his own personal fleshlight can't take another second of it. Eddie gropes for your face, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you over and nudge the tip of his cock against your cheek, a moan finally spilling out of him when spurts of hot cum arc over your nose and splatter against your skin, eased out by his rough hand helping you twist hard strokes up and down his shaft as furiously as he can manage--at least with such a pretty young thing taking the brunt of his pent-up cumshot. you're messy with cum and spit and sweat, lips flushed and plump from the abuses they've rained down on them, and at the sound of a door opening around the corner of the building they both haul you up to your feet--but they're not done, shoving eager hands down the front and back of your panties to grope for the source of that delicious wetness you were leaking all over Mr. Munson's foot.

you're such a whore already, has it really only taken one try to get you there? but, then again, he can take you much further down--you're not even close to rock bottom yet, and both of them would love to see a pretty young thing like you totally crack under their feet. one look at Eddie, and the trailer trash he calls his best friend grins and nods, and Steve rips your mouth off his nuts despite wanting to just rub them right in and make you worship them. the hope that still glimmers in your eyes proves you have no idea what he's gonna do, but it starts dimming like he wanted when he pushes your head down lower, rumbling in that deep voice that I'm gonna make you love this as he raises his hips and positions you just so you're nuzzled up right where you need to be. and you surprise him once again, or you're just so resigned to your fate that you do as you're told, and his hips jerk suddenly at the sensation he's dreamed about since he first saw you walk up to their table.

"fuuuuuck...." he hasn't moaned like that since his glory days, he swears--your lithe little tongue flicking against his asshole sparks a wave of shivers running up and down his body, and he knows how sweaty he is, but you don't squirm away. just tremble and rock back against Eddie's boot as you start suckling on his rim, and Steve holds you in place to shakily hump your mouth as you timidly explore the new territory. it must be humiliating, having your face buried between some older guy's cheeks, letting him sink into the tip of your tongue so it slides right in and makes his balls squeeze and tighten up against your face. and that thought makes him grab at you harder and dig his blunt nails into your hair, a release coming on to him so fast he can't pull you off to cum in your mouth as he intended--he rides out his pleasure with your tongue buried in his ass, your air so thick with his heady scent that you nearly lose consciousness as he orgasms, his muscled walls clamping down on you tight until he finally loosens up completely and lets you throw your head back to take a deep breath.

"hey, missy! your lunch break's over!"

"c-coming-!" you squeak at the voice of your manager, all too huffy to be subtle as the two older men are fondling you under your work pants, two fingers plunging into your weepy pussy while two more rub at your clit. Eddie laps the seed off your dripping cheek while Steve is whispering a menagerie of dirty words into your ear, like cum, wanna see you cum, innocent little princess needs her guts filled, doesn't she? gonna leak all over my fucking fingers like I'm not old enough to be your goddamn father. just like getting your clit played with, don't you, slut? and that's what breaks you, makes your jaw go slack and your eyes roll back as you collapse into their arms, feet kicking against the ground as that overwhelming pleasure washes over you while you distantly hear your manager shouting your name. trying not to speak but not being able to anyways, a mess of shuddered gasps and squeaks escaping you as you clamp down on Eddie's fingers and listen to Steve quietly moaning more filthy nonsense just below your ear.

"-get in this damn kitchen, before I fire your ass out the fucking door!" they shout again, and with the fear of getting caught with two of your customers sobering you up, you stumble and hurry away from them with frantic fingers patting down your appearance. trying not to look like you just got fucked behind the diner you barely make minimum wage at.

"y-yes! coming, I'm sorry!" you can't even risk sparing a glance back at them, and you're too afraid to, worried that they might come right back in and spill the details of how whorish you are. and they do return by the time you check the mirror, and self-consciously find yourself walking round to get to any tables you have lined up. but there's only one, one right by the window. theirs.

they reclaim their seats, pants buttoned up and sweat wiped from their foreheads. they look as normal and somewhat-disheveled as ever, plopping down into the booth seats across from each other with a cup of coffee each, both of them nearly empty and the dregs cold from leaving them to spend some quality time with you on your break. and with a few frightened, timid steps towards their table, they deign to look up at you and Eddie grins, offering you nothing more than a lift of his cup and a question.

"be a sweet girl and bring us another coffee, kay? give us a smile, and I'll give you a good tip, too."

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Ari.... I'm begging for more sugarbaby! Jason. Maybe sth for TTT? 🫣

Jason exhaled slowly and buried his face in the pillow, trying to keep his breathing even. It felt good. Really good.

But fuck.

Even after you warned him, told him it could be a little much- he hadn't believed you.

"What's the matter, baby?" you croon, gloating. "Not so tough now are you-"

"Just don't stop," he pleaded. Only to scream breathlessly when you twitched your hips. He was getting close to red line. So close. And he didn't want to come yet.

Mostly because he didn't want to lose a bet.

He said he could last 30 minutes. And he'd barely made it 3. Barely from the time you splayed him open and started going after you prepped him.

If he lost- well. He'd probably enjoy it.Eating your pussy until you got tired of coming and tapped out. But. It was the principle of the thing.

"Such a baby," you tease, "Doesn't that feel good?"

"Yes," he panted. "Fuck. Oh fuck. Y/N. I- Oh jesus. Fuck." Your hips twitched again, Pushing on his prostate and before he could stop anything, he came. Teeth sinking into the pillow to muffle his bellow.

"Good boy," you praise, rubbing his hips. Pushing again lightly to keep him coming. You want him spent. Throughly spent. A big baby who just wants to lay his head on your chest and snuggle.

You love him docile and pliant. He's just so sweet and eager to please.

"I did good?" he whined.

"You're a good boy," you praise. "You look so pretty coming down your belly for me."

Jason felt his face burn and he shivered as he felt his come cooling on his skin. It felt dirty. And delicious. And the way you were talking to him- god it felt nice. He felt so... safe.

"Lets get you cleaned up, pretty boy," you soothe.

"But I lost-"

"And I intend to collect," you tell him, easing out of him carefully. "But not until you're ready to be feisty about it."

"Ma'am-"

"Let me enjoy you like this," you croon. "My pretty boy. You're so sweet when you're all submissive and acting like a baby."

"I'm not-" Jason felt his face burn. He wasn't submissive. That wasn't what he was there for. You wanted-

"Sometimes I like having someone to fuss over. Let me fuss?" you ask, putting him on his back and admiring the mess he'd made of himself.

"You like-"

"It's just so satisfying having a big strapping man whining for me," you hum. "Especially when they're all shy and sweet like you."

"I'm not shy," he pouted, face burning.

"Of course you're not, pretty boy," you tutt. "Your face is just red from the exertion."

[farlynthordens]

SKB Short Story 2 - Mushroom Keeper Caravan

summary of a short story published in Dengeki Bunko, vol 62. takes place between v1 and 2.

this is the only short story that had original art with it (above), and I love it so much🥺 anyway...

Milo is taking a bath alone under a cold waterfall. as you do. it’s transitioning into winter, so bathing in the tepid waters isn’t really appealing to most people, but milo seems to be glad that he’s clean.

He gets out of the water and dresses himself. he wonders if bisco is still busy, since he hasn’t shown up yet to take his own bath.

He finds bisco by their camp, helping actagawa finish pulling off the shell layer he’s shedding. once free and feeling better, actagawa goes to play in the river.

B: “I’m beat. He hadn’t shed in a while, so I thought he was done growin’... but looks like he’s still got a lot left to do.” M: “Come on, you should go take a bath! I’ll make lunch in the meantime.” B: “Can’t, still got one more thing to do. Actagawa’s markings came off ‘cause he shed, so I gotta paint those back on before--”

Bisco picks up on a faint noise, then gives a look to milo. they draw their knives just as steel arrows come flying at them. the arrows are knocked into nearby trees, and explode into mushroom clusters.

Actagawa comes to help. he makes a beeline for the waterfall and bashes the cliff with his claws, causing a person who was at the top of the cliff to fall into the pool in front of them.

Milo saves the person from drowning. he and bisco realize it’s a male mushroom keeper. bisco angrily asks if he had come after them for the bounty money, and wants to know which tribe he’s from.

The guy explains that because actagawa had no markings, he thought they were part of some enemy group. he then looks up at bisco... and seems to recognize him?

??: “It’s me, Chaba! Y’know, grandson of Gana from the Tottori tribe. Wow, this takes me back. I used to read to you all the time!” M: (“Do you know him?”) B: (”Uh... maybe... but I don’t remember him at all...”)

Chaba says that his caravan, the entire Tottori tribe, was about 30 minutes behind him while he scouted the path. gana, who is the tribe’s elder, decided that they should all move to Imihama now that it’s become a mushroom keeper refuge.

He’s about to go bring the caravan to their location, but then looks bisco over again and gets teary-eyed. C: “...Man, you really became a right mushroom keeper, didn’t you Bisco? I bet gran will be happy to know that. And I’m sure Jabi is happy too, from up in heaven...” B: “Uh? Wait, Jabi isn’t....!” Chaba runs off without listening.

Slight skip ahead to when they meet up with the caravan. bisco and milo talk with gana as she skillfully paints the mark of the god enbi onto actagawa’s shell. after she finishes painting, she starts smoking from a pipe.

Gana asks how “akemi” is, and bisco tells her that he is not only alive but doing well after having his rusting cured. G: “Monster with the devil’s luck, he always has been. I was lookin’ forward to defacin’ his funeral portrait, but s’pose that won’t be happenin’.” M: (”Who’s Akemi?”) B: (”That’a Jabi - Hebikawa Akemi. If you read ‘hebikawa’ different, it’s ‘jabi.’“ M: (“What, it was just a nickname...?!”) G: “And his little brat, too, just narrowly avoided leavin’ this mortal realm and grew up strong. Guess I should give praise where it’s due. ... You even managed to nab a pretty girl. Well, it don’t matter how strong ya get if ya can’t pass it on to the next generation.” B: “Wait, by ‘pretty girl’, you mean him?”

Milo is uncomfortable under their stares. M: “Um, hello. I’m Milo, Bisco’s--” G: “My, yer even cuter up close. Lemme see yer hands. Do ya know how to use a bow?” M: “Y-yes! Bisco taught me...” G: “Well ain’t that great! At least this kid did somethin’ right finding such a nice wife. But yer just all muscle... ya don’t look well suited to breastfeedin’.” M: “Wife?? Huh? Wait- what...! GYAHHHHH!!”

Gana pinches milo’s chest with incredible strength and milo starts yelling in pain. he doubles over and bisco just stares at him, not knowing what to do or say. he then gets slapped on the head.

G: “Damn fool! Do I gotta hold yer hand to bring ya to yer wife? Don’t ya know we’re havin’ less mushroom keeper kids these days?!” B: “I never fuckin’ said that I got a wife, you old bitch! Jabi retired and this is my new PARTNER! I gotta spell it out?” G: “Oh, is that right? With a face like that, I thought he was a lady! Hehehe... ahaha!”

She bursts into a fit of laughter. everyone seems happy seeing their leader in a good mood. they crowd around bisco and milo, asking them for favors like if bisco can fire a shot for them or if milo can read books to the kids. gana then calls on the tribe to bring out their best alcohol and meat, and of course good food for actagawa too.

Bisco turns red in embarrassment and tries to tell Gana something. B: “Uh... ma’am. Sorry, but I don’t really--” G: “Oh I know, ya think ya won’t like what we got. Don’t worry, I like to drink so I have lots of good stuff. Ya won’t be bored here, I tell ya.” Milo was the only one who knew that Bisco didn’t drink alcohol, and he snickered as he whispered into Bisco’s ear. M: (“It’s okay, I’ll take your drink if you take some of my food. If they bring out centipede karaage, make sure you eat it for me.”) B: (“O... okay. Let’s do that.”) G: “Would yer panda friend like his own tattoo? I’m good at ‘em, unlike the other elders. How about one that gives divine protection from a real strong god?” M: “No way! Really?! Okay, then I also want mine under my right eye here...” B: “Hell no, stop! Calm down, old hag! And stop listenin’ to her, Milo!”

They spend the entire night partying with the caravan, getting strung around teaching people archery and medicine and other things. off to the side, actagawa just quietly ate his food and played in the river.

THE END

Other notes:

Chaba means tea leaf, and Gana (her name written in the story as ガナ) might be a reference to Ghana (ガーナ) chocolates?

[howl-fantasies]

Hello Author-san! If you have time... I'd like to request Gotham characters realizing they've been a total douche towards [name].

I re-read all your stories recently (still amazing, like I'm reading them for the first time amazing) and I noticed that a lot of Gotham people(😆) are (most of the time) always very mean towards [name] even when [name] always clean up after them 🤔

I just wanna see them realize [name] needs some love too- 😤

Take care Author-sannnn 💛

Awwww it's so cute, thank you for your request and compliments ♥️ They weren't the best frenemies I have to say and often are ungrateful little brats with her indeed.

Don't worry, Y/N doesn't mind at all. If anything, she finds their hostility amusing. Especially coming from Oswald and Edward who she sees as moody teens: claiming they hate you but desperately asking for your help when they aren't able to do the most simple thing. The irony is just *chef kiss* 😂

It was quite hard to write about Jim since he's so attached to the law, what's right and wrong. Being a little bit nice with Y/N is as hard for him as beeing genuinely nice with Oswald. But he realizes she can be good, sort of.

Warning: English mistakes, it's not my first language, I'm working on it. Violence, bad words.

--

Oswald Cobblepot

"That freaking harlot!"

He was fuming, as his phone was crashed against the hard wood of his desk, Oswald cursed again thinking about the end of his call with Y/N.

Behind him, Victor watched their boss screeches like an angry bird, slapping the poor device again and again. Penguin was easy to anger, he thought. So easy, his dear wife made it a sport to irks him as many times as she could per day.

He felt his own phone buzz in his heart pocket. She broke another record doing it, he knew, winning their bet in doing so in less then 30 seconds. He owed her a calzone.

"YOU'RE NOT LISTENING AREN'T YOU VICTOR?!"

The killer first blinked. Admiring a new shade of red growing on Cobblepot's furious face. Then, shrugged in carefree way.

"I KNEW IT! Stop thinking about this stupid excuse of a woman!" yelled the little man while finishing the massacre of his now dead phone.

"Boss." He called.

"Whut now, Zsasz?!"

"Why don't you just stop working with Y/N? You can't stand her and know I'm perfectly able to annihilate about anyone in town... " Victor stated flatly.

Oswald scoffed like the bald man had insulted his dear mother. "That's utterly stupid!" He said, now throwing him a hard glare, soon joined by another scoff. "Your idiotic wife is irking, acting like she owns any freaking place she's standing in, is demanding ridiculously high compensation for anything she's asked to do"

The killer nodded at each point made, making a few "Uh-uh" here and there.

"But she's useful. And I don't have to explain every steps of my plans to her, because she already knows, Victor. That damn woman is already en route to do the job before I even have to open my mouth!" Penguin yelled angrily. At him, her or about the fact that he recognized some qualities to the woman? Zsasz didn't know.

And didn't even have the time to ask, since Oswald was now pointing him with an accusating finger. "THAT makes her, and trust me it's killing me to say it: valuable. Very valuable. But also dangerous. And you're suggesting that I stop working with her?! For what? My rivals to contact her immediately and ask her to annihilate me? When she's rivaling freaking mediums when it comes to predict my next actions?! You're very capable with your guns, but against her?! This snake-woman would destroy YOU and ME. Or more likely will use YOU to destroy ME. No. Way. Not a chance! "

Zsasz raised a bored brow. "So much faith in me, boss. It stings you know."

Still in front of him, Cobblepot slammed his elegant cane on the hard floor. "It's faith in her that I have, faith to make you do whatever she wants, without even have to break a sweat", Oswald deadpaned.

"Order me to kill her then." Shrugged the henchman without any emotion on his face or in his tone.

Cobblepot jolted like the thunder hit him. "What?!" He whisper-yelled. "Are you MAD?!" Now he was definitely yelling. "Aren't you her husband?! How dare you even suggest it?!" Pacing around like a lion inside of its cage, Penguin now used his cane to point at him. "First you want to put her on the side, taking her job, and now you want to shoot her to death?! Yes, of course, the woman deserves a strike from Karma, but this! You're supposed to be ready to die for your lover VICTOR, not be ready to be the one killing them!" Zsasz was pretty sure the walls were shaking with how loud the new King of Gotham was.

All of sudden, Oswald froze, his cane still pointing at him and his eyes wide. "You don't deserve her." He whispered before his voice was back to normal. "I forbid you to do it, Victor. I absolutely forbid you to even point the barrel of your gun at any part of her body, do you hear me?"

Zsasz's face was still blank as he shrugged and nodded. "Fair mistake, thought you hated her you know. Just wanted to help here."

Oswald gritted his teeth angrily. "If anything, be grateful for all the work she does and the affection she's showing you, when all you deserve would be her incredible silver tongue to work against you and make you stab yourself in the knee."

--

----------- 1 New Message --------

Oswald Cringebblepot

Go find Ed. I need to talk to him.

.

Y/N

Already called him, he's on his way.

.

Oswald Cringebblepot

Thank you. And good work.

.

Y/N

Did you let Strange play with your brain again Oswald?

.

Oswald Crazbblepot

I'm just being polite, harlot. Doesn't hurt to be from time to time.

.

Y/N

Ok, Creepbblepot.

-------- End of Message -------

.

-------- 1 New Message --------

Victor Zsasz

I'm formally forbidden to shoot you.

.

Y/N

My, oh my. Look at how tables have turned. Thought he would want me dead after my last pun on the phone.

.

Victor Zsasz

Reverse psychology.

.

Y/N

You never cease to amazed me.

.

Victor Zsasz

What can I say?

I do good work.

.

Y/N

👌👏

---

EDWARD NYGMA / THE RIDDLER

Calling Y/N, the second most prolific assassin in town, names was at this point a constant for him.

She never held any grudge against him for that, still answering his messages whenever they came and teasing him to no end. So what's changed?

Seated on one of the sofa's of his hideout, Riddler was intensely watching his phone. More exactly the last message sent to the woman, that she saw, he could tell, but which she didn't answer. 3 hours without a single irritating "Riddlie, RiddLame or Riddl-ED". What happened?

"Cat got your tongue? Would be the first time. Not so surprising to finally see your microscopic wit running dry." He sent.

Again. A simple "seen" under his text, but no answer. Not a single word. He tsked, clearly irritated.

"Not so surprising to get no answer when all you do is insulting her intelligence." Muttered a well-known voice from the mirror standing in the corner of the room.

"Shut it. Her so-called intelligence is nothing compare to our genius. Pointing it out isn't even an insult, it's just a fact" Snapped the man in green.

"Genius. Yes, that's what we are. But she's no simpleton. Far from it actually. And even you know that. You should be nicer with her... " Answered his reflexion in a shy voice.

"I. Said. Shut it. ED. Don't start to try to put some sickly sweet sentiments into the link I share with Y/N." Said Riddler angrily while facing the damn mirror, his eyes glaring at those much more softer he saw in front of him.

"Our link." Ed slowly answered.

Stunned by his words, Riddler felt more than he saw his head moving slightly back from the shock. "What?" He now whispered.

"Our link. Y/N is my friend too. She was even before she knew you", Ed said, straightening his shirt awkwardly.

This time, his whole body jolted. His mouth opened wide incredulously. The surprise was short though, soon replaced by hot anger.

"Friends? She didn't even talk to you, stupid! Just answered the riddles you wrote on a ridiculous card for Kringle and forgot in the interrogation room, like the idiot you are. Y/N happened to be here waiting for Jimbo to question her. You call that being friend?!" Riddler mocked.

Ed lowered his eyes but still shrugged. "She knew someone was behind the tainted mirror and ask them to tell the author of the riddles it was quite good. It was nice. And friendly." He argued.

"You're being delusional." Deadpaned Riddler. The man glanced at his phone again, in case this crazy conversation made him miss a notification from her.

"Who is delusional thinking about calling a friend someone he always mocks and insults?" Ed's voice taunted. Who would have thought the poor and nice little Ed had that in him?

"Don't. Just don't try to make me feel guilty Ed. Y/N isn't your fragile Kringle or your damn librarian! Calling each other names but still answering when being contacted IS how our friendship works. Always have been and will always be." Riddler spat, gritting his teeth angrily.

"So we can so brilliantly see." Ed chastised, his eyes opening comically as he lifted the hand holding his phone tightly.

"Y/N is a practical and logical woman, Ed. She 100% KNOWS it and don't need any praise to feel secure or any kind of exterior validation to acknowledge the brilliant mind she already knows she has! Her confidence as well as her sharp mind are why I like her so much! And it's also why she's MY friend. "

He saw the hurt he caused on Ed's face. The ex-forensic was left with no answer, his mouth wide open in shock.

"You know, I'm Ed's friend too, RiddLack-of-gentleness. But thanks for your lovely words, got me all flustered, RidDEar" Came Y/N's flat voice from his right hand. When did he call her? One look at his reflexion answered him. Ed was smiling like a kid seeing his prank working even better than he first imagined.

Now it was Riddler's turn to turn pale, opening stupidly his mouth but with no sound coming from it.

"Cat got your tongue?" The woman mocked.

Was it a screech which finally came from him? A high pitched scream? He wasn't too sure. But a very shameful sound, it was certain.

"Oh." She sounded confused for a second. "Bad time maybe? Never thought about Narcisse doing anything else than drowning himself..." Her innuendo made him livid, but still too shocked to answer intelligibility.

"Didn't want to interrupt your little self-care time dear. My texts weren't working so I called. I'll call back later" She was now purring, ending the call before he collected himself enough to yell at her.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" Finally boomed his voice in direction of the mirror.

"Let her know how precious she is to us" Sang Ed's voice just before he disappeared, letting Riddler see his disheveled and sweating state. Joke was on him. Definitely.

JIM GORDON

"... I don't understand. I fucking don't understand."

Rambling like a mad man was becoming his habit. A bad one if you ask any sane person. But here in Gotham? He was simply getting acclimated to the city.

"How the hell can you take it so fucking well?!" He asked Harvey, watching the old cop who was calmly sipping his coffee and enjoying a maybe too greasy donut.

Said cop stopped his chewing for a second, his eyes looking something on his right like he was contemplating what to say.

Earlier this day, Jim woke up with one of Y/N's creepy texts. A simple "RAT-A-TAT-A-TAT-A-TATAT". Last time she sent something similar, the GCPD's HQ was attacked by some crazy wannabe gangster with machine guns. So it wasn't that surprising that he carried the goosebumps with him all day, right?

Why would she inform him about an imminent attack? He didn't know. Didn't understand last time and still doesn't now. Not like he formed any kind of friendship with her. On the contrary. A simple look at his texts to her was enough to tell.

He swore he would be the one finally putting her behind Black Gates' bars. Not Arkham. She wasn't insane, or so he thought. He wasn't so sure anymore...

"Why?" He muttered again, taking his head between his hands and deciding to sit in front of Bullock. "Why am I the only one shocked by the fact that this psychopath not only sent me her creepy text but also sent it to the boss, Alvarez and you?!" He snapped.

Harvey shrugged while gulping the last drops of his beverage. "You'll get used to it." The older man finally said.

Gordon made a face. "She's a fucking criminal! Not a fellow cop, not a snitch, a freaking killing machine walking around without a care in the world. What's wrong with you guys?!"

Bullock let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his scruffy jaw in a tired way. "Neutral Evil." He finally said.

"Uh?" Asked Jim, his brow rising slowly as he leaned in his co-worker's direction.

"Neutral Evil." Harvey repeated slowly. "When the kid started to save our arses sporadically, we asked our psychiatrists to work on her case again. They decided she was Neutral Evil." He developed.

"... Sounds like a D&D thing." Gordon muttered incredulously, making Harvey laugh loudly. "Well it is, two of them are freaking nerds, always babbling about this thing. What amaze me is that you know about it. Should go play with them next Sunday if we're still breathing." He mocked, earning the middle finger from the younger cop.

"Heard kids talking about it in town. Debating which side they were going to play", Gordon detailed, making Bullock hummed and nod absently.

"Our own grown up childchiatrists took ages to decide if we had to call her Neutral or lawful Evil, since the woman has some sort of honor code." He rambled. "But, and I'm quoting them here: "Since she's a selfish little piece of shit and doesn't give a fuck about using / killing anyone for her own purpose which doesn't seem to be some sort of anti-hero or noble villain goal", they decided she was Neutral.""

Gordon nodded, waiting for more and making Harvey sigh even more. "They also stated that she was helping us because we were useful to her, in a way or another. As soon as we'll stand between her goal and her, she'll most likely put a bullet between our eyes." The older explain with a detached face.

"And you all go with it like it's something perfectly normal? How is that supposed to help me feel better?!" shouted Jim incredulously.

"Well it's not. If anything, it's supposed to make you understand that you're safe. For now. Which, in this good ol' city, is a fucking luxury let me tell you", answered the other cop in a harsh tone, his wrinkles even more accentuated by the displeased frown he was wearing.

Now that he was looking at it more intensely, Gordon noticed a little frown on the corner of Harvey's mouth. "There's more." The young cop said.

"Uh?" Asked Harvey, who leaned back in his seat. His porture seemed tensed. "What now, what are you talking about?". He growled.

"There is something more with Y/N. Something you're not telling me." Said the young cop suspiciously. And the reaction he got from Bullock just confirmed it.

"You all but quoted psychiatrists, only carefully talking about what their opinion is. But never put yours. It's not like you, we both know you're far more judgemental than this and usually don't hesitate to tell everyone what you think about someone or something. So, what are you hiding, Harvey?" He asked lowly, paying attention to not be heard by their co-workers.

Bullock's eyes grew wide for only a second. A little second which definitely convinced Gordon to dig further. "What. Harvey?" He pressed.

The other cop tsked angrily then cursed a few times. "Ok. Ok. Just fucking stop frowning like I was confessing a murder or you'll get the whole damn room's attention." Harvey spat in a hushed tone. He took a long minute to inspire deeply. "Remeber when you were abducted by those crazy salary men, who decided to organize hunger games for a fucking job?" Jim nodded slowly.

"Who do you think helped us finding you? Uh? A little angel in charge of your freaking safety? Sorry to tell you this, but your angel likes black leather and rocket launchers a little too much." Jim opened his mouth to protest, or, at least try to argue that she may have needed him in one of her twisted evil plans.

But Harvey made a 'no' with his head. "You were tracking her like a hunting dog for the blowing of an entire building. If anything your death would have been better, for her." Said the older.

"Maybe not on long term", countered Gordon. "We now know she's quite good at scheming and being two or three steps ahead anyone. One skill she has in common with Cobblepot". He added.

Harvey nodded but still seemed pretty sceptical. "The betrayal too, then. Since she was the one who send a text to Montoya and Allen when her dearest husband came here to fetch you, mate."

Now that news totally stunned him. Jim was looking like a fish out of water. "Why would she-..." Harvey shrugged. "Maybe she knew Zsasz was quite in the mood to cut any members you wouldn't need to talk to Falcone that day. Maybe out of fucking generosity. Who knows. But the fact is she still saved your life, yes she did. And not only once." The older man grunted.

"She's a manipulative and a selfish bitch most of the time, yes she is. But I assure you, she's more Lawful-bullshit than our clowns of psychiatrists give her credit for. She's not good. Absolutely not. But I'm sure she has plans for Gotham, so much more than making it her little killing playground. What exactly? I do not know. But you seem to have earned a place in her grand scheme. As well as the Wayne kid, who she helped too by the way. Sometimes even for free." He said.

Jim closed his mouth but was getting paler. "She worked with the kid?!" He breathed, feeling panic starting to take his body.

"I also owe her my life, Jim. God knows I'm no good cop, but she still decided to keep me alive, sending me infuriating bullshit since she was 15. How do you think I was able to survive so long in this hell hole, aside from my natural charm, charisma and shady connexions? She's not good. But sometimes she isn't all bad."

The buzz of Gordon's phone brought back their attention to the room. He got it out of his back pocket, only to see a text from her: "10"

10 what? Guys, feets away from their HQ?

Another buzz. "9".

It was freaking seconds. She was sadistic enough to instigate this kind of nerves breaking game.

"8". He raised his head in total panic, quickly showing the texts to Harvey.

"7". "FUCKING HELL ! EVERYBODY TAKE COVER! NOW!"

"6"

Chaos. At Bullock's scream, all cops in the GCPD ducked under or behind something, pulling out their guns.

"5".

"Someone is going to shoot us!" Jim heard himself yell.

"4". "Get ready to open fire!"

"3"

"2"

"1"

A deafening explosion boomed outside, just in front of the GCPD's main gates. Nobody dared to move, or even breath. Ready to shoot at any moment.

But after a long minute and nothing happening, glances started to land on him and Bullock. So much, they felt the urge to bolt out of their hidding spot to rush near the doors, guns held firmly in their hands.

They exchanged a quick glance before slowly opening a door with one hand, the other ready to pull the trigger.

There, in front of the police station, was standing a white van. Well, more the white burning carcass of a van to be honest. The vehicle seemed to have been stopped brutally by a rocket. Disfigured corpses were laying all around it, staining the hard cold ground and the dirty snow in red.

"Fucking hell" Breathed Harvey on his left, getting is full attention on something planted directly on the snow.

"Is that... -" Jim started incredulously.

"A rocket launcher with a bow attached to it and a decapitated head where the rocket should be? Your answer is a fucking yes, Gordon", grunted Bullock also stunned.

Jim didn't even have the time to say something else. A little music suddenly resonated near where the rocket launcher was oddly standing. Exactly like the irritating music you would hear coming from a happy birthday card.

Gordon's phone buzzed again in his pocket and he quickly grabbed it.

------ 1 New Message -----

Y/N

Happy upcoming birthday Jimbo. Hope you liked my present.

-------- End of message ------

"What the hell" He muttered, looking at Harvey in hope of some kind of explanation.

The older cop blinked stupidly while looking at the text then put his attention back on the creepy present. Though his observations were cut short by Jim's shocked voice.

"There is something inside of the mouth" He said.

Both of them slowly approached the beheaded head. As soon as they reached it, the Happy birthday music stopped, replaced by a heavy silence. Jim raised his right hand and, with caution, put the mouth apart, grabbing something solid and sticky from all the blood.

"What is it?" Pressed Harvey while nervously glancing around.

Jim opened his hand with a grimacing face, only to see a rectangular shaped plastic thing. "USB key", he whispered.

Again, the happy birthday music came to life. Only a few meters from them, making them jump in surprise. Here, standing on the other side of the road was Y/N, her arms nonchalantly crossed under her breasts. Her face flashed a quick sadistic grin, just before she raised her right hand in the air, her index finger pointing at something behind them.

Harvey and him followed her cue to look and turned around, only to see a huge advertising panel, which had on it Galavan's face and a "Vote Galavan" just under it. The two turned in her direction again, just in time to see her making a ridiculous "hello" motion with her hand then turning on her heels to disappear in a shady alley.

"Do you think the gang she shot and Galavan have something to do with each other?" Tried Harvey. The old man looked at his still very pale face, seeing his eyes glance at the USB key.

"Probably." He whispered.

"Well, seems like we'll live to see another day", said Bullock casually, trying to make him come out of his muteness.

What was it all about? Thought Gordon. Suddenly, he remembered the brief exchange he had with the woman about Galavan and his suspicions concerning his true motives for the city. Was she trying to help?

------- 1 New Message ------

Jim Gordon

Why did you helped us?

.

Y/N

Pretty sure the happy birthday musical card was enough of a cue for you to figure it out, Gordeaf.

.

Jim Gordon

Just because my birthday is in two days, you decided to save the whole GCPD with taking those thugs lives? Excuse me to be suspicious.

.

Y/N

It wasn't my gift, Jim. This was a mere bonus.

.

Jim Gordon

Why the USB key then?

.

Y/N

Since you were lacking elementary common sense during our last little chit chat session, I decided to offer you one. Make a good use of it.

.

Jim Gordon

What Alvarez, my boss and Harvey had to do with it?

.

Y/N

Nothing. They're too handsome, talented or stupidly fun to be wasted on a petty little shooting. Have a nice day on the Good side James.

--------- End of messages ------

"My ego wants to identify as the handsome or talented one, but I'm pretty sure I'm the stupidly fun one" grunted Harvey who was reading the whole conversation from above his shoulder. "Meh, still alive and grateful for it", he added just before padding his shoulder friendly.

"Yeah. Still alive and grateful for it. I supposed", Jim hesitantly replied.

--

A/N I hope you liked it! 🥰

[lizzie-is-here]

like the dawn

part x- the letters

“i’m afraid of a lot of things, but mostly, most sincerely, i am afraid of being completely unraveled by you, and you finding nothing you want in here” - l.m. dorsey

summary: as you settle in at the compound, the free time gives you a bit too much room for self reflection. not like the closeness of your trio is helping with your littles crushes either.

wordcount: 4.3k

warnings: pining, more pining, lil 🤏 angst, trauma, hydra fucked up ya boi, lists, yes lists is a warning

a/n: can you tell i was obsessed with parallels this chapter 💀 also the ✨olive theory✨ but no but i’m really happy w how this turned out hope u enjoy and like always, love you! 🥺🤍

taglist: @whelvedfeelingsstuff @sebsgirl71479 @rebloggingmyrecs @babyblublossom @local-mr-frog @thenyxsky @capsiclesdoll @moonlightreader649 @saranghaey @almosttoopizza

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The next days were dedicated to establishing a schedule. Thankfully, that was something Steve had always been good at. With his help, you had a nice, flexible schedule that would help you ease back into normal life.

5:00 AM:

Wake up. Take a flying lap. Get ready. Suppress the urge to think about how domestic getting ready with your boys is. Head down to the kitchen for a snack before stretching and going for a run around the compound. Follow up with a workout and cool-down stretch.

7:00 AM:

Eat a good breakfast, and use the opportunity to try new foods. Sometimes other members of the teams join you. You still don’t talk around them much. After breakfast, shower.

8:30 AM:

Let Steve teach you and Bucky about the modern world, plus catch you up on his life. Get distracted by his smile and his biceps. Pretend to not be distracted. Think about the lockbox.

12:00 PM:

Eat lunch. Sometimes with other team members. After lunch, go for a fly around the grounds.

1:30 PM:

Either run errands or just go into town. Avoid touchy paparazzi and blush when Bucky defends you in front of them. Get confused about why you’re blushing. Think about the lockbox again.

6:30 PM:

Dinner. Always a full-team event. Sit silently so as to not interrupt or bother anyone. Always thank whoever cooked or ordered the food. Help clean up after.

After a week, you’re comfortable with the order. You enjoy how much time you spend with your boys, despite worrying about being clingy. And despite how quiet you are around everyone else, you enjoy being around them, too.

One day, after your morning run, none of the three of you hear the noise coming from the kitchen. But the team hears you.

You, Bucky, and Steve are in the middle of a half-joking-half-serious debate about Steve’s old USO costume, voices carrying down the halls with a lightheartedness that the rest of the team isn’t used to hearing.

“It made your ass look great,” you insist, causing Tony to snort and shoot an “I-told-you-so” look at Natasha. Sam silently laughs even harder when he hears the infamous Winter Soldier fully agree with you, even going into talking about how “lifting” the spandex was.

“You two are just pervs,” Steve laughs. “That uniform hid absolutely nothing.” Bucky elbows him.

“Bet the girls loved that,” he chuckles. Steve goes ten shades of red and hides his face in his hands, trying to ignore the teasing.

The lights in the kitchen flicker with your laughter, and a few of the Avengers glance up. Compound lights rarely flicker, much less go out. A perk of having a Stark running your tech.

The three of you stumble into the kitchen, and in the brief moment before you realize the whole group is gathered there, Natasha Romanoff notices three things.

One: Steve has never looked this happy. Not in the four years she’s known him. His features are lighter, the deep crease between his brow is relaxed. He finally looks his age.

Two: You and Barnes are much louder than you’ve been acting. She supposes guilt is making you more shy than usual. More than anything, she’s glad to see you smiling for once.

Three: The three of you are absolutely in love with one another.

Hidden glances, lingering touches. As the matchmaker of the group, she’s seen it dozens of times before. She knows the signs.

But she’s no fool. Her “mother” didn’t raise her to be one. The three of you are, in the most polite way possible, mentally fucked. It’s hard not to be, after 70 years are absolute shit. And that makes relationships more difficult and complicated than they already are.

Natasha makes a mental note that she’ll share with Wanda later.

The moment you turn and spot the group, your little trio freezes. You and Bucky go silent, though you’re still trying to hide occasional chuckles as he elbows Steve. The blond is mostly unaffected, though his smile cools a bit.

“Vis helped make sandwiches,” Wanda says, breaking the tense silence. “Come and try them.”

You oblige, taking one from the tray and sitting on a barstool. You leave one stool of space between you and Sam and tuck your wings close to your body, hoping to not trip anyone.

The Falcon leans in as conversation continues.

“Hey,” he whispers conspiratorially. You tilt your head. “Barton and I were wondering if you’d want to join the Bird Squad.”

The what? The look of confusion on your face has Sam explaining.

“You know, I’m the Falcon, he’s Hawkeye. You don’t have a bird-themed name, but hey, I think the wings are more than enough for you to qualify.”

Grinning at his antics, you nod. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll join the…”

“Bird Squad,” he says.

“The Bird Squad,” you finish. Bucky comes over just then, raising a brow at the man next to you.

“Please stop with the bird puns. The bird-patterned socks were bad enough,” he groans. Bucky takes the seat between you two nonetheless. He offers you the olives from the toothpick in his sandwich. You trade them for the crust off yours.

Next to Tony, Steve waits for the billionaire to speak first. The two can rarely ever talk without arguing, but he’s more than willing to try. For the team, if not for himself.

“I know we joke about you guys being old, but physically, how old are you actually?” Tony asks. He’s watching you peel the crust from your sandwich.

Steve huffs, calculating. “I turn 31 this year, and those two… Well, we don’t know how long they were in cryo between… missions.” He glances at you and Bucky. “She was 27 and he was 28 when they went under.”

The blond can’t read Tony’s expression as he nods, simply taking another sip of coffee. Steve takes it as a sign he’s done talking.

Circling around the counter and sitting on the other side of him, you offer a smile before passing an olive to him. He takes it gratefully.

Peter, apparently done eating, bounces out of his chair and hops on top of the counter in front of you. He immediately starts talking a mile a minute.

“Okay, this might be a weird question and you can totally say no, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything, I’m just really curious, but can I see your powers? It’s just, Ned- that’s my best friend- has been asking about how they work since he’s really interested in the physics of them and I just never have an answer and I feel bad-”

To stop him from losing his breath, you hold out your hand, summoning a small ball of light. You’ve been trying to keep your powers to a minimum here. You know better than most how destructive they can be, and the last thing you want to do is wreck the compound.

But a small, floating ball of light won’t do any damage. Strangely, it’s not even hot. The teen pokes at it, alarmed when his hand passes right through.

“Wait, if you can make solid objects with it, why is this…?” With a flick of your wrist, you feel the light change.

“It’s almost like changing the density,” you explain. “You probably understand it better than I ever will. I just know that it works.” When Peter touches the light again, it’s solid. You toss it, watching as it dissipates in the air.

He’s amazed, gaping for a few seconds before gathering himself, thanking you, and hurrying off to call his friend back. You lift up your hand again, allowing the light to flow and wisp-like smoke. Peter’s reaction makes you feel a bit better about your powers. He wasn’t scared, just curious.

“I told you,” Bucky quips. “Your powers aren’t something to be disgusted by.”

Huffing, you point to his left arm. “Then neither is that,” you counter.

“No, this is different.” The metal plates shift and rearrange with his movements. Steve watches, mesmerized by them. As horrible as its origin was, the intricate design of the prosthetic was something beautiful.

He says so, but Bucky shakes his head. You frown.

“Maybe if it wasn’t in so much pain all the time, you’d be able to feel a bit better about it. Just let me soothe the nerves, even just for a little bit,” you plead. Lowering your voice, you cut off his racing thoughts. “You don’t deserve to be in pain.”

Bucky considers your words. He shrugs, but doesn’t refuse. He watches you smile, quite literally lighting up the room.

Steve chuckles as the lights flicker, grabbing your empty plates and tossing them in the sink.

“I was thinking we could head into Brooklyn,” he suggests. “Our museum is open, so I figured we could stop by there and look through.”

He thinks for a moment, then nods to you. “Maybe you’ll finally open that lockbox and let the world in on whatever’s inside.”

The world? You know he means the news, the people that read about you. But those letters in there are for him and Bucky only.

To be fair, they are your whole world.

———————————————————————

People weren’t as invasive and nosy when they were wandering around your museum, you find. They seem more respectful as you wander the exhibits, trying to piece together your past.

The memories have been coming easier, but they still feel so distant. Like dreams, or a lingering sense of deja vu.

There are dozens of pictures lining the walls, descriptions neatly written below them. The three of you talking around a campfire, Steve and Bucky at the fair, a younger you proudly holding up a 1st place trophy, front teeth missing and a tiny bow clenched in your fist.

You trace your hands over them, mesmerized by how happy you look. You look lighter, softer. Not bearing a literal weight on your shoulders and eyes that always seem a bit sad.

Steve walks up behind you, following your wistful gaze as you soak up each photo and try to place it in your memories.

“Hey,” he says. You smile, so warm and so familiar that Steve’s knees almost buckle. “You like the museum?”

“It’s great,” you say, following the pictures around to a replica of your shared apartment. “Helps with the memories.” The couch catches your eye. With a bit of focus, some moments in time push through the fog.

Lazy nights when you three were too tired to move, instead piling on the couch and sleeping there. Camping out there when Steve was sick and you gave him the bed. Bucky coming home that day that started the end of it all.

Slowly, not wanting to overstep, Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders, carefully navigating past your wings. You lean into his touch, sniffling a bit when Bucky joins you two, also staring at the battered couch.

One particular memory comes to mind. And you begin to hum.

You can’t remember the exact words, but you try your best as you begin to sway.

“It’s been a long, long time… Haven’t felt like this, my dear, since can’t remember when…”

Dancing. You three spent more money than you could afford on records for your little apartment, and after Sunday dinner it was your tradition to try and teach Steve to dance.

What you’re doing now is little more than shifting your weight. But it means the world to you and your boys. It means that you’re remembering. Bucky joins in humming, making his way through the refrain before trailing off.

“You said you’ve got a record player, didn’t you, Stevie?” he asks. Steve nods and begins talking about some of the older records he has when a particular glass case catches your eye.

Your lockbox. Behind the 4-inch bulletproof glass, the small box sits with its key placed beside it. You crouch to read the description.

‘In the final days before her disappearance, Agent (Y/N) (L/N) wrote what is estimated to be around a dozen letters and stored them in this box. While other letters she wrote were left out, no one knows what lies within the small cherry-wood box. Out of respect, it remains locked to this day.’

A picture of you sits beside the paragraph. Bow slung over your shoulder and dressed in your uniform, you stand tall and proud. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in the glass, you immediately shake your head to dissipate the lingering thoughts.

A woman steps up beside you. From the way she’s dressed and the keys in her pocket, you figure she works the museum. Your guess is confirmed when she gestures to the box.

“We were wondering when you’d stop by,” she says. “Anything here of yours that you want, just ask. We’re here to help in any way we can.” You smile gratefully, thanking her before glancing back at the box.

“Could I…?” The woman nods and wordlessly unlocks the case. She lifts your box with all the care in the world, handing it to you and wishing you well before whisking off.

Steve and Bucky catch up to you, spotting the box.

“They let you take it?” The former asks.

Holding it up, you grin. “Yeah. Guess they missed their timeframe on finding out what’s inside.”

“Will you tell us?” Bucky leans in, gently elbowing you.

Even thinking about the letters makes you blush. In your grief the days after their “deaths”, you’d poured every thought onto paper. The openness that you know lies on the pages sends embarrassment creeping under your skin.

“Maybe,” you finally say, tucking the box under your arm and stowing the key in your pocket. They both shrug, not pushing further, and move on to the next exhibit.

It’s an hour later when you leave, avoiding reporters and paparazzi as you clutch the lockbox close to your body. Making it back to the compound and into your room is much easier, though you still haven’t opened the box.

Steve and Bucky ran down to the kitchen to bug Sam, and in the meantime, you’ve been staring at it. The key is in your hand, the box is on your bed.

Since you’ve gotten home, you’ve showered, changed into pajamas, checked the news, and watched an episode of new show that caught your eye.

But you’re scared. You’ve already felt… that feeling lately. You fear that, if you open the box and reread the letters inside, it’ll only be intensified.

A part of HYDRA’s process was breaking you down into a weapon. To them, you weren’t a person capable of giving or receiving such an emotion. They made you believe it. That you were only good for their missions.

If you open the box, you aren’t sure if you can handle keeping a secret like that from your boys. You aren’t sure if you could handle telling them, either.

They’re all you have left. Losing them through your own actions would destroy you.

Still, you grip the key in your hand, steel your nerves, and unlock the box.

Gently opening it, you blow away the dust coating the old paper before carefully lifting the stack of letters and setting them on your bed. You grab one, unfolding it and hyping yourself up before reading the first words.

‘Dear Steve Rogers and James Barnes,

This is the fourth letter I’ve written. Without either of you, there isn’t much else to do except think and write. And I’ve been doing a lot of both. There are plenty of things I wish I’d told you, but before everything else, I wish that I had told you I love you. Yes, still. And while I can’t tell you when it started, a part of me feels like it’s always been there. Like a fact of life I’ve lived with ever since that day on the playground.

I don’t think telling you would’ve changed how things went. Maybe you two would’ve been more careful if we’d had more to lose. But I’m so tired of entertaining what-if questions, so I’ll deal with that thought down for another time.

Missing you feels like too weak of a word to describe what I feel. You’ve been perhaps the only permanent thing in my life. Everything else changes too fast for me to keep up. School, work, whatever else people worry about now. But you were my constant. The one thing I could rely on. Even if the sun didn’t rise one day, I always thought you’d be there. And now I’m alone.

Steve, you were always so full of energy. Even when sick, you’d always have something to say or a new drawing to work on. I never admitted it, but I loved watching you draw. You had a real talent there. Seeing you become Captain America was the best and worst thing, I think. Knowing that you were healthy, even better than me and Buck, was a weight lifted. But the world doesn’t know you. They aren’t mourning you, they’re mourning their symbol. I can’t forgive them for that.

Bucky, the day you were drafted has always stayed in my mind. You were scared for the first time I can remember, shaking on our couch that I can’t go back to. I can’t go back to that apartment alone. I'll always remember the late nights in the kitchen, when Steve would go to bed early and you’d tell me all about some new scientific discovery or invention that you’d read about. The world doesn’t talk about that part of you.

I can hear Peggy and the other Commandos talking. They’re worried about me, I think. I can’t blame them. I sleep more than I ever have, write, and take dinner in my tent. Colonel Phillips hasn’t said anything yet.

The world is moving on without us. I may not be dead, but I think after losing you, I’m not completely alive.’

Sniffling, you wipe your eyes and fold the letter back up, setting it in the box along with the others. You remember bits and pieces of the time after they “died”, and true to the letter, you’d spiraled in the remaining weeks before you’d caved.

A knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call. With your feet dangling off the bed, you don’t need to sit up to know the two sets of footsteps.

The sun hangs low in the sky, and even at the end of the day the compound bustles with agents and doctors. You yawn, stretching your muscles. You’ve found that your energy levels tend to rise and fall with the sun.

Even though it’s early, Steve and Bucky are more than willing to turn in for the night. A lazy night in is far more appealing than watching more news on the Avengers and the Accords, and dinner could be ordered in without much fuss.

“Are you done for the day?” the blond asks, sitting beside you. Bucky moves the throw pillows from the bed, tossing them around the room with no regards to where they land.

You shrug. “I want to go help clean up after dinner, don’t wanna leave Wanda to do it on her own.”

“Wanda can move things with her mind, I think she’ll be okay with doing the dishes for one night.” Scooping you up while Bucky throws the covers back, he unceremoniously dumps you onto the plush bed as you shriek.

Reaching over to grab a pillow, you swat at him, only to receive a pillow to the face from the brunet behind you. Before it devolves into a full-on pillow war, you raise your hands in truce, laying down to catch your breath.

Your boys follow suit, laying down with you. You tuck your wings in, wrapping them around yourself on both sides like the fluffiest blanket you’ve ever touched.

“This is nice,” Bucky mumbles into the blankets. You nod, closing your eyes to avoid facing just how close they are. Normally you wouldn’t mind. But you blush easily, and something like that would raise questions.

You listen as Steve calls in a pizza, followed by another call of him asking Vision to pick it up, seeing as he was the fastest one in the compound. Poking at a stray feather, you blink hazily in the golden light.

The food arrives minutes later, and you finish the pizza just as the sun starts to graze the treeline. Steve and Bucky get ready for bed as you turn on the TV and collect some more blankets, only increasing the growing pile on the bed. The cold doesn’t bring good memories to any of you.

Once you finish, you lightly pat the bed, gesturing for Bucky to sit.

“You said you’d let me work your shoulder,” you remind him, tone stern. Steve helps you, tugging your friend in front of you. He sits in front of him, making sure he doesn’t try to start another pillow fight.

“You don’t have to do this,” Bucky says to both of you. Your responses are the same.

“I know.”

You can feel the warmth of your healing radiating from your hand. “You ready?” you ask. Steve takes his hands, calming him as he takes deep breaths. He nods.

You’ve seen the x-rays. The sketches of the metal arm and exactly how it’s designed. It’s a medical nightmare, put simply.

A titanium limb far outweighed a normal arm, meaning Bucky walked with a tilt, which led to back pain and a constant soreness in his neck muscles. In an attempt to support the heavy prosthetic, HYDRA had poorly grafted the metal onto the surrounding bones, covering parts of his clavicle and sternum.

All of this combined puts him in a world of pain. And now that he’s finally letting you work on it, you wonder how he didn’t break sooner.

The pain radiates from where the metal attaches, searing across his back and up the left side of his head. His muscles are knotted and tense, struggling to receive input from the destroyed nerves.

Bucky’s wincing as you work, trying his best not to shout in pain and relief as your powers mend his invisible wounds. Steve notices, and in an attempt to distract him, taps your lockbox.

“So, you ever gonna tell us what’s in this?” Since he’s facing you, he gets a perfect view of how you turn two shades pinker, fumbling and accidentally brightening the nearby lamp.

You cough, shrugging. “Maybe.” Your tone suddenly becomes a bit sad. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

“Ready for…?” Bucky asks.

“Ready for you two to know.” That’s all you say, focusing on soothing the nerves in his neck.

Both Steve's and Bucky’s minds jump to the same thing.

Steve’s known exactly what he’s felt for you two ever since middle school, when he asked his ma if he could be in love with two people at once. Sarah had smiled knowingly, nodded, and watched his little mind run and slowly take in what that meant.

But he never said anything. Bucky started going on dates and you turned your focus on studying, and he’d never found the perfect moment like all his books talked about. No screaming confessions in the rain or dramatic dances at a fancy party. He thought he might find that moment as Captain America, but constant missions made that a bit hard.

All he has is this room, Bucky’s hands in his, and your eyes occasionally meeting his own.

Bucky didn’t realize his feelings until he was taken by HYDRA for the first time. He’d always enjoyed dating around, more for the experience of learning about someone than anything else. Settling with one person when everyone was so different seemed so boring and bland. And then he almost died.

During his capture, he had a lot of time to think. And the only people he could ever see living with for the rest of his life were you two. Sure, it was unorthodox, but so was everything you three did together. Damn all tradition to hell, he swore that, if he got out of that place alive, he’d tell you both. But that never happened. Instead, he got 70 years as a puppet.

All he has is this room, Steve whispering nonsense to calm him down, and your gentle hands mending every source of pain you can find.

“There. All done.” Sitting back, you flick your hands, sending stray tendrils of light flying away.

The sun has long since disappeared, and you can spot a few stars from the window. Going to bed early won’t change the fact that none of you will sleep well. Nightmares always come for at least one of you.

Tonight, you take the middle. Laying on your stomach, Bucky and Steve slide in on both sides as you rest your wings atop them.

For a while, you sit in silence.

Steve breaks it.

“The thing you aren’t ready to tell us, whatever it is, you know we’ll always be here, right?” he asks. You nod immediately. You never doubted that. Not once. You’re scared of how things will change, though.

“I know. Not like you’d ever let us get away,” you laugh.

Bucky hums, content and almost floaty due to the lack of pain. “You’d chase us to the bottom of the ocean, wouldn’t you, punk?”

“Jerk,” Steve huffs, tugging up one of the many blankets.

Eyes fluttering shut, you manage a “Dumbasses” before you slip into sleep.

Making sure you’re not awake, Bucky glances at Steve.

“So, we both know what those letters say?” He knows you well enough that he’s confident in his suspicions.

Steve hesitates, but agrees. “Yeah. A pretty good guess, at least.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“She’s not the only one.”

“Yeah. But we’ll wait.”

“We’ll wait.”

[merrhea39]

binging everything judgment day pt3

Raw 6/6/22 Cody’s tits exploded. Man Finn had to join Judgment Day in that shithole town called green bay that sucks. When Finn says “finally i see clearly” it sounds like shit directly from an irish glasses ad. 

Bliss vs Doudrop vs Morgan vs Ripley. Rhea Ripley fucks up her face. Brace face Rhea incoming. Brace face riptides Niven to win and fight Belair at MITB (which never happens because of her teeth and a brain injury. She doesn’t have another match until october of 22) 

Raw 6/13/22 kevin patrick interviews bianca and rhea interrupts. A nice segment with Judgment Day, also Rhea roasts kansas lmao. Hi braceface hehe. Masochist Rhea? And I love it when she talks all calmly like a cultist it’s hot. That’s all judgment day does on this show as the main event is *checks notes* a pose-down between austin theory and bobby lashley? WTF? WHO THE FUCK CARES?

Main event 6/20/22 mysterios(w) vs judgment day. MY BIRTHDAY!! Wow judment day has come a long way. Rey mysterio being on the main event is fucking wild. Damian and Finn DO NOT have an entrance down yet lol. DOM IS SO TINY. Damian finally gets his new pants. Why the fuck does the main event have ad breaks? Finn and Damian just beat the shit out of Dom. Aja looking cunty af. Its called a dq even tho this shit happens in every match. Where Mami? I’m more confused at the end than anything. 

Raw 6/20/22 Bianca announces rhea is not medically cleared to fight her at MITB and thats all folks.

Raw 6/27/22 i accidentally thought there was nothing judgment day here but i was wrong priest balor and the mysterious have a backstage confrontation. THE IDEA HAS BEEN PLANTED REY IS A BAD FATHER LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Raw 7/4/22 mysterios(w) vs judgment day. July 4th I sure hope don’t I don’t see a ton of america propaganda. Pre-match promo from rey and dom. SUPRISE ATTACK. Damian and Finn ‘pearl harbor’ dom and rey before the match. It was a raw match, nothing special but Rey does an eddie and gets the win via dq.

Damian and Finn beat up rey and dom dom after the match I bet this won’t last for nearly 3 months.

7/11/22 Rey vs. Finn(w). suit daddy Damian is back we are so up. Finn saying “you’re a bad father” with his accent is so fucking funny “YOU’RE A BAD FODDER!” lmao. Rey took a nasty fuckin bump in this match holy shit. Finn wins and they try to manipulate Dom again.

7/18/22 Damian(w) vs. Rey. match starts during a commercial break wtf is that. mysterios wearing my high school colors lol. Damian wins fairly clean and Rey takes the razors edge nasty as fuck god damn. Dom gets bitched around by Damian and Finn… dirty thoughts are all I know.

Damian and Finn say Dom failed ‘the test’ and that he should’ve used a chair to hit his dad.

Ok so I was skipping to Dom and Rey’s reaction to what Damian and Finn said and byron was talking to corey about when he beat him for the 24/7 title and Corey said “that’s why I drink.” LMAO I WOULD TOO. Anywho the Mysterios cut a pretty basic promo. 

Raw 7/25/22 mysterio start out with a promo on the 20 years that he’s had in wwe.

Mysterios(w) vs. Judgment day. WILL YOU STOP STARTING MATCHES IN THE COMMERCIAL BREAK WTF VINCE. Balor hit the nastiest clothesline of all time on Rey lmao. Mysterios win but not really cleanly.

Mysterios celebrate… but who gives a fuck because PAPI RHEA IS IN THIS BITCH! And ofc she’s beating up Dom. Finn with the line of all time “IT’S NOT YOUR ANNIVERSARY IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!”. Rey gets tabled… (come tooesday).

SummerSlam 7/30/22 Mysterios(w) vs. Judgment Day. (Rey’s personal sponsors are why this match happened.) PAPI! Rey with the fucking beer mask lmaoooooooooo. Some people started a ‘we want tables’ chant to which the rest of the stadium responded with a ‘shut the fuck up’ chant. RHEA HURTS DOM AGAIN (rhea hurting dom counter: 2) Edge did not need all of that for a comeback. And the Mysterios still without a clean win over judgment day.