#bubbles is politely asking for a fucking bREAK PLEASE

[agcntbubbles]

Steals his gum.

He chews thoughtfully once, twice, and then he's popping his own piece of gum loudly. He reigns the pale pink substance back in, flicks both brows upwards. ❝ -—See, I had time between MY assassin training to learn to use my words. You know, ask for things. Like a normal person. We don't get many shots at normalcy but common decency is typically an easy one to manage... ❞ he looks her up and down and pointedly drags a wrapper from his pocket.

He turns to spit the gum into it and wads it up, flicks it to the nearest trash can. ❝ If you're into the thrill of stealing, I hate to burst your bubble...but I would have forked a piece over to begin with. ❞

Bubbles was, apparently, chatty. He wasn't exactly a one-word wonder like some in the field were, but he hardly was the sort to stand and chat it up. He had things to do, places to be.

❝ Tell me you're on your way to your guy and he isn't HERE, here because I'm kind of super over having to fight for marks lately. You'd think there's a shortage of people that other people want dead or something with how competitive it's been lately. Pain in my ass...❞

[pennylanewrites]

[love in the dark] levi ackerman x f!reader

cw + what to expect: angsty levi thinking he’s not good enough for you, self deprecation, talks of a family and kids, nudity (not sexual), brief mentions of battle scars, swearing, jealousy, alcohol consumption, eventual comfort

levi hated everything he loved about you. you were so loud and talkative and bubbly. always smiling, despite the chaos around you. always caring and laughing and mumbling made-up melodies.

he hated that other people loved those parts of you too. he hated the way erwin would light up when you entered the room, that he somehow found ways to spend more time than needed with you, that hange would tease him playfully about his crush on you, a simple cadet.

but what he hated the most was that he couldn’t speak. he couldn’t kick the living shit out of erwin and punch hange’s stupid face, scream how much he loves you.

because you were a cadet. levi was a captain. it was so inappropriate, him breaking every possible rule and code of honour to be with you.

today was a very bad day. many scouts had lost their lives in an expedition to capture two titans for research. the remaining ones needed an uplift, erwin thought. and now squad leaders, captains, scouts and the fucking commander were sitting in a circle drinking wine.

you couldn’t handle your alcohol. levi was the first person to introduce you to wine, and then whiskey. that was also the first time levi felt old. how young were you that you had never tasted alcohol before?

he smiled to himself at the memory, but the smile faltered when he looked up to see erwin helping you to a couch. you gracefully thanked your commander, slightly embarrassed at how dizzy you were. petra, your friend, looked between you and the commander, giving you a suggestive wiggle of the brows. that didn’t go unnoticed by your captain, whose hand slipped as he poured wine in petra’s glass, turning her white pants a pale hue of red.

something snapped inside of levi as he drank glass after glass of sweet red wine. erwin had so much to offer to you. money, a home, a family. you were listening intently as erwin explained the rules of a card game to you, peering over his shoulder as you sat on the couch and he on the floor.

don’t let your head fall on his shoulder. don’t let your-

a gasp came from levi’s left. of course it was fucking hange.

“i must be boring you.” erwin chuckled when he realised you were falling asleep. “i’ll take you to your dorm.” levi reached the couch with two big steps, protectively standing between you and erwin as you got up.

“i’ll take her.” he was throwing daggers at erwin with his gray eyes, and erwin was surprisingly returning the gaze.

“you don’t have to, captain. take your rest today.” erwin was not giving it up. he gave levi a pleading look, as if saying let me have this, friend.

you’re not my fucking friend, replied levi.

“she’s my soldier, erwin.” you pulled on levi’s jacket, after making sure no one saw. a silent please stop. “lead the way, cadet. you can walk, i assume.” he was cold. more than usual, barely letting you say your good nights to the room.

was he mad at you? you weren’t the one making advances, it was erwin. you didn’t know how to politely turn your commander down, nor did the alcohol running through your veins allow you to.

“your room is that way, is it not?” levi stopped sharply, making you hit his back.

“levi,” when had you ever slept in your room the last two years? “are you mad at me?”

he sighed and turned around, still alert for any guards, or even worse, erwin and hange showing up.

“you’re drunk.” was all he said before walking again, signaling for you to follow. he was silent the rest of the way, silent as he stepped out of his clothes, silent as he grabbed a towel.

“can we take a bath together?” you asked hopefully. deep down you had a feeling he would turn you down. levi was always sour after failed expeditions.

“i want to go to sleep tonight, you take too damn long in the bath.” he was right, but the way he said it made it sound like he was accusing you of being a serial killer.

“okay. you go then, i showered before.” you smiled softly and started taking your clothes off to lay on the clean linen sheets.

levi thought about tonight over and over as he sat in the hot water. he didn’t mean to snap at you, or be so mean. he was pushing you away and into erwin’s arms.

erwin could give you the world. levi could not.

and you deserved the damn world.

he couldn’t help but smile when he saw you taking up the entirety of the bed, stark naked, like you always did.

he loved everything about your body. every curve, every dip, every beauty mark. he loved the healed pink scars on your legs and back, he loved kissing them and caressing them every time you cried that they were ghastly.

he hated what he was about to do.

“don’t you dare.” your voice was quavering. you didn’t dare look away from the ceiling.

“dare what?” levi put his boxers on and tried pushing you to the wall so he could lie down. why are you crying?

“do what you’re about to do, levi.” you moved so he could sit next to you and you both rested your backs on the cold wall.

“if you know what i’m about to do, you also know why.”

“oh, eyebrows is flirting with my girlfriend. time to ruin a perfectly fine two-year relationship.” you were mocking him. he was almost mad at you, but you were trying so hard not to cry.

“that’s not it.” he muttered. god, he hated talking about these things. “i can’t…”

i can’t give you enough.

“can’t what, levi? can’t love me anymore?”

“i can’t be what you need.” he sighed and turned away. why the fuck were his eyes burning and watering now?

“what are you talking about?”

“do you want kids, y/n?”

you let out a surprised laugh.

“levi-”

“do you?”

“well, yeah. not for like, ten years, but sure.”

“there you have it.”

“what, are you impotent or something?” you tried making light of the situation, because truly, you had no idea how to approach this. so you resorted to humour, hoping levi would snap out of it too.

“no, i’m just not cut out for that family crap.” he was standing up and walking around the room now, and he was making you dizzy. “erwin is, though. erwin wants a family and three children, did you know?”

you did know. you still shook your head no.

“and he has money to raise them. hell, he has a house in the countryside, and servants.”

“well, good for him. i hope he finds a wife soon.”

“are you fucking stupid, y/n?” you hated when he talked like that. “you’re 22 years old, god damn it!”

“so?”

“other women your age are already married and have a second kid on the way. not wasting their days away fighting titans, risking their lives!”

“i didn’t join the scouts to find a husband, levi!” you were crying. god, he hated it so much. what was he even doing. levi regretted ever opening his mouth.

“don’t you understand, erwin is your way out! you’re wasting your time with me. your life.”

“levi…” now you finally understood. it wasn’t that he was jealous of erwin flirting with you. well, that too, but he was jealous of the life erwin was living. “levi, i love you.”

“y/n, i really don’t know what you’re doing with me.” he was sitting down on the edge of the bed, his back to you. you shifted on the bed, until your legs were around his and your cheek resting on his back.

“i know you don’t get it, but you’re giving me exactly what i need.”

“and what is that?”

your hand fell on top of his, and you intertwined your fingers before he could take it away.

“you give me life, levi. and that’s more than i could ask for. i know you’re scared that you’ll die, or i will, but that’s our purpose. i joined the scouts knowing the risks.”

“i just want you to live properly. peacefully.”

“so be my peace.” you whispered in his ear and got up, sitting down again on his lap. “and don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me.”

“i know i’m not, y/n.”

“i don’t care, then. i love you, i don’t want to lose this, ever. i don’t care that i’m too young, or at child-bearing age or whatever other stupid crap you’ll come up with.” he smiled softly at you, letting his forehead fall against yours.

“promise you won’t die, then?” you giggled and kissed the tip of his nose before replying.

“i promise.”

“i love you.”

“good. don’t ever do that shit again, levi.”

“don’t swear.” he muttered and guided you to lie down, still on top of him. you could feel your heartbeats turn to one as you lay in silence. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“that’s okay. just know i wouldn’t trade you for anything. for anyone.”

“really?” his arms tightened around you. a form of saying, me neither. you’re my everything.

“yeah, i like my men to have thin eyebrows.”

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Can you do Gotham!Victor Zsasz x reader where he gets jealous? And maybe it leads to smutty angry sex ;-)

‘YOU’RE MINE,

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; you’re his girl, only his.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor zsasz x female reader. obsessive and possessive behavior. victors dry humor (sort of?) persevering through his jealousy. SMUT !!!!!! like, i went heavy with this one guys. SADOMASOCHISTIC SEX! victor marks reader. also, drama queen victor.

♫ “whistling like a bullet in the sky / you don’t talk to no one, don’t you look at nothing / no ones gonna use you up and break you the way that I do.” You’re Mine by Phantogram

He typically doesn’t get like this. No, he trusts you. And even if he didn’t- he stalks you every damn day. Has your phone password. Crashes your apartment and searches your drawers. And when he’s not keeping an eye out for you- one of the zsaszettes is. Y’know, just in case, he always adds- whenever you come home to him fiddling around your apartment or browsing your phone.

In reality, because he keeps tabs on you is WHY he trusts you. And so far, nothing has been out of the ordinary. You’ve been his loyal soldier- his girl.

Well, until percisley 10 seconds ago. He was doing his daily…night watch? Lurking on top of buildings, with a loaded sniper, the stake-out usual, watching you converse with work friends. Just like you said you’d be. Normal tuesday.

He just has to be clear. It’s his motto, yeah? And thankfully, it came in clutch for him tonight. He’s reminded of why he does this so frequently when he spots you out in the parking lot of your work, when a man comes behind you.

He zones in through the scope of the sniper, immeadiatley aiming it at this guys head. He’s about to shoot this creep, until you laugh.

Why the hell are you laughing? (Victor thinks only he should be the funniest person you know.)

He’s watching carefully through the scope, vein popping through his forehead. All he can do is clench his jaw.

He notices everything. The way the man gestures towards you, the way you two converse like two old pals. It gets a bit too much for victor when the man gently grabs your shoulder while the two of you laugh.

Immeadiatley, you hear the sound of boots on gravel, and turn around to see Victor. You and said work friend damn near scream.

Your male friend is looking on in horror, it’s VICTOR FUCKING ZSASZ.

You on the other hand, after the inital shock wears off, give a polite smile to victor.

“Oh- hey.” You chime, but stop in your tracks when you read his expression. No smile. And his gloved hand is gripped tight around a handgun in it’s holster- itching to be set free. You swallow.

“Out.” Is all he says to your friend- and he looks at Victor incredously. You feel yourself start to sweat.

Victor looks at the man, eye practically twitching. The man stays frozen in shock.

“PLEASE?” Victor suddenly harshly calls- rolling his neck and cocking his head. His eyes are opened fully, and you feel fear bubbling up in you.

You’re friend instantly runs off, and you visibly see victor’s hand around his gun relax. He turns to you, taking a deep breath.

In a strange fashion, he offers you his arm like a gentleman, and doesn’t say another word the rest of the walk home. You don’t find out the reason for his anger until much, much later…

The moment you two came home, you assumed he’d want a bite to eat, talk about what was bothering him. But apperently not. The second the door closed, he was pushing everything on your counter top down to the floor with a loud slam, man-handling you, pushing you on top, and kissing you until you had to force him away for air.

He’s deadly silent, not explaining himself. You want to ask why- but the moment he pulls away from your lips, he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth- making you suck on the flesh. You gag as he forces them deeper and deeper, tasting the rubber of his gloves. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are soaked in your spit, and shoves them into your cunt.

You’re practically mewling around his fingers, taken aback.

And now… you’re here. Your face is buried into the pillows, ass-up. You’re soaking wet, working toward your fifth orgasm. The previous four had all just been from his trigger finger fucking you out until all you could do was scream his name. Tally marks have been all but littered into you’re thighs and chest and back- bloody and raw from his blade. Typically he’d only make one cut each time he claimed you like this- but appearently it’s not enough. People need to know who you love.

No, now his cock is buried deep inside you. Messily sliding in and out of your swollen pussy, generously giving you every inch to clench around. You need to know who owns you. That you two own each other.

He replays the image of your work friend staring at him in surprise. Victor’s practically tweaking out…why haven’t you told anyone that you two are together? God, he’d fuck you in front of the whole GCPD if he could. And here you are, keeping him like a dirty little secret.

“No one’s gonna love you,” He growls out, punctuating each sentence with a thrust. It’s the first thing he’s said all night.

“No one’s gonna touch you,” Between your moaning and his groans, it’s almost inaudible.

“No one’s gonna look at you the way that I do.” Thrust after thrust he emphasizes his point, fingers tracing over the tally marks on your back to make you moan in pain. He needs to consume all of you.

You’re gasping, whining for him to slow down- and he only goes harder. Sex without pain for Victor is like food without taste. Every part of you aches, and every part of you feels fucking euphoric. You know the marks will scar in the morning, no matter how delicately placed. You assume that’s his goal.

You two cum together in an instant- fast and unprecedented. The sudden shockwave takes you both by surprise, feeling your pussy squeeze against his dick makes him finish inside you- and you feel the ropes of his cum flood into you. He fucks you through your orgasm, movements not stopping until he’s sure he’s satisfied every single spasm within you, and you’ve milked him for all hes worth.

“There you go, sweetness,” He groans gently, hands weakly pulling your hips to his. He slows to a stop, but doesn’t pull out.

Between the numerous light cuts littering your body and bruises from how tight he was gripping your thighs, you don’t even have the energy to scold him. No, you collapse into the mattress, letting him shift down next to you, his cock still inside.

Oh, he intends to sleep like this, you warming his cock. He grabs you to his chest, not letting you go. You feel the marks on you back sting as he shuffles behind you.

You’re too fucked out to say a word, and he simply gently kisses your knuckles. Man of few words.

You think he’ll be gone in the morning. But no.

He intends to stay until you and your body can’t remember the feeling of anything or anyone else.

[dilly-oh]

Firsts

“Oh shit, Hatake, on your six,” Genma hisses in Kakashi’s ear, who has to smother the urge to snap the other man’s neck at the sudden intrusion of his personal space. “Check out the new cutie at the mission desk.”

Okay, maybe he can forgive him.

Kakashi glances over and lets out an unimpressed grunt. Sure, the guy’s got a nice face, but he’s a little mousy-looking with that scruffy ponytail and array of pens in his pocket. A new Chunin, obvious from the freshly-pressed flak jacket and lack of PTSD. Nice complexion, decent body. Scar’s a little sexy. Guy’s a solid B. Nothing to scream about.

“I’m gonna ask him out,” Genma says with grim determination. “Cover me.”

“Naw, you got this, champ,” Kakashi says, shoving their mission report into Genma’s hand and slithering out of the room. He’d rather not see Genma perform his mating ritual or whatever is the equivalent of making an ass of himself before the gawky Chunin stammers out a polite ‘no, thank you, Mr. Jounin, sir’.

Which is why he’s utterly flabbergasted when Genma goes sailing by overhead as he’s walking out the building. He looks up in bafflement to see the Chunin decisively slamming the second-story window shut and locking it for good measure.

“I think I’m in love,” Genma croaks from the dumpster.

Kakashi thinks he might be a little bit, too.

---

Kakashi has a mission report to turn in and no friends around to pawn it off on. If he waits one more day it’ll go from being fashionably late to downright obnoxious. And when he pokes his head into the Mission Office of course the Chunin is there on duty, straightening the line with nothing but a sharp glance and incurring silence with a single frown. Word had gotten around about Genma’s fate, as well as the fate of several unfortunate Jounin who’d tried to retaliate and instead found themselves also ‘dumpstered’, as the term had been coined. Now everyone knew not to cross him.

Resigned to his fate, Kakashi joins the line.

When it’s finally his turn, he takes a deep breath, drops the scroll on the desk, and spins on his heel to leave.

“Wait.”

Kakashi’s feet are rooted in place. His eyes snap to the window. How far away is the dumpster again? If he can get the trajectory right, he can use his own momentum to land on his feet and avoid-

“Hatake, right?” The Chunin glances up at him, smiles a little. “I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself to you yet. I’m Umino Iruka. Pleased to meet you.” He extends a hand. Kakashi stares at it like a hissing viper. Is this some kind of new move? Maybe he’ll snap Kakashi’s arm before tossing him out the window. Break a finger or two. “Oh, come on, I don’t bite.” Iruka laughs, a warm, bubbling sound. Against his better judgment (and years of ninja training), Kakashi slowly reaches out and shakes the other man’s hand. It’s just as warm as his laugh, calloused and strong. Kakashi’s gaze travels up the toned arm, past surprisingly broad shoulders to meet a pair of mischievous brown eyes. “Pleasure.” Iruka flashes him a devious smirk and winks.

Kakashi can kinda see what Genma was talking about.

And then Iruka looks down at the scroll and scowls.

“Is this your handwriting or did a chicken walk all over your paper? …And then shit on it?”

On second thought, fuck Genma.

---

Kakashi freezes in the tree outside Naruto’s place. A second chakra signature is inside the run-down apartment, oddly familiar. Kakashi peeks around the window, his suspicions confirmed: Iruka is inside, bustling around the small kitchen with Naruto in tow. He’s cooking for him. More than that, he’s actually attempting to teach Naruto how to do it.

The most Kakashi’s ever done is bring over some packets of instant Ramen and a couple fresh vegetables. Maybe put down a little newspaper and spray some Febreeze. That sort of shit. Nothing this…domestic. He’s a ninja, for god’s sake, not a nanny.

He sits outside in the tree, watching, for a long time.

---

“You know you could join us, next time,” Iruka says when Kakashi stops in to pick up his newest assignment from the mission desk. He stares back at him blankly, hand still outstretched. “For dinner,” Iruka clarifies after the silence becomes so painfully awkward Kakashi almost wishes a Missing-Nin would jump out of the garbage can and kill him. “Naruto would enjoy it. What’s your favorite meal?”

“…Miso soup,” he finally says, taking the scroll. “With eggplant.” Iruka nods and gives him that damn smirk again.

“Sounds like a date.”

Kakashi absolutely does not trip a little as he turns to leave.

---

The dinner (singular) turns into dinners (plural), with and without Naruto. Which is fine, seeing as Iruka is a font of amusing stories involving his rambunctious students, whose exploits are so absurdly idiotic that Kakashi is seriously concerned for the village’s next generation of ninja. Then again, he’s met Naruto, so he shouldn’t really be surprised.

They settle into a familiar rhythm, the two of them enjoying food or drinks a few nights a week, filled with stories, laughter, and a little harmless flirting. Nothing more.

Kakashi tells himself he’s content with this. It would be selfish to ask for more, especially when he has nothing to give in return. This is enough. He repeats that, again and again, until he almost believes it.

Until Iruka’s pulling him into a searing kiss.

Until he’s dragging him inside his apartment.

Until he’s holding him in his arms.

And then just like that, Kakashi’s perspective of Iruka has gone from safe and friendly to something terrifyingly close to love.

So Kakashi does what he always does when faced with feelings.

He avoids it like the fucking plague.

---

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Iruka stands in the doorway of Kakashi’s hospital room, glaring so furiously he can feel the heat even through the haze of painkillers. “You ghost me for a fucking MONTH and then have the gall to ask me to bring you fucking ICHA-ICHA while you’re on your fucking deathbed?!”

“…Gai’s out on a mission,” Kakashi rasps, his throat still sore from the feeding tube.

The resulting silence is filled with such murderous intent an ANBU pokes his head in the door to make sure everything is alright, spots Iruka, and gets the fuck out of there.

“You…” Iruka swells up, like he’s about to literally explode, angry words choking in his throat.

And then his face goes carefully blank. That scares Kakashi more than anything. Anger, he can deal with. It’s a familiar enemy, one he can beat. This cold resignation isn’t something he knows how to fight. Or at least recover from.

Without a word, Iruka drops the books on a chair and calmly walks out of the room.

Kakashi really can’t blame him.

He’d dump himself, too.

---

Months go by, and Kakashi heals. Physically, at least. He sees Iruka at the mission desk, but there’s no smiles or winks for him now, just a stiff “thank you, Jounin” before moving on to the next. He’d almost rather be dumpstered. He takes more missions, longer ones, just to get away, to try to forget. He’s had breakups before, but none of them ever hurt this bad. It almost feels like someone is stabbing him the chest, sliding a knife right between his ribs- no, wait, that’s the Missing-Nin who is doing literally that. Kakashi curses, rips them apart with a Chidori, and blacks out.

He wakes up to find Iruka sitting in the chair beside his hospital bed, Icha-Icha open on his lap.

“I wasn’t reading this,” Iruka says quickly. “I was reading it…to you. It doesn’t count.”

“…Did I miss any of the good bits?” Kakashi asks, his voice weak and scratchy.

“Kind of hard to when there aren’t any,” Iruka snorts back.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the beep of Kakashi’s machines and the drip of his IV.

“I miss you,” Iruka says quietly. It hurts more than getting stabbed, and that hurt like a bitch.

“…I miss you, too,” Kakashi replies, even softer. Iruka looks at him, and the anger is still there, but it’s anger FOR him, not AT him, which isn’t something he’s ever experienced before.

“Why did you run away? What could possibly make you attempt to go off and get yourself killed? What the fuck are you afraid of?”

“…You,” Kakashi says simply. Iruka blinks, gaping at him in disbelief.

“Of…what? Me? Why? Because you love me or something?”

“Yes,” Kakashi replies, because it’s true, and because he does.

“Oh my God, Kakashi…” Iruka heaves a weary sigh, covering his face with his hands, which is a shame, because Kakashi hasn’t seen it in a while. “Could you at least…act like a fucking grown man and talk to me? Instead of just avoiding the issue? Maybe, I don’t know, voice your concerns so I can help you through them? You might not realize this, but I care about you, asshole.” Iruka lowers his hands to glare at him, and there’s tears shining in the corners of his eyes. “Did you ever stop to consider that I might actually feel the same?”

He hadn’t, honestly. He’d been too busy running.

“…Do you?” he asks, voice shaking a little. Iruka gives him the most insultingly condescending look.

“Of course I fucking do.”

Kakashi has to force himself to stay calm, otherwise his heart monitor will go haywire and a nurse will come rushing in and fuck everything up.

“So…” Iruka goes on, “if you want this…if you want me…I need to know. None of your self-destructive bullshit. No running away. Just answer. Yes…or no.”

Kakashi swallows, his throat painfully dry. His chest aches, but he can’t tell if it’s from the stab wounds or his own anxiety. The fear is still there, but Iruka is, too.

And that gives him the courage to answer.

“…Yes,” he says in a hushed whisper.

Iruka sits there for a long moment, digesting that, then nods.

“…There room in there for two?” he asks, jerking his chin at the bed.

There isn’t, but damn if Kakashi’s going to say so.

---

“You know you don’t always have to wear that,” Iruka teases, running a hand through Kakashi’s hair.

“Of course I do,” Kakashi says, admiring the gleam off the golden band on his finger. “It’s a first for me.” Iruka snorts beside him on the bed and smacks him in the face with a pillow.

“And your last, dumbass.”

Kakashi wholeheartedly agrees.

-End-

(Written for KakaIru Valentine’s Week 2023, Day 1 Prompt: Firsts, hosted be @kakairu-rocks)

[novankenn]

"Jaune Gets A Gun AU" Somewhere in Vale...

Inspired by @howlingday's RU-JA-GUN-CON

Neo was walking along, merrily eating an ice cream cone, totally enjoying her free time away from "Fire Bitch" when she heard the sound of multiple trash cans being knocked about. Finishing her cone, Neo moved into the alley and hopped her way to take a seat on the nearest fire-escape...

She tilted her head to the side as she watched a rather unique looking young woman utterly trashing the rear of the alley...

After about 5 minutes, Neo growing board hoped down and approached the young woman, who had just finished demolishing her surroundings, only to realize the figure was talking to herself... out loud and answering herself back.

????: Calm down, Harley. You'll find him, even without that shitbag douche's help.

Neo paused in her approach, her sense of self-preservation kicking in. This Harley... was even a little more unhinged than Neo was. Correct that... FAR more.

Haley (Calm): Now, now, Harley... Mxy did warn you...

Harley (Angry): He's still a little shit douche!

Harley (Calm): Yes, yes... but we have work to do.

Harley (Angry): And HOW are we supposed to do that? We have no idea where we are... or where our Puddin' Mister J is!

Harley (Confused): Which Mister J are we talking about again? There are two of them, you know.

Harley (Calm): Easy... we find an information broker. Every world has a criminal element...

Harley (Confused): Like the short-stack over there?

Neo glared as Harley pointed in her direction with her baseball bat.

Harley (Angry): Short-stack looks like the strong silent type.

Harley (Happy): We can fix that...

Harley (Confused): Should we break her head of legs?

Harley (Calm): Focus, girls... focus. Obviously her legs... we need her to talk and tell us where to find Mister J.

Harley (Confused): Which MISTER J?!?

Harley (Calm): The hunky blonde that Mxy showed us! The one that will treat us the way we should...

Harley (Aroused): The one that will fill us with babies!

Neo decided this was an altercation she didn't want a part of. Normally people just knew to be afraid of her... but this Harley... she was wrong in the head. Seriously wrong in the head.

Harley: Ready short-stack?

Neo had so, so many questions going through her mind at this point. One, why she just didn't use her semblance to get away. Two, who the fuck was this woman. Three, where did she get the bubble gum from. Four, how messed up does someone have to be to talk to themselves like she was, and five, again where did the bubblegum come from.

Harley : I asked you a question. It's not polite to refuse to answer.

Neo nodded then shook her head and tried to sign, as she planned out her escape route.

Harley (Motherly): Harley! You're scarring her, and you're being rude. She obviously can't speak. Be nice!

Harley (Sad): Is that true?

Neo slowly nods, still trying to figure out why she just didn't use her semblance and escape.

Harley (Sad): I'm sorry. Do you think you could help me? I'm trying to find someone.

Neo just nodded, and Harley smiled.

(Just something a threw together... the idea popped into my head and I just couldn't resist. May or may not keep it as "Canon" for this AU... but until that is decided, please enjoy.)

[babyharleezy]

Stink Ima need a fic based of this with jack and reader please do what else u want with it cause I know You’ve got them creative ideas and shit 😉 love ya stink hope u like my prompt /idea let me know if ya like it

https://youtu.be/AlLnmrfvhb4

Paparazzi

(jack harlow x reader)

bloo's notes: okay im writing a lot of stuff and scheduling lots of fics but i wanted to get this one out tonight. enjoy babes!!

link

you and jack were in LA for an important party that was being held by lil nas. of course you were excited to go, it was an excuse to get all dolled up and you loved it. you wore your best outfit and jack wore an amazing suit. "hey babes, how do i look?" you asked your lover as you walked out of the bathroom of your hotel. his eyes trailed up to you, "wow baby you look stunning, i'm sure nas won't mind if we're a few hours late" jack said as he snaked his arms around you. "yeah nas for sure wouldn't mind but i would. let's go handsome" you told jack and he groaned.

thankfully you, jack and urban had made it to the party on time and you mingled with jack and his friends in the industry. you loved seeing him in his element. you were lucky that urban was there because it made you feel a lot more at ease. at least you knew someone other than jack at the party. urban definitely felt the same way about having you around. (bloo's notes: yes i had to write my bby urb in. bite me)

after a few hours of being at this party for a few hours and mingling with many people jack had decided he was tired. at some point you had separated from the boys and found yourself in a conversation with saweetie and megan thee stallion. jack and urban wandered around a bit and tried to find you. they both knew that you were in good hands with saweetie and meg that they didn't worry too much about you. as you were listening to what the beautiful women in front of you had to say, you were interrupted by a familiar voice. "sorry to interrupt you ladies but i was just here to see if y/n was ready to go, we do have a flight back home tomorrow" jack said politely. "oh yeah we should head to the hotel. it was nice getting to catch up with you two" you told the ladies and you all had said your goodbyes.

making your way outside the venue, hand and hand. the paparazzi was insane tonight. jack made sure that both you and urban were close behind him. you three always had a system when going out. jack in front, you in the middle, and urban behind you both. somehow the paparazzi had became too much and got in between you and jack, pushing you away which made you stumble back. you let out a little shriek, getting caught off guard. thankfully urban was behind and didn't let you fall to the ground. he made sure you were all right.

"hey! y'all need to calm down. y'all can't be pushin my girl around like that. i understand y'all are doing your job but i need y'all to calm the fuck down" jack yelled at the paparazzi. you finally made your way to jack and your hands made its way into his once again. as you got into the car you heard many people say "sorry y/n, sorry jack, sorry urban".

"you okay babe" jack asked the minute the three of you stepped into the black SUV. "yeah baby im good. urb made sure i didn't bust my ass" you laughed. "thank you urb for having her back, i fucking hate when they get all up in our personal bubble" jack sighed. the rest of the night the three of you decided to get ready for the flight back to Louisville. the night had already been crazy enough and the only thing on your mind was sleeping in bed, cuddling up next to your lover. you were grateful for urban for breaking your fall and you were grateful that jack was there to defend you and put the invasive paps in their place.

as you got into bed, jack was already lightly snorning, before you turned the light off you placed a light kiss to his temple and admired his sleeping figure. 'god he is gonna be the end of me' you thought to yourself.

[5millioncatipilars]

Tips for playing Overwatch, to dps and tank mains, from a support main

I’m in an overwatch mood tonight so I’m just gonna spam some thoughts before I go to bed.

As a support main, fuck you

Protect me if I’m getting targeted, I can’t heal you if I’m dead and I’m very squishy

I also can’t heal you if you’re halfway across the map, stay with the group. I don’t play Kiriko so I can’t just teleport to you and most support characters are slow af.

If you charge into the enemy team alone, I’m not following you. Don’t even ask for heals.

Supports’ main priority is to keep ourselves alive. I will leave my last teammate with low health to die if the enemy team starts to turn to me. Call it a tactical retreat.

Again, I can’t heal you if I’m dead.

Stop feeding the enemy team. Wait for at least one support before you go charging in so you don’t just die again.

I have to turn off game chat periodically bc if someone’s being an asshole to the supports in chat I will just stop healing them. Even if it means we loose. Be an asshole —> get no heals.

Sorjorn you do not need heals. Stop asking

Ash you do not need heals. Stop asking

Genji you are actively dying. Come back here and get some heals

Someone please remember the point of the game and go to the objective, I’m alone on here and the enemy team is on their way

Tank you do not need heals you still have half health I’m trying to make our dps with less than 10 health stop dying

Widow you can’t just stand in the middle of the road and snipe. Also if you’re getting shot at, you need to move positions, they obviously know where you are now.

Stop standing in Sorjorn’s ouch bubble. Please

Reaper I love you. You always shadow walk to me when you need heals

Hanzo that was real polite of you to just stand behind me until I noticed you but next time please ask for heals you are at 20 health and I did not know you were there

Reinheart I love you

Winston your bubble doesn’t make you immortal. If you jump into the enemy team and die, it’s not my fault. I tried

Doomfist you’re pretty squishy for a tank. Stop charging in without your heals

Roadhog if I’m actively healing you don’t use your health pack thing. Save it for when you need it

Why is Junkrat always dying? Like they’re always at critical health. What happened I healed you two seconds ago

Stop asking for heals right when there’s a break in the fight. I’ll top you up just gimme a sec to see who’s the most dying

If the support is doing more dps than you while also having more than 5000 heals you’re playing the game wrong

If the support switches from mainly heals to dps, you’re doing something wrong and they have taken on a “if you need something done right, do it yourself” attitude. Good luck finding health packs for the rest of the game

Don’t yell at me before you see the 11000 heals I’ve done. It’s not my fault you’re bad at the game

Don’t get mad in casual play. It’s just a game, we’re here to have fun. If you want to be sweaty and get mad about it, go play competitive mode

Stop dying. Just like, chill out.

Can someone come kill this dps that keeps flanking us and targeting our support? No? Ok.

Fyi: Baptiste’s lantern stops you from dying. If I put it down by you, stop moving. I’m gonna heal you, but you have to stay right here so you don’t die while I do it.

Fyi pt, 2: Baptiste’s ult amplifies healing and damage that goes through it. It’s like having Ana’s ult on the entire team of you use it right. Stop walking through it to charge into the enemy team. I can kill a tank at full health with a pocket healer on my own as a support character with that thing. It’s pretty op if you actually use it

Moira has very limited healing capabilities, so sorry if I’m not healing you right now, it’s recharging

As Anna, if you’re not getting any heals from me, one sec, I lost line of sight, I’m very slow, just give me a minute

Ana’s splash grenade stops the enemy from healing. Target whoever I just splashed

Lucio’s healing is passive. If you need heals, come find me

Stop running from me you fucking idiot I’m trying to keep you alive

Phara and Echo, pretty please with a cherry on top just land next to me for two seconds so I can heal you. You’re really hard to heal in the air, and for some characters impossible

Supports that heal other supports I love you. Come kill the flanking dps with me it’ll be fun

Support isn’t just there to heal you. That’s why it’s called support, not healing.

Goodnight 😌

[baladric]

with every year, i get more and more annoyed by people reducing behaviors or narratives to Good or Evil. like genuinely it's a "nice dichotomy idiot, now what lies outside it" situation, bc there's literally no such thing as true goodness or true evil. ofc there is cruelty in the usamerican economic and political systems; there is violence in healthcare, there is brutality in policing. but reducing any of those to a generalized moral black area does nothing but harm the act of organizing against them—because so much of the success of those movements is accomplished through the misinforming of regular people.

example: i get paid to sing in a church choir (thanks, music degree) and am surrounded on a weekly basis by white upper middle class cishet folks. this is an uncomfortable place for me, a gay trans man whose voice hasn't yet dropped, to be. because though i don't test the waters there to gauge political temperatures, i can guarantee there are trump supporters in the choir and in the congregation. i can guarantee some of them will be displeased by my soon-to-be-visible transition. i can guarantee they like the police, hate homeless people and addicts and have not done their reading on anti-blackness. but. but. they are ceaselessly kind to me. they love me, and they love my voice, and they all go out of their way to greet me and ask after my life and my aspirations. they have known me through eight years of change, and even if some of them get pissy once they can't ignore my transness anymore, i know that most of them will be in my court and continue to embrace me. and i know that my visibility will encourage them to interrogate some internalized prejudices. i know their extant care for me will raise the question well what if trans-affirming healthcare for kids isn't harmful?

are their voting records and financial contributions above reproach? fuck no. do i trust them with my loved ones? nope. does this mean they're incapable of kindness and love? no.

this allowance of growth is the goal of activism. this forgiveness of the layman for subscribing to condemnations or ignorance of things outside their experience is necessary and a definitional part of changing our broken world for the better. we can't unify unless we extend a hand to everyone—and i mean everyone.

the average human is never evil. the narratives you see in media are never evil, even when motivated by cruel oppressive systems (marvel's military propaganda, the continuance of the hp franchise), nor are the people who enjoy those properties. they're just people pawing around in the dark for a bit of joy, and you don't have to agree with them or their choices for recreation in order to give them the respect due every human being.

and on the flip side of that coin? no human or story is truly good, either. snowy-white goodness does not exist—not in your blorbo, not in your lover, not in your idols.

example: i was a very nice and bubbly little girl, because to be anything else was to admit to a sometimes-cruel, always-neglectful family and educational system that i was a breath away from breaking. and i couldn't do that—i had a disabled mother to take care of, a strict aunt to please, and an alcoholic depressive father who had declared me the only bright spot in his dark world. a father who, btw, killed himself after i cut him off because i couldn't keep carrying the weight of his expectations.

which of these do you think i'm struggling the most to recover from now, at the ripe age of 31? hint: it's not the unfair weight of caretaking as a 10 year-old, nor the snippy woman forcing me to remove my chipped nail polish in her car at 6am on a school morning.

the worst thing anyone has ever done to me was call me good. it meant that i could never, ever fuck up. i could never be sad or angry or anything less than enthusiastic and sweet. i could never say no to a food that made me actively sick (real thing that got me yelled at), or ask to leave an amusement park when i was in pain from walking and overheated and overstimulated (real thing that got me yelled at), or miss summer camp so much that i couldn't smile quite as big as expected (real thing that got me yelled at). i could never risk a perceived dimming of the light that people around me had set their sights on—because what if they got lost in the dark? what if they stopped loving me? what if my true inner misery meant i was a bad, weak, irredeemable, selfish person?

i am not good—an assertion i make in direct opposition to the slew of people who labelled me as such in the wake of my father, well into my adult years. in fact, now that i'm emancipating myself and choosing to only give myself to communicative and compassionate people, i'm learning that i'm kind of an angry little asshole—and i'm also kind now, on a deep level, because no one that loves me expects me to say the perfect thing every time, or to be any particular way when i speak to them, or to meet any single standard of success/purity/goodness. and this freedom to be a nuanced, dimensional human being means i have the energy to really care for other people and the world around me, because it's entirely my choice to do so.

kindness is not a moral cornerstone; it's a moment to moment choice. this took 31 years for me to understand, and let me tell you, it is still a struggle every fucking day.

i am not good. nobody is good. taylor swift is not good; taika waititi is not good; bernie sanders is not good. they are kind, and they are passionate, and they are intelligent and determined—and to mythologize them as unblemished beacons of goodness is to set them up for a fall they don't deserve. because everyone says or does the wrong thing sometimes. everyone has dark places and sour moods. everyone hurts other people—even vico ortiz, even your best friend, even you. even me.

no one is good. no story is good, and you only have to look at the history of steven universe discourse or the perceived quality drop between the adventure zone's balance and amnesty arcs—a disparity that griffin mcelroy has been honest about by admitting after the fact that he had been struggling as a creator beneath a concentrated lens of expectations born of a passionate fandom and a veritable mountain of accolades for balance. he had no room to play around, lest he risk mucking it up or making people angry. because balance was good, right? its messaging was good, right? the mcelroys are good, right?

and don't even get me started about travis mcelroy being cancelled for a public mental health breakdown!

"goodness" as a reinforced ideal is not only literally impossible in an imperfect world, it's just an oppositional reflection of punitive cultural mores. goodness requires evil as a contrast—and evil is a direct condemnation of those who don't meet societal purity standards, a framework that includes all those marginalized people we're trying to advocate for.

so please, for the love of yourself, if not also the love of every other human—what lies outside this dichotomy?

[eyelessfaces]

heartbreak

chapter one of πράγμα (prágma)

llewyn davis x reader

> next chapter

πράγμα (prágma): mature, realistic love. pragma is about making compromises to help the relationship work over time, and showing patience and tolerance.

summary: after a tough break up, you think you're finally able to get back on your feet after months of mopping around, but you lose balance when you cross paths with the man that broke your heart.

warnings: break up, depression, angst, sexual innuendos

tags: fem!reader, fluff from flashbacks otherwise it's purely angst for now

word count: 2.4k

hi I'm pretty nervous about posting this because this is my first multi chapters fic!! please tell me what you think about it or I'll cry omg

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

Winter 1966

If some people were confident about going on dates, that clearly wasn’t your case – regardless of how many times you had done it. There were always those questions of “Am I dressed well enough?”, “Should I lie about myself so he can like me?”, “Do I act like myself with the risk of scaring him off?” 

And no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t help but feel anxious each time.

It wasn’t your first date with Gareth; it wasn’t even about the dates. You were friends at first, you had met through your coworker that introduced you; the purpose expected was the same, but you liked the fact that Gareth learned to get to know you before immediately wanting to fuck you after the first date. And if his eventuality was to get in your pants, he was pretty slick about it, and carefully building his way to it, so you didn’t mind. And you couldn’t say that you didn’t want to get in his pants too.

Gareth was nice, polite, and respectful. He listened to you, and you felt like he genuinely enjoyed seeing you talk about the things you cared about in life.

But Gareth’s problem was that he was a little too nice. Every other guy that you went on dates with were lowkey jerks you quickly ended up fucking with; and then it was it, you never saw them again.

But you knew damn well that if you had fucked Gareth already, you two would be dating by now. Because his personality was the missing part of those other guys you couldn’t bring yourself to fall in love with.

You are pretty sure you don’t have feelings for Gareth yet, you are waiting for something to happen, and so desperately. You are waiting for it to come, you are waiting for the sparkle to finally blow, but you can’t help but think you’re broken.

You’re broken because Gareth is so obviously in love with you, and you can feel it by the weight of his gaze when he looks at you and thinks you don’t know he’s looking.

You’re broken because despite all his nice gestures towards you, you feel embarrassed when you should just feel flattered.

You’re broken because you don’t think you will ever be able to fall in love again after what happened two years ago.

You push the heavy door of the unknown bar-restaurant Gareth suggested; Gareth suggested this place because the quiche was apparently extraordinary, and you trusted his judgment because Gareth was one man to know how to cook.

You sigh, relieving the stress bubbling inside of you as you look through the tables in search of his figure. A band is playing on the wide stage, catching the attention of the regulars who are softly marking the beat with their feet. 

Your look pierces through the room and you finally catch Gareth waving in your direction. 

You greet him and you easily relax; you feel safe and confident around him, and all the stress suddenly wears off. 

You talk and talk and talk, the quiche is indeed delicious and so is the refined wine you picked after Gareth offered you to pay for the bill. 

Everything feels great and you feel so comfortable your brain can’t stop pushing you, waiting for the right moment to ask Gareth if he wants to come to your place after you’re done. 

Your look is focused on him as he watches and claps the artists as they leave the stage, and claps again for the next ones, and you can’t help the growing smirk from appearing on your face as you think about the things he’ll potentially do to you once you bring him back home.

Your chin is resting against the palm of your hand and you hide your smirk once Gareth turns back to you, but you know you failed when his eyes start glistening the way they do.

“What?” he asks with a similar smile, oblivious to why you’re making such a face.

“Nothing” you shrug before taking a sip of your wine. You put the glass down on the table and sigh as you’re about to ask him the damned question. “Listen Gareth” you continue, shifting in your seat as you look at his confused expression. “Do you-”

Then you stop and your heart skips a beat before you suddenly feel it pounding louder and faster in your ribcage, resonating inside of your brain, filling your ears. 

You freeze and you’re not sure if time is real anymore; you feel like your being is stuck in time and everything around you moves the way it’s supposed to, at the speed it’s supposed to, but you’re in the middle of it, stuck.

That voice, you could recognize it in millions, and apparently just in seconds.

And it is this way for a fact. That voice was the voice you used to come back from work to, the voice you used to fall asleep to, the voice that used to dedicate songs to you. 

You hadn’t heard that voice in what – months, years even? And it somewhat pierced right through you the same way it did when you last heard it.

You can hear Gareth talking; but at the same time you can’t. It’s like you’re underwater, his voice is muffled and you can’t decipher what he’s telling you. You’re not sure you want to hear him; your ears are focused on something else, something that made you lose balance and something that you’re sure will ruin your night.

You’re scared to look at the stage; as if if you look, it will become real, when you know damn well that it is and that the man on stage is the same man that broke your heart two years ago.

But when you turn to look at the man, you can’t recognize him, at least for a few seconds.

When you look at him it feels different than what you had expected; maybe because he looks different.

The face you used to know and adore is now clean shaven, making him look so much younger somehow even if you haven’t seen him in years – and he looks so much more innocent and vulnerable like that.

Something sinks in your stomach and you apologize to Gareth before leaving to go to the bathroom, cutting him off as he’s asking you what’s wrong and why you suddenly stopped talking.

You slalom through the tables and join the bathroom where you’re finally alone with your reflection in the mirror.

It had taken you so long to get over Llewyn.

Llewyn had shattered you; so badly. And if you blamed him at first it wasn’t the case anymore. 

The situation was complicated and you understood now that it was probably the best solution for the both of you, as complicated as it was to admit.

You had been pulled by the classic “it’s not you it’s me” break up situation. 

Llewyn thought he didn’t deserve you, because you brought the money home while he was struggling with his job, so he felt bad about it. You knew Llewyn’s occupation was particular, but you thought you would be able to handle it, because you loved him and you were willing to do anything to be by his side. 

So you got a second job to pay the rent fully but the situation slowly ruined your life, mental health, and relationships. 

You were coming home late, and when you did, Llewyn wasn’t here. He was at gigs that barely brought you money, and when he came back from them, you were already asleep, exhausted from your day. 

When he woke up you were already gone to work, and it was it over and over again each day.

You barely even saw each other anymore, and when he did you seemed so sad, so tired and looked so unhappy he could feel his heart ache just from looking at your state. He felt so powerless about it he decided that the best solution was to ‘free’ you from this life, this burden, so you could finally be happy again. He thought the best solution was to tell you that he had fallen out of love for you and he hoped that it would allow you to stay away from him and finally live normally. At least… that’s only what he thought would happen.

You’re completely heartbroken and you have so much trouble forgetting him.

Before meeting Llewyn, you would have never thought you could love someone that hard. But here you are, crying about him at work, under the shower, in bed.

It takes you a while to chase your feelings away. You refuse to get your life back, and you work even more in order to not think about that heartbreak and over the seven word sentence resonating in your brain. 

“I don’t think I love you anymore”

You come home half asleep, and even as tired as you are, you can’t sleep. When you finally can, you feel even more tired once you wake up. You don’t even have people around you anymore, having cut every connection with anyone related to Llewyn. This is a never ending cycle of loneliness, tiredness and gloominess.

This life slowly breaks you and thankfully your family notices it as you never call anymore, and they push you to finally go to the doctor, and as expected the doctor tells you you’re under a lot of pressure and you should get some rest or your health will quickly decline.

You couldn’t say you didn’t know that, but you knew you had to break the loop in order to get better even if you didn’t want to.

You give up on your second job, and you can feel you’re slowly starting to get better.

You still can’t forget Llewyn, but one day you look at yourself in the mirror and notice how pathetic you look because of one man that doesn’t give a shit about you anymore, and you finally get your shit together and decide to start seeing other men. 

You’re not sure you ever got over Llewyn, the two years apart from him were just two years of trying.

You sigh and wash your face with water, trying to ground yourself.

This is gonna be fine, you will just go back to Gareth and ask him to go home with you. Easy, right? Easy.

Spring 1962

It’s a nice afternoon in Greenwich Village. The sun is coming back, the snow finally melted and the flowers are slowly beginning to bloom again.

You hum softly as a ray of sunshine nicely warms your cheeks. 

You put your book down on your lap, and carefully stare at Llewyn. He looks so focused but so confused at the same time, and you giggle at the silly expression on his face. His look darts from his book to you and he raises his eyebrows.

“What’s so funny, huh?” he asks, raising his chin at you, running a hand along your leg laying over his lap.

“You don’t get anything about this book do you” you chuckle, already knowing the answer.

He pinches his lips and puts his book down on the stand beside your couch.

He sighs. “Fuck no I don’t, I wanted to be nice and take interest in Mitch‘s lectures but everything’s just so confusing” he winces placing his elbow against the armsrest of the couch, putting his head in the palm of his hand.

“That’s fine, I think you’ll still be invited at the next Gorfeins’ dinners even if you tell Mitch you don’t get anything about what he teaches” you say smiling at him.

He smiles back at you and your gaze shifts to look out the window. 

Birds are chirping, the sun is shining and you can see it’s a calm breeze out there as the leaves of the trees are softly swinging.

“We should go out, the weather's so nice” you sigh softly.

“No”

Your head turns back to him and you frown.

“Why?” you question, brows knitted.

“You look so much nicer than the weather” he declares grinning, his fingers tracing over your leg.

“What does that change? I’ll still be with you” you say frowning again, and he tuts.

“You don’t get it do you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows as you stare at him confused. “If we stay here I can have you all to myself” he grins, gently squeezing your thigh. 

“Oh I see” you coo, putting your book down on the floor before moving your legs away from his lap and sitting on your knees next to him.

“Yeah?” he asks looking up at you teasingly, putting a hand to your cheek, stroking there.

“Yeah” you whisper before pulling him in for a kiss, and you gasp against his mouth as he bends and lays you down on the couch.

You smile as his mouth trails down to your neck, shoulder and collarbone, and shiver as his cold, calloused hands slip under your tshirt.

“Love you” he mumbles against your skin between kisses. “So much” he says before putting all of his weight down on you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I started and I don’t think I will ever stop” he sighs, laying the side of his face against your chest.

“You better not” you chuckle cupping his jawline and stroking his beard with your thumb.

“I won’t” he promises before closing his eyes, comfortable.

You smile and play with his hair, wrapping the curls around your fingers, delighted at the peaceful situation. 

You smile as you hear soft snores escaping his mouth and it’s now your turn to close your eyes.

Today

You sigh as you brush back the hair falling over your face.

This is gonna be fine, you will just go back to Gareth and apologize before telling him you don’t feel good and need to go back home. Easy, right? Easy. He’ll understand, he’ll be nice about it, and you’ll have another nice date another day.

You had left him hanging there for almost ten minutes and it was pretty impolite from you, you needed to go back to him anyways. You yourself wouldn’t be too happy if your date suddenly left without an explanation.

You look down and smooth your shirt and look back at your reflection to give yourself an encouraging smile in the mirror before finally deciding to leave the bathroom, a semblance of confidence rushing through your veins. You leave the tiled room and turn to your feet when a voice resonates in the narrow corridor. 

“So that’s really you”

You sigh softly as your eyes meet his heavy gaze, and you can feel your stomach turn.

Time moves and so do people, but somehow feelings don’t.

—

To be continued...

> next chapter

Small clarification: the story takes place in winter 1966; they started dating in 1961 and they stayed together until 1964.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

feel free to ask me anything about my story, anon or not, I love talking about it and I'd be more than happy to answer your questions.

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl

[whataboutthefish]

Day 28

Prompt 28 Grooming* | Cloning & Selfcest | Tentacles

Netflix characters/Game characters, Selfcest, Implied Selfest

Words 951

Vortex swirling, puffs of smoke and one hellish ride that felt akin to having your insides sucked out then stuffed back inside you through your asshole, and suddenly they were standing in a place somewhat familiar and yet new. The sounds of swords being drawn all around chimed through the air, only cut off by a deep voice. 

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be? Shit, Geralt is that another you?” 

Face to face with their counterparts it was only a matter of moments before mayhem descended upon them. 

Pocketing a silver spoon off the table, Geralt takes in the white haired man standing opposite him. With a strong jaw and ridiculous butt chin, the man’s clearly another version of himself, and Geralt wonders how Ciri messed up the spell this badly. The other Geralt’s attention is elsewhere, though, and Geralt follows his gaze to where it lands on Dandelion’s ass. Strangely, Geralt’s not mad, especially when he sees the person that’s drawn Dandelion’s attention.

Ignoring the chaos breaking out around them, Dandelion saunters over to a man dressed in outlandish clothes that can only be his own copy. The other bard is stammering about cats and stoves, but Geralt isn’t listening. He can’t seem to tear his eyes from those plump lips and the tease of auburn hair peeking out the top of the other bard’s shirt. Seeing Dandelion shamelessly flirting with the bard, Geralt turns back to his own counterpart, noticing the way his nostrils flare. It’s clear they both scent Dandelion’s lust, and, with a nod, each Geralt sprints into action, swooping upon their own bard. Geralt tosses his Dandelion over his shoulder as other Geralt does the same, and together they run from the room.

~~~~

Eskel has corralled a scrawny looking witcher with a foul tongue into the corner, his whores hanging off him. Maintaining his composure, Eskel politely asks the women for a moment alone with the witcher, a supposed copy of himself, if the scars are anything to go by. Swaying where he stands, the other copy is spitting misogynist crap which Eskel finds wholly distasteful. 

“Was it you that brought these women to Kaer Morhen?” Eskel asks, a low growl in his voice.  The pitiful excuse of a witcher who happens to bear his own name only scoffs, which makes Eskel’s anger bubble. “It’s a secret keep for fucks sake,” he shouts, “Don’t you have the homoerotic subtext here?”

More than anything Eskel is offended. This runt would never have made it through the trials, and Eskel  has an intense urge to punch himself in the gut. The runt swings first, though, and Eskel catches the fist easily, twisting and bringing them back to chest. 

Breathing in, Eskel is surprised to find his scent is familiar, but that is where the similarities end between them. His counterpart is twisting like a feral cat in his hold, and yet there is the slightest hitch of his breath. The salty hint of arousal reaches Eskel’s nose. 

Eskel growls, deep and rumbling and the runt stills, baring his neck in submission. Burying his nose in the runt’s neck, Eskel considers for a moment if there isn’t hope for this one. Nipping  at his neck, Eskel runs a hand over the runt’s chest, catching a nipple with his thumb as he hums.

“You think you know how to please a woman? Let’s see how you go with a witcher.” 

~~~~~

Lambert can hear the jokes already. He had to get the redhead, his flaming hair curly to boot. It looks like the witcher’s never known a comb, let alone a jar of grease. They circle each other, snarling, teeth bared, each with a knife in hand, ready for the other to make the first move. 

It’s a sharp whistle that breaks their standoff, both of them reacting immediately. Turning towards Vesemir, (and suddenly Lambert doesn’t care about red hair because there are two Vesemirs), they eye each other off for a long, tense moment. Lambert’s pretty sure he’s on board with this, but he sure as shit won’t be the first to fold. 

Another whistle comes, and this time it’s accompanied by the clicking of fingers. Both Vesemir’s are pointing to the ground in front of them. With this command, Lambert moves without question, his counterpart his mirror image as they both drop to their knees in front of the oldest wolves. 

~~~~~

Vesemir took a long, hard look at the old man before him, nodded once and accepted the beer that was handed to him. They’d been watching as everything unfolded around them, wholly unsurprised. It was only when the Lamberts were about to make a mess and get blood everywhere that they realised how similar they actually were. 

Vesemir smiles when the twin Lamberts kneel with perfect form in front of them. Looking to the old witcher with a wry smile, he says, “Would you like to take a ride on my pup?” 

~~~~~~

Later that night, once Ciri has assured them she can return them to their own universe, the two groups share a drink and some food. The tensions have diminished and Ciri can’t help but crinkle her nose at the scent of sex in the air. 

Ale in hand, Dandelion takes a seat next to Jaskier’s Geralt, who’s back in his armour, because apparently copy Geralt doesn’t know the meaning of comfort, or fashion. Gesturing to the well fitting armour sculpted to the witchers ample chest, Dandelion glances over to his counterpart with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” he gestures to Geralt and specifically his armour.

Jaskier looks wounded, his hand clutching at imaginary pearls and replies, “Absolutely not!” 

[the-mortifying-ordeal-of]

It's mortifying to ask

It's my oldest pattern, running. Freezing, panicking, running, hiding, but then always peeking through my fingers, tilting my face up to the sun chasing warmth, wanting to be pursued, needing comfort. I want to be worth chasing - follow me into the dark, crouch in the corner with me, wrap me in your arms, rock me and soothe me and ask me what's wrong. I want a fierce grip, an intense love, two palms on my face seeking eye contact, holding space. I want to fall apart, feral and writhing and fighting but held.

I tossed and turned in her bed, fighting the destruction bubbling up in my throat. My limbs twitched, the smallest of sounds escaping, my breath too tight; I tried deep breaths, retention, heavy sighs. I lunged up out of her duvet and planted myself upside down in downdog, letting the blood rush to my head and feeling the ache in my shoulders as my palms cramped desperately into her pillow top. She squeezed my forearm and I wanted to rake my fingernails down flesh - I pressed crescents into my chest, holding my heartbeat in place, trying to tamp down my terror with tight pressure. I stumbled out of bed for Benadryl, still craving the Valium she'd jokingly offered, craving salt and crunch and comfort - wanting to run, play, exhaust the burning anxiety overflowing in my veins. Her dog was snoring, the heat was suffocating, I wanted to fight and scream and binge and numb and die. "I'm the problem, I'm the problem, I'm the problem" burrowing toxic and barbed into my brain. I just wanted relief, and she kept her distance. I asked if she'd be sad if I left, and she said she would, but I could do whatever I needed to do. I needed her - I needed to be pinned to the mattress, gripped tightly, teeth in flesh and warm words against my ear. I needed a violent love, louder than my fear; fuck me harder than I hate myself. Pursue me, chase me, hold me in place, draw me out. Make a mess with me. I want to chant the intrusive thoughts, bleed out the insecurity, throw open the doors to all my secret hiding places. But first you have to knock, beat your fists against the door so I know you mean it, won't politely leave when it takes me a moment to free the deadbolts, padlocks, bars and and jams and clutter blocking the entryway. Need me like you mean it, like you want me, like you know it's worth the fight.

She always lets me go. Peacefully recedes into silence, boundaried and quiet and patient. I want fury, I want righteous capacity, I want to be torn out of my comfort zone and sheltered on your island. Give me refuge, grab my arm and tear me out of the street so fiercely that you leave bruises - save me from myself, take control, help me.

I cannot believe I drove home. So doped up, starving and frantic and scared. I played my music loud, kept the windows down, didn't let my eyes rest in one spot too long, but I know I could have died. Could have easily crashed from the fluttering adrenaline, overcorrected into a ditch, slipped across the center line into the lure of a stranger's headlights. I was numb and dissociated and weak. She let me go.

It's mortifying to ask: please chase me. Please fight me. Please shake me and hold me and tear it out of me. Please ask me what's wrong, ask again when I deflect, ask again when I lapse into silence, ask again and again and again. Tell me what you want, what you think, what you see. Don't let me go. Fight me, fight for me, stay. I need a firm hand, a grip on my jaw, fingers laced into my hair, fingerprints wrapped around my arm. Find me. Hold me still. See me through.

It is infuriating to fall apart in front of therapeutic boundaries, inhuman patience, selfless equanimity. Use my color system, take chances, check in, talk to me, fall apart with me. I wanted connection and instead I was frozen and alone and mortified, just wanted to break, wanted to make a mess, and felt acutely like a ticking bomb and she had gone to her bunker without me.

Maybe she's confused because I've told her that initiating sex has scared me in the past, so she's waiting for me to speak up and initiate hard conversations and ask for what I need. Maybe she thinks I'll talk when I'm ready, I'll reach for comfort when I need it, and that leaving is sometimes what I actually need. I don't know how to calmly convey how much a dying person never truly wants to be alone. Don't be afraid of me, don't step away, don't turn away, don't let me go.

She asked for time together but didn't start a single hard conversation besides asking how I was, and when I deflected, we sat in silence. So much silence. I wanted to hang up and fall apart. Why would I invite her into my darkest corners when she looks around, hums noncommittally, and thanks me for inviting her? Why would I open myself up to her when her idea of soothing is to tell me a funny story? Why can't she see me? Can she not see what she hasn't experienced? Does she not understand that "I'm sorry you feel that way" isn't soothing? Don't tell me you love me, don't tell me I'm good, don't thank me or tell me you trust me or say some neutral, accepting shit. I'm feral and messy and dying - I don't want a passive witness. I want a partner. I want someone to pull me out or be in it with me - don't just watch. This isn't a show.

I'm so tired. Dizzy and unfocused and confused. I have therapy in an hour and I don't know what to say: I wanted sex, I wanted to be fucked up and free and dissolve into her, I wanted to make a mess and play and be real. Instead I got false, polite nonsense and a chasm of loneliness.

How do I want to be received when I'm panicking? I know I want intense sensation, the freedom to rant and sob and scream, I want aftercare and soft touches and whole body comfort. I want grounding and reminders and reinforcement and a truth bigger than my fear. I felt obligated to get my shit together, to soothe myself, to communicate what I needed when I was disintegrated - but haven't we talked about this before? Haven't I asked her to ask me? Maybe she could have taken me for a drive, or a walk, or to get comfort food, or she could have pressed ice into my palms or hugged me tightly or fucking anything but lie motionless in bed beside me in the most tense thick silence I've ever felt, intermittently squeezing my forearm in a way that might as well have been a pat on the head.

Ugh I'm tired.

[aajjks]

he doesn’t mess around when it comes to you alina 🫢

choice!JK

its been a week since he’s last seen you. after filing a missing person’s report, staying in contact with the authorities, and checking your location it’s safe to say you have officially disappeared without a trace. he’s unsure as to why but he knows you leave without telling someone. he wonders if you’re okay, are you and minho safe? it’s hard for him to sleep when his mind is occupied with your wellbeing and minho’s. taehyung just hopes that you’re okay..

“don’t worry” he says while staring at his lock screen picture that shows you, him, and minho having fun at the beach. “i’ll find you soon”

~

mrs. min is unsure if you finally getting out of bed and making your way to the bathtub is ‘progress.’ it’s the most movement she’s seen you do all day but you still look robotic; apathetic and the food is still sitting on the nightstand where she placed it. you’ve yet to touch even a crumb on the plate full of food and you’ve yet to acknowledge mrs. min too. you aren’t even you anymore and mrs. min isn’t sure how to ‘fix’ you.

but finally, after hours of being ignored mrs. min hears your soft voice from in the bathroom. despite your tone being calm, you sound emotional. “mrs. min? can i bathe alone, please? i promise won’t do anything bad. i just…i’d like to be alone”

your polite request almost has mrs. min in consideration but then she remembers jungkook’s orders, keep an eye on you even while you’re in the bathroom.

“i’m sorry, dear but i can’t do that. how about i stay in the bedroom and watch you from afar?” offers mrs. min but this time you don’t respond. you head to the bathroom and fill the tub with your favorite aromatherapy scents and soak yourself in the warm water.

the bathroom is quiet and all that can be heard are the suds popping in the bathwater and your steady breathing. unfortunately, the moment of tranquility is ruined by jungkook who enters your bedroom who frantically asks mrs. min to tell him where you’ve gone. when she points to the bathroom, jungkook instantly rushes in to make sure you’re okay and when he sees that you’re sitting in the bathtub he’s relieved that you’re okay but he’s still pisses that you haven’t ate since he left.

He’s really glad to see you all safe in the bathroom but you still look really depressed and his drunk mind isn’t in the best state right now.

“she hasn’t eaten has she?” he doesn’t acknowledge you, but asks Mrs Min about you, and she slowly shakes her head, and he feels anger bubbling up inside him once again. “Yn what the fuck is wrong with you? Do you think that starving yourself will help you? You can’t leave. No matter what.” he rolls his eyes.

 he’s staring at your body which is inside the bathtub and you’re not even uncomfortable that he’s right here in the bathroom while you’re naked so he asks for Mrs Min to leave.

“Yn… I don’t think you have any right to be angry at me right after you fucking left me without an explanation- do you miss your boyfriend is it? He’s the reason you left me in the first place.” Jungkook stalks closer to you. With a haze of jealousy, and anger in his eyes.

“do you want me to bring him here too so you will eat?” He taunts, he cannot help but laugh, because you probably never loved him enough to starve yourself because of him, and it breaks his heart.

Why could you have never loved him the way he loved you.

“Okay yn… please I am begging you to eat- I’ll do anything if you eat, just eat.” he begs you, sitting right beside you. He is staring at you, but you have tilted your head and you’re staring right out of the tinted window.

You wont even look at him now.

You’re literally killing him and you don’t care.

[leslie-lyman]

Waterproof

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Summary: Watched The Bubble. Had a thought. That thought was: I wanna edge Dieter Bravo until he cries and ruins that silly eyeliner.

Rating: 🚨 E for explicit, folks. NO MINORS.

Warnings: edging, obvs; unprotected PIV; dom!reader and sub!Dieter; Dieter Bravo being soft and respectful and having puppy dog eyes that are impossible to resist

Word count: 1.3k

a/n: Yeah I dunno what happened here, either. I intended for this to be a drabble to get this idea out of my head and practice writing some smut, and it ended up being over a thousand words. None of us is immune from this man, it seems. Not beta’d, barely edited. The gif above is an edging joke.

Masterlist.

———

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

It’s so direct that it catches you off guard.

There’s something in the way he says it, too. There’s no arrogance in his tone. He isn’t smug or suave like you’d expect. He’s a movie star. He’s an Oscar winner. He’s Dieter Bravo, for fuck’s sake. But instead of a smirk and a smoothly delivered pickup line, he’s looking at you over the bar top of the fancy estate chosen to house the cast of ”Cliff Beats 6” with huge brown eyes that are full of hope, not expectation.

It’s a simple enough question.

It’s also a bad idea. You’re hotel staff. He’s the fifth-billed actor on the sixth installment of the 23rd biggest action series of all time.

But he asked so politely. There’s an open earnestness on his face that tells you he doesn’t want you to say no, but he’d respect it if you did. And it all makes you suspect that this man, with his broad shoulders and large hands and soft eyes, may enjoy the same kinds of things you do. That he may make a rather complimentary bed partner. You decide to test your theory.

“That depends, Dieter.” You rest your elbows on the bar top and lean closer to him like you’re about to share a secret. “Would you be a good boy and do exactly what I say?”

His eyes go black. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

It’s a simple enough question. He gives you a simple answer.

“Yes ma’am.”

———

You don’t get to cum until I say you do, Deiter, is that clear?

Crystal.

You got a safeword?

Academy.

Jesus Christ.

You push him down into a fancy armchair covered in embroidered silk in the corner of his suite, a set of rooms that probably costs more per night than you make in a month.

Dieter still has his makeup on from today’s shoot, a not-terribly-subtle dark smudge under each eye, and it enhances the eager puppy look he has going on, almost like he cannot believe his luck. You clamber into his lap and feel him already starting to harden through his sweatpants. An experimental grind of your hips draws a little moan from his throat so you do it again, and again, the soft friction against your clit and the increasing size of his erection making your core start to throb with arousal.

“Please,” he murmurs, “I want - can I - ”

You run your thumb over his bottom lip, stilling your movements.

“Easy, sweet boy. What is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

That is not what you were expecting him to say. Surprises at every turn, this man. You’ve watched him interact with his co-stars, watched him saunter and swagger and stumble around in his bathrobe with his sunglasses and his tumblers of whiskey like the world’s schlubbiest king, but then he asks permission to kiss you like it’s all he could possibly want in this world.

It’s a dizzying transfer of power, though you’re starting to suspect you would not actually be able to deny this man anything for long.

“You can,” you tell him. His face collapses into something like relief and he presses his lips to yours.

It’s so tender and reverent that for a moment you still completely, focused only on the feeling of him kissing you. He slides his hands up your sides and cradles you to him and it makes your insides melt a little.

Then he pulls you closer and shifts you down against his cock and you break away from him with a gasp. You frame his face with your palms. The patchy stubble of his facial hair scratches your skin and it is not unpleasant. Maybe later you’ll find out how it feels against your thighs. But for now…

“Pretty thing,” you coo at him. “Let’s have some fun.”

———

You’re not sure how much time passes after that. What you do know is that eventually the two of you end up naked in the chair, with evidence of your first orgasm coating Dieter’s fingers and your second dripping down his cock as you keep riding him.

But he hasn’t cum yet. Because you haven’t let him.

He’s getting close again. You can feel it in how his grip on your hips tightens and hear it in how his breathing becomes more ragged.

You let him creep closer and closer to his peak and then suddenly lift yourself off of him completely, reaching down between you to grasp the base of his cock tightly with your thumb and forefinger. His shaft is slippery and glistening with your slick.

Dieter squeezes his eyes shut with a despondent gasp as you deny him his orgasm again, the tears that have been threatening as you edge him finally spilling over, eyeliner smearing down his cheeks. How many times have you brought him to the brink and then pulled him back now? Four? Five?

“Ah ah ah, sweetheart, remember our rule. Do you have permission to cum yet?”

He shakes his head.

“No.” It’s a small, pathetic sound.

“No, what?”

His cock twitches in your hold.

“No ma’am.”

His shoulders are covered with a thin sheen of sweat. A drop of it rolls down his neck and pools in his clavicle. You dip your head down and lick off of him, the salt of it spreading across your tongue.

“That’s right. But then, you’ve been so good for me, baby boy. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Dieter buries his face in between your tits and groans, nodding his head frantically at the prospect, muffled little cries of please, please, please whimpered into your chest.

You gently nudge his head up until he’s looking at you, then maneuver his cock until he’s just catching at your entrance.

“Then go ahead, baby. Take what you need. Cum for me.”

He makes a wordless sound of relief and instantly wraps one arm around your back, reaching up to grasp your opposite shoulder from behind and pull you down onto his cock. He snaps his hips up into with renewed fervor and oh that feels good. You’d nearly forgotten that for all this man’s hatred of exercise seems to equal his love of booze and drugs he could still easily overpower you if he wished it. All you can do is cling to his neck and trickle more praise into his ear.

That’s it, good boy, let me feel you cum. You know it’s gonna feel so good, baby, just let me have it -

His grip on you tightens as he cums with a long, loud moan that tapers off into a little sob, grinding his cock into you so deeply you’re sure you’ll feel him for days.

His shoulders heave as he tries to catch his breath, and you push his sweat-soaked hair back from his forehead. He looks utterly wrecked as he slumps back in the chair, worn out and sated. Your combined release starts to trickle out of you and you’re sure it’s going to stain the expensive fabric of the chair, but you can’t be bothered to give a damn.

You swipe a thumb tenderly over his cheek, wiping away the wet tracks that streak down his face, the pad of your digit coming away covered in the charcoal-colored mess of his eyeliner.

He chuckles weakly.

“Next time I’ll have to ask the makeup girls to use something waterproof, huh?”

You pull one final whimper from him as you clench around his softening length in response, but when he looks up at you again it’s with the same glimmer of hope in his eye from when he first propositioned you.

You can practically taste the wickedness dripping from your teeth as you grin at him.

“Don’t you dare.”

———————————————————————

Dieter isn’t even an option on my taglist so lemme just tag a few moots who might be interested: @whataperfectwasteoftime @ezrasbirdie @oonajaeadira @jazzelsaur @radiowallet @green-socks @iamskyereads @the-ginger-hedge-witch @magpie-to-the-morning

[ressjeon]

movie date(s): jeon jungkook

genre(s): pragma; ludus

row and seat(s): row 2; seat 7

menu order(s): soda; nachos; hot dog

my first ever drabble request to ANY author! i’m so excited and happy that you are doing this <3

pairing: tearista!jungkook x cashier!reader

summary: you don’t know what his reasons are for pestering you on a daily basis but you sure know why you continue to tolerate him, even when you’re near your limit.

rating: 18+

genre/au: smut, angst?, fluff, bubble tea shop, coworkers, enemies to lovers

word count: 2.9k

warnings/content: sexual tension, nipple play, dick slapping ig, food play?

a/n: it’s an honour to be the first author that you ever requested a drabble to and thank you! i’m glad that you’re excited & happy, enjoy the film!

☞ part of @btsgoldnetwork’s two hearts, one love valentine’s day event  🎞💓

🍿 bangtan theatre presents: annoying

🍿 if you would like to order, please purchase your movie tickets and snacks here!

THIS WILL BE RE-WRITTEN AS A ONESHOT

If you didn't have to work part-time because of your decreasing budget, you never would’ve worked here in the first place.

You watch him at the cash register, smiling at the customers who are mostly women and you know that it’s his way of flirting to gain more tips. The bubble tea shop has been earning more customers and new regulars now that Jungkook started working here. You know why but you don’t say anything because your manager’s loving the booming of his boba business.

Though both you and Jungkook applied for the same position, somehow you get assigned to the cashier part more than him and that annoyed you because you love making drinks than talking to customers. Now you're currently fuming because he just made you finish the drink that he started so he could take over your task for today.

.

“is he on shift?”

“is who?” you didn't mean to sound rude but it’s the same girl that's been coming here for weeks now so you obviously know who she’s talking about.

“sorry i’m not sure who you are referring to?” you try again with your customer service voice in case she actually complains to your manager about your attitude.

“the cute barista” the girl fusses and you almost breathe out fire then and there but before you can even reply, you hear Jungkook’s saccharine voice from behind you make your jaw clench.

“hi, can i take your order?”

“jeon, what the-”

“y/n, would you kindly finish the drink i started? its customer is waiting already” the fake polite smile he’s giving you made you smile curtly back at him before taking a deep breath and pretending that he just didn’t take over without giving you a chance to protest.

Customer where? You’ve been yelling the order number and waiting for a while until the customer finally showed up to take it. You look up to the clock to see how much time you have left until your break because you need a damn drink to clear your head.

You're used to girls flocking him since you were in elementary and yet seeing it affects you till this day. He's not at fault since it's just you who have these stupid feelings for him and that’s what irked you more.

How you’re still somehow hoping that he’ll like you back even when he’s never looked at you like how you do at him.

.

You’re refilling the powders in the jars since it's usually the first task that you do after clocking in when you just noticed the change of the shop’s interior. 

“how is it?” a whisper comes beside you and you almost scream of surprise.

“did you fucking add these designs on the wall?”

Your eyebrows are scrunched together while reading the letter bulb lights that says “don’t yell at me” on the wall in front of you.

“you like it?”

“does it look like i LIKE it?”

“well you yell at me all the time and our manager asked me to redesign some stuff, i’m just doing my job” he replies, his hand quoting in the air that pissed you off even more.

“YOU’RE SO FUCKING ANNOYING” you turn to hit him but the motherfucker backs away too fast and proceeds to re-arrange the chairs and tables.

Of course, your manager would let him whatever the fuck he wants. It's obvious that Jungkook's your manager’s favourite employee that's why you do your best to take as many shifts as you can, volunteering to cover other shifts before Jungkook can since the manager always gives him more hours.

And he always competes to get extra shifts for no reason.

You wonder if it’s just his nature or he just does it to piss you off. When you saw him during the interview, you were nervous because you really thought that you wouldn’t get hired with Jungkook as your rival for the position. Thankfully, the manager hired both of you but that doesn’t mean that you can’t compete for any promotion that Jungkook might want.

“i love you though, what are you gonna do about it”

His voice broke you out of your trance and your eyes widen at what he just said. How did he find out?

“funny”

“i know you never take me seriously but do you wanna go out later after your shift?” he scratches the back of his head as he nears the counter, looking anywhere but you while he refills the straws. You don’t even know why he’s here helping you when today’s his day off so he must be serious..

“wait, you deadass like me?”

“well, you're my cup of tea so?”

You fight the snort that’s coming out from your mouth and instead give him an endearing smile because of how adorable he looks right now. That line might be cheesy but it did make your heart flutter.

“try again jeon” you tease as you scrunch your nose at him, shaking your head playfully when you see his face getting red from embarrassment.

“that line always works!” he protests and you can see the slight panic in his eyes since you haven’t answered him yet.

“whatever Kook see you at 3” you reply as you turn away to make more drinks.

Jungkook's shocked that you said yes because he didn't think that you would especially after the embarrassing corny line that he just said. It's the only reason why he came here early, help you a bit so you’d be in a good mood when it’s time for him to ask you out.

.

To say you're nervous is an understatement. You could've gone straight to the date after your shift but after looking up the place that Jungkook sent, you want to look good even if dressing fancy isn’t needed. He asked you out after all though you still can’t believe that he did so you’re going to make sure that you’re more than ready for this date.

He arrived at the same time as you and something inside you warm at how you're both always syncs with each other even outside work. The both of you enter the bistro and settle on your seats while waiting for the server to take your orders. It's a bit awkward since none of you has said anything so far, just smiling curtly at each other when your eyes meet and you’re getting antsy.

“okay so-”

“this isn’t going to-”

“to what?”

Jungkook asks you and you’re not sure what to respond. You were going to respond but the server just arrived and you immediately ordered quite a lot because you were very hungry since you didn’t eat lunch yet after your shift. Jungkook was surprised as well though he’s planning to pay for everything for this date, it’s cute to see you not holding back on what you eat.

“you didn’t answer me by the way” he starts and you almost choked on your pasta with how Jungkook is looking at you.

“um..uh..” you clear your throat and grabbed the iced tea in front of you to calm you down but he really looks good with his outfit tonight. A dark denim jacket with a plain shirt underneath but of course since it’s Jungkook, it looks hot on him.

What happened next is something that you didn’t expect to happen,

You spilling your iced tea on Jungkook’s very white shirt. His body jerks at the cold liquid and he almost curses before he remembers that it was you who spilled this on him.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to” you whisper in regret but he just glares at you.

“you really hate me that much? you never should’ve said yes to this date” he huffs as he stands up to the counter to pay for the meal since he’s done anyway, leaving you frozen on your seat because you’re still processing what just happened.

Your mind’s formulating on the best way to apologize to Jungkook when your phone rings from the table. It’s your manager and you already know why he’s calling.

The bistro is a bit loud so you decide to put your phone on speaker and you immediately hear your manager asking you to cover the night shift for today because your other coworker can’t. You agreed of course since it’s more hours for you and also because of how disastrous this date is thanks to your clumsiness, you’d have a perfect excuse to escape.

“i paid already” you hear Jungkook mutter so you look up to see his hardened face.

“he called in, so uh”

“i’ll drop you off” he cuts you off and your eyes widen in surprise.

You want to complain and tell him to just go home so he can change but he’s already leaving the table so you had no other choice but to follow him. Jungkook approaches a motorbike that you haven’t seen before and you wonder if he newly bought this one. You didn’t ask of course especially when he silently hands you the extra helmet that he has before gesturing you to climb on. You wordlessly follow him and you were hesitating on where to hold until he grabs your arms to wrap around his waist.

His damn tiny and firm waist.

You immediately clutched on him as soon as he starts the engine, making you hug him fully and you feel him tense. You were about to loosen your hold on him until he gears the bike even more so you had no choice but to put your arms back around him.

Jungkook smells nice, you’re not sure if it’s the perfume or if it’s his natural sce-

“we’re here”

You see your manager coming out from the door as you’re coming off the bike and he comes to tell thank you before leaving for the day because apparently his wife just had an emergency at home. Jungkook smiles at your manager and he smiled even bigger after seeing him, probably thinking how polite Jungkook is for dropping you off.

Or because he thought that Jungkook will be working with you as well because he gives him a sign before he enters his car.

You expected Jungkook to leave right after but instead, he entered the shop with you and grabs the apron from one of the drawers. Before you can ask him, he takes off the jacket that he has and now you can see clearly the stain on his white shirt from the iced tea earlier. The guilt that was creeping out from you instantly vanished when he starts lifting up his shirt so you turn around immediately because damn, you just touched those abs earlier.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook actually notices your ogling at him earlier and he smirks a little at seeing you flustered. He wasn’t mad at you per se but he was just a little bit upset from what happened earlier. He’s not upset about you accidentally spilling a drink on him but more so with how you were acting around him. Was the date really that bad? He prepared a lot for this one but alas he already fucked up from the start it seems.

Confusion strikes you when he actually puts the apron on and starts gathering the ingredients from the working station to make a new drink. So he’s actually going to work despite his supposed day off, how very Jungkook of him.

He still hasn’t spoken to you and it’s been driving you crazy. You know he’s still mad but it would’ve been better if he just yells at you instead of giving you the silent treatment because you’re currently walking eggshells around him. He just gets out of your way when you want to do the drink that the customer asks and takes over the cash register without a word.

This is very strange so you need to talk to him after the closing shift.

.

You did not expect to say sorry this way.

At first, you tried cornering him when there weren't that many customers anymore but he never spared you a glance so you waited till closing, surely you both have to talk. You want to settle this now before your manager starts questioning what's going on between you and his favourite employee.

“Jungkook” you’re drinking your brown sugar milktea as you approach him and you’re hoping that he’ll finally talk to you now that the shop is closed. He has his back on you the whole time and when he turns around, you’re momentarily stunned with how he’s looking at you. He doesn’t look like he’s mad but his heated stares are warming up your cheeks that you stepped back a little.

You take a huge gulp of milktea to calm yourself down and almost choke on the boba when Jungkook comes forward and bends his head down to take a sip of your drink.

All while staring right through your eyes.

And you’ve had enough. You placed the drink on the top behind you before grabbing Jungkook’s face though you paused because of the sudden nerves that replaced your brief confidence.

He just laughs before leaning in to kiss you and you instantly melted around him. Jungkook’s hands are immediately roaming around your body before coming up on your shoulders to tug off the straps of your dress to pull it down along with your bra, revealing your breasts to his hungry eyes.

“knew you had a thing for me”

“shut up”

Jungkook’s kisses descend from your jaw to your neck, and you moan when you taste the brown sugar milktea on his mouth when he returns his lips to yours. His hands come up and start massaging your breasts before pinching your nipples. Jungkook beams at your reaction to his touches, he knows that it’s your favourite flavour because you always make one to drink during your break time. Sometimes, he makes drinks that he thinks you might like though when he found out that taro and matcha aren’t your faves, he pretends that some customer made the wrong order so you wouldn’t find out that he’s the one who paid for them.

“..Jeon..” you whine when his mouth leaves you and you raise your brows in confusion when you see a small bag of chocolate powder in his hands. You didn’t even notice how he managed to take it from the cabinets but maybe he already did earlier when you were busy cleaning up the tables because he stayed behind the counter and insisted on cleaning the workstations so you just opted on doing the rest.

Jungkook smirks at you before moving his head down to take each of your tits to his mouth, his tongue wrapping around your pebbled nipples, wetting them before grabbing the choco power bag and starting pouring its contents to your breasts.

His saliva on your tits allowed the powder to stick into your skin, making you look like a dessert for him. Jungkook’s thinking of teasing you further while he takes off his clothes, not forgetting to fish out the condom from his pocket. He tears the packet off at once before putting it on and starts stroking himself while he watches your hungry expression, the way you bite your lip as you eye his cock is making him even harder as he approaches you.

He’s excited with how your hands eagerly wrapped around his shoulders while he parts your thighs apart, positioning himself between your legs. The sight of your wet pussy because of him is making him want to abandon his plan on teasing you and just fuck you stupid.

“want me to ruin your pussy?”

You nod vigorously, your pleading eyes begging for him to do so and he smiles before lining himself up. Jungkook’s blown-out pupils stare right through yours and you can feel the head of his cock on your entrance but to your surprise, he doesn’t push in. A grin slowly forms on his gorgeous lips and you can see the mischief now in his eyes as he grabs his dick to slap it against your swollen clit.

Another moan comes out of you when Jungkook drops his head to take one of your tits back in his mouth, his eyes solely on you as he starts sucking them alternately that you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder anymore because fuck he’s damn good at this.

“y-you’re so fucking annoying..ahh” you whine when he continues to tease you, running the tip of his cock through your wet folds to coat it even more before he dips it in and pulls back out while he continues to suck on your tits. He does this for a while, finishing off the remaining crust of chocolate around your nipples before sucking them again and you’re gripping his hair hard to urge him to go all-in but he just smiles against your skin.

You yelp when Jungkook suddenly flips you around, bending you on the counter before placing himself behind you, chuckling at your shocked reaction.

“now y/n, let’s hear how you’ll say sorry hmm?”

e/n: don’t do funny business at your workplace or you’ll get fired ok. lordt this was a struggle lmao i almost forgot that you didn’t request eros so i had to delete some scenes bye i got carried away as always 😝

we kinda rusty here but i really might turn this into a oneshot 👀

feedback or donation (ko-fi) is greatly appreciated! thank you &lt;3

[lesbesapphic]

i can’t remember if you ever said this, but what was Wanda’s reaction to finding Natasha had a sugar baby? and did she know before dating natasha or after?

Heyy, it's because I haven't talked about it at all. In the Gold Rush AU, I have imagined Wanda and Natasha as close friends and then business partners, in their college time, they have been dating each other on and off.

--------_---------

Meeting Wanda

Gold Rush AU Blurb

---------

After few months of one of their final break up, Natasha met Y/N and their contract started, the contract wasn't strict about seeing other people, especially on Natasha's end. Wanda knew about their timeline as Natasha would share every detail with her, her reaction wasn't bad, she would never admit but she was irked by the concept of Natasha sharing her bed with someone else's though it changed when she met Y/N.

Meeting her on one of the bad days where Y/N had gotten a punishment from Natasha, being in a sassy mood with everyone else except the redhead. "Watch where you are going," Y/N spoke sharply, bumping into Wanda, on your way to get something to eat from the cafe, Natasha's special demand, after learning you had not eaten all day. Your tears from the punishment had dried up now, nose still red from the earlier crying.

Wanda's hand shooting out to grab the you by your arm, halting your movement, you stumbled on your feet and if it were not for the grip on your arm, you would have fallen, "What the fuck?" You glared which turned into a wince when the grip on your arm tightened.

"Stand still," Wanda commanded, her voice sending an icy shiver down your spine but you didn't hold back despite your movements stopping, you continued to glare. "Who are you?" Wanda asked when her eyes couldn't find the name tag she was looking for, you looked younger for an intern. Your attitude setting Wanda off immediately, she always had a knack for setting girls like her straight.

"None of your business. Let me go." You replied struggling again to get out of the grip which was all in vain, as the hold tighten, "I will get Mo- Natasha to fire you if you don't let go now!" You threatened, blushing furiously at the slip of your tongue, Wanda raised an eyebrow, smirking in the amusement now realizing who was the girl standing in front of her.

"Really? Are you sure that your Mommy will take your words over mine?" Wanda asked holding back her smile when panic filled the your eyes, "I...Who are you?" You asked your eyes flickering to Wanda's blue-green pearls that glinting with mirth.

"Wanda Maximoff." The look on the your face was priceless and Wanda could not help but let a smile form on her lips, ready to play her games. "O-Oh. Hi. Sorry, Ms. Maximoff. I didn't know it was you." You blushed furiously, relaxing into the hold before Wanda let go, "Clearly." Wanda commented and You grimaced, already worried about Natasha's reaction, Natasha had told you about Wanda a lot, clearly she cherished the woman immensely, her ex-girlfriend, close friend, business partner.

"I-I have to go get lunch." You tried to excuse yourself, "Lunch? It is almost time for dinner." Wanda said frowning slightly, she always had a knack for a healthy and balanced diet, one of the reasons Natasha and her argue all the time. The brunette pestering the now CEO to eat all the time when in college.

"Yeah," You said before muttering quietly about Natasha being mad if you didn't leave immediately, "Can I go?" You asked and watched Wanda who called over an intern walking by, "Could you please get us a salad and the regular lunch meal from the cafeteria up to Natasha's office?"

"Yes sure. Ms. Maximoff." The Intern gave her a polite smile, before leaving and You watched with nervousness bubbling up in your stomach wondering about further actions of the CEO.

"Let's go see what your Mommy has to say about your treatment of her employees." Wanda grabbed your arm, dragging you back to Natasha's office and you followed quietly, already thinking of ways you could get out of the mess you have created. You wanted to be anywhere in the world but next to the brunette.

Little did you know that the brunette will become your whole world.

-------

Hope you liked it, I decided to do a little blurb since I got inspiration. If you still have any doubts, you can send asks again. I tried to be as clear as possible while turning it into a blurb. ✨

[notchesandbullets]

Take it From Your Hot Neighbor Baby (Virgin!Sub!Midoriya x Reader)

Art credit: Heijiu Comics

Requested by anon: OMGGGGGG I love your writing, I was thinking If I can make a request on a smut with my baby Izuku Midoriya. Where he's so beautiful and innocent and the older neighbor next door from him likes him and basically targets him for sex which is the reader of course, and he likes her too. So then she totally doms him and invites him to her house and basically go at it as Izuku's innocent's self can't handle the pleasure the reader gives him!If you could do that I love your writing, If not it's cool!!!

Warnings: slight dumbification, precious bby izuku is 19, everything that happens here is consensual, unprotected sex, pet names, overstimulation, virgin!sub!izuku (mainly), Aged up!AU, filthy smut, dirty talk, cursing.

18+

A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you like it!! i loved writing this :D (feel free to send me another to write, i’m already almost done with what i suspect is your other one xD)

Words: 4k

You grinned as the shared wall between you and your neighbor shook, signaling that the boy from next door was finally home. 

Midoriya Izuku, a passionate and utterly clueless broccoli-haired boy turned fresh pro-hero, sweet and sensitive, everything you ever wanted in a partner. That, and he was clearly too shy to approach you.

You had been neighbors with him and his mom for forever but only until recently, after his admission into UA did you start to see him in another light besides platonic. And it wasn’t until he graduated that he had completely dominated your interest in another way entirely.

It was no secret that he used to be a scrawny kid but since his high school days, he had bulked up considerably. 

Now, with the body of a tank and a soul bursting with positivity, you were completely hooked.

It really was astonishing to you how he continued to maintain that innocent personality after becoming a pro-hero. No one was that optimistic and oblivious all at the same time. 

You had started out with smaller hints, bringing him food once a week to make sure he was eating properly, taking care of him when he was sick or injured and just too stubborn to admit it and go to the hospital, you name it and you’ve done it.

What was extremely exciting at first to be interacting with him like this dulled the moment you realized this baby was so innocent that all your signals were completely going over his head.

The dumb baby. Your dumb baby.

He was fast approaching 20 but you were willing to bet he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. With the way he walked, it was as if he was still the same kid you had met ten years ago.

Your parents had long since moved out of the apartment, going closer to where your grandparents were since they were getting older and needed to be taken care of. You had politely declined their invitation to go with, asking if you could take over the lease on the place since they would no longer be living here.

As their only child, they had a soft spot for you and let you do as you pleased now that you were old enough to be living on your own. They even helped you out with the rent even though that was entirely unnecessary. 

Your day job paid enough.

An upbeat tune floated throughout your apartment and you danced along to the music in nothing but a thin cami and a pair of scarlet lace panties. Since it was so hot today, you had decided to forgo actual clothes. It was perfect, but you were definitely still sweating. 

Tapping a finger to your chin thoughtfully, you recalled how your adorable and hot neighbor’s mom was out working all day and wouldn’t be back until late. Plus, you knew that he had no hero work today, courtesy of the boy telling you himself via text when you checked up on him earlier this week.

Pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head so that it brushed just below your thong clad ass and fell off of your shoulders, you fluffed your hair, giggling to yourself at your reflection in the mirror. 

Today was the day you would make Midoriya yours. 

Grabbing a few cookies from the kitchen that you had made just last night because you felt like it at that moment, you flung open your front door, knocking on his a second later. 

Hopping in place excitedly, you couldn’t contain your enthusiasm. You hadn’t even bothered to message him that you were coming over, knowing that he would prefer it be a surprise. 

“Izuku!!” You cheered when the door opened, immediately thrusting the plate of cookies out towards him. 

He staggered a couple steps back, unprepared for your sudden attack but rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish smile, emerald eyes shining with gratitude.

Midoriya bowed gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N!!” 

It had taken literally years before he was comfortable calling you by your first name without any honorific attached to the end of it. But it was worth the wait as warmth sparked through your heart and a soft smile adorned your features before it was replaced with a mischievous one.

Bounding up to him, you pressed your chest against his purposefully, making it so that you almost lost your balance. You gasped in mock surprise when he instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist to catch you, relishing in how strong his arms felt around you.

Midoriya stuttered as your boobs were practically smushed against his face by how close you were to him. Were they always that big?!

It wasn’t like he masturbated to you everyday or anything. Definitely not.

He groaned, throwing his head back as your body heat encompassed him. 

Who was he kidding, he jerked off to you every spare second he got. He couldn’t help it though. Your beautiful smile always beckoning him over, those alluring eyes of yours enticing him closer and closer until he felt as though he could combust merely by standing in your presence alone.

Giggling, your teeth sank down into your bottom lip and you batted your eyes at him. A shudder ran down his spine and you bit back a smile at the blush that sat on his freckled cheeks.

“Do you want to come over for a little while?” You asked softly, feigning shyness and you rubbed your thighs together. “I have something I want to show you.”

The action didn’t go unnoticed and Midoriya’s mouth dried as the swell of your breasts peeked up over the low scoop of your shirt when he glanced down. 

“Uh, y-yes?” He uttered, voice shaking with uncertainty as he automatically agreed to what you had asked him without even thinking about it.

You giggled, eyes lighting up in excitement. “Great!!”

He stumbled after you as you dragged him next door to your apartment, losing his balance and falling on the couch as you pushed him inside. 

Your eyes shifted from playful to concern as he landed on his back with an ‘oomph’.

You were quick to cup his face, examining him closely. “Oh no, Izuku, are you alright?” 

“Y-Y/N!!!” He stammered out, face bright red at your proximity.

“Are you alright?” You repeated, uncharacteristically serious and seeing as how you were asking him more than one question, he nodded to both. 

You chuckled, leaning in close. His cheeks burned at your proximity and although you wanted so badly to tease him, you needed to get something straight first.

“You ever been fucked before, baby?” You cooed sweetly and a visible shiver shot down his spine.

He gaped for a moment, not used to you saying something so brazenly but shook his head wordlessly. 

You smiled, your tone taking on a gentle lilt as you sensed his nervousness. “Want me to be your first?”

This time he didn’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” He whispered, barely breathing as he finally confessed what he had been longing for ever since he turned of age. “Want you so bad.”

You didn’t outwardly show it, but your heart skipped a beat at his admission and the butterflies fluttered uncontrollably.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip to contain the wide smile. “Something tells me that you want to be played with, am I right?”

A whine bubbled past his lips and your smile turned wicked. Oh, you were going to have so much fun with him. You wondered how he would look when you played with his nipples, which you sure would be so sensitive it would have him hard in a heartbeat, or how he looked writhing under you when he was about to cum. 

Anticipation thrummed through your veins and you couldn’t believe that after all this time, you finally had the opportunity to give him that kind of pleasure. 

“Such a good boy.” You crooned softly and he audibly keened, stretching towards you desperately as you denied him a kiss. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

Midoriya’s head was spinning and his brain was short-circuiting from how unbelievably close you were to him. The sweet smell of your perfume flooded his senses and he swallowed thickly, very much aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You had yet to touch him and he was already a goner.

“S-Safeword?” He stammered out, his eyes shutting automatically as you threaded your fingers through his hair, a small moan breaking through the weighted silence as you scratched his scalp. 

You observed his every move, every flutter of his lashes as he fell under your spell without even trying to succumb. 

“Mmhm…” You hummed. “A word that you can use at any time and I’ll stop everything.”

A safeword was for both parties but you were fairly sure that you wouldn’t need it, being more experienced than him and aware of your boundaries. But just in case, you whispered that little tidbit of information in his ear so that he wasn’t left out of the loop.

“What if…” Midoriya gulped, restraining himself to keep his hands at his sides no matter how desperately he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to know if they were as soft as they looked. “C-Can’t I just tell you to stop?”

You frowned a tiny bit, not put off by his question but rather how fucked out he looked already. The poor boy was already straining in his pants, the bulge making your mouth water but you kept your head on straight. 

“You can.” You agreed. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

He glanced away from you, thinking hard. He wasn’t all innocent. He had watched porn before when dared to by Bakugou after one of the class movie nights at Heights Alliance back when they were at UA, and he was embarrassed how quickly he got attached to the videos that had bondage and overstimulation.

It always looked so enticing. He wanted to know what it felt like to be pinned down and overpowered until pleasure rode on every one of his senses. 

He wanted you to do that to him. 

“W-What about if I just used your name?”

Midoriya cringed as soon as he suggested it and took it back faster than you could react, another idea tumbling out of his mouth in a split second. 

“Black?” He whispered, avoiding eye contact with you. 

Baby boy blinked so nervously, worried you might refuse or reject him for any reason and you took his chin in between your thumb and forefinger, drawing his face close to yours. 

“Alright baby, that’s perfect.” You reassured softly. “Either one of us can use it and then everything stops, okay?”

He nodded, getting more excited as your breath fanned across his lips. 

“Need to hear you say it.” You demanded quietly. 

His green curly hair bounced as he nodded vigorously. “I understand!!”

Midoriya stiffened for a moment in surprise as you finally pressed your lips against his, sealing his first kiss and he swore his heart stopped beating. Then, he melted into putty as you moved your lips skillfully against his, coaxing him to return it with as much lust and passion as you were igniting within him.

You pulled away to lean in close to his ear, trailing a finger up and down his chest playfully.

“Let me take care of you, Izuku~” You cooed, slyly licking the shell of his ear, savoring in the shiver that shot down his spine as a result of your ministrations.

You continued down, planting hot and wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw as he whined and wriggled beneath you. Trailing down his neck to his collar bones and then his bare chest as you ripped open his shirt in one swift movement, you pinned his wrists above his head.

A protest ripped from his throat at your display of dominance.

“Y-Y/N!! I wanted to—”

“To what?” You questioned smugly.

Midoriya whimpered pathetically and you smirked. 

He blushed, looking away. The boy was built like a bull but was an absolutely softie, innocent pure little bean at heart. He didn’t have what it took to take over. 

“You wanted to touch me?” You asked, laving your tongue around one of his sensitive nipples. “You wanted to be on top?”

His face scrunched up at the strange sensation, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out as you bit down on the tender flesh.

You licked your lips seductively, making a show of your tongue grazing over your teeth as you gazed down at him through hooded eyes. “Do you think you deserve to touch me after being such a bad boy?”

You heard him every night. The walls were thin in the cheap apartment complex you lived in. Too thin. 

“Don’t touch me until I say so.” You ordered.

You heard every wanton moan that bubbled past his pouty lips, such pretty little sounds that you wanted to hear all for yourself. You were jealous of the others in the vicinity that can undoubtedly hear him as well. The only thing that settled your heart at ease was the luscious cries of your name falling from his lips. 

And now, all your neighbors would know just who he belonged to.

Midoriya gulped nervously and you reveled in the adrenaline pumping through your veins at being in control and dominating him. Your shirt rode up as you straddled his hips, and he wriggled beneath you, wanting nothing more than to touch you.

You trailed a finger from his chest all the way to his navel, teasing the waistband of his pants. He whined as you wiggled your ass down to sit comfortably on top of his thighs. Deftly unbuttoning his jeans, your eyes flickered back up to him.

“Oh my, these look so uncomfortable.” You mock pouted, sneakily biting the zipper of his fly and pulling it down. “Do you want me to take them off for you?”

You grinned as he involuntarily bucked his hips up into your feather-light touch, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes in frustration. Slowly pulling down his pants and boxers together, your eyes bugged out as you saw what he was packing.

“Oh…” You mused. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

If you thought he was big, you were dead wrong. This boy was hung as a horse. Well endowed to the max, he was easily packing eight inches and you couldn’t even fit your hands all away around his thick girth. 

You stroked him as best as you could but judging by that guttural groan that erupted from his mouth, you’d say you were doing a pretty good job. 

“Please!!” Midoriya begged, practically sobbing as you teased him and it was like music to your ears. “Please, Y/N, make me feel good!!”

“Yeah,” You whispered, suckling on the vein that ran on the underside of his stiff member. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”

“Yes, please!!” He cried, fisting the fabric of the sofa, remembering your rule not to touch you yet. 

But it was killing him.

The foreplay had made you wet enough to take him and you weren’t keen on waiting another second longer.

Positioning yourself over his leaking head, the tip of his engorged shaft rubbed against your puffy folds as you pushed your thong to the side.

Midoriya’s eyes bulged out of his head as he saw the red lace and he couldn’t stop his hands from shooting to your waist as you threw your shirt up over your head, leaving you in that thin cami that left nothing to the imagination. 

“F-Fuck—” You cursed as you sank down on him, thighs trembling from the effort of taking him. “Izuku, baby, you’re so big.”

He was rock hard and pressing against your inner walls just right. It had been so long since someone had filled you up like this and now that you had him, no one even came close to any of those prior. 

Midoriya was huffing, moaning uncontrollably as the rush of pleasure he got by being encased in your tight heat so quickly. His hands gripped your hips, kneading the flesh of your ass as he started to rock you back and forth in his lap.

You completely ignored the fact that he disobeyed your order. 

“Dumb baby,” You cooed softly. “Does that pussy feel good around your cock? Huh? Tell me.”

“Yes— hhgh, I love it so much, Y/N, you feel so tight, ahh!!” He mewled, unable to think of anything else except how good your cunny felt fluttering around him.

His face was beautifully flushed, unable to tear his gaze off of where his cock had disappeared into you. The sticky wetness smeared against his hip bones made your arousal evident and he was impossibly turned on at the vision in front of him.

You threw your head back as he took over control, gyrating your hips for you before you were even adjusted to his massive length. A breathy moan tumbled out of your lips as his fingers knotted their way into your hair, yanking it back so that your hips canted into him with every thrust. 

“I-Izuku!!” You moaned loudly as he roughly and sporadically pounded into you. 

You squealed as he pulled you down to his chest to get a better angle, all the breath vanishing from your lungs as he planted his heels and fucked up into you so fast that you would’ve fallen off from the force if he wasn’t holding onto you with an iron grip.

“Sorry, Y/N!!” He broke off with a whine and burrowed his face into your neck as you clenched around him, his hips stuttering. “But I’m about to—”

You shrieked as he released inside of you, painting your walls with his thick, milky white cum. Chest heaving, you pushed him down and straightened up, clicking your tongue.

“Such a selfish baby.” You crooned, controlling your breathing enough to put up a confident front. “I didn’t even get to cum yet.”

His eyes widened in horror at not satisfying you first. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t— Gah!!”

His earnest apology was interrupted  as you began bouncing on him again, keen on reaching your high. His spent length twitched inside of you and he whimpered, eyes screwed shut at the pain.

“Y/N!! It… It hurts!!” Midoriya whimpered pitifully, his eyes screwed shut at the overstimulation.

“Aw,” Your smile was sadistic and you threw your ass back into his lap intentionally, causing him to throb within you. “Does it?”

“Yes!!” He cried out. “Fuck, please stop!!”

You pouted sadly, gyrating your hips faster. “But I haven’t even cum yet.”

It was too much. Your words spun with those sinful rocks of your hips was making a lethal mix of pain and pleasure shoot through his system and he whined, pawing at your hips. 

“Y/N, please!!” He begged, unsure what he was begging for at this point. 

It didn’t take long for him to get hard again. You weren’t sure if his short refractory period was a side effect of his power or the fact that he had just lost his virginity to you and wanted you again, but you were definitely going to oblige him either way.

Midoriya arched into your scalding touch as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your soft lips and the hot cavern of your mouth distracted him as your tongues danced together and he almost forgot about the fact that he was balls-deep inside of you. 

Until you started to move again. 

His cry was muffled as you licked it out of his mouth before pulling away.

Your grin widened and you rocked your hips back and forth at a mind-blowing pace, reducing the blubbering boy beneath you into a whimpering mess.

But your confident façade soon vanished as his hands found purchase on your hips and bucked up wildly. 

The grin slipped off your face and you whimpered, fingers splaying on his bare chest for balance as he went wild, fucking up into you with abandon. 

You could do nothing else other than hold on and pray you wouldn't fall off of him as he took over.

Biting your lip, you desperately tried to regain control. “Izuku—” 

He gritted his teeth, ignoring you and your eyes widened as green lightning started to surround his body. 

Your eyes widened. “Wait—!”

He didn't. 

Your head tipped back and the loudest scream you've ever produced ripped from your throat as he used One for All to completely destroy your pussy. But to your disbelief, he didn’t stop, he didn’t even slow down when you contracted around him.

His hips slammed up into yours at a breaknecking speed and tears blurred your vision as you cried out, sobbing with pleasure as he finally made you cum.

“Y/N, you’re milking my cock so much!!” Midoriya blurted out with a raspy moan as another orgasm spiraled to you and you shrieked, this one hitting harder than the last.  

At some point, you blacked out.

When you came to, Midoriya was hovering over you worriedly, his green eyes glistening with concern as he called your name over and over again.

Sitting up with a groan, you realized that he had laid you down on the couch and covered you with a blanket.

“Y/N?” The boy asked, brushing the hair out of your eyes as he sat down by your side.

You offered him a smile, every bone in your body protesting as you sat up. Midoriya was helping you in a second, ignoring your feeble protests that you could do it yourself. 

The next minute, he played with his fingers awkwardly. 

“Was… Was it good for you?” He asked timidly, blinking his big eyes up at you. 

You cracked a smile at how earnest he was. Cutie. 

“Of course it was.” You murmured, planting a soft kiss on his forehead before staring straight into his eyes. “You know this means you're mine, right?”

Midoriya blinked his doe eyes, mouth parting slightly. “Eh?!”

You smirked. “Yup.”

“Really?!?!” He asked excitedly, leaning forward to stick his face close to yours and you giggled. 

Adorable. Simply adorable.

“Yeah, baby.” You whispered, cupping his face and pecking his freckled cheek. He was so sweet. So pure. 

You couldn’t wait to defile him more. Wait until he was exposed to the world of BDSM.

Licking your lips slyly, you smirked. “You’re all mine.”

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​