#iNs over 1k ❂

[ink-n-shadowfiction]

Alright...hear me out. Ghost with a fem!reader that wakes him up with a blow job, and he later returns the favor by waking her up by either eating her out or very gently fucking her awake. I am a FERAL for consenting somno.

this, THIS is what i needed to write about😌

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

word count: 908

warning: smut (minors—DNI), consensual somnophilia (m! and f!receiving), oral (m!receiving, mentions of f!receiving), slight dirty talk? (basically just simon having a way with words), not proofread

note: pt. 2 can be found here ⤳ link

you wouldn’t even know how this whole thing started with simon. you would both probably be a bit tipsy, trying to celebrate his most recent mission with a few sips (an entire bottle) of wine at home.

you would be sitting in simon’s lap, thighs hooked on either side of his hips and leaning back against the hands he was running along your spine. you weren’t even sure you heard him right at first, which made your eyebrows furrow a bit as you met his gaze.

“you want me to what?”

simon rarely got sheepish or embarrassed, but when it came to sex, he was typically a bit more reserved.

“c’mon…don’t make me say it again, sweetheart. that’s fuckin’ cruel to do to a man.” he joked quietly, the touch of his hands on your back becoming a bit firmer as he pulled you closer. “just wanted to give you somethin’ to think about, lovie. i think it’d be bloody sexy to wake up with my cock halfway down your throat."

simon never mentioned it again. but you remembered, letting the idea hang in the back of your mind for weeks. the more you thought about it, the more it excited you. so when you woke up early one morning with simon still fast asleep next you, you knew that it was the perfect time.

you slowly slipped down the bed, nestling yourself under the blankets and between simon's slightly opened thighs. you gently tugged down the hem of his briefs until you could fish his semi-hard cock from its confines, unable to hold back the soft hum that fell from your lips as you felt its heaviness in your palm.

it didn’t even matter that the blanket over your head concealed simon’s peaceful face—all you could focus on was licking a long stripe along the underside of his cock, tongue flicking against the soft pink tip and fingers squeezing along the base. the heady taste of simon bled out on your tongue, making your eyes slowly flutter closed as you closed your lips around him and gave him a gentle suck.

simon’s legs twitched at the sudden stimulation, his brain slow to catch up and stir out of his tired stupor. “mmm…what’re you—oh christ.” his hand found the back of your head beneath the blanket, his other making quick work to push the fabric away from your face and letting his eyes feast on the sight in front of him. “jesus, sweetheart. m’not—fuck, not gonna last long with your throat squeezin’ me like that.”

simon was still half-asleep, his movements slow and sluggish as he shifted further up on the pillows to get a better look at you sucking him off. one hand remained on the back of your head, not as a guide but simply to touch you, the other resting along your opened jaw and fingers brushing at the corner of your stretched lips. he was right—he didn’t last long. it took only a few more languid dips of simon’s cock into the back of your throat before he spilled his cum into your eager mouth with a soft hiss and whimper of your name.

what you didn’t expect to happen after that morning was for simon to return the favor.

you had fallen asleep on the couch one afternoon, legs splayed open and head nestled against the armrest as you slept. it was a blazing afternoon, one so hot that you were only wearing a pair of silk shorts and a tank top—all of which exposed too much and not enough all at once.

simon was walking through the door, arms loaded with his bag of gear and dirty laundry he’d collected while away at base. his eyes caught on your figure immediately, and it took everything in him not to drop the items in his grip. you looked so peaceful as you slept, but simon couldn’t care less about that.

once he had placed this things into a neat pile by the door, simon made his way over to the living room and sunk down on his knees in front of your sleeping form. he didn’t even bother pulling your shorts off of your hips, afraid the movement would stir you from sleep too quickly—so he settled for pressing heated kisses directly along your clothed core, a soft groan leaking from his lips as one arm curled around the thigh propped up against the back of the couch and tugged you closer to his waiting mouth.

a smirk flitted on simon’s lips as your sleeping body reacted perfectly to him, your legs falling open a bit more as you shifted your hips up in your sleep. he continued pressing those kisses along your covered slit until a breathy whine fell from your mouth. he peeked one eye up to notice your tired eyes fluttering open, a soft ‘what’re you doing, si?’ falling from you in a panted breath.

“remember last week? woke up cummin’ down that pretty little throat of yours.” simon mumbled into the heated skin of your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your flesh, pulling away with a lewd pop. his hand dragged up your body, palm pushing against your balmy skin from the top of your cunt until his fingers were splayed on your sternum. “just returnin’ the favor, sweetheart. relax f’me, baby—yeah, that’s it. go back to sleep and let my tongue do all the work, m’kay?”

[neo-nomatrix]

Gold chain beneath your shirt, the shirt that you let me wear home

Luke Castellan x reader

word count: little over 1k

summary: no matter how hard you try to forget, there are signs of luke everywhere

a/n: smutty, angsty

He betrayed you, it wasn’t a dream or a stupid vision. He really betrayed you.

When Luke first brought up getting revenge on the gods you thought he was joking. He hadn’t mentioned “kronos’ army” , afraid that would be too much to jump onto you. You realize it far too late, that he was very much serious about his plan.

“You can join me. It’ll be just us again, remember? I can’t protect you,” He says, looking at you lovingly.

Luke had found you before departing camp, for good. He gave you a last chance to join him and the army. All while telling you what he had done to Percy.

“You tried to poison percy!” You yelled at him in the heat of the moment.

“I did what I had to do!” He screamed at you.

You backed up into the corner of your cabin, everyone else from your cabin gone. The few year rounders somewhere else.

“I’m not joining you Luke! That would be betraying everyone I love!” You yell back.

“What about me?! Huh?! You have hated the gods ever since I met you, what happened?” He questions.

“I may hate them, but I could never do this. I’m not a monster,” You quietly say, shaking your head.

“Fine. Make the wrong choice. But I won't be able to save you when the time comes,” He tells you cryptically.

You watch him walk away from you. You debate turning him in, but how? He’s stronger than you, faster, you know you can’t. All you can do is watch him walk away, possibly destroying both your futures. As he opens the door he looks back at you one last time.

——————

You’ve been rather alone at camp since summer ended. Percy and Annabeth return home while Grover goes off on his adventure for Pan. The only friends you have there are small acquaintances and your siblings. You decided you’re not quite ready to return home. You’ve had run-ins with monsters previously outside of camp and you aren’t prepared to deal with them again. Partially because your mind is flooded with Luke.

With the extra amounts of free time you find yourself rearranging your cabin and area. Sorting through your clothes over and over again. This time you find something you hadn’t previously, a thick plaid blue flannel. lukes. You pick it up and hold it in front of you. Memories flood in your head of Luke.

It’s mid June, you and luke’s favorite time for a swim in the lake. You find a lake hidden behind a forest of trees that’s quiet, perfect for you two. You were wandering in the forest together when you first found it. Hand in hand. The glimmering sun makes the water sparkle.

You start taking off your shirt and jean shorts while smiling widely.

“C’mon!” You laugh at Luke.

“You’re crazy,” he laughs at you, taking off his flannel and cargos.

He holds your hand as he pulls you into the crystal clear water. You both smile as the warm water touches your skin. Luke holds strongly onto your waist with one hand. The other acts like a paddle to push you into the middle of the lake. Your hands wrap about his neck, playing with his gold chain which has a feather charm hanging off of it.

He kisses your neck softly, roaming his calloused hands around your waist. You comb your fingers through his brown curls. Your thumb grazed over his scar below his right eye. You press a kiss on his lips, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He drops his right hand underneath the water and pulls your underwear aside. His long fingers teasing you entrance.

“Don’t tease,” you whisper against his lips.

He smiles and plunges one finger into you, letting out a breath of air as you moan. He kisses the sweet spot on your neck. Your mouth hangs open and you grind onto his fingers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he mumbles.

“I’m a good girl right?” you moan softly.

“Are you? I don’t think so, baby,” he frowns, slowing his fingers down.

“W-what? no- no i’m a good girl, the best,” you say, eyes furrowing at his response.

“Hmm, maybe you should prove to me how good you are,” He whispers back, smirking.

“I’ll do anything,” you desperately say.

“Make yourself cum on my fingers,” he orders you, moving your hips against his bulge.

You grind your hips against his fingers. “You’re like a fucking dog in heat,” he laughs at you.

“I’m gonna- Luke i’m gonna,” you whine.

“Let go baby, be a good girl,” He smiles.

You cum harshly on his fingers, he slowly pumps in and out riding you out. He continues pressing kisses against you, his over hand roaming your body.

“Good girl, my good girl.”

You both get out of the water tired. Allowing the sun to soak into you, drying you off. You put your shorts back on before realizing your shirt has gotten mud on it.

“Luke! My shirt!” you cry out to him.

“Here, take this,” He laughs at you, throwing his flannel at you.

You smile back at him, putting the flannel over your shoulders. You go up to him and wrap your arms around his tall figure.

“Wish we could stay here forever,” You mumble.

“I think we can work something out.”

——————

You stare at the shirt, smiling. You wonder what it would be like if he never left, if it could be just you forever. You hug the shirt longingly, going to your bunk and wrapping yourself in the flannel. You feel a hard metal in the pocket, his chain. You hold it in your palm; small tears pooling in your eyes.

“Fuck you Luke. Why’d you have to do this?” You look out the window, angry and sad.

You wish for a different ending. You wish he stayed. You wish you had gone with him, maybe it would’ve just been you two. You wish you had stayed in that moment forever. You wish it wasn’t true. You wish he hadn’t left.

You love Luke Castellan, even though you wish you dont. You hate yourself for falling for it. You hate him for making you fall for him.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 26: Thereafter

Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)

It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.

You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts. 

So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick. 

But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave. 

After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now. 

You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.

And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something. 

You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it. 

At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do. 

And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road. 

What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect. 

On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford. 

However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for. 

One about Portgas D. Ace.

“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace. 

Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly. 

“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.” 

“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought. 

“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”

“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”

“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”

“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”

“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”

“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”

“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”

Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”

---

Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition. 

Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”

Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”

Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace. 

“Where did you get this?”

“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down.  We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”

Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”

“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”

“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”

--

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[espinosaurusrexex]

Congrats on 1k followers, you deserve it! I love your writing so much, I’d love to see you write a Bucky x Reader Mind Reader fic where enhanced!reader can read minds and knows that Bucky is pining after her.

THANK YOU! Part of that is because you keep supporting my work, and I love you so much for it 🥰💕💗 - seriously go check out M's page for some great fic recommendations!

Mind Reader (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

BuckyBarnes x Enhanced!Female!Reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: pining, fluff, Bucky being very sweet but also self-sabotaging, language

It started off like a whisper. You weren’t used to whispers. Normally, people talked to themselves in moderate volumes. Who would be afraid of their own thoughts after all? But Bucky was different. He was so different, in fact, that you had mistaken his thoughts for something entirely else. 

You should go over to them, be part of the group. I can’t.

They were like conversations. But not like thoughts usually were. More like a constant...

No wonder nobody likes you. You’re a coward.

...fight.

Shut up.

You looked up at Bucky who was shaking his head with a frown over at the other end of the room. Wanda and Sam were standing by the window talking, laughing. Bucky was never part of it and it saddened you a little. Especially because he was actually very sweet. He just never showed it. But that’s why you liked to occasionally listen to his thoughts. 

That was very well said, Steve. Good job.

It made you smile. And even though you had promised the team not to do it, sometimes, you couldn’t help yourself. He was just...

I like that braid Natasha did today, maybe she can braid my hair like that too.

...so...

This is the best food I’ve ever tasted. Wow, Sam.

..cute.

And that’s why you did it occasionally.

You got up from your seat at the kitchen island and walked over to the sink. Bucky stepped aside to give you space. He was still a little timid around everyone. You talked to him frequently though, trying to include him in activities and general conversation to make sure he didn’t feel left out. And he appreciated it. 

“Thank you,” you whispered before passing him to leave the room.

Oh, wow. She smells very good. Don’t be a creep.

You bit back a smile before leaving, your heart skipping a small beat before settling in its pace again. Bucky was so endearing with his little compliments. But he would never dare say them out loud - not with that condescending voice he harbored as well.

You wanted to do something about it, but you also knew it would reveal your little secret of occasional drop-ins to his mind. And you were sure this was a boundary you couldn’t cross with Bucky yet. Steve? Sure, what was he going to do about it? Sam would probably close his ears to prevent you from listening to his thoughts - he didn’t think a lot of times... Nat would probably not mind at all, but Bucky? No, you didn’t know what it would do to him. 

So you restrained. But it became harder and harder with time as Bucky’s thoughts turned in a direction neither of you had expected. 

She looks so pretty today. 

He was subtle at first, surprised by his own mind but somehow content. Over time, you looked at him afterward, he smiled, a small blush creeping over his cheeks to his ears. It was adorable. 

He noticed things nobody else did. He had attention to detail, and he was so interested in the smallest of things you did. 

Did she put on eyeshadow? Her eyes are shining. Not for you.

But it was always there, at the end of each compliment - ready to destroy the little warmth he spread in your heart - that voice. That annoying, down-talking, and toxic voice his mind hosted and that was nothing like the Bucky he revealed to the outside. 

I wish I could hold her hand. She will run away from you.

Your heart clenched with every day his mind ruined the few soft moments Bucky allowed himself. You wanted to just grab him, squish him tight and tell that stupid voice to shut up. Because you did want to hold his hand during movie nights, or that day he noticed your new nail polish, or the time your fingers brushed against his when he handed you a mug. And it was killing you, tearing you apart from the constant tug of war his mind was playing. 

You wanted to hear the compliments he thought of but at the same time, the flip side of his thoughts became more painful every time. Still, you challenged him, walked past him closer, looked at him longer, talked to him more - just to feel the goosebumps building when his kind words reached your mind. Unfortunately... just for them to be destroyed right after.

Her lips look so soft. I bet she’s a good kisser. Fucking creep.

So, you eventually got so used to listening, it became more and more difficult to distinguish thought from spoken words with time. You couldn’t stop, though, it was too thrilling - too nice to be appreciated.

You found yourself lingering in spaces Bucky was more often. Not necessarily talking, just being in the same place, stealing glances, listening to his mind - finding calm in the soothing tone of his silent monologues... however condescending they ended up being. 

Right now, you were doing exactly that: Sitting in the common room, reading a magazine while Bucky sat across from you, mindlessly opening and closing his book, but you knew he wasn’t reading...

Imagine what it would be like to just be able to go over and sit next to her.

You smiled, biting your cheeks immediately.

Calling her my girl... Jesus, I don’t think I know how dating works anymore.

You stole a glance at him, but Bucky was looking down quickly, tracing the cover of his book with his index finger. 

You will never find love again... that’s ok, it’s too overwhelming anyway.

This time, you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the page. They hadn’t moved over a single word for the entire time. You shook your head, took a deep breath, and tried to actually read. Bucky’s mind was silent for some time, and as much as you liked hearing him, it was nice to not experience his sad thoughts.

After a while, you began to actually read. The article was actually somewhat entertaining, you should have done it sooner. Your eyes flew over the page, eating up the meaning behind the latest internet trend, your fingers flipping to the next page.

That outfit looks so good on her. That’s her color. I wish I had a color.

“It’s cerulean,” you laughed absentmindedly, your eyes nearing the end of the page.

“What?” Oh my god.

Oh shit. Your head shot up immediately, sight panic surging up your spine. “The answer for my crossword.” Close call.

You’d think that after this accident, you had gotten more careful, maybe stopped reading his mind so much. But something always drew you towards him. When Bucky was in the room, even Peter's weird and random rabbit hole thoughts seemed to move in the background. 

You craved Bucky’s thoughts - they excited you, made you feel like no one else’s compliments ever did - so you didn't stop. But today, you actually wished you had...

Bucky’s mind was particularly gruesome today. He and Steve had just come back from a rather frustrating mission. Many pedestrians were injured, no targets contained - and it made the bad voice in his head take over. 

You’re such a failure, Steve risked his life to save you and for what? For you to fuck it all up again. 

The common room was empty when you heard it. You were the only one in the adjacent kitchen, Bucky’s thoughts preceding his entrance by a few seconds. When he entered, he stopped in his tracks, looked at you, and let a small “Hi.” Slip past his lips.

“Hey,” you responded sadly. There was no compliment today. His mind went back to his prior train of thought immediately. 

“How are you?” You carefully asked to loosen the awkwardness, but Bucky just turned to the fridge with a gruff mumble.

“Fine.”

It would have probably been better for everyone if Hydra just had had its ways with me. Had me die of all the torture eventually. Then all of this would have never happened. 

Tears sprung to your eyes at his thoughts. But it was even worse, you couldn’t help him - he had never really told you and it was eating you alive. 

Everyone is just better off without me...

And then a slight sniffle escaped you, the tears running freely as you imagined Bucky not being part of your life. It was so sad that he couldn’t see how important he was to all of you. You especially. He had made your life at the compound so much brighter, was a thing you always looked forward to as a part of your day.

"Are you okay?” Bucky turned immediately, his eyes going wide when he saw your distraught face. You fucking idiot, of course she’s not okay. It’s probably your fault, too. 

“Stop!”

“Stop what?” He moved closer. “Stop what?”

“The arguing, the- the constant downplay.” You wiped your tears but there was no use, fresh ones were already replacing them. 

“Doll, I don’t know what you-”

You shook his frame, your hands wrapping around his biceps. “I need you! Nobody would be happier if you were dead!”

It was dead silent for a moment. You could watch as the confusion shook from Bucky’s face with every jolt you were giving him. But you didn’t care. It was enough - he was enough. 

When your hands finally let go, Bucky cleared his throat, his eyes, however, never left yours.

"So you do read my thoughts.” 

“I-“ but your mouth was faster than your mind. You didn't know what to tell him. You had promised the team to never do it. You knew it was a breach of privacy, a breaking of trust. Your head hung low as you avoided Bucky’s eyes. They weren’t furious, or confused - really, nothing you had imagined them to be if he ever found out. He was kind of... calm. As if something had been lifted off his shoulders - it must have been the closure you provided him with. 

You dared to glance up again just to be met with that confusing look of his again, and the fact he wasn’t saying a thing made you panic. “I’m sorry, I was too curious. Because every time I...” You sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. There was no use in defending your actions. “I’m sorry. I promised not to read your minds and I did it anyways. That’s not okay.”

But Bucky didn’t seem to listen to the words tumbling over your tongue in desperation. His brows were scrunched when his eyes flicked to the ceiling and then back to you. What the hell was this about?

“If you heard that... did you also hear my... you know...” Oh. Right. The compliments. How could you have forgotten? They were the very reason you were in this situation right now. 

You breathed in deeply. “Yeah.” And it felt a lot better now that it had all been said. 

“Oh.” Bucky’s cheeks tainted in pink when he turned in place awkwardly. But even though the kitchen was massive, there was no real hiding from you. 

You watched as he shuffled in front of you, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and looked anywhere but at you. And it reminded you of the Bucky only you got to experience in secret. The one whose thoughts never left that brain of his and it warmed you from the inside out again. 

“Thank you,” you finally whispered, careful not to chase him away. Because it looked like he was about to bolt, though something was keeping him from doing so.

“For what?” Big blue orbs found yours again, intrigue and confusion weaving through his features - it was adorable.

You bit your lip. “All the compliments. You’re very charming, you know?” Part of you wondered if the old Bucky - 40s Bucky - was just like this. Innocently sweet, maybe with a hint of shameless flirting though. “You are such a great person, Bucky. If the others could hear how incredibly attentive you are. They would love to have you around more.”

Your hand reached out to touch his arm and the blush on his cheeks deepened.

“I’ll try,” he smiled, the tension from before seemingly forgotten in the vast kitchen.

You smiled as well, riding on a wave of confidence when you leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his heated cheek.

Sweet Jesus, I think I’ll pass out. 

You just chuckled and left. The other conversation hanging in the room had to wait for now. First, you wanted to see Bucky mingle with the crowd, get comfortable, then, you’d work on finally making him yours. 

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[fastcardotmp3]

stobin on the run; ronance; background steddie; 1k words

After everything, after Vecna, after the Gates close, Robin is never quite able to let go of Starcourt.

None of them are, to a certain extent, but the particular way Robin Buckley clings to Russian conspiracies and the fear of what it would mean for her and her friends if they ever decided they weren't done with those kids who knew just a little too much, is actually dangerous.

She keeps an eye on things, learns Russian for real, never really lets go of the paranoia that any drink she doesn't make herself might be spiked, might be the one that takes her down long enough for her to end up in another cell with no windows and no hope for getting out.

It's dangerous because she's smart.

It's dangerous because of how damn close she gets.

When Agent Stinson shows up on her doorstep and tells her its not safe for her to remain where she is, living the life she's leading, her initial response is to tell her to go fuck herself. Robin hasn't been safe since 1985. Robin hasn't been safe since long before then either, given Steve's stories, given El's.

But the fact of the matter is she's something of a national security risk. The binders tucked under false bottomed drawers in her and Steve's apartment are borderline treasonous.

When Agent Stinson says, "you're not safe," she means from their own government as much as an enemy one, and that?

Well, that earns a different response.

It doesn't feel obvious to her that Steve would come with her when she runs.

He's built a life here in Indianapolis, a job he likes painting houses and a burgeoning relationship with the guy they both came to adore while waiting by his hospital bedside, but when she reflects upon this out loud he gets more angry than he's ever been.

Not loud, but mad all the same, that she'd ever presume to leave him behind when her life was in danger.

So Steve comes.

They're in Scotland first, the quickest flight they were able to get seats on after driving themselves to Canada, and then Italy for a while. They jump below the equator to Argentina and then even lower to Australia.

They see the world. They leave their lives behind. They leave their people too.

And it hurts. It hurts to be hunted by the government they've covered for their entire adult lives. It hurts because of how unsurprising it is.

It hurts to be lonely for no reason other than knowing too much.

It hurts enough to, one day, embrace the danger again.

One day isn't today.

One day isn't the day Nancy Wheeler's phone call doesn't get picked up.

At twenty-seven years old, Nancy has essentially spent a decade working in journalism.

At twenty-seven years old, she's deep into burnout over the frustration of impeding bureaucracy and she's talking with Robin on the phone every other day about how she's going to come join them in Indy and learn to paint or something instead.

She's talking with Robin on the phone every other day.

And then Robin doesn't pick up one afternoon.

And then she gets a call from Eddie.

Nancy resigns from her job at the Boston Globe the same day, hangs up her credentials, and makes that trip to Indy followed immediately by a trip to Hawkins because two of their friends are missing and in their experience? That can't mean anything good.

It becomes clear within a week that this isn't going to be an easy solve. A week of sleeping in her childhood bedroom and watching Eddie spiral and listening to Dustin and Erica go on tangent after tangent about all their various theories, hiding genuine terror underneath all their bickering.

It becomes clear in a month that this is going to require different skills than any of them have, and Nancy drives her car through the night to end up crashing in a bunker where she learns all the ins and outs of private investigation from a man with about twelve different identities should he need them.

Sam Owens went off the radar years ago.

Anyone who worked at Hawkins Lab all but doesn't exist anymore.

It's a hard fucking thing to solve and all the while Nancy carries those phone calls in her back pocket, because she knows Robin wouldn't just leave, not from the way they spoke with each other.

Robin laughed with Nancy.

She was so eager to share stories about her day that she would leave lengthy messages on Nancy's machine. She was so eager to hear Nancy's own stories that she would stay on the phone while making dinner at risk of burning the house down.

She spoke quiet and earnest into the dead hours of the night, the cresting of a rising sun. She told Nancy about everything they'd do when Nancy finally took a break from the job that was making her miserable and how they would find her something fun. Something just fun, Nance, I swear, we're gonna get you hobbies.

Robin wouldn't just leave.

But if she had to? If she had no other choice? Nancy knows Steve would go with her.

It takes three years in the end, and Nancy's half convinced the two of them got sloppy on purpose, caught back in the Americas with a trip to Mexico and a reused passport, and Nancy is dragging Eddie out of his head and onto a plane before she can fully explain that it's mostly a gut thing.

The trail she's been chasing? Seeing them in it even if they're not there? It's entirely a gut thing, which is why it's only Eddie she drags with her, it's only Murray she allows to know where they're going in case it goes wrong.

It's only her head she lets believe it, because she doesn't think her heart will survive another loss like this.

She dreams sometimes at night, of an amused voice teasing in her ear, tinny over the phone lines but so vastly real.

She lets her head believe it on the plane, on the cab ride, on the bus ride, on the walk down a long rural road out to a little house in the desert with a fence and a mailbox painted yellow.

She lets her head believe it when she watches the twitch of a curtain from inside.

She only lets her head believe it, and that's a lie she only realizes was a lie when Robin Buckley steps out onto the porch with Steve at her shoulder and the world stops.

Nancy Wheeler's knees almost give out from under her when those freckled cheeks plump up with the hint of a smile.

When she gets her arms around her, a hand across shaved down and dark-dyed hair, a word over the top about you're okay, you're okay, you're alive--

When Nancy breathes again, it's with the beat of a heart that knows it's not this easy.

But for a moment? She's dreaming in a lonely Boston apartment all over again.

For a moment, she's making plans.

She really does intend to stick to them this time.

[akutasoda]

Congrats on reaching 1k, you totally deserve it. Also, i was wondering if you could do a kunikida from bungo stray dogs x female reader fluffy sorta fic?

coffee with sugar

synopsis - maybe kunikida needs a bit more sweetness in his life

includes - kunikida ft the agency

warnings - fem!reader, fluff, absolute cringe towards the end, wc - 2k

a/n: hehe thank you so much!

'thank you again for allowing me a part time here' you gave the man a smile as he welcomed you into the small café uzunaki, he reciprocated before responding 'it's no problem, it may not be the busiest place but help is appreciated'. truth be told, you moved to yokohama a few days ago and you were in the middle of job hunting here, so you decided to earn atleast some income bt working at a local café. it was only meant to be a part time job to tide you over until you could find somewhere else so you assumed that the quaint café would offer a nice way to pay your bills.

the owner gave you a quick tour of the café before showing you the ins and outs of how to make some popular drinks. 'like i said, we don't really have many customers so we only have one other waitress but the customers we do have are regulars' you finished the latte he instructed you to try making and slided it over to him and enquiring 'who are the regulars?', he took a quick sip before nodding in approval and adding 'the local agency, an interesting bunch that come here practically every day' he paused and pointed to a small post it on the counter 'may want to get familiar with those orders'. you nodded before taking a quick look.

you finished your first day by practicing making a variety of the drinks and plating of food while the owner gave you hints and tips. the café didn't actually open that day, so you appreciated having the time to learn in peace - the other waitress visited for a while to meet her new coworker and even helped you learn some trickier drinks to brew. it really seemed like the perfect way to open up your new life in yokohama.

the next day was your first proper shift, it was up until lunch time and then you offered a few hours toward the closing shift. a simple day that made you rather glad you landed this job. the owner was there to open up the shop and soon retreated elsewhere when he made sure you were okay with everything. a couple of early morning workers stopped by and ordered basic coffee's so your real challenge was when an eccentric ravenette burst through the doors followed by a decent sized group. there was the ravenette, a tall brunette, a taller blonde and a ginger haired boy with a black haired girl hanging off his arm - you didn't quite know what to expect with them but you vaguely remember some of them from descriptions about the agency members.

as soon as they sat down in a booth you picked up your small notepad and walked over to the table, almost immediately the brunette spoke up 'i didn't know the old man hired a new waitress?' he stared at you for a second before complaining 'what? don't kick me' he stared down the blonde opposite him and before either of them could speakthe ginger haired boy caught your attention 'you are new aren't you? don't mind them-' he was cut off with the ravenette's declaration for his usual, extra sweet, and the blonde sighed before adding 'we will all have our usual please'. you simply nodded and went to search for the post it on the counter to look for their orders, the only issue was that you didn't know any of their names so you didn't really know what order went with who.

well you could figure out the eccentric raventte easily as he wanted it extra sweet and you could take an effective guess that the blonde man would want the order that simply read 'black coffee' but the other three were a bit difficult. you eventually managed to guess that the two part order belonged to the duo and had managed to overhear the name 'dazai' while making the orders and assumed that would be the brunette. now you just had to finish making the orders.

if kunikida didn't have half the patience he did, he reckoned he would have jumped across the table and beat dazai senseless already. he knew his coworker was a bit of a slacker and easily would be distracted with the idea of asking a woman to perform 'double-suicide' with him but today was just not the day to deal with him. kunikida could take a guess that it didn't help that you were new, he didn't want you to quit your job because dazai was an idiot - the whole reason they were here was to talk about the tiger case but dazai really couldn't keep his focus.

your cheery voice broke him out of his thoughts and he thanked you for dealing with them, you smiled back and went to clear up the empty cups left by the previous patron. eventually they managed to finalise a plan and decided to report back to the office to set out, unfortunately both dazai and ranpo seemed to forgets you were a new waitress and left as usual expecting you to immediately add it to their tab. kunikida sighed and noticed how you looked slightly panicked taht they just left so he let tanizaki and naomi go ahead and he walked over to you behind the counter.

'the agency has a tab set up, please exuse their rude behaviour' he explained and you slowly remembered the owner explaining something about that so you went to check. kunikida glanced over and asked out of pure concern 'do you know how to access it?' you smiled and responded 'i remember being told how, give me a second and i'll remember'. kunikida waited until you managed to add to their tab and informed you that he'd send them back down to apologise and you only stiffled a laugh before adding 'no need, i should've remembered who you guys were'.

you left during lunch and greeted the other waitress when she came in as you left, you greeted her again when you joined her for the closing shift. the last customer was a dark haired woman, she spotted you when you came in and introduced herself as yosano - one of the other agency members. she told you how she heard about the morning mishap and told you that you might have to get used to them behaving like that, then she left and informed you that she'd be the unfortunate recipient of their presnce soon.

your next shift was another early one, this time your first customers where the same brunette you know knew for sure was dazai, the duo which you again now knew as tanizaki and naomi, kunikida and a new white haired boy. you were lucky enough that the other waitress was there with you this time and she offered to take the table - you looked away to clean out a few cups and by the time you looked back kunikida had smacked dazai over the head and the other waitress walked away from dazai. she smiled at you before telling you that you should ignore anything dazai said to you. you stared at her with confusion.

within the first couple of weeks you had grown quite accustomed to working at the café - and unfortunately came to learn what the other waitress warned you about with dazai. the agency members all had their unique quirks and you didn't know if you should be proud that you knew their orders off by heart, over patrons were also equally nice to talk to but the agency were the most common guest. you had almost forgotten completely about your attempts to find another job and most of the messages you got back from places offering interviews were forgotten - the café was a job that you even considered working full time sometimes.

if you had to pick a favourite agency member, you'd probably have to say kunikida. from day one, he had helped you with the slight inconveniences some of the agnecy members gave you when they visited - mainly dazai and ranpo and sometimes kenji but that was when he tried bringing one of his cows into the café. kunikida was also quite the good listener and talker, it felt unprofessional at first when you starrted telling him about how you ended up in yokohama but he did ask you how you landed the job and seemed to show genuine interest. you also enjoyed listening to him talk about some of the agency's stories while you closed up for the night.

kunikida always seemed to visit later at night or early in the morning. if it was early in the morning he would be accompanied by a few agency members and he would order a black coffee, if it was before closing he would sit on the chairs at the counter and have - depending on his day - either another black coffee or simply a glass of water. kunikida didn't really notice how much he visited the café during your shifts until dazai pointed it out to him obnoxiously loud in the café while you were within hearing distance, you either pretended not to hear or were too engrossed in a task to notice.

although after dazai pointed it out, kunikida really couldn't help but read his book of ideals and think about you. sure you didn't cross of all the requirements for his ideal lover but this was the first time he felt like he could make a few exceptions. maybe it was the fact that you were so hardworking that helped attract him to you initially and maybe it was your personality that kept him longing for another interaction. he would always ask you about your plans for the future and whenever you told him you were still looking for a job it pained him for some reason but for the time being you always assured him you had no plans on leaving soon.

it got so painstakingly obvious to over members of the agency that kunikida was in fact pining for you, that yosano told him to pack his ideals to the side and ask you out before it was too late. the only issue was that kunikida wasn't sure on how to go about it and he could only think of one way, one really cringey way that was going to be something yosano and dazai would forever tease him with.

you watched kunikida enter through the café's door and you smiled at him before taking a drink to another customer, you swiftly returned to behind the counter and said 'what will it be today hm? let me guess a coffee?' he let a small smile crack his face before he nodded and hesitantly added 'yeah, but it'd like it with a few sugars today'

'what gives huh?' you questioned and almost liked he'd rehearsed this exact scenario he answered immediately 'i just reckon it's time to add something sweeter to my life'. you would normally brush this off but he was sttaring at you so intently that you, felt a bit confused, you also swore you saw a faint blush on his face. 'what do you mean kunikida?' he let out a long sigh before looking back at you directly 'you don't mean..' you trailed off slightly before taking a full understanding of the situation. you smiled and responded confidently 'well maybe i should try adding a handsome blonde man into my life' you laughed as he deadpanned at you. eventually he started looking a bit more hopeful

'does this mean-'

'if you want it be kuni, because i know i want us to be'

akutasoda's 1k event

[gurugirl]

Cop!harry Masterlist

Ordered oldest to newest

Warning: All of these have adult content (warnings listed in each post) - proceed with caution. This au is filled with toxic behavior and unhealthy relationship ideals. Please keep that in mind before proceeding.

How To Get Out of a Ticket* (2.7k words)

You’re on vacation in London and get pulled over by Officer Styles - and you’ll do anything to get out of a ticket - all blurbs and check-ins below are part of this AU

Check-in 1* (3.4K words) ↓

you call Harry for another round before you head back to the US from your vacation

Check-in 2* (2.3k words) ↓

Harry buys you a ticket to see him in London bc he misses you

Blurb ask* (520 words) ↓

you send Harry a video of you two fucking from your last visit to London

Blurb ask (150 words) ↓

Harry misses you and he has plans

Blurb ask* (945 words) ↓

the first time Harry texted you after you left London has you surprised and sending him nudes

Check-in 3* (3.6k words) ↓

request: you go on a date and Harry gets very jealous

Blurb ask* (1k words) ↓

Harry has sex with you in his house while his wife is away

Blurb ask (900 words) ↓

Cop!harry’s wife is pissed and here’s the fallout after yn & Harry are caught

Blurb ask* (219 words) ↓

the one where Harry has a breeding kink

Check-in 4* (1.5k words)↓

reader request: Harry spots you at the bar wearing something cute and slutty and he takes you to the corner for some privacy away from prying eyes

Check-in 5 (1.5k words) ↓

reader request: you're sick and Harry doesn't realize it at first but then he jumps into action to take care of you

Blurb ask* (936 words) ↓

reader request: harry brings you to work and fucks you in a jail cell

Check-in 6* (2.3k words) ↓

reader request: you defied harry by not telling him something so he's happy to allow you to keep your mouth shut if that's what you want

The Halloween Call - check-in 7* (3.5k words)

Harry takes a call to check out the scene of crime at an old abandoned house, well known as the Slaughter House with a grim history.

[cowboylikelils]

Hi!!

Saw your Lover and I'm soo excited!!

Could you do dbatc for remus? Where he ends things with reader after he attacked animal-form reader and caused them a thousand couple of cuts(😉😉)? And yk he's scared and blames himself etc.. you do your thing tbhh it could be for wtv reason they break it off but i thought since cuts and he's a werewolf it would connect but again!! You do it your way🥰

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐒 - remus lupin

words: 1k+ warning: use of Y/N, break up

a/n: this took me like 2 days to write </3 cuz ive never written anything for remus before. anyways enjoy!

You said it was a great love One for the ages But if the story's over Why am I still writing pages?

Remus woke up in the dark and cold room of the Shrekinh Shacks. His body was sore and covered in little scratches. He looked around to see that his friends weren't there. 

His friends are always here when he wakes up. He noticed a little note on the table, picked it up, and read it. 

'we've taken Y/N to the Hospital Wing, don't worry. Come in when you wake up'

His face scrunched up in confusion. Why were you in the Hospital Wing? Did he hurt you?

He grabbed his clothes and put it on. He hurriedly ran to the Hospital Wing, ignoring the pain in his body. 

The Hospital Wing was open so he ran inside, to see the remaining Marauders whispering in the corner of the room. 

"Remus!" James exclaimed when he saw the boy. Madam Pomfrey rushed to his side, pulling him to the nearest bed. 

The witch kneeled by his side and checked on his wounds. "Where's Y/N?" 

"She's resting, Mr Lupin. It's not your fault. Your... condition won't affect her," She gave Remus a potion and made him lie down to rest. 

"Hey, Remus," Sirius greeted, standing by the bed. "Where's Y/N?" He asked again. 

The raven-haired boy pointed to the bed next to him, but the curtains were closed. "She's in there," 

"What happened?" Remus asked, his hand fiddling anxiously. "You don't remember?" James asked, slightly surprised. 

Remus shook his head. "You scratched her on the leg. But it's not deep enough to get the... wolf thing into her. Will leave a scar though," Peter said carefully, knowing how Remus could get easily angry after the full moon. 

"What? I-is she fine?" Remus panicked "Calm down, she'll be fine. She's asleep, and probably won't wake up in a few days. Lost a lot of blood," 

"Don't take it too hard on yourself, okay? We have to go to class. We'll be back before dinner," The boys left to get to class. 

A few days later, Remus was allowed to go back to class, but still had to do daily check ins and take potions every day. 

As always, he went back to the Hospital Wing to take his potion after dinner. He knocked on the door before going in. 

He noticed Madam Pomfrey running around before realizing that your curtains were opened. You were sitting up on the bed, waiting patiently for her.

Your eyes light up at the sight of Remus. "Oh, Remus! Your potion is on the bedside table, can you take that for me dear?" She pointed at the potion by your bedside table. 

He hesitated but obeyed anyway. "Hey," He greeted awkwardly as you smiled sweetly at him. He drank the potion, taking a second to cringe at the weird taste.

"How are you?" He asked, sitting on his previous bed. "Good," You shrug. "Does it hurt?" 

"A bit. It's healing now. Should be fine after a week," He sighed at your bandaged leg. You noticed the concerned look on his face. "Remus? I don't care, okay? I know what I was getting into when I turned into an animagus," You tried to explain. 

"No, but I hurt you," He said, harsher than he meant to be. "Look, it's fine-" 

He shook his head, his eyes filled with tears. It hurts him to see you like this. And it's because of him. 

"I can't do this anymore, Y/N. I can't" You frowned. "What's wrong?" 

"It’s- It’s too dangerous for you, Y/N. I- I’m sorry,” He sighed, not making eye contact with you. “Are you breaking up with me?” He nodded. 

“I’m sorry,” He said, before standing up and leaving. You were about to stand up as well but then remembered your leg was still bandaged, not being able to move a lot. You groaned in frustration, leaning back in your bed.

It has been months since you two were broken up. Your leg has fully healed, and you were now able to walk normally. You and Remus hadn’t talked since. You were busy keeping up with homework and even when you made time to talk to him, he just kept disappearing. 

The boys had told you to not worry about it, that they would talk to him. Every time you saw him, he just ignored you or went somewhere else. You were upset at him, of course. You had thought about moving on, but you just couldn’t foret him. 

One day, while making your way to Divination class, your eyes met his. He looked away quickly as if he never saw you. 

“Remus!” You ran after him, he started to walk away faster but you caught up. “Remus, wait,” You grabbed his arm. “We need to talk,” He stopped, turning back to look at you quietly. He kept silent, a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“Why did you break up with me? I know what I signed up for, I know the dangers and I still want to be with you,” You said, letting his arm go. Remus looked back at you, his face filled with guilt. “I’m a monster, Y/N, I can’t take it, I can’t stand hurting you again. You mean too much to me,”

“What? So if you accidentally hurt James, Sirius, or Peter… You just cut them all out?” He sighed “It’s different. If I hurt them, I get what I deserve. But you’re too precious to get dragged into this thing,” He explained, looking down. “But I want to be with you, please… Give me a chance,” I almost begged, my hand going to carcass his face. He raised a hand up to stop me but didn’t let my hand go. “Why would you want to be with a monster?” 

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, Remus. I love you okay? Simply just because of that,” 

You loved him? Still? After everything that happened?

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, you didn’t want to. But you did and I don’t blame you for it,” You gave him a reassuring smile. “We can start over, can’t we?” You closed the distance between you and Remus. 

His hand went to your waist, pulling you closer. He seemed to be convinced by your words, his eyes shined with hope. “C-can I kiss you?” He said hesitantly. You chuckled, nodding.

 “Yes. Yes, you can,”

[mostlymaudlin]

just read every single one of your fics and prompts. ur so good i literally love everything you’ve ever written ever. would you be able to write (or recommend if you don’t fancy writing it) some wymack just being so good to neil and or andrew? being there for them, understanding them, i love parental wymack

hi anon 🧡 ty for being so nice!!! it has been a while since you asked this question, sorry. ive read a lot of excellent portrayals of wymack, but i don’t know that i could name any fics that really focus on this? as you probably know, i wrote one wymack pov fic, but it’s still mostly about andreil hahaha.

ANYWAY. i know you said parental, but i was kinda thinking abt the very unique role he serves. And I did write a little scene abt Andrew’s midnight break-ins to Wymack’s apartment 🤪 cw for vague mentions of past abuse/self-harm.

rated t, <1k

“And here’s the real kicker, Coach.”

Wymack is fairly certain that the information Andrew is about to deliver will not be the kicker. He’s fairly certain that it will only lead Andrew to another line of outrage about the thing he is always rattling on about these days when he breaks into Wymack’s liquor cabinet: Neil Josten.

“He doesn’t even listen to music!” Andrew says. “I know you see him running on that treadmill too, eyes glazed over like a goddamn zombie. I heard Boyd offer to let him borrow his iPod, and he went, ‘oh, no thanks, I don’t listen to music.’ And Boyd kept pushing him, trying to find out if he liked an obscure genre or something. But he is ambivalent to it. Be honest, Coach — did he grow up in some kind of satanic cult? Is he brainwashed? Is he going to hear some code word and go ape shit on us?”

Andrew is lying on his back on the sofa, dirty boots on the arm rest and a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand. He’d made significant progress on it before Wymack even got home, and Wymack can see it flushing his cheeks and ringing around his eyes.

Wymack has dealt with a lot of fucked up kids, but in some ways, Andrew is one of the most difficult. It’s not the violence or the bad manners or the obstinance — Wymack can deal with that shit all day long.

It’s nights like this that make Andrew such a challenge in Wymack’s head: Why does Andrew come here? What is he looking for? What has Wymack done to earn this frankly irritating privilege — and how can he make sure he doesn’t squash it?

Andrew doesn’t talk to anyone. Betsy doesn’t tell Wymack much about the kids, but even she has expressed worry at the layers of repression Andrew seems to hold.

But sometimes here, between casting Neil in various villainous roles or complaining about Kevin or stating his grievances with Palmetto State’s meal options, Andrew drops in something real. A comment about getting slapped by a foster mother. A crude joke about the scars Wymack already knows are on his arms. Hints toward some kind of big secret that Andrew seems to dangle in the air between.

It’s always casual. It always feels like a test. Wymack doesn’t know if he passes or fails — Andrew always just finds his next tangent and moves on.

Wymack rubs his temples. He must take too long to offer a grunt to indicate he’s listening, because Andrew looks over to where Wymack sits in his armchair.

“I don’t think Neil is religious,” Wymack finally offers.

“But would we really know?” Andrew asks. He sighs, dramatic, turning his head away again. “He doesn’t add up.”

“He’s hiding things,” Wymack agrees. “So is everyone else on the team.”

“Yes, but everyone else on the team isn’t as interesting.” Andrew brings the bottle to his lips again. “He’s a threat. But it would be less of a problem if he wasn’t so nice to look at. It’s very distracting.”

Well. Wymack didn’t see that coming.

Maybe he should have.

Andrew keeps his eyes on the ceiling, but the air is charged as he waits for Wymack’s reaction. Wymack holds in a heavy breath.

“Maybe you’re looking so much that you’re seeing stuff that isn’t there,” Wymack says.

“Ha,” Andrew says, but there’s little amusement in his voice. He tips his face toward Wymack, pointing with the bottle in his hands. “That’s a good one, Coach. But no. He’s definitely up to something, and I’m going to figure it out. How far is Millport from Area 51?”

“Far enough,” Wymack says.

Andrew hums. “He’s pretty fast. Maybe he escaped containment there and ran.”

Wymack snorts. “Report back when you’ve exhausted that theory. Preferably not in the middle of the fucking night.”

Andrew laughs. It’s not a joyful sound, but it’s familiar.

The are boundaries he’s supposed to maintain, and he knows Andrew wouldn’t want to have rules bent for him. The minute Wymack gives Andrew an open-door policy, he’ll never see him again. He’ll never get to see if he’s passing Andrew’s tests — he’ll never figure out if there’s something he can do.

So he’ll play the role. It’s not hard — he’s old and grumpy and tired. He’ll listen to Andrew bitch, even when it’s about these other kids whose names weigh heavy in his chest.

Maybe it will pay off, maybe it won’t. But this is the job. He has to be okay with these odds — they’re the best he’s going to get.

[abibliophobiaa]

Congrats on 1k, babe!! It’s what you deserve and so much more 🤍 for the requests could I get Eddie Munson with some fluff and Crave by Paramore for inspiration?

Thank you, my dear! Here’s some fluffy Eddie || #Lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙 — to submit a prompt.

-

He wanted this for so long.

He supposed, if he had to think about it, it started with your constant stops into the shop. Not by your own doing, of course. Your car had a pension for ruining your day. Flat tire on the side of the road that required a tow? An issue when your alternator decided to stop working. That ker-plunk of your exhaust hitting the ground one day after hitting a rowdy pothole. The screech of protest from your aging brakes.

You were all quiet smiles standing in the dim lightning of that vestibule. Jeans stretched over crossed thighs while you waited and read one of the crappy magazines the owner left around. Laughter, when one of the other waiting patrons asked what brought you here, and you mentioned it was your third time this month.

“Just can’t get you out of my hair, can I?” Eddie chuckled, dirty hands, baseball cap turned backwards on his head. Your head lifted suddenly, like you hadn’t expected him to speak, and he shrunk away, worried he’d offended you.

But the secret was, after that first time you’d stumbled into the auto repair center, snow slicked over the hood of your jacket and your too-big knit cap, he’d craved those run ins. Wondered when the next time he’d see you would be. He hated that your car had to break down for it to happen, but he craved it all the same.

So it shocked him when you walked over to pay for your latest service, voice bright as you said, “I’ll be out of your hair soon. I’m getting a new car this weekend. Figured it was about time I retired this one.”

His head spun, because that would mean he wouldn’t see you. Wouldn’t look up when that door bell jangled and see you standing there, brightening the often monotonous shop days. So, naturally, he really couldn’t help the words that spilled out next. The way his heart thudded and he swallowed thickly, blurting, “Grab dinner with me sometime?”

His heart pounded, ‘cause what the fuck was he thinking?

But you’d smiled, wide and pretty, eyes light. “Sure, Eddie. I’d like that.”

It had been movies and dinner that next weekend. Fingers that had at first accidentally brushed over shared popcorn, and then intentionally sought warmth of another palm. It was the smile he gave you over the top of his dinner menu—the way you’d brushed your hair behind your ear and glanced away, bashful and pretty, that first date nervousness bubbling.

He���d felt it too.

It was the promise of next weekend shared over a slow kiss at your door. The kind that made his stomach leap, ringed fingers sliding over the contours of your face. He wanted to memorize every detail, that craving to do this all over again, this night, this moment, this kiss with this girl all over again.

One date turned to two, then three, and soon it was movie nights in curled on your small couch, his hand in yours as you strolled in the park, heated kisses in the back of the van, where whispered screamed into quiet spaces, bellies full from dinner, hearts fuller from the company.

And yeah, maybe his car broke down on your way to dinner one night. And maybe it had been raining as he lifted the hood of his car and peered at you through the windshield, but you both laughed all the same, because car troubles brought you here, and now that’s where you would remain.

[ink-n-shadowfiction]

i have this headcanon where although they’re one body, ghost and simon are completely different when they fuck you.

warning: smut below (minors—DNI), soft dom!simon, hard!dom ghost, switch!simon (kinda oops)

simon would take his time, lavishing his tongue across every bit of exposed skin on your body while he hummed soft praises.

“look at you, sweetheart. all this f’me? fuckin’ hell, m’honored. shhh, shhh, m’not hurrying up. let me take my time with this body, yeah? sit pretty f’me and enjoy it.”

ghost, however, would be anything but patient. he wouldn’t even bother undressing you or himself completely, leaving the mask covering his mouth and scoffing at your annoyed words.

“aye—m’not kissin’ you. mask stays on, yeah? now shut the fuck up and let me take what i need. no, m’not taking ‘em all the way off. i don’t need them all the way off to fuck my cock into you—down on your thighs is good enough.”

simon would be such switch, but especially right before he cums. he definitely whimpers (i will take no questions on this).

“f-fuck—m’close, m’so. fucking. close. no, no, no—don’t make me…don’t make me hold it. baby, please. i can’t—oh fuck, I can’t hold it…”

ghost, on the other hand, is typically the exact opposite. he’s a hard dom/top who growls and snarls in your ear (slightly muffled beneath the mask).

“stop squirmin’. take what i’m fuckin’ giving you. fuck—yeah, that’s it. don’t sound so tough now, d’ya? where’s all that sass from earlier? just needed me to roughen you up a bit and put you back in your place, hmm?”

simon would call you every sweet pet name in the book: sweetheart/sweetpea, darling, pretty thing, baby/babe, angel, dove.

ghost would call you every filthy name he could think of on the spot: pet, slut, whore, a bitch in heat, brainless thing.

it's crazy what a difference a mask and some tactical gear could do to a man.

[carnal-lnstinct]

Smutember 2022 - Day 5 Don't Get Caught

Title: Risky Business ☆☆ Pairing: Goku ( SS4 ) x Human Female Reader ☆☆ Word Count: 1k+ ☆☆ Contents: ( M / 18+. MINORS DNI. au: gt timeline, humor, established relationship, reader is gohan and goten's mother ) ☆☆ Warning: ( explicit language, risky kitchen quickie )

The serving spoon slips from your grasp onto the cooling stove, the warmth of the fresh awaiting food rising to your face as a shivery moan melts through your lips. You bite into your bottom lip to suppress your voice from carrying any further. There was so much of yourself you lose to him when he gets like this and from so little effort on his part as of late. But the outcome was such a thrill, the love so rewarding. Modest or otherwise, it was worth every second with your husband.

Now, however, was not the time.

"You want to do this now?" Falls from your trembling lips in a hushed whimper. The warmth around you couldn't match the heat pressed into your bare skin where Goku's nose was buried, nor his hot tongue dragging across the goosebumps in the crook of your neck. His form enlarged from his transformation was heavy with the scent of his training and pressed so close against your backside, he was not shy to show his eagerness to have you despite the circumstances. Already, his hand found itself between your legs and was stroking through the thin layer of your underwear to mess with your slit while his golden leer hangs over your shoulder watching you.

His smile grows across your skin, Goku delights. "You just smell especially good today." He answers in a gentle tone. As a matter of fact, since obtaining the Super Saiyan 4 form you have only ever smelled pleasing to him. So potent to his senses that if he weren't careful he could lose himself in it. Even surrounded by your beloved cooking, smothering you with his own scent felt necessary for your sake and his. It made his tail swing with joy. He can't help but feel excited about anything that got his blood pumping. There was no telling if he was drooling because of the freshly cooked food or the desire to bury himself inside your warmth. His vigorous fingers brushing over your clothed clit gave more intrigue to the latter.

"Y-You can't... keep doing this after you train with Vegeta." You feebly protested while showing no signs of defying the pleasure coursing through you. "Goten is-...he's right there Goku-" Your breath hitched at your underwear being stretched to the side to let his bear fingers spread the wet coating through your bloom. "-He's expecting his dinner a-any minute."

Your youngest son was just a wall away, a slip of a forbidden sound away, already seated at the dinner table and most likely too engrossed in his phone to mind your delay or Goku's powerful ki. To his discretion, Goten's been pretty adult about how openly affectionate you and Goku have been lately but he has experienced enough awkward encounters with you two in the build-up and aftermath of your "super saiyan relations". It comes with the territory of still living with one's parents, but your privacies are your own, and that caution prior to Goku's transformation was exercised very well. Goten was just thankful to not find you both in a manner that would scar him. But this was cutting it close. Almost a deliberate breach of trust on the unspoken agreement.

Obviously, none of you expected Goku to obtain this higher state of being or could you have predicted his interest in your body to become almost compulsive as a side effect, making this all the more difficult to be subtle. Let alone how handsomely the form suited him. There were no complaints from you when he favored your company at any given moment, yet the order of this chaos needed to be reestablished before Goten wandered in looking for his dinner.

—At least that was what you tried to do. It was too late to take back your willpower now, not with Goku's large fingers nestled deep inside your warmth and edging you closer to climax. You were fighting just to keep your voice inside your throat and breath at the same time. How the beastly saiyan husked in your ear as he humps his freed cock against your ass with his sharpened canines scratching your delicate skin made your legs weak. Right about now, Goku would have you powerless from absorbing that heavy ki of his and begging him to rough you up with those fangs, but thankfully his training has made him more guarded in the control of his ki.

It was his other senses that were drunk and loose to whatever felt good right now. You tilting your head back into him and exposing your neck and cleavage was no help. Hearing Goten's ringtone from the dining room was like a song of salvation to drive his impulses free. Once Goten was on that phone, he could waste hours in an oblivious spell talking on it. Goku knew he could be a little less careful and wasted no time then.

He leans his exposed chest against you and replaces his wet fingers with his strong cock, able to pick up the pace where his fingers left off. How much deeper he stretched your insides made you muffle a squeal with pursed lips. You had to adjust yourself as he was already making the most of opening you up, spreading your legs just a little wider to take his cock more comfortably. One of your hands fumbles across the stove to brace yourself only to knock the serving spoon onto the floor. Hoping that wouldn't draw any attention. Your other hand clasped over your mouth to mask your voice as lips alone was no longer enough.

You both took comfort in the inflections of Goten's voice sounding like he was stationary and engrossed in his phone call, none the wiser to what was going on just a few steps away. The suspense of it all was starting to get to you. Not that you want your son to see you like this, but with yours and Goku's blood pumping and affections so bold and forthcoming it made your heart race in the excitement. That you could lose yourself in your pleasure in spite of the consequences of getting caught fucking in the kitchen. Right now you should all be sitting at the dinner table eating like a family, you would be reprimanding Goten for using his phone at the table and warning Goku to chew his food before he chokes. Instead, you're trying to keep your voice behind your hand with your sweet spot being brushed against repeatedly, you're pressing your hips back into Goku to muffle the wet smack of his thrusts into you, and you want to cum so bad.

Sacrificing his own vigilance to fuck out his orgasm, Goku wraps his arms around your waist and quickens his pumps into your tight walls sucking in his cock. When he straightens, he practically lifts you off your feet and bounces you up and down his length to better meet his movements. With the warmth of his breath on the shell of your ear and his tail wrapped around your thigh, it was impossible to see yourself anywhere but a place where he could be this wild and free with you, and you could let your body fall into the heat of bliss without shame. When Goku leans forward with you again you end up sinking under the pleasure. Both of you fucking to cum in this squatted position with his heated grunts filling the kitchen.

"Really? Sure, That'd be fun!... Yeah, I could make it with some time to spare." Goten's voice comes over the corner of the entrance before he suddenly appeared before your eyes. The lustful haze shatters and it all came to a frightening halt when your youngest wandered by the kitchen threshold. With his cell phone held up to his ear, it was the only blockage that spared his peripherals the sight of his parents' awkward position. You and Goku are frozen like gargoyles and wide, startled eyes staring down the entrance before Goten completely passed by with an ecstatic response to the other end of the call. You both watch as his voice doesn't seem to dwindle for the longest seconds of your life. It was then you hear his footsteps from further down the hall and he calls out to you.

"Hey mom, I gotta run out to meet someone! You can wrap my dinner up!" Goten announces from the front door of your home, then corrected himself to ask. "I-I mean, if it's okay? It's really important if I go right now! Or I'll miss a big opportunity! Please!" You can hear the excited rattling on the locks from here as if he was going to bolt out the door anyways. You took advantage of the opportunity, clearing your throat and fixing your voice to mimic a calm disposition.

"D-Don't be out too late, then. No excuses Goten!"

A joyful "yes!" and the front door opens and closes shut behind him. Both you and Goku huff out a sigh of relief. What a miracle.

Before he knew it, Goku then felt the wooden spoon whack him square between the eyes, clenched in your grasp with an annoyed expression present on your face. Forced to let you go and nurse the unexpected blow, you wiggle yourself free and stumble up onto your feet, turning to face him with an embarrassed glow on your cheeks. Or is that just the flush of lust still in them? "That was too close, Goku! You are getting out of hand!" You fussed, waving the spoon at him. He sinks down onto his bottom with a pained groan.

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself." He answers, lifting his head to you with a sheepish, guilty smirk. He doesn't regret it. You didn't seem to hate it up until this point. Even if it was ruined, it was still an enjoyable moment between you. He has come to like unwinding from training this way. The Super Saiyan 4 training felt more complete that way. Truthfully, it was going to take more than a serving spoon to deter him from his heightened attraction for his wife. He'll just be certain to pick his "sneak attacks" more carefully.

[niphredil-14]

Your work is inspiring in a way. I don’t know who else you write for, but I know for sure that Leo is definitely one of them. And since this is the case, I will also choose it. I would like to know what will happen if he has a partner who is very affectionate and caring. Like Hey, he probably has a lot of nightmares after the Kraang incident. And just imagine how the reader cuddles Leo after another nightmare and either hums a lullaby or just listens to what he says. The dude will really feel bad, and then his man who was sleeping next to him woke up and gives him hugs and calms him down while Leo is in this vulnerable state.

sorry this took so long. Life's been crazy, word count: 1k warnings: nightmares reader is referred to as leo's partner, but if you squint this could be seen as platonic, if you think of them as roommates

THE WEIGHT WE CARRY

The only lighting in the room was a harsh blue light creeping in from underneath the crack below the door. It was small. But more than enough to cast haunting shadows throughout the room. The bed was just large enough for the two of them, and the only other things in the room were a dirty, cracked mirror, a small desk, and a trunk filled with clothes, gear, and weapons. A single pair of shoes were placed by the door. They laid awake for some time, listening to their partner’s breathing. It had been more even than it usually was during his slumber, an oddity only matched by the fact that while the leader beside them slept soundly, they were left awake. It was normally the other way around, with Leonardo never getting quite enough rest, while they would retire early and rise late, usually sleeping soundly unless awoken by their partner. Leonardo despised waking them, and never would while he was in his right mind, but “right mind” are hardly words fitting for his post-nightmare states. Ripped from his terrors, unable to shake the memories replayed, he would gently shake them awake, just so that he could confirm that they were not yet dead, that he hadn’t failed them too.

But tonight was different, and they wanted little more than to shake Leon awake, and beg for some attention. They refused to cave to their desires, however, knowing that their love never got the sleep that he deserved, and after acknowledging how selfish of an act it would be to wake him, they contented themselves with turning onto their side to gaze upon him. Time had been cruel to him, and the years showed on the wrinkled skin over his browbone, and the crow’s feet jutting out from his eyes, but it never made him any less handsome than when the two of them were younger. They were sure that they were no easier on the eyes after the atrocities that the apocalypse had brought. They both carried weights of their own, and it showed, though there was a beauty and a romance to the ability to acknowledge having experienced hardship.

It must have been hours that they laid there, unmoving out of fear of waking the light-sleeper beside them. His breathing was consistent, until it wasn’t. All of a sudden, the pattern of steady ins-and-outs broke, and he inhaled sharply, letting it out quickly, and all at once, pushing a large gust out. And they watched the skin over his browbones wrinkle and pucker as his breathing became more and more unsteady. It was hard for them to believe as they thought about it, but they had never actually seen him have a nightmare. They always slept through it, only being awoken after he was. It was a heartbreaking sight, such a strong, resilient man, crying in his sleep over things that they could not fight off. He was always the protector, and the most that they had ever been able to do was pick up the shattered and scattered pieces of him, and try to tape them back together. In watching, they debated what to do, and after some inner conflict, came to a conclusion. This time, they would do more than comfort him after he had fought through his terrors, this time, they would rescue him, and pull him from the depths of his torment. He would not need to pull himself out of hell alone this time. They swore to themselves as the placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and began to shake. They were leaning up, resting on one of their forearms, as they continued to shake, softly calling out to him.

“Leon? Leon?” They voice, though gentle, was slightly raspy from lack of sleep. “Leo, wake up!” Their calls became a chant, until, moments later, Leon shot up, eyes wild and shoulders raising up and falling down, rushed and frantically, with his breath. They sat, ready, beside him, a hand on his shoulder as he realized where he was, safe in their room. Upon realizing, his head whipped to them, his body not falling far behind. He grabbed them, pulling them close, and checking them all over. In the midst of being lovingly manhandled, they managed to get their hands beside his neck. They gently cupped the nape with one hand, and his jaw with the other, pulling his attention away from checking them for nonexistent injuries.

Their name rushed from his lips in one large exhale, the aftermath of a hard punch to the gut. The pain was absent, but the fear and adrenaline stood, their heavy, cruel claws keeping a grasp on him from the shadows, the only place their dastardly grip couldn’t reach were the places covered by his partner’s hands.

“Leo,” They spoke, voice just barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly at them, signaling that they had his attention. “We are in our room, at the base, we are okay.” His eyes never left theirs, and they could see his irises shaking. They waited a moment to let their words sink in before speaking again. “We are safe.” Their voice was still soft, but there was a force there, that said that every word that left their mouth was fact, that nothing they said could be disputed. They grabbed his hand, and moved it to their chest, right over their heart. “We are alive.” He applied slight force, pushing on their chest, as if trying to hold their heart, as his eyes left theirs to rake all along their form, trying to confirm the validity of their statements.

“Yeah.” He breathed out. “Yeah, we’re okay. Okay.” He visibly calmed, though was still a bit jittery. Sensing that he was a little better, they began to slowly move, much like one would move around a frightened animal, so as not to make him think that they were leaving. With microscopic movements, they reclined, laying down, and softly pulling him with them. The caring part of them wanted nothing more then to pull him to their chest and hold him there, to be his shield, but they knew him better than that. It was always in moments of panic that he put others first. And so, they let him curl around them, shielding them, and resigned themselves to rubbing large circles on his shell, and peppering kisses anywhere on him that they could reach. Quite some time passed, without either of them falling back to sleep, simply laying there, confirming one another’s presence.

“Leon?” They called out, their voice, though hushed, ringing throughout the room.

“Hmm?” He responded, lazily.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

[espinosaurusrexex]

Hey girl! Hope you are doing good and also love all your work 🥰 for the bingo card could you please do ari levinson with touch starved? Like imagine where he was just this grumpy man w everyone else but when u got him alone oh my lord that beefy man was just in need of some love 🥺🥺����🥺

thank you so much that is so sweet of you to sayyy 🥰💗 this got a little steamy towards the end... sorry not sorry

Touch Starved (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

Hunky(he’s always hunky but still)!Ari x Reader because I can

word count: 1k

warnings: grumpy!Ari (but not to you he's very sweet), fluff, a lot of touching (obviously), allusions to smut

It wasn’t easy being with Ari Levinson. At least that’s what everyone thought. He was grumpy and mean 90% of the time. He didn’t like being around people, and he despised seeing couples do PDA in front of him. How could they? The audacity...

And everyone avoided tempting him because of how intimidating he could be.

But it was simple, really. Ari just needed to be loved. He needed to be touched, more specifically. He just didn’t know it. You hadn’t either. You had just always been a very affectionate person: hugging people, kneading shoulders, playing with fingers, ruffling and braiding hair, and tracing skin. It was a habit, one that you pursued with everyone around you - including Ari. 

And when you first laid your hands on him, he senses something magical in your touch. Everyone around you had gone quiet when your arms landed around Ari’s broad shoulders. They had been sure you would be signed off this friend group faster than Rachel had introduced you. But while everyone was holding their breath, waiting for Ari to explode in front of them, you just felt his arms reach around you and squeeze you tight. 

“It’s nice to meet you, dove.” He’d said with a voice so silky you melted into his chest. 

Everyone was surprised. There was no yelling, no gruff looks or growling, no angry storming out and no eye rolls. Ari was smiling over your shoulder before his nose buried in the smell of your hair, his touch lingering with a gentle kiss on your cheek that day. 

Rachel had talked to you about it as soon as she noticed the change in her friend. But you never knew what she was talking about. Whenever you were around, Ari was the sweetest most relaxed person in the room. You thought he let you play with his hair, and trace his arms because that was who he was. But little did you know that it was because of your touch, he would become that way.

“It’s as if he’s switching bodies when he’s with you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile like that.” Rachel huffed in her cocktail as you replied to Ari’s wave across the room with a smile. “I don’t know...” You turned back to her. “Maybe he just likes me better.”

Rachel wouldn’t complain. It was nice seeing her scary friend let the frown fall for once. So, who was she to risk a comeback of hunky grumpy when the soft Ari was a thousand times more fun?

Ari hadn’t noticed it at first. It immediately seemed natural to act like this around you. He questioned the weird looks Sammy and Kabede had given him, but he didn’t change a thing. At every gathering, he sought out your touch, proximity - something that could bring him that oddly satisfying feeling deep within he’d only experienced seldom before. And he found himself disappointed when Rachel announced that you weren’t coming that day. 

He was like a programmed machine. When you weren’t there, Ari was his grumpy old self. But with you, he acted as if he’d sprung right out of a romance novel. And it was confusing for everyone else. 

But Ari and you didn’t notice it. It was natural, felt like a habit as soon as you had introduced him to it. Just like his drop-ins at your home whenever you couldn’t make it to a group hangout because of work or something else. 

The two of you would spend the evening lounging on your couch or bed, often talking deep into the night with each other’s hands buried beneath sweaters and strands of hair. You liked how responsive he was to your little habit of touching people, and Ari enjoyed the way his body eased around your affection. 

You were like a drug to him. The only provider of a feeling he was addicted to; and the fact you let him have it for something so little, a response that felt innate to him, fueled his need for your body close to his. 

“Your hair is so soft,” you’d often whisper into the darkness when your fingers scratched his scalp, another hand tracing the veins on his bicep as you lay in bed together. “I wonder how it would braid.”

And Ari would respond to your spoken thoughts with an encouraging “Why don’t you try?” and a smile so big, it hurt his face. 

You’d sit behind him on the sofa that night. Ari comfortably planted on the ground, engulfed by your thighs as he hoped your fingers in his hair would never stop working. His hands would knead your legs, big arms wrapping around whatever he could reach as he felt his heartbeat settle in a steady and calm rhythm. 

“Pretty as a prince!” You kissed to his cheek and Ari was fast to hold your face in place.

“Did you just call me pretty, dove?”

“I’m sorry, do you not like to be called pretty, boy?”

“I’d much rather be called your pretty boy.”

“That could be arranged.”

Ari grinned when he smashed his lips to yours, pulling on your arm until you shuffled around him to straddle him on the ground, hands roaming beneath his shirt, tracing his tanned abs and pulling moan after moan from his plump lips. 

“I wanna touch you,” he mumbled between breaths.

“You already are,” you breathed.

“More,” he growled, “I wanna touch you more. Need to.” His last sentence got lost in the trail of wet warm kisses he left on your neck.

A tender moan escaped your breath when your legs locked behind his back. “Then what are you waiting for?” And then Ari got up with you, his hands struggling to stay on your ass for support, as he carried you to the bedroom.

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[ihatebnha]

minor-ish spoilers for ch. 361. bakugo x reader, where in which you tell him that you think he’s attractive. 1k+ ish 

-

There’s an odd tension between you and Bakugo Katsuki. 

It is indescribable—in between something’s that’s spoken and something that is done, somewhere you know but have never been. You find, in the way you glance at each other when he walks into the agency, in how he watches you during lunch hour… and in every other second in between, you think of him and he thinks of you; a dance of sorts, that you each do from far away. 

Some would say it’s magnetic. Meant to be. Fate. You might call it curiosity… and when he called you up to his office for the first time in your little relationship, you weren’t sure whether to expect a fight or an epiphany. It doesn’t help, either, that the room crackles with warmth the second you step through the door. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you begin, wanting to ask, to soothe, before he can tell you not to, “but I’m not really sure—”

“Be quiet.” 

You hush immediately at the words as Bakugo’s eyes, one white and one red, flit to you. They are threatening, dangerous, and his lips are pressed together in a paper thin line (pout, if you were to notice the way his cheeks reddened and swelled with air) that tightens when he shifts on his chair, the creak minute but menacing as he turns to face you and then stares. 

“You know, I’m a little damn sick of you gawking at me every day like I’m some fuckin’ basket case.” 

It’s a shocking confession. Not shocking actually, given that you know he knows you stare at him quite a bit, but it’s one that surprises anyway. 

“Am I some kind of monkey to you? Needa be put in a zoo?” he continues, freezing when you let out just the slightest of laughs. “Or fucking what?”

“No… no,” rubbing a finger over your brow, sucking in a breath and trying to ignore at the way he lounges on his big, black office chair with spread thighs and clasped hands. His desk is void of everything except a tablet, a single picture frame and a neat stack of papers. “You’ve got it wrong, I think.” 

“Wrong?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and resting it on the metal knuckles of his right hand. “What the hell could someone like you ever want from a bastard like me?” 

You wonder what he means by that. 

You know he’s had his run-ins with all types of people… and things. With villains, press, the war, leaving him either physically scarred or more and more callous. You also know of the handful of people who found him after… and then decided they too didn’t want him.

But a bastard? It makes you smile, just a little bit, and the nerves that crackle now explode.

“Dunno, just…” there is that tension again, that divide between big and small, a place that exists only for you and him, where he is beautiful and you are… his, in the way attraction grows and blooms. “I think you’re really cute.” 

Bakugo frowns. 

“Fuck—Fucking… cute?” 

He doesn’t move, but you know the knows the words are deliberate, that the rope is finally ready to snap, and that you are sick of waiting for someone who you know is waiting for you, too. 

“Yeah. Handsome.”

“C’mere,” he says then, he commands, watching as you slip from the doorway into his warm office. You let out a breath, the knot in your stomach kneading wildly as he scoots back his chair as if in gestures of his lap.

“You shouldn’t… don’t say that just ‘cuz you want me to like you or some crap.” 

“Hm?” you mumble, fascinated by the creak of his desk chair as he shifts backwards to adjust to your weight, the way the wrinkled, red skin of half his face pulls when you reach to smooth your thumbs over the apple of his cheeks, and how he doesn’t even shift when your hands press downward into his heavy shoulders and you wiggle trying to steady yourself. “Don’t you think… I’m cute, too? 

He swallows underneath you, lids low, and you can feel the slight dip when he exhales; the warm breath fanning against your lips as he pauses to wet his own. His eyes flicker, and you stare right back, taking in the beauty of the faded, pink scars that wrap around the expanse of his jaw, the delicate, milky white of his right eye, and slight, but permanent curve of a scarred mouth that taunts you with every passing second. You lean forward to peck him on the lips, once light, to see that he lets you, then twice, when he does, to make sure that it counts. 

He tastes like cough drops. Menthol. Honey. Smells like ash, motor oil, Vaseline… and just the faintest bit of pineapple. He doesn’t push away, though his eyes are already open when you do. 

“Not gonna start being nice to you all for some fuckin’ flowers and magic word shit.” 

“Magic words?” you raise an eyebrow at him, your fingers sliding to brush over the shorn hair at the nape of his neck, scratching when he brings a hand to grip at the curve of your hip. He squeezes the soft flesh through your clothes, barely, as if to ask for something, as if to ask for more, as if it’s all he can do—even through the facade he so bravely puts of—and leans in close as you tease. “Poor, ol’ Dynamight. Thinking everyone’s out to get him.”

He chuffs out a laugh in response, the slightest of smirks tugging at his expression as his short nails dig into your pants and his smile brushes yours. “A lot of people are, sweetheart.” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, and he studies you as you speak, his darkened eyes low and heavy, the gears of his prosthetic arm whirring where it rests near your thigh. You tilt your head at his silence, waiting for you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in close. “But I’m not allowed to think you’re pretty?” 

Slowly, he closes his eyes, exhaling when your head leans against the metal embedded in his shoulder and your fingers start to dance along his collarbone. You press a kiss to a purple vein on his neck, feeling the beat of his heart thump rapidly against your lips, before continuing your trail upward; one on the nick on his throat, then on his fleshy jowl, and finally where the smooth skin of his jaw meets where the patchy stubble turns to scar. His fists clench tighter the further you go. 

You think he’s beautiful. 

“So you ain’t fucking with me then?” he whispers into your temple, letting the feel of you against him engulf, consume, in ways he’s not yet sure he’s ready to explore. It’s been so long since he’s last let someone touch him, see him as someone other than the veteran he’s known to be (tough as nails, cold as steel), that as far from it as he’d like to be, he is unfamiliar with the territory. Helping you shift back to your knees, his hands creep to cup your ass, and you halt your affections in surprise, making sure he catches the roll your eyes when he glares as if to ask why you’ve stopped, “Don’t think I’m too rotten for love?” 

Rotten? 

In the back of your mind, you recognize the words as an insecurity and a wound, a bearing of his soul that you swear you’ll keep safe. On the surface, though, you find yourself tickled by his strange devotion to the idea that he’s been left marred by what actually makes him more attractive… and the whole thing makes you laugh. Your tone is light thankfully, knowing, and your voice is just as warm when you smile in response 

“I’m trying to fuck you, genius,” you say, because you mean it, because deep down, he already knows; even though, with a half-laugh and raised brows, you watch the bridge of his nose wrinkle in slight disbelief. Then when he gives you blank eyes, you smooth a hand apologetically through his bangs. “But with you? Never.” 

Bakugo spends just a moment more staring at the bite of your lips before letting his fingers rise even higher to the gentle curve of your spine. When it arches, your chest pressing into his, fingers digging tight into his shoulder, he reminds himself of all the other ways you collide and the fact that you don’t seem to mind that he’s broken. 

“I told you already,” you say again, decidedly, comfortably, letting him hoist you up so that your loins finally meet the heat of his, “I think you’re really handsome.” 

[kidney9-9]

Not Today Mister - Chapter 1

very short story (hopefully) with our babe Aizawa!!

Aizawa Shouta x Reader Word Count: 1k

-

You stared blankly at the screen as you read the email once again, informing you that you had to move into UA if you wanted to keep your job there. You needed that job – to pay for your rent here, yes, but also to save up for your dream vacation (and perhaps early retirement) to an always sunny happy beach.

“I truly regret not bringing this up as a possibility sooner as I am responsible for the safety and care of all of our students and staff. Due to recent discoveries, the school board and I have agreed that it is safer to have everyone live on campus. We will now have mandatory live ins for students and teachers in separate dorm rooms. Our extra staff will have to decide to either stay on as a worker or leave here. Rooms are available for our extra staff, free of charge, and the pay is currently the same, with no adjustments. Sorry for this inconvenience.

Best regards,

Principal Nezu”

You blinked again as you looked at the time on your laptop – he sent this out at 2AM. You hummed quietly, wondering if this was real or if this was a dream, because it was certainly making you feel very excited.

All you had to do now was move in and work your regular job as one of the janitorial staff and in half the time of working there, you’d be able to go on your dream vacation in no time!

-

As it turns out, you were the only one of the janitorial staff to sign on and move into the new UA dorms. You had the floor to yourself technically since no one else had moved in during that time, but your room was cute and quaint as you decorated it, beach themed. You were the only one that didn’t have anything tied to you outside of your work that required you to be at home (or outside of work). You had already taken on most of the work before you moved in, and it was no problem.

You sighed happily as you stared into your small space.

It wasn’t quite different from your apartment that you moved out of, since your bedroom looked the exact same and now the kitchen was a communal kitchen (that you had to yourself) and a large bathroom connected to your room that definitely had more settings compared to your last apartment.

“Hello, sunny weather and sandy beaches in no time!” You cheered to yourself, pouring a glass of celebratory drink.

Just as you turned to take a sip, you heard a large “THUNK”, and you flinched, causing the drink to splatter over your face and down your shirt.

…Ah, so maybe there was one slight problem. You would have to deal with the students and other staff that lived on the other floors.

-

Waking up in your brand new room was relaxing as ever – that’s what you thought at first but then you heard it, the slight yelling a floor under you.

“HE NEEDS SOME MILK!” “SHUT UP WITH THE DAMN MEMES!”

You giggled. Okay, you could deal with that, right? Memes and some swearing from teens in the hero program. That would be no problem whatsoever. As you got ready for the day, you started to imagine all the other things you could do to the floor you had to yourself.

It could be all beach themed! That would be incredible!

Painted waves and painted palm trees on a few walls as an accent piece, some succulents in a few corners spotted with cute flowers, some seashells and beach cones on a few tables… Everything would be perfect.

When you got dressed in your usual work attire, you had a brighter smile than usual and with that, you left the room. You managed to sneak down the stairs without running into any of the students or the other staff, thankfully. But you did notice one boy was staring at you as you walked out of the building and into the first gym on your list.

You recalled his name was Midoriya Izuku, the one you cheered for as you watched the sports event on one of the many TVs in a hallway in the school.

You cleaned the first gym easily and in record time. Next, you set off to the hallway connected to the gym, cleaning the floor.

You were the only one up on this side of the school it seemed. You always had to get up extra early to clean and you were glad that no one bugged you before – and now you were glad that it hadn’t happened either!

You were almost sure that some kids would get up and try to talk to you, but they didn’t, and you were happy.

-

It was about midday when you were almost done with all your general tasks. All you had to do was clean the teachers’ lounge and then you were set to practically run free. Or as Nezu put it, “you can roam the halls to pick up anything that gets left behind! If you ever want company, please drop by! Of course, your day ends when everything is clean.”

You grinned thinking about Nezu. He was a great boss, and he always looked out for the kids.

You had dropped by once, before you moved in, to say a quick hello to him and after he shook your hand, he quickly took hold of both of them and sighed deeply – making you gape at him, confused.

“Your hands smell wonderful, and they are so very warm! Please come back again!” He told you and you laughed very hard together for so long that he ended up making you a cup of tea to go.

You reached the teachers’ lounge within a few minutes.

It was still mostly spotless compared to the last time you cleaned it, but still you did your best. You refilled the coffee cups and necessities, fluffed the pillows on each of the cozy green sofas and threw out the trash.

No one had stopped by when you were cleaning, thank goodness. You were never good at small talk.

Except, when you went to leave, you opened the door to someone standing extremely still, watching you like a predator.

It was a teacher who you knew by the pro hero’s name, Eraserhead, also known as Aizawa. He looked… angered or perhaps it was embarrassment. You couldn’t name it, but you couldn’t help but stare back at him with awe.

He was gorgeous.

So very gorgeous, to the point you might have to say he’s a 12/10. Hottie. Your jaw dropped slightly, thoughts running through your mind at top speed about this man’s beauty. You felt heat rush up to your face and before he could say anything, you knew you had to leave before you could embarrass yourself.

“Excuse me!” You tumbled out, eyes blinking rapidly now, instead of that full long stare you gave him back. Without much else, you practically pushed him out of your way and ran out of the teachers’ lounge.

You have never encountered him before. This was never an issue. You didn’t encounter many people before you moved in, which was good! But this – this would be a problem.

Aizawa Shouta, the most beautiful and most handsome man on Earth, is now your biggest dilemma and blocking you from going on your dream vacation.