#if it was just like push a button you can look however your want zero consequences physically or socially

[starrystevie]

"what's that?" dustin asks one night, eyes zeroed in on steve's chest.

confused, he glances down to where his button up has opened a bit at the neckline, not seeing anything on his skin other than the chain around his neck and bits of chest hair.

"what's what, henderson?"

the chain is simple silver, and at the bottom hidden under his shirt is a ring. he was gifted one of eddie's when they made whatever they were official. eddie let him pick, let steve trail his fingers feather light over his hands and over heavy silver until he found one he liked.

"you gonna pick one in this century?" eddie teased, looking up at him from under his lashes, smirking in the way that gives steve butterflies.

"this is an important decision," steve murmured out in a low voice, his light touch sending shivers down eddie's spine. "i can't just settle on one."

he ends up with a mood ring, one that eddie swore he only had because he needed something on his otherwise bare hand but steve knows it's because he thought it looked mysterious. sliding it off his finger is easy, placing a kiss on the pale bit of skin left behind is even easier.

it doesn't fit on his finger, not even close. he could barely squeeze it onto his pinkie but even then they had to use strawberry lube to get it off after it gets stuck.

"you don't have to wear it," eddie said, defeated with his big brown eyes breaking steve's heart into pieces.

but the thing is, steve is a little more than head over heels for him. he'd do anything to make eddie happy, make him feel loved, and being offered a ring in the first place had him feeling like he could fly. he wanted to show it off, flaunt it around like it was more than a mood ring because it was.

just because his fingers were too big didn't mean he couldn't keep the ring on him at all times. which is how he ended up with it on the simple silver chain around his neck.

the night he showed eddie for the first time, crawling up the bed shirtless to push him into the pillows with a searing kiss, was a night he wouldn't soon forget. eddie stared up at him with something that looked like love dancing behind his eyes as the ring dangled between them, glinting in the moonlight coming in through the bedroom window.

"you're wearing it?" eddie's voice was soft, reverent, as he took a hand up to cover the ring with his hand, pushing it into steve's chest right above his heart. he bent down to give eddie another kiss, relishing in the quick bite of pain that comes from the pressure of him pushing the metal into his chest.

"of course i'm wearing it, babe," steve said against his lips with a smile. "not gonna be able to get me to take it off now."

true to his word, steve never takes it off unless absolutely necessary. he wears it in his sleep, when he slides in behind eddie and curls around him. he wears it to work under his shirts, the metal warm against his skin as it thumps along with his heartbeat. he wears it around the house, when they go out on dates, when he showers. he wears it when he knows eddie will see the outline of it peeking through a tight shirt, driving him crazy.

it becomes habit for eddie to find it, fiddle with it over steve's clothes while they watch tv on the couch. they'll be pressed up against each other, limbs entwined, with his hand directly over the ring, rising and falling with every breath steve takes.

wearing it at all times, however, seems to be causing a bit of a problem. one that even dustin can see.

"don't be obtuse," he tuts as if he was chastising a child, "who gave you a bruise on your chest?"

"what are you talking about, i don't have a bruise on my-"

steve rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light and pushing his chest out to get as close the mirror as possible. sure enough, sitting right above his heart, is a barely there bruise. it's a little green, a little brown, but definitely there.

there's something to be said about having eddie bruised above his heart. something to be said about having the indent of his ring pressed into his skin where he's the most vulnerable. the place where he had to learn how to take his armor off to let eddie see in the first place.

steve looks between the bruise and his face, back and forth and back again and watches as his smile grows wide, grows soft around the edges, grows into something that is vaguely eddie shaped which somehow makes it grow even softer.

he can hear eddie get home, the front door slamming as he shouts a too loud welcome to dustin and drops his toolbox onto the floor. his heart thuds a little bit like it always does when he realizes eddie is nearby, and he thinks if he could look close enough, he'd see his eddie shaped bruise jump along with it.

carefully, steve strokes his fingers over the discoloration, presses down just enough to feel it zing through his nerves like the lightning that eddie himself is. he watches as the skin turns pale before blooming back to life again.

steve thinks there's something there that he can't put his finger on. something thrumming through his veins that he can't give a name to.

"baby, you've got to come see this!" he yells into the living room.

something that he has all the time in the world with eddie to eventually figure out.

crossposted on twitter here

[bluebeary-jay]

Playing pretend

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader

Summary: a simple mission turns out to be quite a challenge when you find out that you're partnered with Jack Daniels. oh, and that you have to pretend to be in love with each other. easy? not at all.

Tags: fake dating lets gooo!! idiots in love, fluff, some steamier scenes later on, reader is a tease and Jack is a disaster. equals mutual dumbassery

Warnings: jealousy, not smut but some steam for sure, a few ridiculous southern sayings i had way too much fun coming up with

Word count: 5.5K

A/N: i don't really know why i chose jack for this prompt but i think it fits nicely. @pedrostories i know i'm late but i wanted to do this for you ❤️ congrats again!! and for all the other lovely people who stick around, i hope you like this and happy reading!! 💕 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and i love you all so much for the constant support 💗

This was supposed to be a delicate type of operation, which is why you were the first choice for the mission. It wasn’t a dig of any kind – everyone just knew you were good at handling tense situations and skilled at staying out of sight, not to mention your gift for making people trust you easily. Everything that was needed for this particular task.

Who wasn’t good at blending in, however, was Agent Whiskey. Which is why you were more than a little surprised when it turned out he’ll be your partner for the mission.

“I know he’s not exactly a subtle sort,” said Champ when you brought it up. “But we do need to get the target’s attention and… well, we can count on him when it comes to that. Besides, who knows,” he sent you a half-smile, though he seemed unsure of his own words, somehow, “maybe you two will balance yourself out. Maybe it’ll be good for you.”

So that’s how it happened. That’s how you got stuck with Jack Daniels.

It wasn’t that you disliked Jack. He was a handful, yes, an arrogant asshole and a show-off, but he also could make you laugh. He was very skilled at fighting and you knew you could count on him if things went south. And, though you would never admit it, he wasn’t the worst to look at.

The main problem was the combination of his stupid cockiness on this particular mission.

Because you had to pretend to be in love.

“C’mon, sunshine, it won’t be that bad.”

“Maybe for your dumb ass,” you murmured in response while walking to the table, squeezing Jack’s arm tightly and subtly looking around the hall. “I swear, Whiskey, if you try something…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The man you were supposed to pretend to be dating leaned in, and your whole body tensed. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, sweet pea.”

“I doubt it.”

“...For the remainder of the mission.”

“There you go.”

In his usual ‘Jack Daniels’ fashion, he started pushing your buttons to the extreme even before your jet plane landed, and you had to close your eyes and count from ten to zero several times already, ordering yourself to calm down. Sometimes, you had to admit, his confidence and cheekiness were quite endearing, making you think about that frustratingly beautiful face of his late at night, but this time he was treading on very thin ice and you didn’t feel like being understanding.

You used to pride yourself in knowing exactly how to handle him. Jack was the biggest tease and a diva, and as long as you balanced the thin line between not encouraging his antics and giving him just enough attention, he became as gentle as a lamb in your presence. But this… this stupid, stupid mission…

“Would you like a cupcake, my lovely tater tot?” Whiskey’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, and you had to stop the grimace on your face at the over-the-top nickname and his smug smirk. Instead, you just smiled sweetly.

“Only if you have some, my little meatball,” you answered through gritted teeth, but his infuriating smile only grew. Great.

The problem wasn’t even Jack. It was you, and that was what was driving you crazy.

You used to have a small, tiny crush on the older agent, but you liked to think it was long gone, water under the bridge and all that crap. He was Jack Daniels, for heaven’s sake – he’d never be interested in someone as guarded and shy as you, and though it took you a few months to realize that his ‘flirting’ was actually how he talked with every woman, you made your peace with it.

But being here with him, watching him acting as if he loves you, as if you hung the moon and stars in the sky… Touching you as if you’re the most precious thing in the entire world, trying to be as close to you as possible (though still respecting your boundaries, just like he promised)... It was tearing you apart.

And you hated feeling so out of control of your own emotions.

“You okay?” Jack murmured after a couple more minutes of silence, doffing his hat to someone walking by. “You’re unusually quiet.”

You were sitting on his lap all stiff, trying to remember how to breathe, but it wasn’t easy with his hand on your thigh. His touch was soothing, as if he suspected how uncomfortable all of it was for you and wanted to help you relax, but for all you knew, he could be just looking for an excuse to feel you up.

“M’fine,” you answered, trying to ignore your closeness. “I can just sit next to you, y’know.”

“Never hurts to act a bit over-the-top,” he said, and then eyed you warily. “You’d better not be sayin’ that ‘cause of these women’s talks about ‘bein’ too heavy’. I’ll have you know, cutie pie, that these thighs are meant for a wilder rodeo than holdin’ a pretty little thing like you perched on ‘em.”

You ignored his frivolous remark. Jack waited a couple of seconds before he sighed and slowly leaned in, probably wanting it to seem like he was kissing your neck. But instead of his lips, you felt his hot breath on your skin, making you shiver.

“You look like a gazelle in a lion den, sugar,” he whispered worriedly, taking his eyes off of you to look around inconspicuously. “If anyone’s to believe that we’re a couple of lovebirds, you gotta stop acting like I’m holdin’ you hostage.”

“Easy for you to say.” You had to stop yourself from smacking his hand away from your leg. “You’re probably upset the mission doesn’t let you flirt with any of those women,” you said to draw the attention from your own emotions, but Whiskey just laughed quietly.

“Who said I’d want to? I have the most beautiful gal right here on my lap.” He sent you a wink. “Though she could be more handsy for ol’ Jack’s standards.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, but that didn’t discourage him, especially when he noticed a small smile on your face.

“I’m serious. Or as serious as you’re comfortable with me to be.” He smirked, the bastard, and glanced at you with his eyes half-lidded. “So what will it be, sugar? You have to do your part, too, no?”

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Ever since you got here, you were wary, avoiding his touch and teasing more often than not, while he didn’t have any problem with acting as if he was interested in you. You presumed it was nothing for him – he’d do a good job with any woman on his arm, but for you it was almost too painful to attempt.

But if you didn’t want to blow your cover, you had to get over yourself and your stupid heart.

“My part?” you repeated in a whisper, steeling yourself and lifting your hand to his face. Jack froze in place, his eyes wide when you hummed and stroked his cheek with your thumb. “How’s this for acting all lovesick, cowboy?”

“Uhm…” he cleared his throat. There was a hint of surprise and enjoyment in his eyes, but though he tried to hide it behind his usual mask of arrogance, you could also see that he was almost… nervous. “S’better, sunshine. You’d have m– anyone fooled.” You squinted, and then, as if the spell was broken, all the awkwardness disappeared from Jack’s face, and he took your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you an inch closer. “Though you could still learn a thin’ or two from your dashin’ lover.”

“Watch what you’re doing, Jack.”

“Oh, c’mon, I don’t mean anythin’ bad.” His hand squeezed your thigh just a little, making you tense. “Just a bit of harmless fun. Our target isn’t even here yet.”

“Talk quieter,” you hissed, but he just chuckled.

“Wanna shut me up, sugar?”

His smile was positively shit-eating, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. Jack always knew how much to push and prod at your usually composed self, all to rile you up just the right amount. Ginger told you several times that he hopes for your reaction and that’s why he’s doing it, but it didn’t change the fact that sometimes he was pissing you off so much that letting him win would be considered a dishonor.

You squared your shoulders and just as you predicted, Whiskey’s eyes strayed to your collarbone before snapping right back. You raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, closer, closer… until you heard him inhale sharply.

Your chests were brushing against each other with every deep breath you took, but you didn’t pull back.

Harmless fun, he said?

Your fingers traveled up to the collar of his shirt, fixing it a little, and then slid down his chest. His heart was pounding under your palm, and finding this out brought you a lot of satisfaction, so you took it to the next level and whispered sweetly:

“Please shut up, or I’ll act out a messy breakup and you will have to explain yourself to Champ.”

Before you fully grasped what you were doing, your teeth grazed his earlobe gently, eliciting a low groan out of the agent. His arm around your waist tightened, and that’s what finally brought you back to reality.

In an instant you pulled away from each other. Your neck was hot with embarrassment at your sudden boldness, but at least you achieved your goal – Jack looked completely stunned and, for once, speechless.

Both of you stared at each other for a few moments before Jack mustered a tight smile and nodded.

“Gotta say, uh…” Your eyes met briefly again, and he swallowed heavily, all his bravado leaving him. “Actually, ‘scuse me for a sec.”

Not paying attention to your bewildered expression, he stood up, almost causing you to fall to the floor. His name died on your lips when he fixed his tie and turned around, heading to the restrooms.

It was so unlike him to act this way, that you started to worry you crossed some boundary even someone like agent Whiskey didn’t dare to approach.

You behaved unexpectedly, yes, but was it a reason enough for him to leave like that?

“Looks like my date isn’t the only one who bailed.”

With the strange voice came a man you didn’t recognize, but who sat down right next to you with way too much confidence for your liking. It took you a second to realize he was talking about Jack, and you summoned a small smile.

“Oh, no, no. He just went to the restroom.” You waved your hand in the general direction. “He didn’t leave leave.”

“Then perhaps you won’t mind me keeping you company?” The man – tall, blonde and in a damn expensive suit – offered his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Jacob.”

Jacob? Was it the same Jacob that supposedly planned to seal some dark deal during the reception tomorrow?

You opened your mouth, but before you could ask about his last name – or offer him yours, for that matter – he continued. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, sweetheart. Are you a friend of someone here?”

“Lillian’s old friend, actually.” That was the name of the maid of honor, the same one who had some connections with Champ and notified him about this whole business. “But I came a day before to see the city with my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend…” He nodded to the side with his eyebrows raised. “The Southern Sam?”

“That’s funny, cause his name actually is Sam,” you attempted to make a joke for Jacob to lower his guard, which seemed to have worked.

“And how long have you been together?”

Was that an interview? “Almost two years, why?”

“I’m asking ‘cause I saw the cowboy chatting with some ladies at the bar before.” He gave you a fake sympathetic look. “And you were nowhere to be seen.”

You knew about it, of course – Jack tried to get some information out of the singles gossiping at the minibar, but other than an offer for a ‘time of his life’, he couldn’t drag anything useful out of them. But still, Jacob was clearly looking for a reason to make you doubt your boyfriend’s intentions, so you went with it.

“What?” You changed your voice to be softer, and looked over your shoulder. “Oh… well, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Sorry to say, babydoll, but it didn’t seem like it.”

Jacob shifted closer, now making you really uncomfortable, but you were careful not to let it show. He placed his hand on your thigh and draped the other arm over the back of your chair, sending you a flirtatious smile.

“But just to let you know, if, let’s say… things don’t work out with your cowboy, I have a beautiful mansion not far from here that I’d love to show you. There’s some things I have to take care of tomorrow, but after that…”

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly strayed above your shoulder. You felt another, stronger arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, and when you lifted your gaze, you were met with Jack’s brown eyes, full of well-hidden anger.

“Hi there, buttercup. Who’s your new friend?”

Though his tone sounded friendly, you knew it was anything but. You smiled tightly and turned to him.

“Sam, this is Jacob,” you said, giving the former a pointed look to let him know you’re in the middle of handling the latter. But the older agent seemingly didn’t take the hint and narrowed his eyes at their target. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“Well, hate to interrupt your chat, but I’ve got somethin’ I wanted to show ya, darlin’.”

Your eyes popped when you heard him, not believing that Jack was really sabotaging your work like that. But he didn’t back down, keeping his stare cold and hard.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you answered dryly. “We can talk later.”

“We’re talkin’ now,” he doubled down, tightening his hold on your waist. You glared at him angrily but before you could say something you’d regret, Jacob butted in.

“Maybe I should take my leave for now,” he said with a charming smile and winked in your direction. “I’ll see you later, doll.”

You watched in frustration as he walked away, and then faced Jack with barely concealed anger, but he didn’t even look your way.

“Found the conference hall,”he just murmured before standing up. “Follow me.”

An irritated huff was the only answer he received. You did as he asked, however, deciding to give him a piece of your mind in a more secluded location.

“So I think this is the place,” Jack said, stepping slowly around the table. He guided you through a closed off section of the building where you definitely shouldn’t be, stopping in a big, though quite narrow, room. “Had to break down the lock at the door, a pretty sturdy one. I reckon we plant the bug under one of the chairs and maybe somewhere on the other side, but I wanted to get a second opinion–”

“Aren’t we gonna talk about what happened there?” you interrupted him, crossing your arms over your chest. Whiskey paused and looked at you with his brow raised.

“What happened where?”

“With Jacob. What the fuck was that about, Jack?”

“You really wanna talk about this now?” he asked in response, but your unwavering stare spoke for itself, and he threw his arms in the air. ”Fine. Damn me for lookin’ out for ya.”

“He was eating out of my hand, and you blew it!” you accused him, which made him clench his jaw.

“If you didn’t notice, he was gettin’ way too close an’ personal–”

“He’s our target, Jack! The mission is to get close to him.”

Whiskey huffed and turned around, shaking his head. He adjusted his hat, angling it in a way so you couldn’t see his eyes anymore. “Look, sugar, I know the mission’s important and all that jackal’s shit, but we– you don’t need to let the bastard feel ya up to get the information outta him.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” you cocked your eyebrow, not believing him. “It’s my job, Whiskey.”

“Still–”

“And besides, it’s none of your business! What if I don’t mind it?”

He did look at you in that moment, with a gaze so cool and dark that it caused your confidence and resolve to waver. His face, so harsh in its beauty, looked like it was carved out of a block of marble as he slowly strode forward, walking around the long table. Not for one second he took his brown eyes off of you, and you had to resist the urge to hold your breath.

Jack was rarely someone who could be considered ‘intimidating’. Goofy, arrogant, smartmouth – sure. But not intimidating.

But agent Whiskey… Agent Whiskey was a different story altogether.

“S’that so?” he murmured lowly, making your insides tighten at the timbre of his voice. “I didn’t realize my girlfriend is the sort to throw herself into the arms of the first man she meets.”

“Don’t forget yourself,” you scoffed, done with his theatrics. “We’re not together.”

“Jacob thinks so,” he shot back, stepping into your personal space and – to your irritation – forcing you to take a step back. “And now he’ll think I’m neglectin’ a gem like you.”

“So that’s what it’s about!” A short, dry laugh fell from your lips, and you rolled your eyes. “It’s all about Jack Daniels’ precious, fragile pride that some stranger will think you’re not the sex god and womanizer you think you are.”

“I’ve no clue what you’re blabberin’ ‘bout, pumpkin.” That bastard dared to smirk, his chest colliding with yours when you refused to move away from him again. “Sam Brooks is a very faithful and attentive boyfriend.”

“Oh, screw you.”

“And…” he continued, ignoring you. “He doesn’t wanna see any chowderhead’s hands on his girl. Mission or no mission.”

“You’re forgetting yourself,” you shot back with a pang of both irritation and electricity from the way he said ‘his girl’. “This is an act and… and besides, who do you think you are to be telling me that?!” His expression didn’t change and it made the flames of your rage burst higher. “It’s you who has a reputation of jumping at every chance to fuck any female target–!”

The man in front of you moved abruptly, quickly as a whip he was so proficient with, and though your training prepared you for such situations, you still didn’t manage to block his palm from covering your mouth. His head was turned to the side, but returned to its previous position when you smacked his hand away with an angry huff and pushed him strongly.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Shh!”

“Don’t shush me, asshole! You started it, so now–”

“For cryin’ out loud, shut it!” he hissed, lifting his hand to signal you to be quiet. He tilted his head again and held his breath, waiting. And then you heard it.

Someone was in the corridor, from the sound of it opening and closing the doors to every room one at the time.

You and Jack looked at each other.

“We need to get outta here, sunshine.”

You had to save your argument for later, but the quick search soon showed that the door you came through was the only exit route. There were no windows in the room – a sought-after thing when you don’t want anyone to spy on your shady deals, you supposed – or even any nooks and crannies one could hide in. You were screwed.

“Fuck!” Jack hissed, quietly going back to you from searching around the conference room. “We’re trapped like a pair of mice under the cat’s tail!”

The echo of footsteps was getting louder, more frantic, and you raked your brain about what to do to appear the least suspicious if someone were to nail you in the area you absolutely should not be.

Beside you, Jack sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment, before quickly shrugging his jacket off. Then he unbuttoned two of his shirt’s buttons and walked up to you, forcing you to draw back until your back hit the wall behind you.

“What the hell are you–”

“You’re gonna hate me even more, and m’really sorry,” he cut you off hurriedly and apologetically. You shot him a furious, questioning look, which turned to total confusion when he took off his hat and placed it on your head, ruffling his own hair. “Just go with it, sugar.”

The door on the other side of the room creaked, but you didn’t have a chance to turn your head because right in that moment Jack crashed his lips to yours, kissing you with such passion that it stole the breath away from your lungs. It took you a few seconds to get over your surprise, but you quickly understood what his plan was.

It was wrong and you could still come up with another way to distract whoever was at the door, but if you were honest… you didn't want to.

With the first fiery caress of Jack Daniel’s lips, it became clear to you that his touch was extremely addicting, and as improper as it was, you were already starving for more. It briefly crossed your mind to push him away, because that is not how you imagined this evening to go, but… you had to admit, this was a good idea for a distraction.

And probably your only chance to kiss this handsome, maddening cowboy.

So you reciprocated, your hands grabbing him by his clothes roughly, and poured into the kiss all the longing and feelings you had for your fellow agent, and which you tried to contain all evening. You let it all out.

Jack didn’t waste any time, and the second you returned the kiss, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up, pressing you harder against the wall and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The moan you let out was swallowed by his mouth, and he continued to kiss and caress you like a man starved, like he planned to devour you whole.

And maybe it was the alcohol you consumed, or maybe just that infatuation you never fully suppressed, but you didn’t fight your own desire to be as close to him as possible. You used to fantasize about wiping that stupid smirk off Jack’s face by stealing the breath out of him, but you never imagined how wonderful it’d feel.

God, the noises he was making when you tugged on his hair… the feeling of his hands on your bare thighs… and his mouth. On your lips, on your neck and collarbone, kissing every inch of your skin like there’s no tomorrow… Nothing could ever prepare you for how much you wanted him to keep going, to–

You pretty much forgot the reason this make-out session even started, and your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.

Jack’s lips left yours in an instant and you had to stop yourself from pulling him back by the material of his shirt, your head still dizzy from what just happened. Instead you turned to the door, your nerves dying down when you saw a young and clearly uncomfortable man.

“Uhm, apologies,” he spoke up with a nervous smile. “Have any of you seen two little girls running around?”

He sounded sincere, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down your pounding heart. Jack was still holding you up and for a second you worried that he’s going to drop you, but he supported your weight without breaking a sweat.

“No, buddy. Sorry,” your partner answered, and the man nodded.

“Alright… It’s just, they’re wrapping up the party for today, but my daughters ran off somewhere.” His eyes shifted to you and your bare thighs, the material of your dress rolled up where Jack had his hands on you. Before you could become embarrassed, the lost dad coughed again. “Uhm, the staff asked everyone to leave in the next half an hour, so… just so you know. Bye.”

The door quickly shut behind him, slamming a little too loudly in the sudden silence. The shame at being caught – and at your own eagerness to what Jack did  – only now came crashing down on you. You didn’t want to face him, but knew it was inevitable.

Jack’s eyes were already on you, with his pupils blown wide. His expression showed the same desire as the one scorching your insides, the same unwillingness to pull away from you, but the special moment you shared was long gone. After ten seconds of silence, he cleared his throat and gently set you down. Your arms and chest felt cold without his body pressed against yours.

Whiskey sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. You slowly took his hat off your head, holding it in front of you awkwardly, and waited for him to speak.

And finally, Jack hung his head low and cursed under his breath. You watched in confusion as he turned to you, stuck his cheek forward and closed his eyes.

“Smack me.”

That was not what you expected him to say. “...what?”

“Smack me,” he repeated with confident readiness, not moving an inch. “I deserve it.”

“No,” you said, totally confused. “I’m not gonna hit you. You did it… only so we wouldn’t get caught…” Jack’s shoulders slumped, making you hesitate. “...right?”

“It’s not just that,” he spoke up quietly, opening his eyes but not looking at you. “If you knew, sugar… the things I did to–”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head at the words coming out of his mouth, but the sound wasn’t joyous at all. He ran his hand down his face, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to the motion of his thumb wiping the edge of his bottom lip.

“You were s’pposed to be paired with Tequila.”

This one sentence, which seemingly came out of nowhere, just made you even more confused. “Jack, I don’t underst–”

“I asked to go on this mission with you,” he repeated louder, looking almost irritated that he had to explain it to you. “Practically begged, like a damn fool. Tequila was s’pposed to be your partner, but I couldn’t… That is, didn’t want to…”

Whiskey let out another breathless chuckle, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m gonna sound like the most selfish asshole, though that’s probably not far from whatcha actually think of me…”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.” You went around him to look him solemnly in the eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “Just tell me, what do you mean by all that?”

“Look, darlin’, I’ve no clue what I wanted to achieve,” he spat with annoyance, as if it was your fault he wasn’t making any sense. “I just fuckin’ knew I didn’t want to see Tequila or any other agent act all lovey-dovey with ya, hold your hand and maybe…” he choked up suddenly, his gaze softening, “...maybe kiss you.”

Your eyes were wide and your mind struggled to comprehend what all of it meant, but Jack didn’t even give you a second to gather your thoughts.

“To be clear, I didn’t plan on that.” He gestured towards the wall against which you were pressed just a few minutes ago, and you understood he’s talking about the unexpected kiss. “I might be a dickhead, but it wasn’t all some grand scheme to suck faces with ya. I wasn’t thinkin’ in that moment.”

Oh.

Why did his last words hurt you more than anything else he said? Your thoughts kept circling back to the passionate kiss you two shared, and it didn’t seem to you like Jack was acting at that moment. Or just achieving a goal he pursued. It felt like he lost control. Just like you did.

But you knew now that you didn’t hate it. What about him, though?

“It wasn’t?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. Jack furrowed his brows, to which you clarified: “A grand scheme to get into my pants. It… wasn’t?”

“Fuck. No, f’course not.” The sigh that escaped him was so heavy with guilt and suffering, you could almost feel it in the air between you both. “It must be obvious t’ya that I find you attractive, sugar, and… I love talkin’ with ya. You’re sharp, funny, pretty as a peach, and I really… really wanted to do it right this time. Show myself from a better side, but…” He took a deep breath, then exhaled unevenly. “I blew it.”

He locked eyes with you, and smiled lopsidedly, but there were no emotions in the gesture.

“So I reckon y’know now why I deserve this smack. Probably not just one, but…” He closed his eyes and spread his arms wide. “C’mon, sweetheart. Bet it’ll feel better for both of us.”

You realized that, yes, Jack was really ready for you to slap him – because that, according to himself, was what he deserved. And maybe on another day, you’d even considered it. But after what you’ve been through tonight and after accepting that the feelings you harbored for the older agent never truly disappeared, you didn’t want to do that. You just needed to kiss him again.

So that’s what you did.

It wasn’t a confident display of affection. More like a shy, light brush of your lips against his, which almost immediately came to a halt when Jack pulled away, looking at you with wide, shocked eyes.

It must’ve been evident on your face, though, that you were equally – if not even more – terrified than him. You gulped and took a step back, but he caught your wrist before that could happen. His eyes were still unsure, but so bright and hopeful, it gave you a boost of confidence you desperately needed.

Jack liked you, you reminded yourself as you went in for a second kiss, which this time he eagerly reciprocated and melted into. He was jealous, you thought as your tongues naturally met and entwined.

He wanted you.

When you parted, breathless from adrenaline, and your lips swollen from the intensity of his kisses, his eyes stayed closed. You waited for any sign of regret on his face, but saw none, only raw wonder.

“I think you smacked me too hard,” he murmured, his eyes darting behind his closed eyelids in a weirdly adorable way. “M’pretty sure I’m hallucinatin’.”

“You’re such a dumbass,” you chuckled while shaking your head, and Jack snorted. “Now open your eyes and look at me.”

He obeyed, and a big grin spread on his face the second he laid his eyes on you. He drank in your bright smile and happy expression, and you let him – that is, for only a moment before you jabbed him in the ribs with your finger, causing him to grunt in pain.

“I like you, too, cowboy. Against all common sense.”

“Thank god for the bats in your belfry, then.” You scowled and scrunched your nose in a fake offense, but he just laughed. Then, very tenderly, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes warm and soft like never before. “You’re cute as a speckled pup, you know that?”

“I think you’re the lovesick puppy here.”

“Technicalities,” Jack murmured before leaning down to claim your mouth in a gentle kiss. You’ve never thought he could be so tender, and immediately longed for more of this side of him – but too soon, he pulled away, gracing you with that smirk of his you always found so irresistible. “I was thinkin’...”

“That would be the first.” Jack shot you a warning glance at that, and you yelped when he smacked your butt lightly. “You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”

“And I can’t fuckin’ wait to shut you up,” he whispered, making you giggle at the clear fondness in his tone. “As I was sayin’, I think we have a king-size bed waiting for us in our shared room.” Your face split into a wide smile, and Jack shrugged nonchalantly. “All to keep up appearances, of course.”

You tugged forcefully on his shirt and claimed his lips again, but in a deeper, more heated kiss this time. A sound similar to a growl escaped Jack’s chest, and one of his hands found its place in your hair while the other one squeezed your butt lightly. You couldn’t help but giggle into his mouth, which caused a similar smile to spread across his face.

“We wouldn’t want anyone to suspect we’re just playing pretend, right?”

His response was immediate.

“Of course not, sugar.”

[siberat]

swindle wg thing? 🥺 I need to see that conman get BIG

Swindle’s deal goes sour

cw: weight gain, some force feeding, mild mention of emeto (no vomiting)

His spark suddenly dropped in his chasis. He couldn’t believe it! How did he manage to get into this situation? If there was a mech pulling shady deals, it was him!

Swi/ndle checked his account for the third time, each time the balance read zero. Prim/us knows where the credits went- someone must have hacked his account.

“Look…. Ahhhh….” The combat/icon shifted his weight from one pede to the other, scratching the back of his helm as he chuckled. “Turn’s out I am a little short… how’s my credit?”

“How short?” His dealer grumbled, placing his servo’s on his hips.

“Ahhh, I can get you the money in a few days…. A week max.” The smaller ‘Co/n put on his best smile.

“Do you value my time so little?” Lock/down narrowed his optics, but a grin soon appeared. “I think we can work something out.”

“That would be amazing!” Swi/ndle clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Whatcya got in mind?”

… …

‘Just keep thinking of your bounty!’ Swi/ndle repeated over and over to himself as plate after plate of foods were placed in front of him. While the instructions were clear- each plate consumed earned himself one tote- the combat/icon never thought he would have to eat to earn his bounty.

 But this was no problem, right? In fact, this exchange seemed like such a steal. Just think of the profit margin! He’d be rolling in credits in no time.

However, little did he know just how loaded these plates were. Sure, some consisted of little cakes, but there was like ten of them piled on ne dish. Others had hearty sandwiches loaded with a ton of cybermeat, cheese, lettuce, onions, tomatoes and slathered in mayo. No matter the type of food, it was available in overabundance.

The variety of the spread made the feast look as if set out for a party, but the party was just him. Swi/ndle’s optics quivered just looking at all the dishes…. And his belly gave a preemptive ache just thinking of consuming them all.

He wanted all the totes, afterall.

“Well?” Lock/down sneered, holding his palms out. “Let’s see you put your money where your mouth is. Eat up.”

“Ah…. what is that?” Swi/ndle cocked his head to the side as he watched the other set a device on the table and aimed it right toward him.

“You don’t think I’m going to take a financial hit over this soured deal, do you?” The green and black mech looked through the display, adjusting for the best view. “I plan to earn the credits back by hosting a stream.”

“Hey…. You gonna record me choking this slop down?”

Lock/down simply nodded. “Turns out there are quite a few mechs out there that would love to see you squirming under the spotlight. And who am I to deny them?”

Prim/us, he did not wish anyone else to witness this! “That’s not fair!” Just how many mechs has he upset? Doing the math quickly in his helm, the number equated to a lot.

“And neither is coming to our little meeting empty handed. Credits make the world go round. You of all mechs should know that.” The red button on top of the camera was pressed. “We are live. Put on a good show and make me some money.”

Swi/ndle hefted out a sigh. What choice did he have? Slag, remember the profits- he would definitely make a lot with no overhead. All he had to do was scarf down the meals in front of him.

Easy Peasy!

The first dish selected was a heaping bowl of mac and cheese. Picking up a spoonful, the mech shoveled it into his mouth and was immediately rewarded with such rich flavor! The texture was smooth and the sharp flavor of cheese just burst over his taste receptors. This begged for another heaping mouthful for sure. However, all good things must end, and the spoon scrapped against and empty bowl all too soon.

“Why don’t you give this a try next?”

A plate with a large lithium potato smothered with greasy bacon, sour cream and green seasonings pushed in front of him. “Sure, no problem.” Swi/ndle grinned, just thinking of the deal he was gonna walk away with. So what he had to engorge on food in front of the audience: this was easy earnings!

However, one dish after another slid his way. And dish after dish was consumed, but the pace slowed. While the energon foods were delightful, each swallow filled his tummy more and more. Soon, he could feel his abdominal plating grow uncomfortably tight. Dull aches surfaced, pinging his processor that no more food was needed.

“Finished already?” Lock/down tutted, shaking his helm in disappointment. “I didn’t think you would quit so easily.”

“I’m not finished yet!” Swi/ndle grumbled, rubbing a servo over his swelled belly. “I got plenty of room left!”

Was there more room? There had to be: he only earned a measly eight totes. He needed much more than that!

“I would hate to disappoint your adoring fans…” As if on que, an assortment of pings erupted from the broadcasting device.

Swi/ndle furrowed his optics as another plate was dug into. Fried cyberchicken, and you can bet that meat was sucked from the framework! As if putting on a show, Swi/ndle sucked his greasy fingers clean while looking into the camera, then patted at his bloated stomach. “Is that all you got?”

More plates were pushed his way, and the struggle became real. After each bite, his belly would let out a troubled gurgle. After each swallow, he’d be gasping for breath. After each plate finished, sweat would be dripping from his brow. His abdomen was obnoxiously distorted and quivered in pain! And only three more plates had been finished.

“I think after all that food, you need to wet your whistle.” Lock/down stifled a grin.

 Swi/ndle knew this wasn’t good, but he was thirsty. A large pitcher of light green liquid was placed in front of him.

“Give that a taste, hm?”

“Got a glass?” Swi/ndle asked, giving the flab that squished out his seams a pinch.

“Drink it from the canister, piggy.”

The solo combat/icon reluctantly obeyed and brought the large pitcher to his lips. It was cold and very sweet tasting! However, he noted how thick the liquid was as it pured into his mouth. “What the slag is this?” Swi/ndle coughed, returning the picture to the table.

Lock/down’s hands held the canister in it’s spot. “Does it matter? Chug it.”

Swi/ndle’s optics grew. The recording device sang out pings and whistles. He knew that sound to be credits being sent in via the livestream. And those noises only multiplied as the canister was raised to the chubby mech’s lips.

And the con artist had no choice but to drink. And with each gulp, he swore his belly bulged out even more! His plating grew tight, and not even halfway through the drink, a loud pang rang through the air.

Dear Prim/us, was that his abdominal plating shooting across the room? The pressure on his abdomen decreased and something heavy but soft bounced on his lap. Exploring servo’s rubbed the mass, confirming yes, this was his protomesh belly resting upon his thighs, fully exposed for the world to see.

How embarrassing! And painful! The mass ached as if the beachball of the belly was about to pop. But the cream kept puring down his maws, and the pained mech kept swallowing. More spasms trembled though his belly.

How much more could his poor tanks endure?

When the canister finally lowered from his lips, Swi/ndle gasped. What a relief to be able to breath in air to cool off his warming frame! But this was short lived. His tummy cramped and spasmed, it’s surface itching from the freshly acquired stretchmarks.

Isn’t that just peachy?

Swi/ndle whined as his belly churned, its surface shaking like an earthquake. A sharp and clenching ached formed from deep within. This uncomfortable feeling caused the combinor’s optics to shoot wide open.

Something was coming up. He could feel the pressure rising, creating a stabbing sensation along his internal digestion tract. All the while, the chimes rang, reminding the pained mech he was in front of an audience. Prim/us, if he purged, he would be mortified!

Not to mention he would most likely have to return the totes if he lost the meals.

Swi/ndle swallowed hard a few times, attempting to coax his belly’s contents to stay put, but this was a losing battle. Whatever this feeling was, it was rising rapidly. He barely had time to moan before his throat tubing widened, releasing an obnoxiously wet belch in the air.

“Bllllllaaaaaaaaaarrrrruuuuuughgggghhhhhhhhh….” It was loud. It was painful. It echoed through the room.

And the viewers went wild, but all Swi/ndle could do was sit there, gasping for breath as he rubbed his obnoxiously stuffed belly.

“Have you had enough?” Lock/down chuckled. “You only earned twelve totes.”

“That’s it?” Swi/ndle griped, feeling incredibly overstuffed and sick. The burps kept coming, and his belly kept growling. “You sure you counted correctly?”

That wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted to take home!

But one troubled question festered in his processor: which dish would be easy to consume next?

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

Can you do a mandalorian fic we’re him and y/n/the reader are in zero gravity and reader is being sassy so they have a silky tickle fight in zero gravity? :3

The Mandalorian Tickler

Summary: See prompt above :)

(Thanks for the prompt @teddysterk ❤️ :) First time writing for The Mandalorian 😅 Not quite the direction given, but I still hope you enjoy ❤️ :))

"Why can't I help steer the ship?"

Mando sighed. "No one flies this ship but me kid. You know this."

"But it looks so easy!"

"Y/n."

"I'm sure I could figure it out."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to."

You tried to make your eyes as wide and pleading as possible. "I promise I'll be careful!"

"No."

"But---!"

"End of discussion."

You sunk back into your seat. "You're no fun."

"Yep."

"An absolute buzzkill."

Mando pushed a couple buttons. "I know."

"A regular stupid head.

"Mh-hm."

With a groan, you sunk further into your chair. Ever since you were a kid, all you had dreamed about was flying a ship. Didn't matter the size or the make, you just wanted to fly it.

The thrum of the hyperdrive, the pop and crackle of wires, the hiss of heated metal as coolant flowed through them---it all just sparked something deep inside of you.

To be this close and not get to touch any of it was pure torture!

Your fingers twitched closer to the panel as you fought even harder to keep your fingers away this second time.

"Y/n."

You paused. "Yes?"

Mando hadn't turned away from the controls. "Don't touch."

You stayed frozen for a few seconds longer. Then when you were sure Mando's attention wasn't on you anymore, you started moving closer to the panel.

"I mean it."

Your movements paused again before slowly creeping forward a third time. Your fingers were so close!

A second later, a hand squeezed your ribs.

You squealed and jumped back into your seat. Both of you arms pressed against your ribs to shield yourself from further attacks.

When you looked up, you met the eyes of Mando's helmet. "Why did you do that!"

"I was aiming for your arm."

"You missed!"

From the helmet looking down, you swore you heard a faint chuckle. "Really?"

"Stop!"

Instead of stopping, Mando clicked the auto-pilot button without turning back to the console.

"W-what---?"

"Since you won't keep your hands to yourself, maybe I can find another form of persuasion."

A split second later, you were out of your seat and moving around the cockpit. However, you could never put enough distance between you and him.

"Mandoho, l-let's talk about thihis!"

"Well, what do you have to say?"

"Stohop coming closeher!"

"Yeah, I don't think I will."

You ducked around one of the chairs and managed to avoid Mando's arm in the process. Now your back was to the console as Mando continued approaching.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be kid."

"No Ihim not!"

"Y/n."

You scrambled back even further, but you didn't realize how close you were to the console. Instead of finding more space, you found cold metal that easily took out your legs. On your way down, you instinctively grabbed for something to stop your fall and hit a button instead.

"Y/N!"

"Oops," you thought as you floated up to the ceiling. "Sorry!"

"You turned off the gravity!"

"I tripped!"

Mando twisted and turned until he was able to roll himself over. "Now you're gonna get it!"

"Eep!" You started "swimming" towards the wall. "Nononono!"

Mando continued moving closer and closer toward you while you continued moving farther and farther away. It was hard to get far though when you were swimming through the air like a puppy over water. You scooped air out of the way and kicked your legs like a frog but you barely moved a centimeter forward.

It took a great deal of stretching before you finally touched the wall with your hand. You yanked your legs forward then pushed off like a rocket away from your attacker.

"Hey!"

You stuck your tongue out at Mando. "Missed me!"

In response, Mando launched himself off the wall toward you.

"Eep!" You scrambled to get away.

"Get back here kid!"

"No!"

As Mando pushed himself off the wall and toward you again, you launched yourself forward. This time, you didn't get very far.

Mando had anticipated your next move. He pushed his feet down and activated his jetpack. This change sent him right in to your incoming path.

"Hey!" You squirmed in his hold. "No fair!"

Mando used the pack to then get him to the control panel where he hit the gravity button again. A moment later, he landed in the pilot seat with you in his lap.

"Finally."

You turned to smile. "Uhu . . . Time to go!"

Mando tightened his grip. "You're not getting out of this that easily."

A squeal escaped you as Mando redug his hands into your ribs. "Nah! Nohot thehere!"

"What's wrong kid?" You could feel Mando's smile through his helmet.

"Yo-your fingers!"

"What about them?"

"Theheyre---theheyre---."

"They're what?"

"Ticklish!"

"Really?" Mando held up his hand to test wiggle his fingers. "Feel normal to me."

You shoved Mando's free arm and he immediately starred to tickle your tummy. "Eeeeeehehe! Mandoho noho!"

"Shouldn't have revealed your weakness kid."

"Ihi didnhn't!"

"Then how did I find out?"

"Becahause yohou hahave bahad ahaim!"

Mado chuckled. "Now you're sassing mehe?""

"Buhut ihit's truhue!"

"Oho really?"

"Yehes!" You squirmed to get out his grip. "Yohoure ahaim is terrihible!"

A huff escaped Mando's mouth. "Now you're gonna get it."

"Wha---."

A moment later, Mando wiggled his fingers into your armpit.

"AHEEEEE! MAHANDOHO!"

"So how's my aim again?"

"EEEEH! EXCELLENT!"

"And will you touch my control panel without my permission?"

"NEVER!"

Mando's other hand came up to tickle your other armpit. "Promise?"

"EEH! YES!"

"Really truly?"

You started sliding down Mando's legs. "YES! PLEASE! PLEEEHEASE!"

Finally, the tickling stopped. "Alrihight."

You plopped onto the floor and wrapped your arms around your torso. "Yohou ahare horriblehel!"

"Well." Mando ruffled your hair. "Hopefully you'll remember for the future."

You stuck your tongue at him in response.

As you recovered, beeping started coming from the panel. Mando turned to check the reading.

You immediately jumped up. "What's uhup?"

"Fasten your seatbelt." Mando locked himself in. "We've got company incoming."

You jumped back into your seat. "I've got your back."

"I know." Mando grabbed the handles. "Now let's go."

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e6 recap: bite me

happy international workers day, girlies!!

let's celebrate by watching billionaires be responsible for multiple SEC violations!

the bitch is back.

shitting on his children even from beyond the grave.

the video in question: logan speaking of their new product, living+, which will play a surprisingly large role in this episode, given we've never heard of it before.

shiv has a private jet rendezvous with mattson. they both excel at flirting:

mattson: we're buddies, can we talk? shiv: no, maybe i fucking hate you.

true romance<3

mattson tells her about the CE-bros and their little freakout on the mountain, which is the opposite of what her brothers eventually tell her during the meeting with the inner circle.

ken and rome, still adamant about tanking the deal, tell them that elon musk mattson is unstable and druggy etc etc etc --

somehow, i don't think any of them are buying it.

shiv sure as shit doesn't buy their bs.

this is the comeback i've been waiting for.

roman immediately makes his sadboy face and asks for a hug, because all he wants is love, but my heart is starting to harden. he is truly in his flop era this episode.

shiv pencils in 20 minutes in her calendar to cry.

i love you, shiv roy. ilysm, but you will never be holly hunter from broadcast news.

cry-time is briefly interrupted by making out with the future ex-husband she absolutely hates.

we've all been there.

roman has to deal with hollywood.

he is not pleased.

i can sense the utter distain jesse armstrong has for hollywood through my screen.

the hollywood exec pushes one of roman's buttons (lots of them lately) and he fires her in a way that reminds me of logan, but also doesn't. i have a feeling logan would send "the help" to do the dirty work for him?

roman's firing spree begins. we all know where this is headed.

kendall is being annoying.

asking too much and telling your staff they can never say no?

just a regular day for me, working with politicians.

also, a fucking minefield in terms of sexual harassment, don't we think?

anyway, he wants to play house on stage and fudge the numbers and be the cringiest of cringe. let kendall be kendall, i guess.

tom and shiv hook up twice in this episode????

unrealistic.

also they bite each other.

i shouldn't have to elaborate on that.

ken and rome are still working on their "tank the deal" plan and so far the road ahead seems very realistic and not at all like the potential symptom of bipolar disorder.

for once, greg is of use and summarizes their strategy pretty well:

bla bla bla business talk bla bla bla i don't care.

roman contemplates his own mortality, as one does, and thinks there should be some other option.

death is, after all, very much one-size-fits-all.

and where does he want to end up post death, you ask?

inside a tortoise 👀

conveniently, gerri calls him in for a talk to chat to him about some very serious issues, such as:

roman is shocked to know he can't just do whatever the fuck he pleases. but that's what my dad would do, he says, to which gerri responds, but you are not your dad.

i think we've hit another button..........

and gerri, having zero fucks left to give, does not hold back.

uh oh.

and thus, roman's firing spree continues.

i'm broken.

and also mad.

i know there are probably some readers of this recap not entirely obsessed with romangerri (but really, do you exist?!), but i just have to say, please endulge me.

we're just over halfway through the season and gerri's been fired twice. let me wallow.

kendall, however, is thrilled about this unhinged energy:

"fucking eat greg" is perhaps the funniest thing he's ever said.

meanwhile, after sleeping together, shiv and tom share a heartfelt moment.

just kidding.

tom says he loves money.

how gauche of him.

the set is not up to par for our mate kendall over here, so he morphs into joni mitchell for a short sec:

I'VE LOOKED AT CLOUD FROM BOTH SIDES NOW!

where are the clouds from berlin?? really makes u think:(

luckily, he can fudge the numbers some more to elevate the stock price to distract himself.

the sibs, however, notice his erratic behavior, and shiv convinces rome that this whole presentation is not a good idea.

and despite the eventual outcome, i think they are right, given ken's track record.

karl has a spine conspiracy?????

it feels good having the old guard telling the kiddos how they truly feel.

in the back of his mind, all karl is thinking about is that greek island. that's queen shit.

kendall goes on stage alone, because roman really doesn't want to wear his stupid pilot jacket.

he interacts with a video version of his late dad, which of course shows a man that is so very stable.

best roman quote of the episode: if i cringe any harder i might become a fossil.

gerri agrees, but in a more resigned way:

couples who hate on kendall's speeches together, stay together<3 (this is what denial looks like).

my summary of kendall's presentation: starts out shit, then he pivots into karolina's script and it's fine, and then he plays the dead dad card and we can't really argue with that.

living+ is still a fucking shitshow imo. not sure if i would go as far as mattson, tho:

yikes.

leave it to the swedes to underestimate nazi discourse (please don't come for me swedes, you know).

greg unfortunately has the best line of the episode:

and turns out, it is very much true.

tom channeling his inner oprah was not on my 2023 bingo card.

and they all agreed ken did a great job.

and karl devolves into his usual, spineless self:(

i have a feeling this all means an end to whatever sibling solidarity we've been seeing, given shiv and roman's reactions.

roman comforts himself by listening to what is basically an AI generated clip of his dad saying he has a small penis.

shiv and tom seem to decide to keep it all business, but also not??

it feels more or less like a high school relationship to me at this point. i love it.

and we get a clip of kendall in the water, but he didn't die, so i couldn't use one of my precious screengrabs on that.

you all should probably thank the tumblr gods that they have a 30 image limit on these posts.

see you next week for the afterparty, featuring more scandis for me to make strange references about!

[meltingpenguins]

I actually enjoyed the first season of good omens a decent amount and I had a period of time where I got back deep into fic for it, but the second season nearly completely sucked away any joy and excitement I had for the characters and the fandom. Unexpectedly, I no longer want to interact with any of it, which was the complete opposite of what I thought would happen given a second season

Same, pretty much.

Now, With Season 1 it aged like milk to me. Initially I was very much on board, there were good ideas, the cast was nifty, i even cheered for some of the eastereggs. But I'm a good old fashioned overthinker, and here's the thing:

Good Omens the book will forever hold a special place in my heart. It's what got me into writing ultimately (Discworld already got me back into reading, but GO struck that secret chord), and as I am working on two text-game and a novel right now (something I wouldn't even have dreamed of 15 years ago) I'd say it's done a good job.

I'm someone who loves to analyse stories, and Good Omens the book is one of those stories that is so incredibly smart, witty and well-constructed that it is a joy to read and re-read and re-re-read and so forth. I'd say Book Omens is one of the very few stories that has no plotholes or continuity hiccups. There is a 'Schrödinger's Plothole' aka one that depends on what you headcanon-ing happening (I can explain what I mean by that if people are curious), but that's it. Every other 'hold on' moment can be filled in with a variety of solid explanations stemming from what we are given about the world and the characters. Even why the fuel-needle has been pointing to zero since Crowley got the Bentley, even though Crowley did *buy* petrol at some point (flash bastard prolly drank it, I'd not be surprised)

The show, however, is riddled with plotholes and fridgelogic through and through, topped with quite a bit of pretentiousness and something that feels like taking the piss out of book fans and pretending it's 'loving shout outs' (no, it's not). I'll give examples for this if someone asks as well.

And s2 only got worse. It feels as if in s1 the book's plot was desperately pushing bad against some really atrocious writing, directing decisions and budget management. In s2 there was nothing to push back against it. Now, given this is still amzen we are talking about, this might be in (large) part due to their bullshit (budget cuts, shooting demands, no proper rewrites, crunch, basically all the 'fun' stuff the WGA is/was striking against).

S2 had potential and ideas, but it doesn't feel any of those were used. And to make it worse, there's already some really sour-tasting mentalities being pushed in both seasons, mentalities and world-views that weren't there in the book.

All in all, said it before, saying it again, the BEST thing for the story, the show and the fandom would be

NO s3, Neil just writes up a short story on how s3 in the amzen-verse would have gone and uploads it for free. And then either looks for a different studio, crew, cast and scriptwriter to try adapting the book again and THEN adapting Neighbour of the Beast.

or

2. S3 ditches the whole 'second coming' route and instead pushes the reset-button, declaring s1 and 2 nothing but a dream (with a proper in-universe explanation) and go through the fallout of that, fleshing out the characters proper and balancing them again.

Trying to go through with s3 on it's current wobbly, crumbling base won't work. Oh sure, there'll be drama, drama drama, and in the end crowley and az move to a cottage in the south downs, but it will again be nothing but amateurish fan-service. And for that you don't need to pay for the show. You are better off leaving kudos and comments on your fav fics, and see if the aithor has fanwork unrelated venues you can support them by financially.

[starsandpigs]

𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖕𝖎𝖌𝖘. ---- indie mabel pines from disney's gravity falls. extremely selective & private. canon and headcanon based, including materials from books. ( mun has not read book of bill yet, but plans to! ) blog established march 2018. revamped sep 2024. personals dni.

geoff | he/him | 30+. mobile rules below.

RULES

one. due to the nature of my roleplaying style, there will absolutely be mature (please keep reading to know what this means) themes here and there on this blog. i’d like to stress that i will not usually be comfortable roleplaying with muns that are under the age of eighteen (18) so please understand my confidence / comfort-ability is all based on how i feel around the mun. as this character is underage canonly, there will be no smut writing on this blog. any NSFW content will be only gore/horror related, not smut related. the mun is FAR over the age of 21 (i just turned 31) and just isn't comfortable writing that sort of thing with a character who is originally the age of 12/13, even if aged up. ya nasties. stop sexualizing children.

two. this is a selective/private blog. i really only roleplay with mutuals, however you’re more than welcome to reply to any of my open starters if i specify that you can but just know i might not reply because i (1) don’t know your muse, (2) have zero muse for the reply and will get to it later, (3) have no interest in the thread, or (4) am uncomfortable with something on your blog. roleplaying is also a hobby for me. i work full time and sometimes i genuinely cannot reply fast. if you hassle me to reply to things, i will not want to roleplay with you and it will turn me off from roleplaying with you completely. in fact, if you harrass me to reply to threads, i will automatically unfollow you because i’m not about that life of being pushed to reply to things. if you spam my follow button to try and get my attention, that will result in a soft block on your behalf. please don’t test my patience. if you do not have your ooc name on your page i will not follow you, due to me thinking hiding your ooc alias is shady and sketchy af.

three. i love shipping and i love roleplaying so much. this is not a single ship blog and none of the ships i portray are at the same time (unless further discussed with muns, of course). my muse is a free for all but only if chemistry. if i do have mains, which will be listed, they are just the people i will reply to the most, however, i won't actually limit myself to only roleplaying with them and i hope my mains respect and are comfortable with that.

four. tagging triggers is something that means a lot to me as i am not comfortable with needles or puppets on my dashboard so i blacklist needles tw and puppets tw. i know it’s weird but hey, we all have our things. please let me know if you need anything tagged- even if i don’t personally follow you. you deserve a clean and safe dashboard to roleplay in. warning.

five. anon hate will be deleted on the spot. no exceptions. i don’t care about your petty feelings and i won’t tolerate them in the slightest. i’m not here to entertain horrible people’s opinions of myself. constructive criticisms are allowed, but at the respect of myself reblogging a meme asking for it specifically.

six. mutuals are allowed to ask for my discord, since i tend to also roleplay on it!

seven. i very rarely will send in passwords, as i do not require it and i should not have to be tested on your blog to be allowed to roleplay with someone. usually if you have a password, i genuinely just didn’t think to look for it and i apologize if this upsets you but you probably won’t see any from me.

[the-haunted-office]

Surprisingly, it's Rourke who comes and finds her first. He looks....nicer than usual. A buttoned up shirt, a tie, nice pants and shoes. He looks like an average office employee, minus a coffee mug. However, he has a dark bruise over his right eye and an office staple-the kind used for paper-stuck in that eyebrow that he apparently either hasn't noticed or is ignoring for some reason. He looks nervous as hell, but also tired as if there's a huge weight on him, and when he speaks, his voice is softer than usual.

"Uh......Doom? I-I know you said not to follow you, but......I got something I need to say before you yell at me for not listening. I....I know we haven't been the greatest of friends.....because I haven't been a friend at all. Well, neither of us has, but I'm only talking about my half of the problem here. I have been the biggest damn horse's ass to you, and I.....I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner. Mama taught me better than that. When you're wrong you don't run away from it, you admit it and you fix it. Well.....I've been doing you wrong and running away from it, and I.....I don't want to do that anymore. I made things about the two of us-me and the other horse's ass-so much when I should've tried to make it the three of us. Or you and me. You get what I'm saying there. Point is.....I'm sorry for all of my shit I've done that hurt you in any way, and I want to make things right between you and I. That's.....that's why I'm here. I hope you'll let me do that. And even if you don't want to.....thank you for letting me say what I needed to say here." He drops his hands to his side and shifts onto one foot as he awaits her response, his dark eyes misty. He's nervous, he's never been good at this, but dammit, he had to at least try. He only hopes she sees that.

Doom is hanging out in one of her usual spots at the Office, which in this instance is up on the roof. It's a good spot, relatively private, only one way up and one way down, unless you count scaling the side of the building, jumping onto it from above, or jumping down below as entrances or exits. The Days like to go up there to stargaze on a weekly basis, and to throw rocks off the roof. It's good for relieving stress.

There's a dwindling pile of rocks up there now, which Doom actually isn't making much use out of. She's just sitting next to it in one of the camping chairs that's been placed up there, stretched out and leaning back with her hands crossed over her stomach and watching the sun set. The stars will be out soon and maybe then the rock throwing will commence.

The sound of the door to the roof opening gets her attention. It also gets an eyeroll and a small noise of annoyance out of her, because she doesn't want company, so now she has to find somewhere else to go to be left alone.

Pushing in the reclining part of her chair, she stands to get up and stops when she sees Rourke standing there. For a moment she seriously considers throwing him off the roof. He wanted her to kill him a couple weeks ago, fine, maybe she'll grant his wish now. She's certainly still angry enough to do it. And they all know he can respawn now, so it's not really murder, now, is it?

There's zero concern for the state of his demeanor or apparent health as she listens to what he has to say. In fact, she does her best to appear decidedly bored by it all. Part of her is. She's heard this all before.

Hey, sorry, I know you said not to follow you, but I'm gonna disrespect your boundaries anyway to lay down this big pile of bullshit at your feet in an attempt to make you feel guilty for making me feel like shit for how I treated you. Look at me, look at how sullen I am, look at my face, look at how little I have been taking care of myself, I'm even calling myself names and belittling myself instead of focusing on how I made you feel and asking how you're doing or anything, but that's okay, I'm still doing this all for you, and if you don't forgive me, I will continue to sink further into disparity and it'll be all your fault if you don't forgive me, Charlotte, I know I did you wrong and I just want you to give me another chance, I'll fix it this time, I swear I will, if you just give me another chaaaaaaaaaaance-

Rourke and Milo. Those two really were made for each other, weren't they? She takes a long look at that staple in his face and hopes that however it got there, it hurt him.

After letting things between them be uncomfortably silent for uncomfortably long, and doing this with intention, she finally says, "Why?" and she says it with almost cold calculation to it. But she really does want to know why, and so she further clarifies: "Who or what exactly am I to you, Rourke?" She shifts and tilts her head back in the other direction, as if sizing him up. What she's doing is making sure he understands that she's deliberately keeping him at a distance, keeping her eyes on him, that she knows exactly where he is standing and that he's not yet welcome anywhere near her that isn't directly with her line of sight. Like a predator carefully observing prey. "I've never been anything to you. You say we haven't been the greatest of friends, but we haven't even been the worst of friends, have we? We haven't been friends at all, I'd say. You barely acknowledge that I exist, and when you do it's only to disrespect and disregard me - like right now. I told you to leave me the fuck alone, and you have the audacity to seek me out anyway. Who do you think you are to me, Rourke? Do you think I ever cared about you? You're a fucking idiot. What do you want from me? My forgiveness? My friendship? I tried to give that to you. I did give that to you. Over and over and over, and what did you do? You looked right fucking through me!" These last few words, she suddenly screams at him, as all her anger over how he and Milo both literally looked right through her as she lay on the ground in pain comes roaring back through her.

"And that's not even the first time you've done that! You and Milo both act like I don't exist! So why do you care now? What has triggered this little charade of yours? Are you feeling alone, Rourke? Are you feeling some kind of remorse? Why? That's what I want to know. WHY? What has triggered you to come to me now, to break through my boundaries and disrespect me yet again, to ask for my forgiveness. You tell me that, and maybe I'll decide whether or not you're worth any more of the eternity I have left to live."

[rotationalsymmetry]

I gots trans stuff on the brain.

I went to CLF worship last night, and the person who was hosting coffee hour went by multiple pronouns and specifically said they like switching it up, and that was very very nice.

I talked with my partner about maybe possibly someday considering doing the hormone thing.

I gotta figure out how to come out to the people I live with. (I am…extremely not expecting any problems here, just, how do come out? It hard.) And also at some point I should do a Facebook coming out.

[superstition13]

So I have a University assignment due at midnight, which I have absolutely zero motivation to do, but it did inspire this little piece.

Distractions

//AKA Dabi Distracts You From Your Work 💙

Dabi x Female Reader (NSFW)

Genre: smut, porn with very little plot involved, fluff

Includes: biting, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cock warming, teasing, pet names, fingering, crying (pleasure), after care, Dabi’s piercings

You can’t tell me that Dabi isn’t the type of guy who would gladly use sex as a means of distracting you from your work

Especially if he feels as though you’re paying too much attention to it and not him

And if you’re a university student, he would definitely fuck your brains out instead of letting you finish an assignment that he knew you had due

Maybe you make the mistake of letting him sit in your desk chair while you sit on his lap, so at least you can be close to him

He’d start off with his chin resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, but it wouldn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander

One hand would drift down to your inner thigh, and begin tracing feather light patterns along the exposed skin he found there with the tips of his fingers, teasingly close to where you really want him to touch you

Meanwhile, his other hand has slipped under your shirt and is now toying with your nipples

And while all this is going on, you’re still desperately trying your best to concentrate, but it’s becoming increasingly harder for you to focus on typing out an essay when your boyfriend’s hands are doing sinful things to your body

It’s when he starts trailing his lips along your neck, nipping, sucking, and leaving tiny bruises behind that you give in to his touches

Dabi’s hand leaves its place on your thigh and his thumb hooks around the waist band of the skimpy pair of gym shorts you’d decided to wear around the house that day

You raise your hips, just enough for him to slide them down to your knees, where they fall and drop to the floor

He pops open the button on his jeans, and you swear you can feel yourself getting just that little bit wetter at the loud sound his zipper makes in the otherwise quiet apartment

His hands go to your hips, and he lowers you onto his achingly hard cock

A small gasp escapes your lips, you’d been careful not to brush up against his dick while you were working, not wanting to encourage Dabi’s teasing

You’d known he was horny, obviously, but you hadn’t realised how hard he truly was

The two of you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside your heat

You expect him to start bouncing you up and down on his cock, but when he doesn’t you figure he wants you to be the one taking charge

Instead, his hands tighten around you warningly, and he keeps you seated firmly in his lap

“Don’t you have something to do, princess?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought wrong angel.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, knowing full well that if you turn your head to look at him, you’ll see one on his face

“Consider this your punishment for ignoring me.”

Part of you can’t believe Dabi is making you finish your assignment instead of fucking you, especially when his cock is buried inside you

Another part of you can totally believe it, knowing all too well what a tease your boyfriend can be

He sits back and begins drawing lazy circles around your throbbing clit

Somehow, you manage to type out a paragraph, and you think that maybe you can do this

Until Dabi decides to flex beneath you, the seemingly innocent movement making his dick twitch inside of you, driving you crazy from the stimulation

You could have tears rolling down your cheeks as you beg him to bend you over your desk and just fuck you already

Instead, he’d have the audacity to coo softly in your ear:

“Come on baby girl, I thought you needed to concentrate?”

But the moment you finish that assignment and submit it to your Professor, he’s pulling out of you and standing up so fast that the chair he’d been sitting on falls over backwards

He quickly manages to get rid of the few articles of clothing the two of you have left between you

Before you know it, Dabi has you bent over the desk, one hand tangled in your hair and the other at your hip in a grip so tight that it's bound to leave bruises. He thrusts into you rapidly, setting a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin slapping together, and the obscene noise your cunt makes as he fucks into you fills the air of the studio apartment you share with him.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to cum around Dabi’s cock, already pent up and overflowing from almost an hour's worth of Dabi teasing you. Your thighs are glistening as you let go, screaming his name so loudly that your neighbours are sure to file another noise complaint against the two of you come the evening. He releases his grip on your hair, trailing his fingers down your body until they rest between your thighs, and begin to draw circles around your clit once more. Gone are the slow, teasing touches from earlier his only focus is on making you scream out his name out for a second time before he cums. Dabi leans forward, his chest pressing flush against yours back, practically laying on top of you as he rails you without mercy. You realise that you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercings pressing into your back, and the mental image it conjures makes you clench around him. Dabi lets out a soft groan, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me,” he pants, his voice breathy as it caresses your neck. “So good and tight for me, fuck. Come again angel, one more time, I wanna hear you scream my name.”

“God Dabi, yes! Yes! Yes!” You whine, trailing off into a hiss at one particularly hard thrust. “Right there baby, I’m so close, fuck!”

Without missing a beat, he shifts himself slightly, angling his cock in a way that Dabi knew would have you seeing stars and hurtling over that precipice you were dangling from. You were convinced you could feel the tip of him pounding against your cervix, dragging deliciously against your walls in all his pierced glory as he brushed past that sweet spot hidden inside of you with each and every punishing thrust. This new angle, abusing your g-spot while his fingers danced over clit, your nipples being teased as they were dragged and pushed across the surface of your desk; All of it was proving to be too much for you. That coil deep inside of you winding tighter and tighter, rendering you all but incoherent. Your tipping point however, was when your boyfriend sunk his teeth into the junction of your shoulder and neck. It wasn't quite hard enough to break the skin, but you knew without a doubt that he would leave one hell of a mark. The pain from his teeth sends pleasure arcing through your body like waves of electricity, going straight to your pussy, causing that tightly wound coil to snap as you threw yourself from the edge you had been hanging onto for dear life.

"Fuck Dabi, I'm coming, FUCK!" You sobbed, cheeks feeling suspiciously wet. The way your pussy fluttered around him was exactly what Dabi needed to find his own release, his pace becoming more and more erratic as he continued to thrust into you, working you both through the shared orgasm. Your name left Dabi’s mouth in a loud moan that was practically pornographic. He came inside of you, painting your walls with his seed, your combined release already beginning to seep out of you from the sheer amount of cum he was pumping into your cunt.

Eventually, his thrusts come to a halt. Your face was pressed uncomfortably against your desk, and you were pretty sure there was a pen trapped beneath you, but at that moment you didn't quite have it in yourself to care. Your mind was pleasantly fogged over from the post orgasm haze, and had someone asked for your name in that given moment, it probably would have taken you a few minutes to recall.

The first thing you became aware of, was Dabi pressing a series of gentle kisses to your neck, paying particular attention to the large bite mark he had left in the heat of the moment. It throbbed slightly, but not unpleasantly so, soothed by the delicate pressure of his lips. Slowly, he pulled out, a small noise of displeasure escaping you at the sudden emptiness you felt with the absence of his cock. He pulled you up, and guided you gently over to the bed where the two of you collapsed together. His arms encircled your waist, gathering you up against his chest. Fingers began to play with your hair as your awareness slowly began to return, Dabi's lips now pressed gently to the top of your head.

"That was..." you trailed off, still slightly breathless.

"Yeah." He agreed, tracing patterns along your skin.

"I'm going to need a shower," you winced, feeling his cum already beginning to dry on you. You already dreaded the idea of getting up to leave the bed, knowing that by the time you did, your limbs would be feeling like jelly and there would surely be an ache settled between your thighs.

"Not yet," your boyfriend breathed. "I'll get up and get us a towel in a minute. Just, lie here with me for now, okay?"

"Okay," you murmured against him, not needing too much convincing.

"Maybe I should help you with your work more often, princess," he suggested, but was met with no reply. Dabi craned his neck to look down at you, only to realise that you had managed to fall asleep in his embrace.

Here’s that tag you asked for lovely, hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing smut.

@simpforsadbois 💜

[jiminrings]

umm can we like do one where he touches y/n? Like he's all nervous but wants to make her feel good and she directs him through the whole thing?! Idk just sexy times hehehhe

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

jungkook sees you wearing a button-up blouse and all his inhibitions are ruined; alternatively, stem koo touches you for the first time

Jungkook’s shy — shy to the degree that he can’t find his voice when you quietly compliment him on his hair, but not shy enough to try and hold your hand whenever the two of you pass Hyeji or any desperate (yet unfortunate) classmate of his.

Jungkook is shy, but that doesn’t mean he’s subtle.

He’s not subtle with the way he looks at you from top to bottom with his eyes wide and his breathing shallow. He could swear up and down that he's quiet and have in fact given Jimin the spook of his lifetime at 2 in the morning when he creeped up on him, when all his poor friend wanted to do was drink water. Jungkook swears he's not obvious, but he's oblivious to the way you could hear his breathing.

He's not subtle with the way his eyes follow your movement and his speech is interrupted, unknowingly putting an end to your discourse on how every other beverage in the world, besides coffee, is considered decaf.

He actually forgets to breathe for a second and he feels every single thought vanish from his mind all at once, his focus only zeroing on you.

“Is that a new shirt?”

You're just about to present your argument to him when you suddenly feel the lack of noises of disbelief from your boyfriend, turning to him in the exact moment that he springs you an unrelated but very important question. "This shirt?"

Jungkook sees you point to yourself and he can't be subtle with how eagerly he nods. He decides then and there that maybe having no shame wouldn't be so bad after all, because seeing you chuckle at what seems to be an innocent question (and you still assume that it is) eases his embarrassment.

"Mhmm, it's new. You noticed?"

All the inhibitions loitering around his mind fly out the door the moment you respond to him, a happy yet surprised smirk on your face after seeing his interest. Jungkook's face, however, turns even more flushed because then does it click that what you're wearing isn't a part of a plan.

What you're wearing — as in the pale pink and silky button-up blouse, with the short sleeves, the relaxed lapel collar, and the low dip; as in the same blouse his eyes are fixated on, with the fitting and cut on you making it seem like it's only made for only you — is not a grand rouse to tease him.

The shirt you're wearing that gives you the loveliest silhouette and the sheer two handfuls of cleavage that Jungkook wants to volunteer to hold up, isn't a plan.

There is no plan for Jungkook.

There is no plan at all.

“Yoongs and Jin want to go to this bazaar later," your voice breaks up the static in Jungkook's mind which makes him gulp, "Jin’s just fixing up in the office and Yoongi’s picking up something from the post office.”

He's confused when you don't comment on your shirt further and you just go straight to telling your boyfriend about your own plans with your friends for the day, his mouth hanging open.

There's no intention nor malice behind your shirt that's meant for him or anyone else in that matter. He knows you're fond of giving him a nudge every now and then, but you never act on the same thing twice.

He knows that you wait for him, you respect his decisions, and love him so-dearly even if he's always caught in the middle of sexual innuendos that just fly over his head and you have to chuckle and shake your head throughout all of them.

Not only does Jungkook know, but he's dead sure that he wants nothing more in life right now than to hold your shirt open and suck on your boobs.

“I like this shirt.”

He comments all of a sudden and it sounds more like a confession than it is a statement, the straightforward and deeper tone of his voice making you peer your head at him.

You were initially supposed to go into the bathroom to change into your pants because your silk top doesn't exactly go with pajama shorts that have tiny hearts on them and have been worn on several occasions by Jin when all his clothes are in the laundry, but Jungkook shoots you a look that you can't deny.

He's sitting at the edge of your bed with his hand outstretched, the usual pout on his face is gone and surprisingly replaced with a clench on his jaw that you can't quite decipher yet.

“Thanks. I like it too," you giggle when he pulls you by your hips, making you tower over him while he's sat down. The look on his face looks happy, relaxed even, but there's still the clench on his jaw that you pay extra attention to.

Jungkook's hair is a little longer now and therefore much more noticeable when he combs it back with his hands, the lines that his fingers leave from weaving through them being indented. It shouldn't really be your main concern but you can't help but think that his jaw looks sharper this way, symmetrical to how his strong brows are visible with his hair out of the way.

You snap out of it when you realize that there's no furrow to Jungkook's eyebrows and that means he isn't angry or anything of the sort. There's no unease bothering him that you could think of, but it worries you even more when he looks even more stern now.

"Are you-"

You physically can't find the words because Jungkook takes it upon himself to grab you by your hips and make you hold onto his shoulders as the only way to make yourself stable, his mouth immediately diving into yours that makes you meld to him out of instinct.

There's something in the way he's kissing you because you could swear that it feels a little more desperate and needy, not that Jungkook's kisses never felt that way because they always do, but you could just feel it deeper in all senses.

You grunt the moment he accidentally bites on your bottom lip with his teeth, giving him a second to catch his breath but he feels absolutely helpless with the way he's now eye-level with your cleavage.

"Wasn't supposed to do this today."

He mutters to your mouth as soon as he desperately dives in back for a kiss, this time pulling you towards his body to make the both of you fall back to your bed, the sudden movement so unlike him that your squeak resonates but gets swallowed by his tongue anyways.

"Do what today?" you ask with only half a mind because to put it bluntly, Jungkook feels different today that his sudden barrage of deep and desperate kisses pulled the breath out of you.

Jungkook shifts beneath you and only then does it register in your mind that you're lying on top of him, gathering yourself to sit closely beside him instead and it's the moment you feel the bulge in his sweatpants graze the inside of your thigh.

“Jungkook?” you ask half-entertained and half-curious as to what made him this hard in a matter of minutes, oblivious to the gravity of your blouse and what's beneath it that drives him near the edge. “You need help?”

“No.”

He answers quickly yet he enunciates it as clear as he could, his voice heavy on the tip of his tongue with finality.

His answer leaves no room for discussion and the roughness in his voice makes you squint, tilting your head at him when he next spoke.

“I wanna help you.”

Jungkook pulls himself up from his lying position and kisses you languidly this time, easily making you somehow bored because it's tame compared to when he kissed you minutes ago, but you never get the chance to deepen it because he's trailing his lips to the shell of your ear, biting on it softly.

“Help me how?”

It's a loaded exhale that leaves your boyfriend as you basically just asked him to elaborate on how he wants nothing to do but to bury his face on your tits and change his place of residency to the valley between your chest.

Jungkook kisses down to your throat and he lets his tongue linger there, sucking so lightly that it makes you imagine if he's even doing so, but you can't tell because he's making your head tilt back on purpose.

“I can touch you, right?" he asks politely as he drags the tip of his tongue to your clavicle, his eyes looking up just as kindly for confirmation. "Can I?”

"Of course you could," you shiver when Jungkook places his thumbs underneath your arms and right to where the band of your bra extends from the cups, the goosebumps on your skin not going unnoticed because your boyfriend chuckles right to your ear.

“I was actually planning on asking you if I could try and touch you next week because I was too nervous,” he admits just as sure but not as forward this time, licking his lips as he lowers his head to meet your tits that are pushed together, only seeing the limited skin that your blouse allowed. “B-but you just looked too pretty today.”

You've come to realize in situations such as these, Jungkook says the first thing that comes to his mind. There's no filter and no barrier because he says what he needs to say the moment his mind throws in the words together. Could be a little incoherent at times, but his boyish charm is just something that proves to you how genuine he really is.

“Cute.”

Jungkook hears you mutter under your breath as you peer up at him, your roles being reversed as you're now the one who's sitting on the bed and he's the one towering over you, the sight of you being laid-back with your hands supporting you making the gears in his head turn.

He lurches at you again before you know it, just one more chaste kiss to replenish your taste on his tongue before he starts to unbutton your blouse.

“Calm down,” you chuckle when you see his fingers trembling but you make no move in helping him, in fact, you become even more relaxed as you look at him fiddle with the buttons.

“Sorry. I just really, really can’t wait to see you," he only apologizes half-heartedly, barely undoing the second button because he's so jittery and excited that he can't contain himself.

“Oh! Right,” you snort and it makes him wonder if you've suddenly had you eureka moment that's totally unrelated to the situation right now. “I forgot you’ve never seen neither my pussy nor my boobs.”

The harmless jab you make at him gets him to deadpan at you, scoffing with his whole chest at your teasing, magically curing his trembling fingers.

“Heh. I’m getting there, miss,” Jungkook rolls his eyes sarcastically and makes sure to stress on the last word to try and get into your nerves as much as you do with him.

He beats you in getting the last word because his hands get to the button that holds the peak fullness and weight of your tits, seeing with his own two eyes on how your boobs are full and almost spilling within your bra.

Jungkook gulps and he'd pay to see the replay of your tits that went from a tight cleavage to expanding fully after being released from the confines of your blouse, the unmistakable bounce of them spilling out from your top forever engraved in his mind.

“Oh my god.”

His hands work on autopilot to peel off your shirt, leaving you in your bra and shorts alone. Jungkook leans in from the side to look at your back so he could undo the clasp of your bra by himself, a heavy sigh leaving him when he feels the peak of your tits from underneath your bra press right to his chest when he undoes the clasp.

He tilts his head back to see his handiwork, his pupils dilating even more at the sight of your bra completely removed and your tits out for him to see.

Jungkook literally pauses right in front of you and for a second you're scared because you think you've broken him, a breathless giggle leaving your when you bring your thumb up to wipe the corner of his lips.

“You’re drooling, handsome.”

You're not sure whether it's because you pointed it out or it's the term of endearment, but atleast any of the two or perhaps everything you've done for the matter is what sets him off.

Jungkook wastes no time and lets his large hands squeeze your boobs tightly, moaning when he feels the soft yet firm flesh in his palms.

"That's it," you whimper when he squeezes them again, feeling the pressure out of your boobs being rubbed right off with how he rolls them in his hands, "just like that."

Jungkook's moan gets stuck in his throat when he rolls your nipples between his fingers and he gets a whine out of you, but he's positive that a chill ran up his spine and resided there the moment he squished your tits together.

The visual alone of your tits pushed together and cupped by his hands makes his cock twitch, a needy whine shamelessly tumbling out of his lips before he can even hold himself back.

"Fuck," he mutters as he licks his lips at the sight, turning his gaze to look at you. “Have I ever told you that I dreamed about your tits once?”

Jungkook's out of the blue statement makes you choke on your moan, willing your eyes open to look at him.

“What happened then?”

You ask as casually as you could to reflect your boyfriend who looks like he's just now remembered this tidbit at the heat of the moment, all while still rolling your tit between his hand while he plays with your nipple using the other.

“You let me suck on them,” he hums, giving you one of the sweetest smiles you've ever seen, suddenly stopping his ministrations so he can grip you by the shoulders while he speaks into the crook of your neck. “You let me suck on your tits for so long that I fell asleep with them in my mouth.”

The bluntness of his words shoot straight into your core, his hazy eyes smiling at you when you try to bounce back. It's admirable, really — looking at you looking at him like you could eat him up, all the while your hands are unconsciously holding his wrists, trying to put them back to your tits where they belong.

“You want that?” you coo to him when you feel him kiss the corner of your mouth. “I do have to leave in less than an hour though.”

Jungkook laughs and he knows you're serious, but he takes his chances anyway, knowing deep-down that he can't pry you away from your friends with a crowbar even if he wanted to.

“Do you really?” he play-whines to your neck as he kisses down the center of your chest, “can I tag along? I won’t talk the whole time.”

The laugh gets stuck in your throat the moment you feel Jungkook's mouth attach to your nipple, his tongue swirling boldly at the bud and the accompanying moan he has out of sheer enjoyment in sucking your boob render you helpless.

“It’s okay,” he hums with his mouth full of your boob, looking right at you when he suckles more harshly this time. “You’d let me do that next time, right?”

“R-right.”

It's only rare that Jungkook makes you speechless and your lack of words is something that shoots straight into his ego, feeling a lot more confident with the way your moans are amplified in his ear.

“I loved my dream that night,” he almost moans just by thinking about it, “remember when I said I couldn’t come over because Jimin needed my help with his thesis?”

You don't answer but Jungkook doesn't seem to like that, grazing his teeth on your nipple while he twists the other that it makes you jolt and actually think before your brain turns into mush the second after, vaguely recalling the time that he was talking about.

He's satisfied with the way you nod eagerly, a sweet smile that fills you up from the inside-out.

“I lied.”

“You lied?" you ask in disbelief but there's no real anger behind it. In fact, it even sounded like you were thoroughly amused. "You know how to lie?”

Jungkook breathlessly laughs to your jab, audibly 'ooh'-ing at your reply which makes you giggle even louder.

It's nice, actually, but there's another version of nice that you can't quite explain when Jungkook slaps your tit from the side and it makes your giggles cease, replaced with a moan that racks through you and makes your boyfriend tremble by the knees.

“I jerked off to the dream version of your tits,” he says with no shame while he furiously rubs your nipple in small circles, “and I cummed so, so hard in my hand that I felt too ashamed to see you that night.”

The dots only connect in your mind later on, realizing that Jungkook's voice did sound too hoarse and rushed for him to be only irritated at Jimin's thesis which he could eat for breakfast.

“Oh baby,” he hears you moan and it only makes him desperate to make you feel even better, his hand on the groove of your spine when you arch your back in pleasure, “you’re so good at this.”

“I am?”

His usual shy demeanor, especially from being praised, is something you highly treasure and is currently being showcased at the moment, keening from the warmth of your words.

"You are."

“I’m not gonna lie,” Jungkook chuckles to himself and the deepness of it makes you look for his warm touch even further, “it’s gonna take me like, four business days to not be nervous and finally eat you out.”

There's something about Jungkook that is unshakeable all the way down to your bones, seeing to it that he's in the middle of sucking and grasping at your tits, but he's also telling you how nervous he actually is and is making you laugh with his candidness.

“Don’t have to be nervous, Koo. You make me feel good anyway,” you pinch at his cheeks and he melts at your touch for a second, but tries to worm out of it as it hits him that he shouldn't be the one who's taken care of today. “But okay. I’ll wait for four business days to have you eat me out.”

Jungkook laughs with his whole body when you go along with him and his specific timeframe when it comes to psyching himself out, taking the time to see you laugh and the way your face turns into his favorite view before his hand goes elsewhere.

You're perfect, actually.

"You're wet."

Jungkook trails his finger on the center lining of your pajama shorts, and it reminds you of the fact that you haven't cummed yet and it seems that your boyfriend's not quite done with you yet.

“And whose doing is that, hm?”

Jungkook toothily grins, kissing you sweetly on the lips that you feel him smiling throughout. "Me."

He lowers himself down for him to be eye-level with your clothed core, his nose brushing against the lining of your shorts that it makes you writhe briefly, your shuffling coming to a halt when he holds you in place by holding your hands.

Jungkook's eyes are easily fixated on the shape of you that's curved into the fabric of your shorts, the wet spot that's growing the more he takes his time staring right back at him.

You clearly didn't expect it, which is why you obscenely moan to look down and see Jungkook diving in and inhaling you directly, his nose brushing against your clothed clit in the process.

“You smell so sweet.”

His lips press ever so gently to your mound that it makes you shudder with how soft he does it, looking down to see Jungkook closing his eyes who looks up at you with hooded eyes at the same time.

Jungkook winks before he closes his eyes and wastes no time in kissing your core as how he'd kiss your mouth, his pressure just as rough when he's desperate.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" you whine needily because as much as he's giving you, he's not giving you all because you realize that there's still a barrier between you and his tongue. “Y-you sure? Four business days? Can’t I have a rush order here?”

He finds it amusing that you're trying to banter with him in order to level yourself, and it's cute actually, but Jungkook knows better.

“Nah. I'm imploding on the inside from trying to psych myself out, y’know.”

He carelessly replies and before you can even add into the conversation, your eyes train on your boyfriend who's suddenly stopped, a plead growing in the back of your throat.

Jungkook closes his fist but only juts out his middle finger that’s in a closed knuckle, looking as if he's knocking.

"W-what are you doing?" all the words die down at the tip of your tongue when you feel his knuckle trail up at the seam of your shorts, stopping at the spot where you shudder and let out the faintest of whines.

"Don't you mean who?"

Jungkook drives his knuckle into your clothed clit and the shrill moan he gets makes his skin light up on fire, taking pleasure in seeing you writhing underneath him and moaning his name.

“Am I doing good?” he asks as he drills in his knuckle, hiking up your leg on his shoulder as he uses the extra space from beside you to his advantage

“You’re doing great, baby,” you almost feel like crying with how good you feel, willing your eyes open to see Jungkook who's just as lost in pleasure as you are, “so, so great.”

“Are you s-seriously,” you ask in between moans, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach intensify in waves, “gonna make me cum in my shorts?”

Jungkook works even more diligently now that you mention it, the sweat from his forehead dripping all the way down to his neck as you make the happy mistake in observing on how fucked out he looks while making you feel good.

“I can clean you up. Suck your cum out as much as I can.”

Jungkook hits the nail in the head because you find yourself gushing before it could even register in your mind that's consumed in a high.

And true to his word, Jungkook does suck up the proof of his doing so eagerly that you have to pull him up by his hair gently. “S-sensitive."

Your boyfriend lets you regain your breath as he proudly lies down beside you, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand as he looks fondly at you.

Jungkook looks so proud of himself and you make sure to tell and make him feel just as much, a sincere kiss pressed on his temple.

“Not gonna help me out of my shorts?”

“Four business days.”

You change to your actual bottoms in the bathroom and you have to grip at the edge of the sink because your knees keep trembling, actually chuckling to yourself with how this situation fills you up with pride.

You come out to find Jungkook sitting on the edge of your bed in a prim and proper situation, having changed into your jersey that he takes the liberty of stealing and wearing every time he comes over.

He's holding your bag in his hands, flashing your phone and the notification that Jin's coming home in ten minutes and Yoongi's arriving not far off.

Jungkook has a blush on his cheeks and he's back to his sheepish state, nuzzling your neck in comfort while you smother his face in kisses.

“Did I do good?”

“You did perfect, Koo.”

.

.

.

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[the-bau-quinjet]

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

-

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

-

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

-

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

-

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

-

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

-

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

[bigfemdomenergy]

Suit and Tie

»»-————　♔　————-««

Anime: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Word Count: 1800+ words.

Summary: You’re a hero, he’s a villain, and you’re dating in secret. You two spot each other at a villain event where you’re undercover, and things get steamy.

Warnings: Grinding, vaginal penetration, riding, choking.

Note: Dabi likes getting choked. Change my mind.

»»-————　♔　————-««

Was it a top-secret mission no one was supposed to know about? Yes. Were you meant to be taking it seriously? Absolutely. However, sometimes things don’t go as planned and sometimes, you’re hornier than you thought you were, and sometimes, just sometimes, your boyfriend could be more provoking than you could ever imagine.

You stood next to Twice and Himiko as they chatted. Villains were everywhere, mixing and mingling, but the one you were searching for, according to Himiko, had more important business. Hopes and spirits crushed? Sure, but you could work with that. If Dabi arrived, he’d only be a distraction.

“What’s taking him so long?” Himiko complained, referring to Tomura.

You took a sip from your glass of wine. “Maybe he’s applying some lip balm. We all know he needs it.”

The two snickered at your comments. Speaking of the devil, the lights dimmed, and, on the stage, he appeared. Everyone quieted and turned to Tomura when a hand slid up your lower back to your waist. You leaned into the body sidling up beside you.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you said quietly.

Dabi glanced down at you. “...that was before I heard you were. Lonely without me?”

He looked good. Dabi adorned the appropriate clothes for an event like this—suit, tie, vest, and a coat hanging on his shoulders. You were expecting a hint of red, but it was black and gray down to his shoes. It didn’t matter. He was more dressed up than when you usually saw him, and you couldn’t help but lick your lips.

“What?” he asked, eyes on the stage though he pulled you closer to him.

You wanted to ruin him. The thought of stripping him of his so clean and well-refined look, unbuttoning his perfectly ironed shirt, watching him grow hard through his tailored pants...well, you always knew you were a horny sinner, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

You glanced over to the stage, having heard nothing, and weighed your options. On one hand, you could fuck Dabi, on the other hand, you could drag yourself through the event and write a report afterwards.

You were not an idiot. 

“So, you’re only here for me?” you asked, smirking.

Eyes on you. “Well, I thought you’d be bored.”

“Correct.” You turned into him, running a hand up his chest as you tiptoed and placed your lips to his ear. “Won’t you entertain me, darling?”

With that, you slipped out of his grip and made your way through the crowd, not once looking back, sure you had him wrapped around your finger. The event was held in an underground location underneath an abandoned building. There were several hallways branching around with dozens of rooms, and your footsteps echoed as you headed for the best one. You had scouted the area first for a different reason, and to think you’d use that effort for this.

Footsteps followed yours and when you turned the corner, you glanced over to see Dabi strolling nonchalantly after you. The two of you played this small game of chase for a few minutes until you found the room and slipped in. Nothing grand. Several chairs, couches, and tables.

You placed your glass of wine down on the table, sitting on top and waiting. Dabi came in a few seconds later, eyes hungry. He closed the door and you heard it click as he locked it. With one hand, Dabi loosened his tie as he strode over like a predator about to pounce on prey. You both knew if anyone were the predator here though, it would be you. 

“I’m wondering if you only see me to fuck,” he grumbled, arms coming up on either side of the table to cage you. His tie was loose, hanging around his neck. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You could have told me you’d be here.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, batting your eyelashes as you took his tie. “You know it’s hard to get away from hero duties. I also can’t help it that every time I see you, I want to fuck you. What? Do you want to kiss a little and cuddle before I leave again?”

“Can’t we do both?” He bumped his head against yours affectionately. 

“Hm.” You picked up your glass of wine and tipped the rest of it back, aware you two might knock it over. Dabi grunted and pressed his lips to yours, surprising you. His tongue came out, pushing between your lips, and wine slipped from your mouth. 

He pulled away, slyly licking his lips. “The wine’s not bad. A little sweet.”

“I know.” You wiped your chin. “I have good taste. We probably have an hour or two. Clothes off, love.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He removed the coat and tossed the vest, hands fumbling to unbuckle his belt as if he couldn’t do it fast enough. You pulled him onto the table, and he scooched up to get comfortable while you straddled him. “Hands.” He held them out and you tied them with his tie before putting them over his head. “They stay there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re so good for me, darling,” you praised and watched him shudder as you unbuttoned his shirt. Popping one open slowly, down to the next, ravenous. Your mouth was on him again, teeth clashing, and he grinded up against you, groaning. Breaths, small gasps and moans, and the rustle of clothing. Your hands were all over his chest and he was trying his best to keep his above his head. 

“Ma’am, please,” Dabi gasped, grinding harder against you to no avail. He was too hard for simple kissing and biting, and when your tongue flicked out against a new mark you made on his skin, Dabi hissed. “Ma’am.”

“What is it, love?” You sat back up, tracing the staples on his skin and making him tremble under your touch. Four love bites should be enough for now.

“I can’t—” he choked back a moan as you pinched his nipple. “I want you, I want you, I want you. Please, ma’am. I need to feel you.”

“But you are?” You grinded against him again, a little annoyed you couldn’t feel much with your dress. With a huff, you lifted it up, glad it was short enough for it not to go everywhere. Dabi whined at the sight of you, aware of how wet your panties were. 

“Please.” He squirmed, breathing heavily. “Please. I want to be inside you. I want to feel you around me. Please, ma’am. Please. Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

You smirked. “Well, since you’re begging so well and you’ve been such a good boy, how can I deny you?”

“Thank you, thank you, ma’am,” he rushed breathlessly, eyes wide and blown open to see you as you slid his pants down and took his cock out. It was oozing with precum, hard and pink, and a simple touch of your hand had him gasping and writhing, head tossing and turning as gibberish spilled out of his mouth. 

“Eyes on us, my love,” you whispered as you slid your panties to the side. Dabi zeroed in on your actions, chest heaving up and down, hands in fists on top of his head. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to be inside you or else he was going to burn the whole place down. 

You guided his head to your slit, rubbing on it, not yet in. Dabi whimpered and whined. “Please, please, ma’am. Fuck me, please! I just want—ohh, fuck! Fuck! Shit!”

You moaned, sliding down on him, clenching as he filled you up. Dabi gasped and groaned, squirming so much he was rubbing inside you, hot and throbbing. 

“Tight. You...can I—can I touch you?” Dabi asked desperately, hands fidgeting with the knot of the tie. 

“No.” You rolled your hips and he groaned, arching his back. At this point, both his shirt and pants were crumbled, and his hair was a dishevelled mess. Mission accomplished, but you weren’t done with him yet. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for me, sweetheart?”

“Nghh, hah, yes but...but I want to—”

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down on him. Dabi moaned so loud, you were a little wary if anyone could hear him from the party. Hopefully not. 

You kept bouncing on him, chasing your own pleasure, hands on his chest. Dabi met each of your thrust with his own, hips jerking forward. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room. Dabi’s arms were shaking above his head as he kept groaning and whining, “Please, can I touch you? Can I touch you, ma’am? I want to touch you. Please? Please, ma’am. I need to touch you. Want to feel you.”

The tie around his wrists was sparking with flame and you wanted to reprimand him, but fuck, he was thrusting so far in you, you couldn’t even speak. Instead, one hand reached up and wrapped around his throat. Dabi’s eyes all but rolled into the back of his head as you squeezed lightly, making him gasp. Yet still, groans escaped his lips. 

“Close,” he wheezed. “I’m—ma’am. Cum. I’m gonna cum.”

Your movements grew more erratic, the two of you making the table groan and creak. He was hitting you in all the right spots, and you were about to cum yourself. 

“Ah, take it out,” Dabi choked, aware you two hadn’t brought a condom. You smiled and kept on going. “No, ma’am, ma’am! I’m close!”

“It’s fine,” you managed to ground out, squeezing tighter down on his throat. “Cum inside me, Dabi. I want you to fill me up. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck! Cumming!” The tie around Dabi’s wrists went up in flames and his arms shot out, grabbing your waist and pulling you down against him. Hard. You gasped at the pleasure shooting up your spine, adding more pressure on Dabi’s neck. He kept gasping and spluttering, hips moving as fast as he could. Cum shot inside you, wet and hot, and you moaned, tossing your head back as you orgasmed. Dabi cursed, feeling you tighten around him, losing his mind.

Panting. The two of you thrusted slowly, riding it out, coming down from your high. Both your cum and his was dripping down your thighs, but your head was clearing enough to take in Dabi’s fucked out look. Sweat was dripping down his skin, a button on his shirt had somehow popped off, and his hair stuck to his face. He lay gasping beneath you, but his eyes were on you, roaming along your body.

“Ha.” You glared down at him, hand still around his throat but not squeezing. He loved its comforting presence.  “Looks like someone couldn’t follow orders.”

Dabi shivered. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I couldn’t—”

“No excuses.” You glanced over at the clock on the wall. “Plenty of time. Naughty boys who don’t listen get punished, right, love?”

Dabi swallowed a sob, knowing he was equally going to love and hate this. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

[urlkssknt]

loving can be easy

warnings!! nsfw!! mature content

dad!johnny x wife!reader

the sun shone brightly, casting a warmth that was almost unbearable with its rays. johnny sat at the table that was accompanied with a large umbrella, trying to stay hidden from the blazing sun, much to his dismay, from spending the past week in the sun, a golden glow had accompanied his skin. to compliment his new tan, his wife dressed him up in a white silk button up and black trousers. the sleeves of the shirt were short, just long enough to tease the muscle he was hiding underneath. mentally, johnny thanked jaehyun for forcing him to attend a gym, the time spent there feeling all gross and sweaty paid off when johnny caught his wife ogling him whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. sat by the older man's side, with a book also in his hands, was his son jacob. he had grown tired from playing with his baby sister with the sun blaring down on them and went to seek peace and refuge, in the form of his dad. they had both sat in silence, enjoying the quiet and calm atmosphere.

as the two boys were reading, a little further from them, out of earshot but still in eyesight, was y/n and chunhwa. intentionally, y/n had matched the colour of her dress to her husband's shirt. her soft white dress stopped at her knees and gave a perfect view of her collar bones and slender neck, free of any markings. y/n held her daughter's hand as they both tried to find the prettiest flowers to make a bouquet from. so far they had been successful.

"i'm tired," the four year old groaned as her skin felt sticky with sweat. y/n chuckled before lifting her daughter into her arms.

"let's go back to daddy and jake, hmm?" y/n watched as chunhwa rested her small head against her shoulder. the hot weather had taken a toll on both of the kids. sweetly, y/n caressed her daughter's back.

within a few minutes they had reached the cobblestone path that lead them to the table that johnny and jake were occupying. the sight of her older brother caused chunhwa to stir, wanting to be put down so she could run to him. in her childish eyes, there was no one more perfect than her older brother. chunhwa ran to him as fast as her small little legs could.

"don't run!" jacob said with a scowl, the action didn't go unnoticed by his dad, before scooting in his chair to make room for his sister. jacob began to speak softer at the feeling of johnny’s intense stares, "you could have fell." chunhwa didn't mind getting told off by her brother because it meant he was paying attention to her, just like her dad would pay attention to her mum.

although, there were four chairs spread around the circular table, johnny found himself gesturing for his wife to sit with him. he tucked his chair out slightly, scraping against the gravel on the floor, and held his hands out for her to join him on his lap. johnny always had to have his wife within his arms whenever she was near, she was like an enigma.

"did you find any nice flowers?" johnny asked as he rested his arms around y/n's waist, bringing her close to him as he possibly could. y/n nodded as she chose a single pink flower, from the bunch that were collected, and rested it on johnny’s ear. as sweet as sickeningly possible, johnny smiled at his wife before pressing a chaste kiss to the side of her head.

as soon as the sun began to set, the family of four moved indoors, where the air conditioning was blasting and they were collecting all the items of the second home. johnny had originally planned to buy the cottage they were residing in as a birthday gift for y/n but somehow his father beat him to it and offered it as a wedding gift, claiming that it was all his mother's idea.

despite the heat, the two children were able to fall asleep peacefully in their individual bedrooms, even though it took everything out of y/n to get chunhwa used to sleeping in her own bed. having zero energy left, y/n sighed as she collapsed onto the bed, johnny snorting from beside her. "get your cute ass up, we have bags to pack." he said from his seat on the floor, surrounded by clothes.

"john, i'm so tired," y/n rolled over on the bed to get closer to her husband's side, "can we not just do this tomorrow morning?" with one glance at her exhausted expression, johnny sighed as he left the clothing articles on the floor and joined y/n on the bed. he slipped an arm under her head as the other rested against her waist, rubbing small circles on her hip. y/n let out a content hum as she began to close her eyes.

johnny couldn't suppress the desire to hold her face, his warm hand leaving her hip and caressing her cheeks with his thumb. it had been so long since they had a moment where it was solely just the two of them; no work, no kids, nothing.

“you better not complain in the morning,” johnny began to pepper his wife’s face with kisses, showering her with attention. y/n's eyes fluttered open as she was about to say something to defend herself. however, her husband saw it was an opportunity to kiss her senseless. his hand moved down to cup her jaw as he slowly but deeply kissed her, making her loose all senses. y/n's fingers crushed the silk material of his shirt as she grasped onto his chest.

"the kid's are asleep," she breathed as johnny had pulled back for a moment. only for him to shift their positions, y/n was no longer on her side but lead on her back, staring up at him with full blown eyes. she fought to let out a groan as he unbuttoned his shirt off of him, only to expose his bare torso to her. within the next few seconds, johnny clambered over her again, lips attached with hers, hands trailing down her body leaving a hot burning trail in it's midst. he had nestled himself sweetly between her thighs, a position that they hadn't been in a long time. his lips began to trail down south, teeth grazing against her neck, biting at her skin every so often, before softly kissing her clothed stomach. "how about we make baby number three, hmm?" the idea of her stomach swelling with his child, had increasingly become too much for him to handle. johnny looked up at his wife, the dark look of lust dancing in his eyes. "i'll fuck you on this bed till you become pregnant with my baby," the whispers of his lewd words in y/n's ears left her biting her lip to conceal her moans, it didn't help that johnny’s wandering hands were dipped under her dress, so close to where she needed him most. he could see from her heaving chest and the desire burning in her eyes, that she needed this as badly as he did.

“come on mommy, don’t you want me to fill you up?” johnny’s fingers slipped past her soaked underwear, pressing just the tips of his fingers against her clit. the other hand squeezed the flesh of her soft breast, perfectly accommodating to the size of his palm. y/n whimpered at the sensations, red heat flushing her cheeks. “of course you do,” johnny scoffed at his wife’s face, so desperate for him, “you’re such a slut for me that you already gave me two kids.”

"i swear to god johnny seo, if you don't touch me you won't be having anymore kids," the demanding tone of y/n's voice didn't sit well with johnny’s fat ego and she knew it wouldn't, it would only rile him up. johnny aggressively smashed his lips against hers as a way to shut his wife up. there was no longer any sense of sweetness, just pure desire. he let out a small groan at the feeling of fingers brushing against his bulge, as y/n hurriedly began to unbuckle his designer belt and push his slacks down. a harsh curse was muttered under johnny’s breath as y/n groped his length.

the pair rid themselves of all articles of clothing, leaving them bare in each other’s presence and wandering hands. johnny’s lips found his partner’s once again, kissing with such intensity that he stole all her oxygen. y/n moans were swallowed by johnny as he quickly eased himself into her warm cunt. no matter how often they indulged in each other, the tightness of y/n’s cunt never differed, even after birthing his children.

slowly, johnny began to rock his hips into y/n’s, not being able to stay still in her warmth for long. “you won’t leave this bed till your pregnant, do you understand?” his demand was met with the sound of his wife moaning in agreement under him. johnny smirked, his face full of pride. he had barely touched y/n yet she was already drunk off his ministrations.

johnny knew his wife’s body like the back of his hand. he knew where to tickle to make y/n a giggling mess. he knew where the scar, from when she fell over trying to chase after him, was on her knee. he also knew where to touch to give his wife the most pleasurable orgasm, that would leave her senseless.

one hand fisted into the bedsheets to hold himself whilst johnny’s other hand rubbed small circles against y/n’s sensitive and swollen clit, her walls clenched in response to the overbearing pleasure.

“right there john,” y/n managed to mewl out, she was too afraid that if she said anything more her children might wake up. the last thing either of them wanted was for one of their kids to walk in on them.

johnny lowered himself till he was near y/n’s ear, “ah, did mommy forget what to call me?” despite her disgust at the title, johnny knew that his wife loved it, he could practically feel the effect it had on her and her throbbing walls.

“d-daddy...” y/n threw her head back at the feeling of her husband kissing along her chest, eager to leave marks in the form of multiple blooming bruises. y/n gasped at the feeling of johnny’s lips around her breast, he lightly tugged at her nipple, eliciting a cry from his wife.

the bedroom was quiet, y/n and johnny trying their best to keep their volume at a minimal level. johnny let out a guttural groan when he felt his wife’s cunt spasming around his dick. he was so close. his thrusts became sloppier before completely stilling as his cum filled the walls of flesh. exhaustion slowly began to overcome the man, soft hot breath falling between his wife’s neck.

“i hope we have another boy,” johnny’s voice was low. having no more strength, his body draped over y/n’s, crushing her under him so the poor woman couldn’t leave him, not that she ever would. y/n raked the dark locks of her husband’s soft hair between her fingers. a soft smile falling on her face when she noticed johnny leaning into her touch ever so slightly.

“what do you think about twins?”

[burnedbyshoto]

arrière-pensée

— When you start a new job, you never thought you would come face with Most Wanted Ground Zero who decides that you’re going to help him make a point.

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pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, robbery kink, consented noncon, public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, spanking, slight gunplay, sadist bakugou, machoist reader, blow job, character death, murder, blood, gun violence, knife violence

word count: 8,550

a/n: literally fuck me. I super fucking liked this prompt had clearly had too much fun because this was not supposed to be a long fic. anyways, I hope you like the idea of big bad evil bakugou fucking you to make a point. also, just trust me on the details on y/n I make, please. make sure to comment on all fics you enjoy, all authors love them! carefully read the warnings!!!!

kinktober day 4 main kink: robbery kink

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“As for our latest news, the city of Chiba has decided to close the current twelve-month reigning search for the missing victim of the Chiba Bank robberies. However, known criminal known only by his alias Ground Zero who has been on our countries most wanted list on account of robberies, murder, and rape is still on the ru—”

Click.

You frowned as you threw the TV remote onto the bed, unease sitting on your stomach.

Pre-work jitters were a normal thing, right?

You looked at the full-length mirror in front of you, your finger pressed against a black pencil skirt, trailing up to brush against the white silk shirt you wore. Today is a special day, you reminded yourself as you lined closer to the mirror. Your hand grabbing the dark red lipstick you owned and as smoothly as you could, smoothed the cream over your lips.

The first day working at the esteemed Yaoyorozu Banking Inc., the world's most influential and wealthiest bank. Getting an interview at the prestigious bank had been a once in a lifetime opportunity, your incredible resume and references without a doubt getting your foot in the door to simply be a bank teller. 

Yes, to simply be a bank teller, you had to know at least three languages (you knew English, Japanese, Mandarin, and Spanish), had to know someone with affiliations to either the Yaoyorozu family or the hiring team (your number one reference was none other than the CEO and Founders daughter), and have a certain intellect (there was an admittance test to even qualify to fill out a job application). It had been a rather challenging admittance for you, especially as they had only been one job opening. Frankly, you think your only reason for winning the spot was due to Yaoyorozu Momo’s hand.

Still, it mattered not in the end because you had the job—no use of trying to figure out just what made you stand out so much.

Pushing away from the mirror, you studied yourself over one last time.

Your outfit was exactly as they required it to be, your pink hair styled appropriately out of your face, and the slight gleam of your pantyhose made you heave a heavy sigh.

You were as ready as you could ever be. 

With one final look into the mirror, you tilted your head at the gold-colored contacts you wore, a symbol of the job you held at Yaoyorozu Bankings and thought it made you look like a whole other person. No time to dwell on that, you decided, slipping on your watch and red-bottomed high heels and left your apartment. 

It was time to work.

The commute to work was dull if you ignored the way your stomach twisted and turned in the thought of arriving at work. What would the security be like, at the bank, you couldn’t help but wonder? Would there be bulletproof glass? Ten security guards?

All the banks you’ve ever had the pleasure of entering had always been handled with a small waiting room for clients and a five-inch thick bulletproof glass wall. But that had been at smaller, local banks, not anything like where you were about to begin working. Yaoyorozu Banking had several different buildings designated for the different types of jobs located within their name. You did, however, know that the smallest only two-story building was for their in-person bank tellings. That is where you would be working. Two floors for an essential part of their business, and you had no idea what it looked like as you had no account with them, and your interview had taken place at their headquarters. 

By the time the bus had pulled up to the stop, you would need to get off of, you could feel the nerves of the upcoming day begin to sit heavily on your bladder. You could feel the eyes of everyone else on the bus staring at you as you exited the vehicle. Everyone knew what this stop was for and had undoubtedly seen the gold contacts when you passed by them.

Each step of your heel against the sidewalk's paved concrete seemed to echo distinctly in your ear. It was rather odd, you noted as you walked toward the bank's building, that despite a large number of employees and patron’s the bank had, it seemed almost deserted. Looking down at the watch on your wrist, you knew immediately that you weren’t running late. As a matter of fact, you would be running precisely on time, showing up to your on-call site fifteen minutes before you were due. 

Regardless, you took each stride in your step as powerfully and as in control as you could. Your gaze narrowed, focused, intense as you stared at the revolving crystal clean glass doors. With one last supporting thought about how you were absolutely going to make sure that you would end this day in success, you pushed through.

White marble floors, glossy white walls with black and gold accents met your gaze immediately. Despite the apparent shock of seeing the indoors of this lavish, distinctly rich bank, you continued moving as if unaffected. The clicking of your heels against the floor was the only thing letting you know that you were, in fact, moving. 

Twelve men lined the lobby hallway, each tall, bulky with sunglasses and earpieces on. Although you couldn’t see their eyes, you had without a doubt that they were looking at you as you passed them to a set of large oak and gold accented doors.

There, a smiling woman greeted you. Her smile is warm and gentle as her own silver-colored eyes welcome you, and your spine stiffens at the appearance of information that passes through your vision.

Name: Fuwa Mawata Position: Greeter & Inspector.

“Ah, welcome Uzume-chan!” she cheered in greeting, her mascara painted eyes closing in greetings. You said your hello’s, your voice breathy with the shock of this bank's high technological advantages. “I see that this is your first day here, and luckily for you, no one is around, so I may quickly inform you of entrance clearance!”

“T-That sounds perfect!” you admit, your smile feeling just the littlest bit too tight, but your hands held your bag tighter in your grip.

“Wonderful! Well, here at Yaoyorozu’s Banking Inc., we have a strict business protocol for both our clients and our employees! First, as you may or may not know, all of the building's operations take place on the floor above, and due to the clients we have, it's a bit… unorthodox in our approach. We are the only bank with no bulletproof glass between you, the bank tellers, and our customers!”

What now?

“Our clients are so finicky about being treated with such distrust that they’d rather have this approach!” Fuwa laughed as if there was absolutely nothing wrong with such statements. “So, to approach the bank, you must pass by me! But do not worry! We have never, ever within our nearly century-long reign, have ever been robbed or seized before. Our twelve men out there are true experts, and I have the only button to inform the police right here! Everyone, so both clients and employees, must leave their personal belongings here, and I will search you for any potential weapons!”

“I’m not allowed my phone up?” you asked, a bit confused by this rather outlandish set of rules.

“I’m afraid not! You’ll be so busy working the entire time you won’t be needing it. You are allowed to come and retrieve while on lunch since the break room and lunchrooms are down here on the first floor!” Fuwa confirmed, her head nodding in confirmation. “I understand that it can be a bit different, I myself am not yet used to it, but these rules are in place so that every one of our clients and employees can remain safe!”

You fight off the frown that dangerously tries to grow on your face by nodding, handing over your purse to Fuwa, “That makes sense.”

“Glad to know that it isn’t an issue for you, Uzume-chan! Now, if you’ll step past me, I’ll be checking for any concealed weapons, and you will be met with your supervisor as soon as you enter the second floor!”

It takes exactly two seconds for Fuwa to complete her scan of your body. She explained with a wink that her contacts allowed her to find any potentially dangerous weapon on a person's body. “No matter where it might be,” she added with a tilting head and a bright grin. “By the way, I love the watch! It’s so beautiful, it must’ve been expensive!”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm as you gently touch the watch, your finger tapping the watch’s face twelve times while your smile is unparalleled as you think of the man who had gifted you the object. “Thank you, it was a gift.”

With that, you climbed up the stairs as sophisticatedly, brushing a few strands of curly pink hair out of your face as you enter the main floor, and you realize immediately that the quiet of the first floor and outdoors does not reach this floor.

The second floor is loud.

People with their names and occupations flashing within your view walking from table to table, stacks of paper in their arms, arguing, or talking with those around them. It was a sight to behold, indeed. But a voice interrupted your thoughts, and before you could honestly assess the situation at hand, you were whisked away, a detailed explanation of your job and expectations were. 

Unexpectedly, Fuwa had been right.

This job had no downtime. 

You sat on a leather seat at a desk to handle the clients. Much like old banks out west, your desks were much higher than those you were servicing; most often, you had to look down at them like a mother to a child as you worked. 

Your supervisor, who went by the name Togeike Chikuchi, was over your shoulder for about an hour, detailing and correcting your every action until you cleared ten clients entirely on your own. At this moment, she sat at the desk to your left, chatting with her client with a bright sunny smile that you had thought for a moment she was incapable of. 

It was 14:23 when you were with a client who was currently wondering if sending her ‘poor niece who lived with her amazing female roommate’ ¥500,000 was enough for a week worth of groceries. Of course, it took everything in you to bite your tongue and ask her if she had ever bought her own groceries before.

“Well, if you’re asking me, I think that’s a perfect amount!” you smile pleasantly, watching as who you’re pretty sure to be a CEO of a rice tycoon company. “If anything, you can always question her if that was enough the next time you speak. Everyone is always so different when it comes to groceries.”

“Ah, I suppose so!” she laughs good naturally, her arms rising to press a slip of paper with her account information on it on your desk. “I always spend almost—”

She cut off, and for the first time, you didn’t have to wonder why.

There was an echoing, distant sound of four straight bangs. 

It seemed to have been heard collectively by the entire second floor because, for a moment, there was a silence that wrapped the whole floor. 

Mumbles and murmurs soon flooded the floor, and a frown pressed against your lips as you stared at the staircase. What happened?

“Oh, I bet you that dumb janitor downstairs dropped his vacuum again!” your client huffed, her eyes rolling while you transferred the amount she requested from her account over into her nieces. “He did that the last time I was here too! Except it only caused two loud bangs like that! How immaturely irresponsible of him! Unable to do his job correctly and as a janitor at that? How much lower could he possibly get?”

You, once again, bite your tongue, choosing instead to laugh in faux humor over her rant. The agreeing lie on your tongue moments from being let out when a new sort of movement at the corner of your eye stopped you.

Climbing up from the staircase was a man who took heavy, powerful steps. You were getting used to the way these clients carried themselves. They all tended to stride authoritatively, commandeering all attention to them. Despite their dominative pace, they were almost light on their feet, their steps relatively silent as they walked from corner to corner. But this man who made his way up the stairs was heavy, barbaric, and fierce with every echoing footstep he took.

It was as if the world slowed down as the entire room went to stare at him, and an ice-cold shiver crept down your spine as you took him in.

Ash blond, spiky unruly hair. Splattered red blood covering his exposed arms and neck. A black get-up looked akin to a secret black op team with the black army vest, black tank underneath, black army pants, black combat boots, and strap around his right thigh that seemed to carry two guns and knives. As a matter of fact, his vest also showcased the copious amount of ammunition he had.

It was Ground Zero.

Fear plunged through you as he rose a single hand to the ceiling, a sickening smirk spreading on his face as the world seemed to slow down. Many clients chose to turn to look the second his finger pulled on the trigger.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Shrieks erupted through the floor, and you watched as everyone, including yourself, hit the deck. Your body trembled with nervous fear as the gun firing stopped.

“Everybody get the fuck up.”

It was a low voice, gravely, and course with evident past strain. You looked across the way to Togeike, who looked just about as fearful and terrified as you felt. 

You didn’t dare to move, and by the looks of it, none of your coworkers did either. There was no panic button on this floor, and the only way to the switch was at Fuwa’s desk. A desk that couldn’t be reached unless passing by the man with black paint smeared across most of his face in a strategic way that rendered him anonymous by all photographic and video evidence. 

“I don’t think I fucking stuttered,” Ground Zero sneered, a light, fickle chuckle erupting low and deep in his chest as the sound of scared whimpers and silent sobbing began to pick up around the room. You didn’t need to know who was making those noises; after all, you knew what everyone was already thinking: will I be killed next? There was a loud bang a bit too near to your body, and you couldn’t help but scream in tandem with everyone else on the floor and the distinctive, irreplicable sound of someone choking on their blood. “I said, everyone, get the fuck up.”

Flight or fight were always two instincts you were taught about in school. Two altering, opposite reactions to being placed in stressful situations, but right now, you were in that third, lesser-known option: freezing.

“It’s like you elite bastards are begging to fucking die!” he laughed joyously, and you felt tears push to your eyes as another resounding bang shake through your body, your ears ringing with the noise. The now becoming familiar sound of a body hitting the floor dead and bleeding sending a sickening bubble through your throat.

But you pulled yourself up, your body trembling like a leaf as you stared at the infamous criminal who was merely smirking at the two dead bodies of clients who continued to bleed out on the floor as those around them cried.

“So, even with all the money in the goddamn world, you damn elitist are still damn fucking cry babies!” he cried with unrestrained, unleveled glee and anger. “Oh, this was the perfect place to choose as my final exit from the world.”

Your breath stops when he turns on you, his blood-red eyes locking on yours, and you can feel the hairs on your arm rising in unsettling knowing.

“Aren’t you a pretty looking whore,” he smirked, his hands putting his gun back into its holster, his heavy feet booming as loud as his gunshots as he makes his way towards you. The rest of the clients, especially the one located by your desk, shriek, cowering as he moves. “Tell me, whore, who does a guy gotta fucking talk to to get the money into my account?”

Your throat seamlessly tightened up in your deep fear as he directly addressed you, and you made a choking noise in your horror.

But, it seemed that Ground Zero was not in the mood for your timidness. Because you could see the vein in his temple throb, the sound of him sucking in his teeth, and the cold, humorous chuckle that rumbled in his chest as he grabbed his gun back out of its holster and pressed it centimeters away from between your eyes.

Typically, the clients couldn’t reach you from where they stood, but it was clearly apparent as he neared you that Ground Zero was not typical. He was big, huge, tall, and he quickly reached you. 

The heat of the previously fired bullets from the muzzle of the gun radiating off it clearly, licking the skin on your forehead as finally, words tumbled out.

“I just started today, Togeike-san is my supervisor!”

Ground Zero lazily smirked as he followed your thrust out finger at your coworker and supervisor.

A loud choking sound spluttered from Togeike as Ground Zero turned his attention onto her and stalked over in three steps easily. His eyes were sharp, deadly, and cold as he stared at your supervisor, and he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out a black USB.

“Put all the bank's assets onto the account on this drive.”

“W-What if I don’t?” Togeike stammered, her body quivering just the same as yours. But the false sense of confidence only resulted in the gun being placed back between her eyes, only this time, he pressed the hot muzzle against her skin, and she shrieked at her burning skin.

“Try that again, you fucking extra,” Ground Zero hissed, and Togeike sobbed, grabbing the USB with a nod.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

The sound of Togeike sobbing is almost as bad as the intruding smells of iron rusting blood from the dead bodies and the sick smell of the burning flesh on her forehead. 

It seems to take forever, you standing there silently, perfectly still as Togeike hooks the hard drive to her computer. You can see that she begins the monetary transfer from the bank's large accounts and reserves onto the account enabled on the hard drive, and you feel numb. Should you be relieved that he would most likely take this once it was done and leave? Scared that he was here on your first day at that? What shit luck…

You concentrated on your hands as time seemed to drag by slowly, your knees still feeling weak, your breathing shallow as the crude smell of drying blood makes your head spin. 

But unlike you, you hadn’t raised a single gaze in Ground Zero’s way, a rising sound of voices began to resonate from the floor and opposite side of the room. You blinked rapidly as you looked up.

Four men stood up, their brows furrowed, suits abandoned, and expressions steady and fierce. 

“The fuck you think you’re doing standing up, fucking wimps?” Ground Zero gruffed, his body language telling a whole other story from his voice. He was relaxed, unaffected by their challenging forms and fierce glares. “What? Don’t tell me? You think you four in front of me can take me? Don’t fucking flatter yourself. Even with the three behind me who’s easily apart of your fucking idiotic plan, I’ll kill ya all before you can pray to not to be sent to hell!”

“Flatter ourselves?” a man scoffed after getting over the initial shock of their once thought to be secretive plan being exposed without so much as a spec of interest from Ground Zero. “Don’t you get so fucking cocky! We’ll beat your ass and hand you over to the fucking police, you damn bastard!”

Screams erupt throughout the entire room as the seven in cahoots men lunge forward at the dangerous criminal who has set himself back center stage of the second floor.

It’s over before you can blink.

You scream with the masses as five excruciatingly loud bangs go off, and you can barely return your gaze on the fighting men to see the outcome you already know. 

There are six bodies on the floor, bleeding out fleetingly as Ground Zero holds the seventh by the neck. Your jaw drops as more blood splatters against Ground Zero’s chest, and you’re none the wiser of the knife buried deep within his throat until the body is falling over, dead, lifeless. 

“All the fucking money in the world and none of you were taught fucking manners of a properly functioning brain, hah?” he roared, his lips pulled into a threatening, angry snarl as sobs erupt through the crowds again, and a rolling tingle shoots through your body. “I guess killing everyone just isn’t fucking enough for you all, is it?”

You were unsure of how to even answer that. Your eyes falling over onto Togeike, who was silently crying, her eyes screwed tightly as the meter on the money transfer hits 47%.

“Let me set an example for anyone else who wants to try more bullshit in front of me,” Ground Zero snaps, and you shriek when his bloodied hand tangles into your pink hair and yanks you over the desk.

Crashing onto the floor as ungracefully as one could, your eyes widen and jaw drop in an excruciating, soundless scream as pain shoots through your body. But, it’s not near over yet. 

Your hands weakly grab Ground Zero’s wrist, trying to ease the pulsing pain in your body and scalp as he drags you front and center of the second floor. You can’t even understand yourself at this point, sniffling, pathetic pleas to let you go, tears streaming down your face as he throws you, your body hitting the marble floor as you sob for forgiveness.

“Now,” Ground Zero speaks from above you, and your arms have never felt weaker as you press up from the cold, ice floor. You freeze, your body feeling like a tundra as a now all too familiar click of a loaded gun resonates centimeters from your head. You silently sob when a warm muzzle pressed against the back of your head. “The next person to look away from what I’m about to do to my new cum whore, the next person who even fucking thinks of trying some really unfunny shit… her life is on your head.”

The sobs stop with that threat, or did they grow more at the easily implied actions of the corrupt man before you? You couldn’t really tell anymore. Yet slowly, the clients who are sitting in dead men’s blood shakily turn their gaze to you, and you can feel the weight of all their eyes on you. You feel weightless, almost empty.

“Pink hair is for whores, didn’t you know that? That’s why I picked you.” Ground Zero informs you from behind you. The barrel of the gun digs harder, pushing roughly against your head. “Whores are meant to be fucked by fat fucking cocks, so turn around, whore, and suck me off.”

Your breathing returns in spastic, shallow breathes, and you suppress the rising sob in your throat as you turn around on your hands and knees.

Ground Zero stares down at you with expectant eyes, cruel and dark with their crooked want and lust. Your breathing picks up when he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and underwear with only one hand, the other one with the gun never once leaving your head.

“Make sure you all watch her, I’ve never had to kill a bitch while sucking me off, and I wouldn’t want to make this the first time!” Ground Zero laughed, his crimson red eyes glaring at the shamefully gazed clients as he holds his growing cock in his hands. Despite all logic, you stare at his hardening cock with an ever-increasing lust, the tears in your eyes never stopping, but your cunt unwilling to ignore the fact that his cock would feel so good in anyone of your holes. You knew that, and it horrified you. “The fuck you waiting for?” Ground Zero growled, shifting the barrel of the gun to your temple, his eyebrow raised in a taunt. “Suck my fucking cock.”

And despite the growing hiccuping cries in your chest, you can’t stop the way your mouth waters as you shamefully grab onto his cock and press your mouth down on him. 

His cock was large, undoubtedly longer than your face, and thicker than what your hand could encompass. Messy dark blond pubes sat motions away from your nose, and veins that ran all over his length rubbed against your tongue. The taste of his slightly sweaty cock made you gag, but the fear of what he would do caused you to snuff it out.

Tears poured limitlessly down your face, your throat and jaw stretching as far as it could as you took him in further and further.

Even with the tears on your cheeks, you did your best to appease him, horrified by the outcome should you not. Your tongue swirled against his girth, trailing the plenty of veins that you could get to. His cock pressed further into your mouth, shoving until it hit the back of your throat, continuing to dive in deeper until the ends of his pubes tickled your nose, and you could feel the head of his cock stretching out your throat. And horrifically, even with the strangled, choked sobs that still continued to pour from your mouth, you were enjoying the way he was fucking your mouth.

You enjoyed the way the cooling barrel on your temple made you quiver with dreadful apprehension. You enjoyed the way his hips rocked into your mouth, most often hitting your gaping jaw. You enjoyed the way the noises of your unwilling audience made you feel dirty, whorish, and shameful. But as his fingers managed to slip into your hollowing cheeks, drool and saliva dripping down your chin in your slobbering heat and shame, you could feel your essence slicking onto your panties.

“Look at how shameless you are!” Ground Zero laughed, his hand that once guided his cock into your mouth, gripping onto your hair and fisting into it. You yelped at the pain, your teeth painfully close to biting his cock. “All these people around watching you suck off the big, bad Ground Zero’s cock, and you aren’t even embarrassed!?”

You made a disagreeing noise, your brows furrowing, your gaze doing everything in its power to avoid your clients and coworkers gaze as Ground Zero began to rock his hips even more powerfully into your mouth. He chuckled, clearly pleased with what was occurring, and he threw the gun back into its holster. With the free hand, he placed it around your throat, squeezing your airway as you choked pathetically against his length and girth.

“I bet you came into work wanting to be fucked today. Wanting to get pressed to the floor and let everyone see your slutty fucking cunt and throat be used.” Ground Zero growled his grip on your throat, tightening even more. “Is that why you came here to work? Hoped I’d show up one day and fuck you to submission in front of everyone?!”

You gagged, the pounding of his cock further and further down your choked throat overwhelming you as the tears of shame quickly became those of fear as the lack of oxygen burned your throat and nose. You tried to breathe, but Ground Zero knew what he was doing and how he was doing it, not allowing you to breathe despite the way your fingers created crescent scars on the back of his thighs. 

Too much, too much, too much!

His balls slapped under your chin, and the musk of his skin tainted your tongue, but Ground Zero was only getting started, it seemed. With his hands now grabbing the sides of your head, he began to fuck your throat savagely. 

The wet sloppy noises of his driving cock into your throat seemed to echo off the shiny walls and marble floors. Your saliva and drool ruining your silk top and mixing with the blood on the floor. 

Your eyes were crossing with the extreme force, your body feeling weightless with your inability to breathe, yet despite all logic, you finally let out a sweet, grateful moan as your nose pressed to his hips.

But that was enough for Ground Zero.

It was a noise that would finish the last nail in your coffin as he held you there to his hips, his cock entire within your throat that tightened and fluttered against his length as you struggled to pull away.

“No use in fighting it now, you fucking whore,” Ground Zero grinned, the expression on his face akin to that of a predator stalking his prey. His voice, ever so naturally loud, filled the room, letting everyone know just what was going on. “They all heard you moan like a slut while getting fucking raped by me. So do me a little favor and get on all fours, I need a place to dump my fucking cum.”

With that, Ground Zero shoved you off his cock and onto your back, and you began to cough and choke desperately. The sour, raunchy scent of the sweat, blood, and gunpowder burning your nostrils as you attempted to steady yourself. You began to cry again at the filthy thought of how you were enjoying the way his cock had been in you, and the way your body craved for more of it.

You didn’t want to admit that you wanted him to fuck you, especially in front of everyone.

But as you were consumed with your at war thoughts, Ground Zero was already impatient. 

His feet trapped you between him, and he leaned down to grab your silk shirt.

“W-Wait—!” you shriek as he rips open the shirt, the sound of scattering buttons flying everywhere as your bra is revealed to everyone in the room who is watching.

Silent tears poured down your cheeks as with the destruction of the white silk shirt, a sheer and lacy red bra was exposed to the mass. Today had been a means of celebration, and you had intended on fucking your boyfriend the moment you got home… but that had been something you had kept a secret. Something to be held from the world until it was you and him in a bed. But it was now an object to be seen by everyone, and you bit onto your lower, trembling lip, eyes screwed shut as you tried to look away from the heated territorial look on Ground Zero’s face.

“Oh, look at what we have here?” Ground Zero almost whispered, but his voice still managed to reach every corner of the floor. “You are a little fucking whore, are you not? Came to work actually wearing lingerie! I thought I was just fucking teasing you before, but no! No! Not at all! You do want to be fucked in front of everyone!”

Your sniffling wouldn’t stop as his large, hot, bloodied dried hands grabbed at your bra-clad breasts. He was leaning down over you, you could feel the amused breathing flushing against your collarbone, and you mangled a choke when he kneeled down, trapping you.

“Such an ugly pair of tits,” Ground Zero mocked, his large hands pressing the sides of your breasts together, enhancing your cleavage and fullness of your breasts as you lay on the floor. “I’ll let you in on a secret… all those missing sluts I’ve fucked in previous jobs? Well, I can always tell how good a fuck they’d be just through this part.”

Hissing, you glared at Ground Zero as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, teasing and pulling at your pebbled nipples. His red glare meeting yours, mocking and somehow both hot and cold.

But a shameful, pitch moaned fell from you, your back against all logic arching up into Ground Zero. Soft whines, shaking arms, thrashing legs.

“Would you look at that,” Ground Zero’s sneering tone was back, and you found yourself opening your eyes (somehow missing when you closed them), to see Ground Zero glaring at someone in the crowd. “Looks like you could make a professional slut, whore! That man over there has a fucking boner over watching me rape you and your slutty mouth and feeling up your tits!”

“N-No I don’t!” the man exclaimed as you couldn’t help but meet the accused eyes that were filled with shame, a red blush tainting his cheeks. “Just thinking about when this’ll be fucking over!”

“Oh?”

Ground Zero’s grip grabbed you by the throat, and you panicked as he ripped you up onto your feet and began walking over to where the man was. You stumbled to keep up, unable to find your balance the entire time you walked with him, in awe that this unlawful man could walk determinedly when his pants around his thighs, hard, leaking cock pressing to his vest-clad stomach. But before you could find your balance, Ground Zero threw you back onto the floor, landing centimeters from the client's feet, and you began to cry as your exposed stomach touched the floor.

Ground Zero wasted no time on your noises, straddling your ass, scooping his hands beneath your breasts, and pulling you up. 

The client's face went beet red, his bulge in his pants evident as you could only keep your gaze there, unable to raise or turn your head as Ground Zero squeezed your breasts in his hands. 

You moaned at the sensation, your mind giving in to the feelings to not cry anymore.

“Tell the whore how much you like her tits,” Ground Zero commanded, his hands kneading and pulling at your mounds of flesh. “Tell her your little microcock wants to fuck her.”

The client had the decency to look offended as he spluttered, “I’M NOT GOING TO TELL HER THAT!”

With his words, silence took over the room, and you trembled in your fear.

“Damn extra?” Ground Zero shouts to Togeike.

“Y-Yes?”

“How much fucking longer?”

“I-It’s at 63%!”

“Wonderful.”

One of Ground Zero’s hands abandoned his manipulation of your breasts, but he still managed to keep you in place with only one hand. He pulled a breast out of the bra, and you whimpered as the client gwuaffed at the sight of your breast, but immediately cut himself off when a cold, heavy metal barrel pressed against your temple.

“Let’s try again,” Ground Zero said with faux cheer. “Tell the whore how much you like her tits, and how your microcock wants to fuck her, or else I’ll kill her right in front of you.” There’s a heavily, curling silence that overwhelms the room before he decides to add one last thing for good measure. “I’ve never fucked a dead body before, and I wouldn’t want to start that now.”

“I-I like her tits,” the man stammered.

“How much?”

“T-They’re… they’re so hot,” the man begins to cry, his body shaking in front of you. “I wish I could b-be fucking her instead!”

“Too bad for that microcock you have, huh?” Ground Zero taunted, pulling the gun from your temple and pointing it straight at the man's crotch. “Show her.”

“W-What?!”

“Show her your cock.”

It seemed to happen so slowly. The man unbuckling his belt with shaky hands, clumsily undoing his pants, and shifting it down his legs, white boxer briefs stained slightly with pre-cum. You looked away when he revealed a cock that looked pathetic to the one you had just sucked, so small, so thin, so discolored. 

“You got one fucking ugly ass cock,” Ground Zero laughed.

Then the world picked back up.

The first thing you heard and felt was the tearing of your skirt, and you panicked as Ground Zero dropped your chest onto the cold floor. You whipped your head around to see your work skirt split all the way down the middle, only held together by a few remaining strands by the waistline. And the sheer pantyhose you wore, twisted between his fingers, and completely ripped as his gaze met yours.

“Cute fucking thong.”

You choked at the feeling of cold, soured air hitting your inner thighs that were still wet with your slick, and instinctively, you tried to scramble onto your knees. But it seemed that this was what Ground Zero wanted from you, for the moment you were on your knees, he pressed his hand to the curve of your back and kept you there.

Ass up, back curved, chest down.

“Until the transfer is at 100%, your wet little cunt is mine!” Ground Zero reveled in the information as he couldn’t even bother to pull down your panties before plunging his fingers into your sopping heat.

The shameful pleasure of feeling his fingers deep within your cunt sent you screaming, your back arching even further as his fingers continued to thrust in you. They curled and spread, sending your mind into a spiraling lust as he managed to find all of your sweet spots without so much as breaking a sweat.

“You’re so easy,” Ground Zero groaned, his cock rutting between the curves of your ass as he continued to finger fuck you. “So fucking wet too. I just knew a fucking whore like you couldn’t be getting fucked right at home, that’s why you hoped you’d get fucked by me today!”

Your teeth bit into your forearm, the overwhelming pleasure of his fingers stroking your inner walls, tweaking and moving against your clit, making your thighs tremble with the already forming pressure in your womb. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, you little whore,” Ground Zero whispered into your ear, laughing when you shuddered at the feeling of his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “Everyone wants to hear you moan, scream, and cry for the big bad Ground Zero’s cock. Don’t mute yourself, let them hear just how well I’ll fuck you into a puddle of tears and cum.”

You didn’t want them to hear you begging for more. You didn’t want the entire room to know that your cunt was spasming and clenching around his fingers because you liked this. You didn’t want them to know.

“I bet fuckface in front of you really wants to hear it!” Ground Zero laughed, his finger doing light, quick circles against your clit as his other hand brought your attention to the man before you. Sure enough, his cock was throbbing, precum leaking down his length as he shamefully looked at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind you fucking yourself as I fuck this stupid cunt.”

But with the building pressure in your stomach. Your toes curling as the soft thumps of his fingers dive in and out of your sopping wet cunt, your body begins to tense up.

“Already ready to cum,” Ground Zero smirked, and you felt your body go rigid when his fingers left your cunt, and was immediately replaced with his large, thick cock.

Having not expected such action, your arms shot out, eyes rolling back as a guilty, wanton scream tore through your throat. He was so big, so thick, so full, stretching you out completely, sending your tight walls into a frenzy as they stretched and tightened around his cock.

Fuck, fuck, “fuck!”

“Oh, she speaks!” Ground Zero laughs, almost a bit deranged as he grabs onto your waist and begins to plow into you. “I wonder to what lengths I can get you to speak! I want to hear you screaming for me, whore.”

It was then that he slammed his hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. It was heavy-handed, the power he held in his hand while never doubted, didn’t make you think it was ever this much. The pleasure curled pain made your knees buckle, a hot pressure bursting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on the same throbbing cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you keened loudly when Ground Zero yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your swelling skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Your cunt is so fucking tight, is whoever this getup for fuck you shitty too? Don’t tell me this fucking extra is the man you fuck in your bed?” he laughs, his foot stamping to the outside of your leg. The new position increases the range and the power of his thrusts, sending your body forward with every squelch bringing thrust. “I bet you’d like it if your stupid cock piece was here to watch how a real fucking man fucks, huh? You fucking would—” his hand comes down to wrap around your waist, pinching and tugging at your clit that’s thrumming with impending orgasm. Ignoring your growing pleads for more— “You like being an example to everyone in this fucking shit room of how to be fucked correctly! I bet you’re actually liking the way they’re judging you and your tight, wet cunt.”

The next powerful thrust that has his balls smacking your skin nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Ground Zero abused your clit and cunt.

“Answer me, fucking whore.”

There was no stopping Ground Zero’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It was true; it delighted you.

“Y-Yes, I like being fucked by you!” you finally break crying, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more. “I like them watching as you fuck me! You fuck me so good!”

“Glad you could finally admit it because your cunt is so fucking wet right now I’m sure everyone else already knew,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you. I can see you choking back your cries of pleasure, the fuck you take me for? Do you want me to leave you without an orgasm?”

“N-No!” you sob pathetically, arms pathetically stretching behind you to keep him thrusting faster into you. “D-Don’t leave me until I-I cum!”

Your words were loud, letting everyone know just how much you wanted this, just enough for the man before you to groan as he came, and you thanked Ground Zero as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a smirk as he let go of your hair, letting your head drop back onto the floor, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that. I want the entire fucking world to know who’s fucking you right now.”

The words were honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Please, Ground Zero, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” you babble, your tongue falling from your mouths as you pant like a bitch in heat, your body convulsing and shaking with need and heightening lust.

Your mind reeled as Ground Zero continued his conquest against your cunt. You could barely count the number of times he drilled his cock straight into your heat, the tip of his cock pressing into your cervix over and over. The added sensation of his fingers manipulating your clit, and shoving into your mouth to tug on your tongue as you began to grow too loud made you dizzy. Your ass and thighs were undoubtedly bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto the marble floor.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he cheers as he repositions the angle in which he’s driving into you, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued fucking you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips finally began to buck against his commanding hips, trying to get the echoing slaps to grew even louder. “Such a greedy little slut.”

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more heat, power, and pain.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Ground Zero chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Ground Zero slams into you with the power and force you had yet to experience. Causing you to howl in your throbbing lust, your mind more a second snapping back out of its haze as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you try to look at Ground Zero, finally trying to take a glance at how he looked. You wondered if he was as unhinged as you felt, as savage as you imagined with his lustful red eyes. 

“Where is it at?” Ground Zero barked over at Togeike.

“I-It’s at 97%!” she stammered, shame dripping from her voice, and you had half a mind to wonder if they were all turned on too.

Maybe they were jealous of the fat cock claiming you, and you mewl in the thought, your back bristling as you slammed back onto his drilling cock. You wanted more from him, craved more from him. The coil in your belly still yet to be undone, but you were not going to let it snap anytime soon.

“Gotta fucking make this little slut cum soon then, huh?” Ground Zero grinned, and you felt his teeth bare into the back of your neck in a flash of throbbing, burning pain.

You cried.

The angle and power behind these growing sloppy thrusts were different than what you were used to. It was deranged almost, your body shifting with each thrust, nearly toppling over as Ground Zero claimed you with his teeth and his cock. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, ringing moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you brought your arms as best you could to his waist to keep him there.

Sweat dripped down Ground Zero’s neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“Please — fuck — do that! Do that again, please!” you screamed when a vein in his cock dragged against your pulsating, puffy walls, at the same time he pushed against your cervix.

“Such—” thrust— “A—” thrust— “Fucking—” thrust— “Whore!” thrust! “Who do you fucking belong to?!”

“Y-You, Ground Zero!” you scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “I belong to you! I’m your fucking whore, please fill me with your cum! Cum in me, please cum in me!”

Ground Zero preens at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in his zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure now spilling over.

His cock twitched within you. It knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length, and you orgasm roughly, your body shaking and spasming uncontrollably as you scream his name. Ground Zero curses loudly, slamming into you one last time with the power and tenacity of an army as he lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came in you.

“Such a good slut,” Ground Zero grins as you can feel your eyes fluttering shut, physical and mental exhaustion now catching up with you. “Sleep now, I’m not done with you.”

You couldn’t gather the energy to speak back, your world blacking out with the sounds of sobs, screams, and more gunshots.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You wake up in a car.

The warm, gentle wind caressing your face as the world is quiet. It's calm, pleasant, pleasing. Your pink wig is on your knees, slightly ruined with blood, sweat, tears, and drool.

You sigh, your body throbbing with different pain as you look to your right at who’s driving.

It’s Ground Zero, or as you know him: Bakugou Katsuki.

His arms are covered now, the old black op outfit changed for a pair of black slacks and a red button-down shirt. You would have no idea he was the man who stormed into Yaoyorozu Bankings earlier that day.

“Good morning,” you sigh, reaching against the seat to press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Bakugou looks at you with a smirk, reaching towards you for a real kiss as he continues to drive. You can tell you’re in comfortable clothes, ointment on any potentially worrisome wounds he had inflicted on you while wrapped up in your twisted fantasy of yours. 

“Nice to see you up,” he gruffs, his voice rough from his overuse in the bank.

“Did we get it?” you ask, head pressing to his shoulder, and with a chuckle, he raised the black USB.

“Damn fucking right we did, y/n.”

“Perfect.”

It goes without saying that despite the sheer brilliance of Bakugou’s work as Ground Zero, he would have never pulled off such crimes without you. His pretty, small girlfriend, who always played a victim of his lust at his operations just for good measure. It was a fun life both of you lived.

You looked at the expensive Cartier watch on your wrist, a beautiful gift he had gotten you after your first successive robbery. It had also been programmed for you to communicate with Bakugou on how many guards there were on the floor.

“I love you.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

arrière-pensée: a concealed thought or intention; an ulterior motive.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

tags in comments, theres too many of you.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

-

-

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.