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lale-txt · 1 year

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what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Kid, Killer, Law, Mihawk, Shanks, Benn

a/n: look who is clearing out her drafts again while working on a longer fic! i love writing little headcanons, they help me get into a nice writing flow and are just super fun to think about. those here are both fluff and spicy, so be aware. reader is gn!

Kid

seeing you walk around in his shirt when it’s laundry day on the Victoria Punk

the warmth of his hand in yours when you paint his nails for him after he lost his arm, unfazed by his bickering when you’re doing a messy job

you keeping him company in his workshop when everyone else already went to sleep, studying blueprints while he tries to focus on the thing he’s working on but failing miserably in your presence

the way you look at him when he tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your lips

how hungry you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips after his cheeky tongue wracked your whole body with pleasure

the shiny red shapes of his hand on your ass cheek and your needy mewls for more

whispered confessions with every thrust, your hands cradling his face as he fucks you through your orgasm, melting in lust and adoration

Killer

hearing you humming in the kitchen, cooking a surprise meal for him

your fingers untangling his hair at night, gently combing out every knot without hurting him

your laughter when he tries to put on the polka dot shirt that got way too small

the way your gaze softens when he takes off his mask for the first time in front of you

your lips parting so willingly for him when he leans down to kiss you in a moment of bravery

his lipstick smeared on the inside of your thighs, leading dangerously close to your aching core

the way you twitch around him as you ride him, eyes closed as you chase your high, his fingers digging in the flesh of your thighs

Law

your hands brushing when you hand him a cup of coffee in the morning, knowing he was up all night again

you falling asleep on the couch when you both study in the library together, admiring how you let down your guard around him

hearing you mumble out his name in your sleep

patching you up after a battle where you fought back to back, just blind trust into each other

thinking back about the heated kiss you two shared when you thought it all was over and you wouldn’t see tomorrow

you straddling him in his chair, asking for permission to do it again in the safety of his arms and realizing those are the lips he wants to kiss for the rest of his life

seeing those lips wrap around his length for the first time, holding hands while you make him see stars and a future so bright in the absence of fear

Mihawk

the faint smell of your perfume when he enters a room you’ve been in before

watching your hands rolling out dough in the kitchen, covered in flour, a vinyl playing in the background, veggies from the garden on the counter

how you handle the knife, not for fighting but for creating something beautiful and heartwarming from scratch with patience and compassion, something he admires deeply

the way your eyes linger on him in a room full of people, making him feel like it’s just the two of you

stolen kisses after glancing at his lips for too long, tasting his wine on them

your delicate wrists in his grip when he pins you down on them above your head, legs spread wide open for him

the way you sigh his name when he enters you in one go, a big smile on your face, your eyes so full of love and lust

Shanks

standing outside the bar and hearing your voice from from the inside as you chat and laugh with his crewmates, Benn nudging him a little with a look

how you yawn and mumble out a ‘good morning’ on your way to the bathroom, in your underwear and sleepdrunk, because you spent all night visiting him in his dreams

the way you tilt your head and smirk when he takes the bottle of wine from your pretty hands and takes a sip, lips touching where yours have been seconds before

you shutting him up with a kiss when he teases you for too long, your hand in a tight grip around his collar

the same hand pulling his hair when he pushes you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing his clothed cock against your core

feeling how soaked your panties are when he reaches to pull them aside, your needy mewls soon to be muffled with them

Benn

the way you cup his hand to help him light his cigarette, your faces awfully close

how you muster him up and down and your cocky smile when he asks if you like what you see

standing side by side outside and watching the rain fall while the rest of the crew is having a banquet inside, just a quiet moment between you two

you reaching for his half-smoked cigarette, pleading eyes asking for a kiss

the same eyes looking at him through long lashes when he unbuckles his belt

your shaking legs on his shoulders as he makes you count out loud the times he makes you cum with his fingers alone

your broken voice begging him to fill you up, legs wrapped around his waist to keep him from pulling out, nails leaving red trails on his back

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #shanks x reader #trafalgar law x reader #mihawk x reader #benn beckman x reader #eustass kid #op killer #trafalgar law #red haired shanks #dracule mihawk #benn beckman #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #one piece headcanons

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

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Can we get a yuta x fem!reader where he saves reader in Shibuya just in time after not seeing her this whole year?

sounds like a plan to me, let's do it hehe

Yuta saving your ass in Shibuya

Pairing: Yuta x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,7k

Synopsis: You have enough. After fighting for multiple hours in Shibuya, you are the brink of giving up your life, of giving up the pondering about a future with Yuta. Little do you know he's already on his way to Shibuya...

Warnings: language, TW! reader accepts the threat of death (and kinda wants to die), angst but comfort, not fully proofread

„Fuck!“, you cry on top of your lungs, bruised fingertips digging themselves into the debris underneath.

You are so damn tired. Tired of the horrible things you had to endure on this cursed evening, tired of all the senseless fighting, tired of death crawling up your spine. Maybe you just have to realize that your time has come, that you’ll be next. After all those people losing their lives today, it’s finally your turn.

“I’ve done enough”, you mutter to yourself.

The countless creatures in front of you cry out while storming towards you again. The people behind you scream in horror, so scared of dying that it wrenches your heart.

Why? Why do you have to be so damn emotional about this, so wrecked by their helplessness? You shouldn’t bother about their fate at all, should just sit here and await your very own relief in silence.

But instead, you lift yourself back up and draw your sword. Again and again, you slash into their bodies, paint the town around you in purple. Every fiber of your being begs you to stop, to just run away and never return, to sit down and let them slice your head off to end this madness once and for all.

It was definitely easier when he was still around. Yuta Okkotsu, special grade, probably the strongest after Satoru.

And the boy you hopelessly fell in love with until he decided to leave you behind. It’s been a year since you’ve last seen him, a year since you really talked to each other. Damn, how much you wished to see him one more time before you die, to at least tell him about your unwavering feelings. Why the hell are you so attached to him after all this time anyway?

But Yuta Okkotsu isn’t enough. The unsaid words between you two aren’t enough motivation to keep going after you’ve seen Nanami die, after both of Toge’s arms got sliced off, after Sukuna almost killed you.

No. You are so damn tired of it all. Fuck your pathetic life, fuck those people you don’t even know.

“I…I can’t…do…it…anymore”, you huff out.

Like in slow motion, your bloody blades glides out of your weak grip, falling onto the ground with a loud clinking.

This is it. Your final moment on this earth. Maybe that huge curse will bite your head off and let it all end quickly. Hopefully you wake up somewhere nice, maybe at a beach or something. And maybe, just maybe, your brain is able to trick you one last time into thinking that he’s here, that he thought about you as well, that Yuta Okkotsu didn’t forget about your existence.

Just a single moment and it will be over. Just one last breath in this cursed place.

You allow yourself to close your eyes, the desperate cries for help fading into the background. The pain that holds your body, all the horrible things you’ve seen…You smile to yourself gently while sitting down. It’s finally over. Now you’re finally able to rest.

And so you wait in silence for their sharp teeth, for them to finally slice your head off. But something seems off…You furrow your eyebrows. What has gotten into this thing? Is it full already? No, these monsters never get enough. It has to me something else.

“Hey, are you alright?”

You hold your breath, eyes snapping open in an instant. That familiar voice, that white uniform…You glare straight into the stranger’s face.

But no, that isn’t a stranger.

This is Yuta Okkotsu.

“(y/n), is that really you? What were you doing here? That curse could have killed you!”

His words don’t fully reach your ears, cries of the curse who gets eaten alive by Rika ringing in your ears. This can’t be true. He…He wasn’t even on the continent. How did he get here? And why on earth is he standing right in front of you?

Suddenly thick anger rises up your chest. Anger because he your left without really telling you. Anger because he didn’t write or reply to your messages frequently, anger because Yuta never seemed to fully care about you after the year you’ve spent together, after the secret kiss you’ve shared. And now he’s standing in front of you with that single droplet of sweat running down his face, asking what you are doing here.

“You have some fucking nerve”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You lift your trembling figure off the ground, pushing him backwards with all the strength you have left only to stumble over your worn-out legs.

“You disappear for a whole damn year, never really care about me and then you ask my what I’m doing here!? Do you want to know what I did? I tried to save these people, tried to justify the countless dead jujutsu sorcerers, tried to free Gojo-sensei! What were you doing all this time, why didn’t you even ca-“

With a swift motion, he gets down and wraps his arms around you, cages you against his body. No, you don’t want to be near him, you need to get away, you…

Can’t help but cry.

“Why did you leave me here without saying anything?”, you mutter desperately, fists banging weakly against his chest.

Fuck, why does it have to feel so comforting, why do you have to realize just how much you missed him and the way he holds you? Why does it have to be so damn hard to stay mad at him when all you need right now is a big comforting hug?

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all those things. When I heard what happens here in Shibuya, when no one could tell me that you’re safe…On my flight back here I regretted over and over that I didn’t have the guts to tell you how I feel”, he whispers against your bloody ear.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me I wasn’t too late”, he begs.

Gently, he lifts up your face, forces you to get lost in his blue eyes. Oh, how badly you want to push him away, tell him to leave this place and let you die. But instead, you just stare at him, watch how he scans your body, your countless injuries.

“How long have you been fighting here alone?”, he mutters.

“4 hours. Maybe a little longer. I lost count some time ago”, you mumble, tired eyes still set on him.

He looks so different from when you last saw him. How is it even possible to turn from a boy to a man in the matter of one year? His chest seems wider, jawline even sharper, eyes clearer than ever before. But what changed the most is the way he carries himself. The man in front of you isn’t insecure and fearful. No, he seems absolutely aware of his immense powers, killing of that grade 1 curse with ease.

“You look shocked.”

“I definitely am. After all, a ghost is talking to me”, you reply dryly.

What hasn’t change is the fact that his eyes seem to be the mirror of his feelings, instantly filling with sorrow by the sound of your harsh tone.

“I didn’t want to leave you behind. But…I had no other choice, (y/n)! I owed it to myself and Riko-“

“Oh, so now it’s Rika and you, huh?”, you bark.

Enough. You stand up faster than expected, shooting back up only to lose balance and falling back into Yuta’s open arms.

“Hey, slow down. You have to be exhausted.”

“Yes. Yes I am fucking exhausted. Exhausted from that senseless fighting, exhausted from hearing your excuses! What was the real reason you just left me in the dark? Was it because of Rika, because you don’t care about me like that? You should have thought about that before you kissed me the night before you went to different continent-“

“Trust me, I thought about you all the time, I loved you all the time, (y/n)! It was just as hard for me as it was to you. The last thing I wanted was to leave after that night, but I had no other choice. It was my only chance to train properly, to get the best of me. If I could, I would have taken you with me straight away. But I couldn’t. And I’ll probably never forgive myself for leaving you alone in this mess, for almost losing you!”

He grabs your face passionately, makes you forget how to breathe. Is this really Yuta Okkotsu talking to you? Is this really Yuta Okkotsu leaning closer, his lips only inches away from yours.

“I loved you through everything, (y/n). And I hope you did as well.”

“Are you serious?”, you breathe out, staring at him in sheer disbelief.

“You were the only thing on my mind all this time. You and…that I never told you that I love you”, you blurt out.

You aren’t even able to turn away from him. In the matter of seconds, his lips are pressed against yours. Just like the last time you’ve seen each other, just like he did at his dorm a year ago. Sparks fly, your heart shivers in sheer excitement. Oh, you’ll definitely not forget that he just left you, that he didn’t message you on a regular basis.

But at the moment, you just close your eyes and let the sensation of his hands caressing your face while his lips brush over yours so tenderly sink in. Just a few minutes ago, you were kneeling on the ground, ready to let yourself get killed here in Shibuya. And now he’s here. The countless nights you pondered when he’ll come back, how he’ll act, how he’ll look.

When reality is so much better.

“I promise that I’ll never leave you again. I’ll make it up to you”, he mumbles against your parted lips.

“I sure hope so.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi@weebotaku21@chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez@belovedvamp@wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

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fandomfucker · 30 days

Note

💳 💥💳💥💳💥💳 Rhea Ripley social media posts / talking bout her girlie in interviews part 2 pleaseeeeeeeee 🥵🙏

I mean, if yall are insisting…🤷‍♀️

For the purposes of this, you're not a wrestler

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/fandomfucker/745782885181734913/do-you-think-you-could-do-one-for-rhea-were-its?source=share

Also, currently getting my first tattoo as I write this so please ignore any possible grammatical errors

With the ass video going around, you’d repost it with a “😋🍽️” caption and she would immediately repost it with a “🙇🏻‍♀️🍑🍽️” or sum shit to rile up the fans

You don't have a hug social media following yourself, but they do often ask for more content. Specifically outfit of the day(s)

You make Rhea do them with you because she makes you feel more confident and in every video you can see her just staring at you in the mirror the whole time

I've already said Rhea will bully people off the internet for being me to you. But you? Oh my god you’re worse than Rhea is

If one of her co-workers says something even slightly unkind about her in an interview (Becky👀) you will go with Rhea to her next show and find them backstage

You don't even wrestle or fight but Rhea has had to pull you away from multiple people now because you will fight anybody and everybody for her

One of said fights happened to go viral online, no punches were actually thrown as Rhea had dragged you back first though

People online either loved the love between you two as a couple, or wished they had a partner absolutely willing to throw hands will someone over them

Rhea would do your makeup for videos and she'd always do her makeup on you to see what it would look like

She also does voiceovers on your own makeup videos, or a day in the life, or something

The fans always eat it up too cause Rhea's commentary is hilarious

Whenever you're backstage and Rheas going to take photos, she’ll ask you to do the shoot with her so that her fans, and yours, can get sexy pictures of you both to thirst over

Totally not because she loves seeing you both look like that and wants a picture for her lock screen

Rhea started a war of bad facetime screenshots between the two of you on Instagram and you're determined to win

To the point that you have called people to interfere in the background while Rheas at work to get a bad reaction photo out of her

She's too proud to admit it, but it's worked several times

Your tiktok has pretty much become a house reno account

You build all the furniture and shit, make the cool decorations and put them up, paint, do everything yard-eorl related while Rhea picks out what's pretty and the pretty colors

She'll also help you carry heavy stuff around cause she's jacked and you like watching her work but she mainly kinda just like, flounces around

The fans are dying for the two of you to have a show on HGTV together

Which may or may not be in the works

SCARY DOG TREND

It went VIRAL

that's how most mosherz were introduced to you as Rhea’s partner

You started vlogging, though not very often, just so that you could have the permanent memories of all the different experiences between you and Rhea

You only post like once a week but people eat it UP

You have your own merch now

Most of its the two of you but there is a shirt or two thats just one of you

There are mercy plushies of both Barry and Luna that you always have to put up for pre-order cause they sell out in seconds

Clothes for said plushies are in the works

She posts little video clips of you on her story the same way she does her dogs

And it's always the embarrassing ones where you're completely cuddled into her and shit

She got Saints of the Undead (the people who make her leather jackets) to make you a personalized one as well even though you don't wrestle

It's your favorite thing in the world and you wear it more than you should

Like it matches with nothing that you're wearing it with

But, it says “Mami’s” on the back of it so you make sure to wear it especially when you go with her to Raw, Smackdown, any povs, etc so that people know you belong to her

#rhea ripley #the judgement day #wwe raw #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #the judgment day x reader

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Surprise Sunday update! I was able to put the finishing touches on Part 2 a bit early. 😉

Song used in this chapter is “If I Didn’t Care” by The Ink Spots (but more like Amy Adams' version). Song inspiration for this chapter (and the song title) is “All My Livin Time” by Radio Company (Jensen’s band with Steve Carlson).

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: 18+ only! Willful seduction, kidnapping, SB being himself lol.

Part 2: You Move Me, Baby

This next mission was going to be a bit more…hands on.

It was a gentlemen’s club, styled like a 1920s speakeasy, of all things. If nothing else, Soldier Boy was predictable.

Through a crack in the dressing room door, you didn’t see any gentlemen here. You saw a bunch of skeevy bastards.

For the record, you didn’t like this plan. But as Butcher once again pointed out, Soldier Boy’s less likely to fuckin’ recognize you than any of us.

And you certainly couldn’t (wouldn’t) imagine Butcher in rhinestone nipple tassels.

Right now, you were waiting to be assigned an outfit. Hopefully, you could just blend into the background of whatever performance act the stage manager wanted to slip you into. And you really hoped you wouldn’t have to striptease on stage.

In the meantime, you sat on a stool in a black lace bra, matching panties, and sheer pantyhose, while Annie was helping you with your stage makeup. Years as a pageant child had taught her well. You felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality, fending off getting hairspray up her ass.

Sure, you had gone undercover several times, but this was slightly out of your wheelhouse. You bit your lip, forgetting that you were already wearing several coats of scarlet red lipstick.

Annie slapped your hand. “Stop it. You’re smudging my paint job.”

You had Butcher and M.M. to thank for arranging this little detail.

May they both rot in hell, you silently simmered.

“Oh, stop pouting. You look great,” Annie said. You caught the little smirk she was trying to taper down.

Then the manager’s head popped into the dressing room. When he verified that all the young women had at least their underwear on, he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

“All right, listen up,” he said in Spanish. You understood just enough to follow what he was saying. “Angelica got food poisoning.”

You grimaced. Angelica was the main act. She had a whole burlesque-style routine with the rest of the women—for which you were meant to step in for one of the girls in the ensemble. Hopefully in the back.

“Daniela, you’re filling in,” said the manager, pointing to a busty brunette.

“What about the second act?” asked another girl. If you remembered right, her name was Raquel. “Dani can’t sing like Angelica to save her fucking life.”

“Excuse me, bitch. I sing better than you,” Daniela snapped back.

The manager rolled his eyes and clapped his hands harshly to end the bickering.

“Okay. Which one of you bitches can actually sing?” he asked, first in Spanish, then in English, you noticed as he glanced at you.

Annie looked at you with raised brows. You glared back at her.

Damn you for telling her about your childhood church choir days. You were sure your religious mother never thought you’d be using those talents like this.

“No,” you said firmly. Annie just smiled and waved the manager over.

That was how the two of them ended up all but pushing you on stage—after Annie had wrangled you into a shimmering red gown over your underwear and pantyhose. It was overlayed with delicate beading in intricate patterns. And it was easily the most beautiful thing you’d ever had on your body.

However, you did take issue with how long the slit was, running all the way up to your hip bone.

Not really ‘20s style, now is it? you thought sourly.

Annie just slapped your ass and guided you forward.

You shot back one last look at her—one that swore you’d have your revenge.

Then the curtain slid open.

Fuck me, you thought nervously. This was really happening!

The lights blinded you for a moment, and you blinked the glare out of your eyes. They soon adjusted as you forced yourself to move towards the microphone at the right-hand side of the stage, close to the live band. The pianist shot you a smile and a wink as he started to play in dulcet tones.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed the microphone with a slight tremor in your hands. You stared out into the crowd as the rest of the band joined in, slow and jazzy.

You’d informed the manager that you really only knew one song by heart.

“Eh, that is too slow,” he’d replied to you in English.

“It’s that, or Dani belts out in her best soprano,” you informed him. He sighed and waved a resigned hand.

“Get her the red one,” he told Raquel. She then handed you the dress on a hanger.

Now, you held the microphone between both hands and started the song your grandmother used to sing to you when you were a kid.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say,” you began. “If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You took in an unsteady breath. With each note, your voice was getting stronger, more confident.

“If this isn’t love, then why do I thrill? And what makes my head go round and round, while my heart…stands…still…”

As you eased into the rest of the song, you remembered your mission.

You scanned the dark room, rows of men of all ages, women serving drinks and food and their own bodies. You weren’t finding your target.

But this intel was good. The source was the girl you’d replaced in the show, and M.M. had already worked out her safe exit out of the city for a while.

There. You finally saw it.

Or rather, you saw him.

Towards the back, Soldier Boy sat at a large exclusive booth. He had a long joint propped between his fingers, and a working woman from the club already propositioning to service him. Her manicured hand eased down his chest.

He also seemed to have hired men sitting at a table nearby.

Your voice nearly hitched at the sight of him, but you forced yourself to take a calming breath during a musical interlude.

You knew Annie and the rest of the team were here in the club somewhere, to back you up. But Soldier Boy knew Butcher and his team were onto him. the bastard would recognize them. You were the distraction here.

And if he went away with that escort, he could easily disappear upstairs and hop out the window again, gone like a coil of weed smoke.

Somehow, you needed to keep his ass in his seat.

So your voice came back in strong for the final verse.

“If I didn’t care, would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end…with just your name?”

You watched Soldier Boy’s gaze drift toward the stage. Your lips curved as you held his eyes for a moment…but then, you coyly slid your gaze away.

Okay, what’s going to grab his attention…

You shifted on the stage, letting the curve of your hip and ass sway to one side. You raised your other foot on the tips of your toes. And the slit running up your leg slid open, revealing your tall silver heels and a smooth leg, all the way up to the inside of your thigh.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to fit your gun holster this time.

“And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare…” Your voice rang out on the high note; at that climactic point, the music reached a crescendo.

You turned your head and looked directly into Soldier Boy’s eyes, and his mouth slid into a grin.

He was watching you.

Good.

“Would all this be true,” you sang, “if I didn’t care for you…”

As the final notes reverberated from the piano, applause and male whoops erupted from the crowd.

You slowly released the microphone, breaking off eye contact with your target.

Then you turned around, trying to hide the nervous tremor in your legs. You pressed a discreet hand to the communicator in your ear after the curtain fell behind you, and you told the team.

“He’s here.”

Annie was no longer backstage.

“Good job, crooner,” M.M. said on the comm.

“Watch him ‘til he’s ready to leave,” Butcher said to everyone.

You agreed and dodged the manager so you could slip to the back room within the dressing room.

You were about to change into your real clothes (and grab your gun), when you were stopped by a Latino man. Though he clearly wasn’t a local or a tourist. He looked ex-military, complete with a crew cut and dark beard.

“Soldier Boy would like to meet you,” he said in lightly accented English. You affected some doe-eyed shock, even though some of your surprise was genuine.

You’d just wanted to keep him watching the show. You hadn’t expected him to take the bait this much.

“Oh, wow…where? Now?” you asked.

“Now,” he confirmed. “Upstairs.”

He couldn’t even pick me up himself? Lazy, you wanted to tsk.

You spied the stage manager over by the doorway. He gave you a stern nod that told you that you had no choice but to accept.

Not that you ever intended to decline. Though of fucking course the manager had known Soldier Boy was here. He was probably a damn regular.

You gave Soldier Boy’s man a charming smile. “Lead the way.”

This wasn’t the plan, exactly. You decided it was even better though. Just infinitely more dangerous.

Even though you had years of training, honing your body and your mind in a fight, you weren’t a supe. You were, in fact, exceedingly breakable.

“Are you crazy, cherie?” Frenchie said on the comm.

You also thought you heard M.M. mutter an, “Aw shit.”

“She don’t got a choice now,” Butcher said. “But it’s a good play to get him alone. Slip her one of them hockey pucks.”

You heard M.M., Annie, Butcher, and Frenchie’s continued twittering back and forth about the change of plan. Meanwhile, you were being escorted upstairs.

Kimiko managed to maneuver into your path from the opposite direction, and she slipped a small disk into your hand as she passed you.

You gave her a grateful wink and discreetly placed the device into your bra while your escort wasn’t looking.

It wasn’t a dose of Novichok, but it was something that might keep Soldier Boy occupied for a moment. You intended to use it if he got too fucking handsy.

You were let into a room on the third floor. With the lavish way it was furnished, complete with a king-sized bed, it almost looked like a hotel room.

Yeah, Hotel California, you thought wryly, as the door shut behind you.

Soldier Boy sat at a table by the far wall, gazing out the window with yet another joint (or perhaps the same one?) and a generous pour of whiskey in his hand.

Even you could admit, he cut an attractive figure. He was dressed in light brown slacks, a matching suit jacket and a white dress shirt with the top buttons left open. A simple ensemble, but well-tailored and suited to the golden tan he’d developed here in South America. His beard was neatly trimmed, his short hair styled back in its familiar sweep on both sides.

Even seated, his posture was casual, yet controlled as his head turned to meet your gaze. A smile started to curve his lips.

Show time, you told yourself.

“You’re new,” he said. You tilted your head, a bit of flirtation in your smile.

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

He gave you an oh please look. With the hand that held his whiskey, he gestured with a curling finger.

“Come ‘ere. Don’t be shy,” he said. It was an order rather than a request, but you hid your instinctive annoyance.

You subtly took in a steadying breath. And you moved farther into the room. You didn’t stop until you were sitting opposite him at the window, crossing your legs beneath the table.

You could tell he’d expected you to take a seat in his lap, but to a degree, you didn’t want to do what he expected. He was likely paying the club well for this time. You didn’t want to make it easy.

You wanted him to be enticed. Invested in this moment.

And distracted, for as long as he let you.

You watched him glance down with interest at your bare leg peeking out. At your strappy silver heel shining along with your dress in the soft lamplight, which casted shadows across his profile.

“Want a drink?” he asked.

You were surprised he was offering you anything. You’d half-expected him to order you onto your knees already. Upon which, he would’ve received the gift currently residing in your bra a bit early.

You didn't want to take any drink you hadn't poured yourself, but you also needed to keep this act going...

"I'm not gonna fucking drug you," he said, reading the look in your eyes. "What would be the fucking point of that?"

Hmph. smart-ass motherfucker, you thought. But you didn't detect a lie.

You quirked your head and took the proffered sip from his glass. You wanted to play it cool, but maybe you also needed a little liquid courage.

“All right, easy on the booze. Get his guard down,” Butcher said in your ear. You resisted the urge to frown.

Could Butcher see you somehow too? Or was he just hearing the ice clinking in the glass as you gulped it down.

“Did you enjoy my performance?” you asked Soldier Boy.

“Still am, doll face,” he said with a smirk. You raised a brow.

“I’m not that new,” you replied, biting indelicately on a dark cherry. Your heeled foot slowly slid against the inside of his thigh.

It was his turn to raise brow. His head tilted with his smirk.

You didn’t know if he was more amused than turned on, but his gaze roamed openly over your legs, the cleavage on display, your dark red lips.

“Are you enjoying your stay in Medellin?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, yeah. I’m having a fuckin’ ball,” he said wryly. He dabbed some ash off his blunt with a finger.

There was something off there, and you didn’t miss it.

“You sound bored,” you said. Soldier Boy considered you with a lustful, challenging gaze.

“Maybe. You gonna help me with that, sweetheart?”

A flutter of nerves churned in your belly, but you used it, letting the feeling prickle awareness across your skin.

“Depends,” you said coyly.

Both his brows rose this time, as if he was surprised you were actually pretending to resist him.

“On?”

You subtly leaned forward when you gave him back his glass, allowing him to spy a bit more down your dress. You stared into his deep green eyes, and tried not to get lost yourself. He was an attractive man, but he was also your target. A job you intended to finish.

A smile played at your lips.

“On what excites you,” you replied.

By the way his eyes darkened, his smile curving, you thought he liked that answer.

Then his hand extended toward you, a silent command in his gaze. Steeling yourself, you tried your best to be graceful and sensuous when you took his hand. He playfully jerked you forward, making you fall into his lap.

You waved some dank weed smoke out of your face as you looked down at his amused one.

He was nearly down to the roach on his joint. Meanwhile, his free heavy hand slid up your bare leg, disappearing beneath your dress and making goosebumps spread across your skin. Your breath hitched, though you disguised it with a smile.

“You afraid of me, sweetheart?” he cooed.

Yes, if you were honest with yourself.

There was a false sense of security in his deep voice. You looked down into his eyes, very green and intensely focused on you, despite his air of nonchalance.

“Not really,” you replied. “Only that you might get ash on my dress.”

He chuckled, smoke blowing out his nose. He put out the joint in the ashtray and took another sip of his whiskey, likely to drown out the cotton taste in his mouth. You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin.

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips. You held his face, delving your fingers into his soft hair.

Soldier Boy grabbed your hips with a bruising force. It made you wince, instinctively biting into his lower lip. He uttered a pleased sound, guttural in this throat. You braced yourself against the wall behind him for leverage as his chair started to tip back.

Before either of you could fall, he lifted you effortlessly by the waist and pivoted, pinning you against that wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as his tongue invaded your mouth, devouring you with hot and heavy hands holding you in place.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of your thighs, and you knew you couldn’t easily escape if you needed to.

This is getting out of hand…

He was busy kissing a wet and sloppy line down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. It actually felt so fucking good to be touched. You hadn’t experienced it in so long, it almost startled you when your heated core pulsed with the friction you were feeling against the hardness in his slacks.

You would never admit it, but it wasn’t an act when you moaned into his ear. Fuck…

But when his hand again slipped under your dress and crept up your inner thigh, alarm bells triggered in your mind as panic started to set in. You panted for breath.

With him seemingly distracted, you reached down into your bra and grabbed the metal disk.

You gasped as Soldier Boy grabbed your wrist, tight as a vice. He looked down at you with a sly grin.

“You were fuckable in black, but red’s my favorite so far,” he said.

Your eyes widened. When the hell did he see me in black?

And then you remembered. You’d worn a black dress at the last club, where you got groped on the dance floor and found Soldier Boy’s latest note…

Had he hung around after all, watching you and the team pick up his clues?

And you realized, he knew exactly who you were.

Soldier Boy glanced down at your lips, then at the tops of your breasts heaving as you caught your breath. His eyes shone with mischief and lust.

“It’s a real shame. You’re probably a good fuck too,” he remarked. It sparked your irate disgust like a wildfire.

Then you smirked. “You can fuck this.”

You activated the disk in your hand and flicked it at him. He instinctively grabbed at his face, releasing you. The device attached to his cheek and electrified enough volts through his body to drop an elephant.

Maybe five. The CIA weapons specialist hadn’t been too sure.

And a star bolt shot Soldier Boy in the chest, shoving him away before he could grab at you.

You jumped back and continued to put several feet of distance between you and Soldier Boy, while Annie and the rest of your team poured into the room. They were poised for a fight, once Soldier Boy ripped the device off his face with a grunt. It probably hadn’t hurt him much, but he looked pissed now.

He rolled the kinks out of his neck and surveyed the room with a slow gait. He spared you a fleeting glance. You were now at the safety of Kimiko’s side, and Frenchie handed you a gun.

“Ah, the Scooby Gang,” Soldier Boy remarked. He nodded at Butcher. “This is how you repay me for taking care of Homelander? My own son.”

“He weren’t your fucking son,” Butcher replied. “I’d reckon you know that best of all.”

Soldier Boy’s lips twitched. Whether at a smile or a frown, you couldn’t tell.

“You found me, remember? So what, you got buyer’s remorse?” he said.

“See, the problem is, supes like you are what we call,” said Butcher, “a menace to fucking society.”

Soldier Boy’s lips pulled down into a frown. He looked a cross between annoyed and impatient.

“I fought for my country. I saved lives—”

“You took just as many as you might’ve saved,” M.M. interrupted. “And not just that building you burnt the fuck up last year.”

Soldier Boy hesitated at that. “You really wanna do this?”

You all really want to die? his eyes said. He got determined silence from all of you. He rolled his shoulders and adjusted his blazer.

“All right,” he shrugged.

Then all hell broke loose. You ducked for cover as Soldier Boy deflected the giant flare gun M.M. shot at him. With his bare hand.

Hired security then poured into the room—you assumed hired by Soldier Boy. And you protected Hughie from getting his neck snapped by shooting a man between the eyes.

You and M.M. continued to fight them off. Meanwhile, Kimiko and Annie tried to give Butcher and Frenchie a chance to get close with the Novichok gas on Soldier Boy.

You took care of three more men before you heard a low buzzing sound. You turned around, and a gasp fell from your lips when you saw Soldier Boy’s chest lighting up.

You knew what came next.

And so did Annie. She poured her all into her next star bolt—which managed to shove Soldier Boy through the window. She and Kimiko flew or otherwise ran out the window to follow him. While Butcher, Frenchie, and M.M. helped you fight off the last of the hired guns.

Finally, you covered Hughie as the five of you left the normal, human way, and ran down the stairs to exit the club. By the time you were able to join Annie and Kimiko, however, Soldier Boy had disappeared.

You glared down the dark, busy streets of Medellin.

Damn it!

You returned to the hotel disappointed and angry beyond fucking belief. Mostly at yourself.

After all the work you did, having to seduce and make out with that bastard, only to discover he’d made you long before you took the stage at the club.

Fucking hell, you thought angrily as you kicked at your suitcase. It sent your clothes tumbling across the dirty carpet, but right now you didn’t give a fuck. Damn cocky bastard.

In the bathroom, you kicked off your heels in relief. You looked yourself over in the mirror and found various cuts and bruises from the fight. Your softly curled hair was a shambles, along with your makeup.

Parts of your dress were torn, along with your pantyhose. Which was probably Soldier Boy’s doing, if you thought about it. You sighed.

You were about to start undressing, but then you heard something. A small sound, like a thump.

Your gun was on the table in the main room. Frowning in suspicion, you left the bathroom cautiously. Before your hand could close around your gun, a gloved hand grabbed your wrist.

You aimed a punch with your free one and caught a man directly in the jaw. He reeled back, but was quick to recover and try to grab you again.

While the guy was strong, you could feel that he wasn’t a supe. A human, you could deal with. He wore a mask over his face, but you could see he had shoulder-length brown hair. He was tall and lean, and one of his boots was strangely larger than the other.

You didn’t have time to focus on it. You redirected his following blow and used his strength against him, flipping him over your shoulder. Unfortunately, he landed on the table that held your poor laptop.

“Aw, shit,” you snapped with a grimace. You searched for your gun in the wreckage.

While you were somewhat distracted, he aimed a kick that caught you in the face, sending you onto your back with a pained cry. You quickly rolled over and got to your feet, just as your attacker threw out fist after fist.

You dodged and shoved away most of them, until he grabbed your arm and managed to crack his elbow into your temple.

You went down and hit your head hard against the bedframe.

And it was lights out.

You slowly, painfully woke up in a moving car.

You were suffering the cottony taste of a gag in your mouth and a musty bag over your head. Your wrists were tied in front of you, and it felt like you were shoved into the backseat. The car was quiet, save for the radio playing Latin pop on low volume.

You never would’ve thought Shakira would be the background track of your kidnapping, but here you were.

The car eventually stopped and you were dragged out, forced onto your feet on a cobblestone driveway. Then into a house.

…Well, this fucking sucks.

The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor. You couldn’t see where you were going with this stuffy bag over your head, but you knew it was tile. Your bare feet all but scraped across it as they dragged you.

Whoever held your arms in a vice grip eventually forced you to sit in a rickety wooden chair. They pulled your wrists behind the chair and bound them together with a zip tie.

You felt the slit on your dress sliding open, so you crossed your legs, for whatever good that would do you. At the very least, it would give the impression that you were sitting here casually, and not (figuratively) shitting yourself with fear.

“What the hell is this?” a deep, familiar voice asked.

“A gift.” You knew this voice as well. Neither one instilled you with calm.

Then the bag finally came off your head. The gag did not, however. You knew your red dress was in unfortunate tatters. You knew you were bruised and scratched, and overall worse for wear.

But when your gaze found your kidnapper, you glared up at him with a stubborn tilt to your chin. Antonio, Señor Groping Bastard from the club, was smirking back at you.

What the fuck.

Then you noticed him.

Soldier Boy stared back at you with raised brows, and instant recognition in his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

AN: 😬 So we finally made it to the prologue opener! Was it everything you thought it would be? How did you like her attempt at "undercover?" 🤭

And are you ready for what's coming next?

To keep reading: Part 3

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @waters-2567 @emily-winchester

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ohbo-ohno · 6 months

Note

Oh okay yes please talk about stalker Johnny and Ghost and reader with the make your own dick model 🙏🏻

yeeeesss. i should be writing 1k drabbles but you're getting this instead so i can get it out of my head. sorry not sorry!

stalker johnny who corrupts his girlfriend. you're very happy together and he very slowly introduces the idea of ghost... tells you all about how perfect his is, how strong, how big, how protective of his people, all sorts of things. paints this picture of an almost guardian angel type for her, sorta talks about ghost like he's a god

shows you pictures and his drawings too. and just, slowly, you starts to see ghost in the same way. it's definitely intentional on johnny's part - he tells you very specific stories about ghost to make him sound as perfect as possible

there's a bit of time when johnny starts to bring ghost into the bedroom. he'll fuck his pretty girlfriend with a strap and stuff a few fingers into her ass, whisper in her ear that he's stretching her out for simon. they'll make out and between kisses he'll whisper about what it would feel like to share ghost's cock between the two of you - both of you fighting over who gets to suck his shaft and who his balls, kissing around the head of his cock, fingering you while you suck his cock. it really works for you, and slowly but surely you share johnny's obsession

(he brings home a recording of ghost shouting at recruits one day. you've never come harder than when he fucks you with it playing in the background)

and ghost knows about johnny's little crush. how could he not? his sergeant follows him around like a puppy on base, constantly looking for approval, it would be impossible not to notice quite frankly. once johnny gets a girlfriend he thinks maybe the obsession will abate a bit, but... nope. if anything it gets worse

and, listen, ghost is a bit of an asshole. he's not above feeding johnny's obsession a bit. you think he doesn't see johnny filming him screaming at recruits? babe, he'll yell at johnny without pointing out the camera in his pocket. flexes a little bit when he catches johnny sneaking into the shower behind him. manhandles the boy by the back of his neck

he figures it's mostly harmless, though. honestly he's not sure johnny is freaky enough to really do anything about his crush

he meets you when the whole task force goes out for drinks one night. and ohhhh he gets it. he sees what's going on here.

you and johnny are like two little puppies, begging for his attention. he shows up to the table and sees you sitting in johnny's lap, and you're both staring up at him with stars in your eyes. it's a bit jarring, but ghost settles quickly. price and gaz fuck off early on in the night, and ghost is more than happy to spend some time with the two of you

the both of you pant after his attention all night. he tries to make small talk about your life but quickly realizes that you're only interested in hearing about him. sort of awkward, to be honest, but the attention is nice.

johnny scoots as close as he can with you in his lap, and ghost spreads his legs a bit press their thighs together. without saying anything he scoops your ankles up, setting them on the other side of his legs so you're laid out across him. ghost settles back into the cracked leather of the seat, throws an arm over johnny's shoulder, and takes a sip of his bourbon.

and oh you two blush so prettily

ghost honestly isn't sure if either you or johnny will be brave enough to do anything about your little crushes. he's not going to take that first step - he'll take all the steps after that, but he wants one of you to take the first - and he's a little disappointed when neither of you makes a move at the end of the night.

he notices something's wrong when he and johnny catch a ride home.

the heaviness in his limbs is terrifying at first, and he almost sounds the alarm before he sees the little gleam in johnny's eye.

and it clicks. he understands why his drink tasted just a little different when he came back to the table. and he lets himself relax into johnny's side, and starts planning how he'll get his boy back.

johnny helps him into his room, but leaves him be. simon applauds his restraint, and settles in to wait.

sure enough, less than an hour later, johnny sneaks into the room. ghost leaves his eyes shut, fighting the drugs to keep his mind present.

johnny nudges him a bit, then settles between his legs when he seems content that ghost isn't waking up any time soon. it's hard not to smirk.

"is he asleep?"

"yeah, bonnie, he's out."

oh now that's interesting, johnny's pretty little girlfriend is on the phone with him. your tinny voice sounds nervous but excited from the speaks, and johnny's is just excited.

it takes a while for ghost to figure out what the hell johnny is trying to do - he's never had a dick mold made of himself, alright? it's not an easy process to recognize. he wills himself to stay relaxed, and amuses himself with your conversation.

"oh, wow."

"what? is it big?"

a scoff. "big is an understatement. not sure even you'll be able to take this, lass."

an offended noise. "oh im sorry, this coming from the man who's stretched me out on his entire fist before?"

a laugh. "you're not face to face with his cock, bonnie. fuck, my fingers can't even wrap around it."

"...really?"

a moan. "yes, he's... thick, long. fuck, he's pretty."

ghost would laugh if he wasn't so complimented. who knew johnny would love his cock so much? alright, ghost knew. the boy hasn't been shy with his worship outside of the bedroom, it's not exactly a shock that he is inside of it.

"be careful you don't wake him."

"i'm not an amateur, lass. we watched him drink the whole thing, he's out for the night."

ghost almost laughs.

he's not sure how long johnny takes, but eventually he takes his phone and leaves. ghost's still drugged enough that he can't really look around and see what's happened, but he's pretty confident he knows at that point.

it's gratifying, to know that johnny is so obsessed that he wants to fuck his girlfriend with simon's cock.

now he's just got to figure out a way to watch him do it.

#ghoap x reader #bo writes #asks and answers

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fangirltothefullest · 4 months

Note

Can I ask a question? I like your sanders sides a lot and you give them a lot of personality in their designs! How do you make them like that? Or I guess I mean, what inspires you to make them the way that you do? I want to draw the sides but I'm not sure how to start other than their canon designs!

Oh my goodness I LOVE this question! For me, it's all about the feelings you get when you see them and the vibes I want to express. The Sides embody, to me, more than an aesthetic it should also encompass personality, role, and intention. In other words, I match their aesthetics to their function and the intent of what I feel like Thomas originally intended for them for their first short videos before they were actual sides.

Let us pick Roman, because even though people say he's not, he tends to be everyone's favourite to reblog fro me because he's pretty.

So I started by drawing him exactly as he was and to me he felt flat- in the show he's exactly as he should be but I am an artist and to me he feels more than what he looks like- it's dreamy, it's romantic, it's like he's giving childhood favouritre Disney Prince vibes, you know?

Inspiration 1: Prince Phillip

Hands down the biggest inspiration comes from him because he IS my favourite disney prince. Just looks a the hair swoop and the eyelashes- perfect. So I went ok my favourite Disney Prince is Phillip, let's start here. Before the CGI movies, there was such a romantic feeling about classic Disney princess movies and I've always loved the romantic feeling of Sleeping Beauty. The backgrounds are stunning, the way she's animated makes my bi ass give heart eyes and I loved that he was the only prince at the time who had a personality (until Beast but that's a whole other can of worms because he started out as an asshole/grumpy). I feel like modern Disney movies miss a lot of the romantic dreamy feeling of the older 2d movies because there was such care into the painted backgrounds being LESS realistic and more a fabulous idea of what a background should be and AHA! MORE INSPIRATION~! Let's make Roman a fabulous romantic idea of what a prince should be!

Inspiration 2: Faerietale Knights in Shining Armour

Our ideas of medieval knights are nothing like actual knights which are more reminiscent of hired military and enforcers. Our ideas of faerietale knights in shining armour are brave knights who would go off to kill a dragon to show their devotion to the one they love. Sword fighting heroes- is that not Roman if not an idealized romantic "royal knight wants to win the heart of the love with courageous deeds, acts of chivalry, selfless devotion" etc. Prince Phillip is a good model of this. Defeats a dragon and true love's kiss saves the day. A perfect romantic dream isn't it? Realistic? No of course not, but Roman isn't realistic he's creativity and romance which absolutely ignores practicality for the dream.

So we have this culmination of dreamy romantic disney prince and faerietale influence.

Now it's about aesthetics- Roman is reds and golds and whites, all royal colours typically associated with bravery, lineage, and strength and purity etc.

Inspiration 3: Media referencing

So let's find some movie or media equivalence I can reference. They came mostly in the forms of Narnia and Once Upon a Time.

So some aesthetic inspirations for belts and textures, missing the epaulets.... so to military garb!

Inspiration 4: Russian royals

Let's face it no one does embellishments like this any more <3

Inspiration 5: Lions

Roman's colours being red gold and white give me lion inspiration too so I looked up royal lion iconography as well (which ended up with a lot of lion king in the search because this was before AI but like.... it's not incorrect and the wavy flowy mane acted like hair. If Hamlet with lions is inspiring then use it, right? that have some AMAZING lion king-style artists on deviantart to get inspired by, it's a whole thing, mad respect) But ANYWAYS it gave me some cool stuff to be inspired by too.

Inspiration 6: Classic Golden Age Hollysood Leading Ladies (Note that this isn't femme fatales, because for Janus I used femme fatales as inspiration)

I knew that I just HAD to give Roman that Marilyn Monroe beauty mark, yes he paints it on every day yes it's in the same spot every day yes it's necessary.

Ultimately this culminated in a checklist of things that I wanted for him:

He must give the feeling of Prince Phillip in disney prince style

I wanted him to have flowey hair that makes him look softer and romantic and can be pulled up into a ponytail if necessary.

Must have a beauty mark and eyelashes that go on for ages reminiscent of old hollywood ladies, and let's throw in nail polish too.

I wanted him to have an outfit that would be his original but embellished to hell that can be like Narnia or OUaT in terms of texture and added stuff. It needed more gold, 100% needed epaulets (the shoulder things with the dangly rstuff), and it needed a belt where a sword could be attached. Danglies not always necessary, but look really good when done and is reminiscent of old fashioned military garb and Russian royalty.

He needed to look like he's used to wearing this outfit every single day and going out of his way to do so.

Ended up with this:

So yeah that's how I got to his design!

#sanders sides #tashiarts #how i get inspiration

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imliketheiceifreeze · 1 year

Text

Human Miles Quaritch x reader

Good girl-part 1

warnings: smut, swearing, minors DNI

4,491 words

PART TWO

background info:

you are a 25 year old botanist, closely shadowing Grace Augustine when you are forced to spend time with the very man you and your whole department despise in order to be granted access to a mission on Pandora; can you come to an arrangement that would suit you both?

You were deep in thought as you worked side by side with the great Grace Augustine, in her element as she sampled plants, her findings surprising even herself. It seemed the connection between Pandoran flora and the planet itself was much more intertwined than you ever would've believed.

"Can you believe it, ranger rick is requiring you to go through his bootcamp before you're allowed on the next mission, he'll delay the whole project, and with my best scientist too,"

Grace huffed as she paced back and forth in the lab, retrieving varying pieces of equipment and samples in a panicked flurry.

"What?"

You hissed lowly.

"Yeah you better believe it, I want you to kick that asshole in the balls if you get the chance,"

she growled, exasperated with the head of security's constant meddling in the science department, a place he didn't and would never understand.

"But why, why me?"

You whined, almost dropping your pipette at the thought of the horrors that man would put you through to ensure you were 'mission ready.'

"You're the only scientist that's not been out in Pandora yet, apparently it's part of a new safety regime, personally I think he's just doing it to get under my skin,"

she continued, finally ceasing her bustling around the room in a panic, settling one hand on her hip as she pondered all the possible solutions.

"I'd say.."

You mused in turn, the room falling silent as you both thought.

"Well I guess I'd better buck up and kick his ass,"

She laughed at the though, oh you were going to beat that man if it cost you your life

"Haha, and do it in the next week if that's alright,"

Grace chuckled a long, obviously amused at the thought of finally putting such an arrogant man in his place.

"Oh you bet I will."

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

You were informed that you would be attending daily strengthening and sparring sessions with the Colonel, in order for him to assess your abilities, your first session starting that very evening.

"God, I really don't want to do this, it's bullshit,"

you moaned aloud, head in hands as you addressed the table full of colleagues, all sympathising with your predicament. You hated the smug man, always wearing those stupid tank tops to show off his-admittedly muscular- arms, smirking at everyone like he was better than them.

"You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it,"

someone wiggled their eyebrows making you gag dramatically, pushing them playfully.

"If I ever enjoy that man, I want you to shoot me in the face,"

you deadpanned, making the table erupt into laughter once more, you, however, did not laugh, being deadly serious, and instead decided to distract yourself by shovelling food into your mouth as if you might be at risk of starving. That was until you felt a large hand gripping your shoulder, turning your head to find its owner, your eyes were met with a cold stare belonging to Colonel Quaritch.

"Y/N,"

he grinned, squeezing your flesh whilst his eyes tracked your movements like a predator watching its prey.

"Colonel,"

you seethed, ripping your shoulder from his grasp as if his touch burned, eyes still locked onto his, waiting for him to reveal his reasons for interrupting you important meal. He simply tapped his watch as he eyed you.

"I believe our first session is upon us,"

he spoke slowly, that same smug smile painted across his face, the one you knew he wore only to cover up his aggression.

"I need to change,"

you spoke dumbfounded, as if it were his fault and not your own poor timekeeping skills.

"Well you better hurry up, I expect you at the gym in 15, don't make me wait,"

he scolded, waltzing off like a peacock as your eyes dragged up from his heavy boots to the back of his head, hoping to burn holes in it.

"For fucks sake,"

you mumbled, pretending to bash your head in on the table before swinging your legs out from the bench and half jogging out of the hall, ignoring Grace's yell to 'not have too much fun', causing a scowl to pinch at your eyebrows, yet you had no time for a witty comeback. For as confident as you were talking shit about the Colonel to Grace and her colleagues, when faced with his looming presence, you couldn't deny the fear that prickled down the back of your spine, especially when he looked at you like he was about to eat you.

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

"Well well well, any later and I would've made you drop and give me 100."

He teased as you sprinted in, bent over and panting before the session had even begun. You said nothing at this comment though, suddenly feeling a little shy being in such an enclosed space with the intimidating man.

"You do any sports Y/N?"

He questioned, his tone now serious as he cocked his hip, one hand resting on his belt buckle.

"I dance a little."

you answered, causing a flash of surprise to cross his features as he clapped his hands together.

"Great, good to know you're not completely sedentary like the other science pukes,"

he laughed making your nose wrinkle in anger.

"Now first is fitness, so I want you to run laps around this room until I tell you to stop,"

he instructed, nodding his head at you expectantly as you groaned in annoyance, starting up another jog and beginning to fulfil his wishes, albeit reluctantly.

The man was gruelling, having you shaking after only the 'warmup' was complete, now looking up at him incredulously from your hands and knees after he'd forced you to show him another 20 press-ups.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed, most the other tree huggers would've tapped out by now,"

he grinned causing you to rise up shakily with your fists clenched at your sides.

"Yeah, well I'm not a quitter,"

you spat, holding his intense gaze, your words only seeming to amuse him further.

"Hm I can see that,"

he nodded with an unreadable expression.

"Go and get a drink, when you come back we'll start with some basic self defence,"

he grunted, watching you jog over to your water, taking greedy gulps from the bottle, the sweet relief from the burning in your throat making you moan in delight, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Once you'd moved the bottle from your lips, your eyes shot to the side, suddenly aware of the Colonel's intense gaze, making you feel exposed as you wiped the water dripping from your chin hastily so as not to make a mess. He coughed to ease the silence before speaking again, more softly than usual,

"You ready?"

You nodded, walking swiftly over to his side, ready to receive instruction.

"Your daddy ever teach you how to punch?"

He asked condescendingly, making your eyes narrow, your body acting before your brain could comprehend, throwing an admittedly feeble, hit to his jaw that he blocked with ease, a deep laugh ripping from his throat as he did.

"I'll take that as a no,"

he jibed, doing nothing to dissipate your anger.

"Come on stand properly,"

he tutted in annoyance, using one leg to kick apart your own before moving your arms up to your face.

"Keep these here to block,"

he grunted, placing one hand on your hip, causing your breath to hitch at his closeness.

"When you punch with this arm, twist from here to give you power,"

he manoeuvred one of your arms with calloused hands to show what he meant, his grip surprisingly gentle on your waist, causing your body temperature to rise exponentially. You'd never really had the chance to look at him up close until now but he wasn't bad to look at, you wondered if he had a wife or girlfriend back home. Then it hit you, what you were feeling for a man you'd always claimed you hated, yet in that moment all you wanted was for him to bend you over on that gym floor and take you for all you were worth.

"You got that darlin'?"

He stifled a laugh at your obvious staring, you looked like a deer in headlights as a crimson blush crawled its way up from your neck to your cheeks.

"Yes sir,"

you breathed, voice barely above a whisper, his presence starting to affect you much more than you'd hoped. He stood back, letting go of you, much to your dismay, as he raised both palms, flat, either side of his face.

"Come at me then."

You sat back in a lunge, placing your feet like he said before and twisting your body to land one punch to his left palm.

"You call that a hit, go again,"

he growled, causing you to come back harder.

"Better, again."

His lesson continued on much the same, with him ordering you to punch quicker, hold yourself stronger, all while he didn't seem to be breaking a sweat, those blue eyes following your every move.

"Sir, how is punching your hand gonna help me survive Pandora?"

You whined, tired out after half an hour of relentless jabs.

"You questioning my teachings doll? what do you suggest then huh?"

You rolled your eyes at his condescending attitude, ceasing your assault on his reddened hands as you sat back in your hip to think.

"I want to spar,"

you concluded suddenly, causing a choking laugh to rip from the man above you, his chest heaving with the force of his amusement.

"You, want to spar with me?"

He accentuated the words by pressing a finger into your sternum before pointing back to himself, a look of disbelief settled into his features as he waited for a response.

"That's what I said isn't it? Or are you scared?"

You teased, catching your lip between your teeth as a devious smile crossed your lips.

"Oh that's how you wanna play, alright then lil darlin', do your worst,"

he stepped back to allow you room to attack as he positioned himself, eyes tracking your body movements like a fox. You wanted him to attack first to give you the upper hand but you could see he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction. So you did what you knew you could, lunging towards him you threw a fist to his jaw, but like the last time he caught your wrist, using it to lock your arm behind you and pulling you into his chest.

"I thought I already taught you how to punch,"

he mused, pulling your arm tighter, causing you to moan in pain as you struggled against him.

"Obviously not well enough,"

you seethed, lifting a leg behind you to crash a foot into his crown jewels, as per Grace's request.

"Ah you little shit,"

he grunted, falling to his knees with the pain, dragging you down with him as he pushed you onto your elbows and knees, his own body caging you to the mat as he breathed heavily against your ear.

"Looks like you're mine,"

his husky voice graced your ears making a poorly suppressed shiver wrack your body, able to feel his body heat so well through your back, it was driving you crazy. Instead of squirming out of his hold you dropped limp against the mat in submission, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes.

"you're heavy,"

you moaned in aggravation, wondering why he still had you pinned to the floor. At your words he removed himself swiftly, sitting back on his knees with a groan, but before he could rise to standing, you had spun into a crouching position, launching yourself at the Colonel to throw him off balance, falling back onto his ass with a grunt. You bounced into a straddling position before sliding your hips to lean against his chest, pinning all your weight into one arm pressed against his neck as you shuffled around to keep your balance. What you didn't expect was one large hand flying to your hip, gripping it like a vice as Quaritch closed his eyes in pain.

"Jesus Christ, stop moving Y/N,"

he all but groaned making your face heat up, suddenly aware of the intimate position, especially when his fingers began to rub slow circles on your hipbone, as if to calm himself. Once opened, his eyes were lazy as they watched you, settling on your face but flicking down to where you sat on his hips once or twice.

"Not that I mind, but you planning on sitting there all day?"

Quaritch smirked, both hands now resting either side of your hips as you sat up, frozen in place by his unwavering stare. Snapping out of your daze quickly, you scrambled out of his lap, heat now throbbing in your body at his suggestive words.

"Oh no you don't."

You heard a voice ring out before you were, once again, pinned to the floor, this time on your back, with the colonel above you, his elbows resting either side of your face as he leaned down to whisper against your ear.

"I think this means I win Darlin',"

his voice, his body, his lips brushing your earlobe, it was all too much for you and you turned your head away from him letting out a pitiful whine as your core throbbed, begging for attention.

"What was that baby? I couldn't quite hear you,"

his voice was strained, now directed against your neck as his lips ghosted your skin, letting them press a few gentle kisses here and there on his journey to your shoulder. You really couldn't help the way your back arched against him desperately or the feeble noises that escaped your mouth.

"Colonel, stop,"

you panted, one arm coming up to grip his back, tugging him in hopes he'd press himself closer.

"Stop?"

He spoke surprised, pulling off of you almost completely as he took in your blushing form, it almost made him laugh how quickly you'd submitted to him in spite of your fighting talk.

"Hmh stop teasing me,"

you whispered in embarrassment, arms coming to cling at the sides of his tank top as you eyed him needily. At your words Quaritch ground himself a little into you, making a moan slip past your lips as he leaned back over, kissing along your jaw and sucking at your pulse causing your breath to hitch, hands still clamped around his shirt.

"Oh I'd never tease you baby,"

The Colonel cooed, pulling back swiftly to yank off his tank, contrary to his words, watching the way that your eyes raked across his naked torso with pride, before reattaching to your neck, teeth grazing your skin occasionally as you writhed in his hold. The tension of the situation was becoming too much for you to bear when you brought your hands up to his silver hair, running your nails across his scalp, pulling a groan from his own lips.

"Then kiss me,"

you breathed, tugging his hair to pull him from her chest, wanting to look at his handsome features once more. Those stormy blue eyes pierced into you as you admired him. You'd never admit it but those scars that marred his face made you so much wetter. You reached a hand to run against the raised lines through his hair, his intense gaze never faltering.

"Yes ma'am,"

a whisper of a laugh left him before he leant down to capture your lips in his, the shock of the sensation making you moan before his mouth began to massage your own. You were lost in the feeling of him and once he slipped his tongue through your lips, you knew you were done for, the warm muscle licking softly into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, rolling them against his own. You were thankful that your wanton moans were muffled by his mouth as you crumbled against him, one leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer as you ran your fingers through his short hair.

"Easy girl, you do that and I can't guarantee I won't fuck you right here."

He grunted, landing a soft spank to your thigh, but you were well passed self respect.

"Hm please, please, I can't take it,"

you whined, drunk on the pleasure Quaritch was giving you.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy,"

he groaned in frustration tipping his head back.

"You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could see you, such a fucking whore baby,"

he snarled, pulling at his belt to open the clasp, his words made you whimper though, worried you might be acting too desperate.

"com'ere,"

he spoke, more softly this time at your forlorn face, pressing a kiss to your lips as he fiddled with the button of his trousers, unzipping the fly and pulling out his half hard cock before stroking it in front of your wide eyes to bring it to full mast. It was thick and pink at the tip, leaking a little precum causing squelching noises to reverberate around the empty room as his hand continued its ministrations. Seeing your still form he leant back over you, slipping his fingers under the waistband of your shorts as his eyes met yours.

"You okay? we can stop if you want to,"

He voiced a little worriedly in response to your wide eyed gaze.

"No, don't stop, please,"

you protested, wiggling out of your gym shorts in a hurry, desperate to feel him inside of you at long last. He reached his fingers down, pulling your underwear to the side, slowly easing in one thick digit which you sucked in eagerly causing him to breathe sharply.

"Fuck so wet for me already, you're really clamping down on me there honey,"

he groaned, eyes locked onto your sex, wiggling in a second finger quickly before pumping it a few times, the feeling having you seeing stars, especially when he curled his fingers a certain way that had you writhing on the floor and calling out for him.

"I think you're ready baby,"

he grunted, lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing the head in swiftly, despite the discomfort it was causing you.

"Shit, you gotta ease up baby I can't move,"

he choked out, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked up to the ceiling as if in need of guidance.

"Mmm Colonel, feels good, keep going,"

you encouraged, pushing your own hips forward to ease him in further causing him to grunt and fall to his elbows.

"Fuck keep still for a minute,"

he gasped, tapping your hip at the instruction before gripping your thigh and hoisting one leg over his shoulder. You laid still, getting used to the stretch, although, feeling a little embarrassed now laid out bare in the RDA gym with your Colonel's cock half inside you.

"You ready?"

He huffed finally, icy eyes meeting yours with a predatory gaze.

"Yes sir,"

you grinned, liking how easy it was to rile him up and at that comment his hips snapped completely to the hilt until he was fully breached, the length almost touching your cervix, a low moan rumbling from your throat in response, it felt like he was almost in your airways.

"Always knew you were a little minx, just wanted someone to punish you properly didn't you?"

He growled, setting a ferocious pace that had you sliding back with the force, hands grappling behind you for the non existent bed-post.

"Only you sir, just wanted you to punish me,"

you cried, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, back arching up into him with every hit to that certain spot inside of you.

"Yeah, it's just for me isn't it, my little whore,"

he groaned a reply, his thrusts becoming impossibly rougher as he caught your clawing hands in his own, bringing them to his back, allowing you to rake your nails into his skin as you endlessly searched for something to ground your against the way he was fucking you dumb.

Neither of you bothered keep down the noises of your sinful actions, both too lost in the pleasure of one another to even care.

"Colonel, I'm gonna, I need,"

you babbled, unable to even form a coherent sentence when you felt the pressure build up inside you from the way his cock was massaging your insides so nicely.

"Be a good girl and come for your Colonel then,"

he grunted, reaching down to rub circles over your clit, making you squeal, locking your leg around his shoulder as you shuddered, the dam inside you bursting as you gripped onto him tightly.

"That's it, shit, good girl, come all over my cock,"

he cooed, his hips stuttering in time with the fluttering of your walls.

"So tight, gripping me like a vice darlin',"

he groaned, punching three more hard thrusts into your slick cunt before he spilled his load inside you, calling out your name as he did it, the spurts of hot cum painting your walls as his, causing you to moan out hoarsely as you held on to him for dear life.

You were both completely spent, Quaritch pulling out quickly before he collapsed onto to the floor beside you, panting from the exertion of your activities.

"Com'ere baby,"

he muttered, tugging you into his side, strong arms wrapping around your waist, face nuzzling your hair whilst you lay on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his steady heartbeats, drawing patterns aimlessly on his abdomen, neither of you caring about your incriminating positions.

"Mm, Colonel"

you mumbled into his sternum, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion, causing a lazy chuckle to arise from above you.

"You all fucked out sweetheart?"

His unscrupulous expression and tilting head never failing to rile you up when he wore that same cunning grin, even if he was right.

"Not like you're any better,"

you grumbled, huffing childishly in annoyance.

"Yeah, I gotta admit you're right on that one, you're a fiery little thing aren't you."

He swatted your ass as he spoke, causing a delighted smile to grace your own lips this time.

"Gave me the battle scars to show for it and everything,"

he continued, eyes trained on his stomach causing you to follow his gaze in confusion before you spied the bright red claw marks littering his skin, dragging all the way down from his shoulders to his hips and you could only imagine the kind damage his back had taken. The sight made a possessive feeling well up in your chest, especially at the thought of someone else seeing them, knowing that he'd fucked you so good. He watched intently as your eyes widened in shock before a smirk settled on your face, fingers tracing the welts on his skin gently.

"Those might be a bit more of a pain to hide though,"

he mused, bringing you out of your thoughts as a singular finger dragged along your neck and shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

You asked dumbly, only when you pulled your shoulder up to your eyes did you become aware of the dark purple blotches he had left, one being shaped suspiciously like the indentation of teeth, making you glower in mock anger.

"Don't act like you weren't the one begging me to rail you darlin',"

he sent you a self-satisfied smirk making you scoff, unable to reply with more than a meagre,

"asshole,"

as you both lay there in comfortable silence, too worn out to make any move to redress or make yourselves look at least a little presentable, that was until you heard the sounds of footsteps readily approaching the gym hall along with the muffled voices of soldiers.

"Shit,"

you exclaimed, scrambling for your shorts thrown halfway across the room as Quaritch too pulled on his shirt, urgently zipping himself back into his cammies, wide eyes meeting yours.

"Oh hey, Colonel...."

Lyle spoke as he and Z-dog stopped in their tracks, taking in your dishevelled appearances and awkward demeanor as you stood about a foot apart

"Y/N?"

His voice rose up when he said your name, as if he were questioning your presence as Z-dog let out an undignified snort from behind him. You knew it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the kind of training you and the Colonel had been doing wasn't exactly RDA standard, only to be further confirmed when you felt the slow dripping of warm liquid from between your thighs and onto the floor below, hurriedly crossing your legs in shame, why the hell did you let him come inside you in the first place?

Luckily, the Colonel's audaciousness saved you any further embarrassment, marching up to his soldiers he barked,

"This gym is occupied for assessments, go train somewhere else and make it quick,"

practically herding them out of the door and slamming it shut behind them before striding back over to your paled form.

"You alright Y/N?"

He placed one hand on your lower back, crouching slightly to meet your eyes with a look of sincerity.

"Fucking hell, do you think they know?"

"Hah, you mean do I think they spotted my cum dripping down your legs? Not sure baby but I sure did,"

he pushed your crossed thighs apart, eyes glowing with amusement at the sight.

"Such a good girl taking your Colonel's cum like that,"

he teased, pulling you closer to his chest before tilting your chin with his fingers, refusing to look away from your wide eyes.

"Don't you dare call me that around other people,"

you glowered, lips brushing his when you spoke.

"Wouldn't dream of it darlin',"

he replied in his gruff tone, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that almost had your knees buckling all over again.

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

"Well I don't know what in the hell kind of voodoo you pulled but Quaritch is allowing you to go on the upcoming mission, no delays, even said he was impressed by your stamina!"

Grace emoted with a cigarette in hand, not fully understanding the sentiment of his words, oh but you did, blushing deeply at the memory.

"Wow, who'd have thought,"

you barely squeaked out as you fiddled haphazardly with the test tubes in front of your hands.

"Knew I could count on you to take him by the balls Y/N,"

she nodded, slapping your back gratefully, spurring a coughing fit from you, mind flicking back to your most recent encounter with the colonel which had you on your knees for him obediently beneath his desk.

"Yep, always happy to,"

you stuttered out, causing Grace to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I mean, no aha, just, doing my duty,"

you clumsily filled the silence, not missing the look of surprise held by Grace which she quickly pushed away, taking another drag to distract herself from your strange behaviour.

"Right..."

end

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wisteria-cherry · 6 months

Text

forty days and forty nights (day thirty-six) (part one) (bonus)

hello my lovely cherry blossoms <3 as promised, i’ve decided to write this particular part from katsuki’s perspective :) i do keep my (y/n) pretty feminine, so i will be writing this with she/her pronouns. however, if you do go by other pronouns, please just message me, and i will gladly repost it with your desired pronouns!

katsuki, despite what the public said about him, was a very cautious person. each punch, each explosion when fighting a villain was planned and executed with deadly detail and precision, which is part of why he’d risen through the ranks so quickly to become the youngest number one hero in the history of japan. this meant that in almost every situation, katsuki knew what he had to do.

almost.

when katsuki had realized that he liked you— in a more-than-a-friend way— he had no idea what to do. he tried to act normal, which for the most part was pretty easy. however, there were some moments— like when you were acting all awkward for those couple days— where he couldn’t help but feel concerned.

you’d been weird for the past day and a half, too. you kept glancing out the window and at your one coworker’s weird ass boyfriend. your coworker wasn’t even there, why would he be there? katsuki doubted that the man was actually your coworker’s boyfriend. and even if he was, he was a shitty, creepy-ass boyfriend.

katsuki knew you thought he didn’t notice, but he was a hero; he’s trained to notice. he noticed the way your eyes had barely noticeable bags under them. the way you looked around more often. the way you seemed distracted. more distant. it pissed him off because he couldn’t get himself to confront you— even though he never had any trouble doing it before. he just couldn’t explain it.

katsuki was also pretty damn annoyed when some dumbfuck secretary of his had scheduled his patrol in such a stupid way. he had to leave you and the shop abruptly so he could start when he needed to; after all, katsuki was a stickler for schedules. so, he was not at all opposed when you called him during patrol. but you didn’t need to know that.

katsuki glanced in the direction of the noise as he heard his phone ring. clicking his tongue, he took off one of his heavily padded gloves and shoved his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“i’m on patrol, make it quick, dumbass.” he grunted. he heard shuffling, like something on the sidewalk. not shoes— something softer. fabric? in the background of the call, he heard footsteps, too. weird.

“flower house—“ came your voice, and katsuki was immediately on high alert. you sounded like you were terrified, and out of breath. your voice rose to a shrill cry as you gasped out, “flower- flower house— no!” katsuki watched the screen as the call disconnected, and that’s when it all clicked.

something was wrong.

flower house. that was what you’d called that obnoxiously painted house on the corner, the one you’d pointed out when he was illustrating the streets he’d take every day to you early in your friendship— the one right up ahead on his patrol route.

katsuki immediately picked up the pace.

this was not gonna slide. fuck no.

katsuki found himself getting impatient with his damn legs, despite the fact that he was running. katsuki leaped, and immediately blew himself into the air.

katsuki caught a visual on you almost immediately. there was some loser moving towards you. you were on the ground. this wasn’t going to slide, no way in hell. as soon as he was close enough, he dropped down behind the asshole, stalking towards him. katsuki’s hands sparked involuntarily, something that hadn’t happened in years due to meticulous training to gain the most precise control over his quirk possible. katsuki didn’t mind. he knew he looked scary; that was the whole point of his costume design. he knew that his size contributed damn well to his cause: easily over 6 feet and well over 200 lbs of pure muscle.

“absolutely not.” katsuki snarled, his eyes dead focused on the man. dead like this guy was going to be in a matter of minutes. “absolutely the fuck not.” the guy tried to babble out some shitty excuse, but katsuki didn’t care. you were clearly not familiar with this guy, and you very clearly didn’t like the situation you were in. then he tried to touch you. there was no way katsuki was letting that happen.

katsuki was by your side as soon as the man’s hand moved to grab your wrist.

“i said,” katsuki repeated, lower, slower. “absolutely. the fuck. not.” the man’s nose twitched. disdain. under all that cowardice, this asshole still had the nerve to think lowly of him.

that’s when katsuki snapped. his infamous right hook got the guy right in the face. katsuki heard a crunch. katsuki might’ve broken his nose, but who cared? he was down, and it felt good.

katsuki pulled out quirk suppressors from his belt and secured them around the guy’s wrists, all but satisfied, but knowing they any more might end up badly; an abuse of power. so, katsuki focused on you. he forced himself to relax, letting his lungs take on deep breaths of the night air, and making sure the snarl he knew was there was wiped off his face so you wouldn’t be so scared when he turned to look at you. katsuki popped a squat, immediately looking for signs of head trauma. you seemed alright.

“oi. you call the police yet?” katsuki grunted. you shook your head and pointed at a shattered phone on the sidewalk next to you. your phone. he’d have to buy you a new one sometime.

“tch.” katsuki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. isn’t that the first thing civilians do? call for help? so, what gives? “that explains it.” katsuki stood back up so he could call them himself.

“just gimme a second, sweetheart, ‘m gonna call the police for ya.” katsuki reassured you. he didn’t know why he called you sweetheart, but it felt remarkably comfortable given the situation. he’s content with your nod and dials the hotline, listening to their usual spiel before speaking.

“it’s dynamight.” katsuki stated.

“ah, dynamight, sir. do you need assistance in cleanup?”

“yeah.”

“do you require backup?”

“no, civilian almost got attacked by some fuckwad-“ katsuki gets interrupted. asshole.

“sir, we ask that you use professional language whilst on call. please refer to the ‘fuckwad’ as a civilian, similar to the victim..”

“no, i'm not gonna refer to him as a civilian too, he's a goddamn asshole.” katsuki snapped, already losing his patience with this lady.

“sir, it’s imperative that we use professional terminology so that—“

“goddammit, will you shut the hell up and send some damn police?” katsuki groaned. “someone's gotta take this fuck away, i can't do it right now, i got shit to do.”

“yes, dynamight, but please take into consideration what has been said.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. fuck you. you got my location or what?”

“yes, we do,” said the dispatcher slightly irritably. tch. if she was getting irritated by this, then they need to get a new dispatcher. “we’ll have the police to you shortly.”

"yeah, okay."

“is the victim alright?”

"yeah, she's fine, just some scrapes from fallin’.”

“so there is not a need for emergency medical services, is that correct?”

"yeah."

“alright. we will have the police with you in upwards to fifteen minutes.”

"yeah, okay." katsuki hung up, then turned back to you, crouching down on the pavement.

“can ya stand up?” katsuki asked, then frowned. you were crying. it just have just begun to set in. “…you’re crying.” you bring a hand to your face, feeling your cheeks for tears blankly.

“oh.” you murmur, your voice cracking slightly. “i can stand up.” you brace yourself on the sidewalk and move to stand up, and you pretty much succeed, but then you collapse almost immediately before you do. katsuki instantly caught you, his hands fitting securely on your waist. his hands. your waist.

fuck.

katsuki immediately shook away the feeling. this was absolutely not the time for this shit.

“hey, easy.” katsuki warned. he figured you were in shock. just to confirm, he eased you down back onto the ground, nice and close to him, and slid his thick, padded gloves off his hands. he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before holding your face. dilated pupils. definitely in shock. katsuki told himself that checking for shock was indeed the only reason he was holding your face like that.

“you’re in shock, dumbass,” katsuki told you. “don’t move yet.”

“okay,” you agree easily, then turn your head slightly to look at the man. you shudder and look back at katsuki, mortified. your breathing quickens and quickens. katsuki’s frown deepens.

“can ya breathe f’me?” katsuki did his best to ground you. “c’mon, deep breaths.”

you nod, and you slowly start to match the pace katsuki had set with his own breathing pattern.

katsuki and you continued to breathe together as the cops arrived. finally. katsuki easily lifted you up, telling himself that the hand he kept on your back was so he could continue to monitor your breathing as he talked to them.

god, he was selfish.

regardless, though, you seemed to like it, so he didn’t stop, even after the cops left.

"you gonna tell me what happened?" he asked finally, seeing that you seemed to be recovering a little bit, at least from the initial shock. he began to walk towards his agency, figuring he’d have to do the report, or at least tell one of those shitty sidekicks to do it.

"yeah." you answered, your voice scratchy as hell. you pause for a moment, then tell him probably the shittiest explanation he’d ever heard for an assault. "he'd been stalking me for days. then i confronted him then ran. he chased me. that's it.”

stalking.

he’d been stalking you.

katsuki was going to murder that man.

but not yet. right now, you needed him. and he couldn’t get angry right now because another pissed off guy is not what you need.

“stalking?” katsuki asked, his voice trembling with fury despite his attempts to keep it level. “why didn’t you tell me? that asshole's being arrested for attempted assault. stalking's a whole other charge to be added." you shrug. katsuki just didn’t get it. didn’t you want the guy to get locked up for as long as he could? katsuki took a deep breath to calm himself.

"well, whatever." he grumbled. "listen... you probably don't wanna be alone tonight, do you? lotta people don't after this kind of thing." you shook your head. katsuki had figured that would be the answer.

“you want me to call up pinky?” katsuki asked as he walked, dry leaves crunching under his boots. “she’ll let you crash if you—“

“you.” you interrupted. katsuki stopped and tensed. were you saying what he thought you were saying?

“…you wanna crash at my place.” he confirmed. you nod.

“if i can.” you add, almost silently. katsuki considered. there wasn’t anything that would prevent you from doing so. katsuki exhaled slowly, trying to calm his pounding heart (and head).

“yeah,” katsuki said, trying to feign nonchalance as he continued walking. “whatever, dumbass. you need to get anything from my place?”

“no.” bullshit. you had nothing but the clothes on your back and a smashed phone. katsuki looked at you skeptically.

guess she’ll just borrow my shit, katsuki concluded. he bet you’d look cute in his shirt. he knew exactly which one he’d loan to you if you asked.

goddammit. katsuki cursed. what the fuck am i doing? acting like this when she’s probably just been fucking traumatized.

what an asshole.

katsuki stopped in his tracks. you know what? fuck the report. he was gonna prove to himself that he’s doing this because he fucking cares about you, not just because he likes you or whatever.

“i’m gonna blast us back, got it?” katsuki looked up, surveying the sky. nice and clear. katsuki shifted you to one arm easily, feeling you adjust your grip on him. “it’s gonna be loud, so cover your damn ears. ready?”

“you.”

(feel free to comment + lmk what you think :)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity @jazzafayesworld @failingstudents-blog @stevenknightmarc @faerikitty @deathsmajestysworld

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader #pro hero dynamight #bakugo pov

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pankowperfection · 1 year

Text

Worth the Wait

God, his stylist knew what they were doing when they dressed him this morning. Rudy was always sexy, but something about the wild colors on his polo mixed with the tight denim was driving you crazy.

The look screamed young and carefree, perfectly messy hair and those damn sunglasses he kept chewing on the end of. Watching him smile and pose with fans made your heart melt, so happy that everyone loved JJ as much as both of you did.

You swear he's teasing you on purpose. Flashing his sexiest smirk for the cameras. His eyes shift to you standing on the sidelines, raking over your barely concealed body in your crop top and jean shorts. The photographers shout to get his attention and he turns back to face them, sticking out his tongue while the fans scream in the background.

As he steps off the carpet, pushing his sunglasses back into place, he catches you checking him out. He flashes his signature grin, dimple on display as he waggles his eyebrows, making you laugh but also making you wish you could sneak away somewhere for a quickie.

After a whirlwind afternoon you finally find yourselves alone, sitting on two folding chairs and drinking some water. Absentmindedly he places his ring adorned hand on your bare thigh, sparks shooting under your skin straight to your core. "Rudy..." you sigh, biting your lip while pressing your thighs together for relief.

"What is it princess?" He turns to face you fully, blue eyes raking over your face to see what was the matter.

"You're driving me crazy."

Again he grins, slowly grazing the tips of his fingers further up your thigh. "Oh really? Well I just thought I'd return the favor since you've forced me to hide a hard on all day."

When he reaches the edge of your shorts you suck in a sharp breath, so into the moment you don't even care that you're out in the open where anyone could see.

"Baby please. I need you."

"Not here, come on." He stands, grabbing your hand and helping you to your feet.

You both walk quickly, trying not to look suspicious but unable to contain your giggles.

He makes a sudden turn, your body crashing into his before he has you pinned against the wall.

"Such a bad girl. Can't even wait until we get home," he murmurs into your ear, nose ghosting down over your neck and making your shiver.

"You better cum fast, I have to make another appearance in 10 minutes."

Wasting no time his hand dives below your waistband, fingers eagerly searching for your clit and starting to rub it in harsh circles. You rise onto your tip toes, crashing your lips to his to keep your moans quiet.

Two fingers dip lower, probing your entrance before sliding all the way inside. He curls them expertly, each thrust making the band in your stomach wind tighter.

"Fuck Rudy, feels so good." One hand grips the base of his neck for support, the other reaching for the straining zipper of his pants, starting to stroke him through the material.

"Shit sweetheart, gonna make me go back out there with cum in my pants?" He doubles his efforts, each pass of his thumb over your sensitive nub making pleasure shoot through your system.

"Mmm baby, I'm gonna cum."

"That's it y/n, soak my fingers. Come on."

He silences you with a kiss just in time, orgasm washing over as your legs threaten to give out. As soon as you catch your breath you drop to your knees, freeing him from his pants just enough to swallow him whole.

"Oh fuck," he groans, hands flying to the wall for support as you start to bob your head quickly. Your tongue teases his tip, each flick making him shudder. In almost no time at all you feel him tense in your mouth, warm release painting your tongue white.

You lick him clean, tucking him away and redoing his zipper before playfully swatting him on the ass. He makes sure you're watching as he licks his fingers, moaning at the taste of you on his skin.

"Just wait until we get home, you have no idea all the things I'm gonna do to you."

You grin, lacing your fingers together as you start to head back to the main event.

"You better make it worth the wait."

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @drewbooooo @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge

#rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow smut #rudeth #rudy pankow #rudy x reader

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dearsnow · 11 months

Text

THOUGH I KNOW MY HEART WOULD BREAK

Part 1 || Part 2

- your best friend has come to collect you after your first true night out, and you can’t keep your feelings in any longer (patrick verona x gn!reader, angst that will be resolved ⚠️ strong themes of alcohol / being drunk and smoking, there will be a second part)

word count: 1,187

a/n - aaa my first patrick fic!! i’m definitely going to make a second part because i absolutely cannot leave this unresolved lol. lightly inspired by “francesca” by hozier :)

Partygoers whirl around you, blending flesh with flashing lights and the strong smell of alcohol. You laugh at the feeling of people brushing by your shoulder, the slight touches sending shivers through your skin. You’ve had way too much to drink, and you revel in the feeling.

God, you never knew how good being drunk felt. That’s the problem with never getting out- you won’t get to experience how light your feet are after a couple glasses. You hardly even notice the arm slung around your shoulder.

“There you are. God, you got me worried sick! I can’t leave you alone for one night, can I?” The man half-grins. You instantly recognize him. It would be hard not to, with his brown curls and gorgeous smile.

“Patrick! What are you doing here?” You slur, melting into his touch. Your best friend has come to rescue you. The thought, slippery and soft, sets butterflies loose in your stomach. Patrick Verona is at a party for you. And you love him more than your voice could ever say.

“Oh, you know, just to mingle.” You begin to nod before he cuts you off. “No, I’m here to take your ass home.” His expression turns sullen as a hint of worry lingers in his eyes. His eyebrows are pinched, and it takes your last drop of willpower to avoid reaching up to smooth them with your thumb.

You scrunch your nose. He’s yelling over the cacophony of noise in the background, but his voice is all you can focus on. “But I’m having fun for once in my miserable life.” You poke his chest. “You can’t take that away from me, not right now.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely going home. Your goody two-shoes butt will not appreciate waking up in a stranger’s house.” You frown. “Trust me.” He’s speaking a bit quicker than normal, but you’re so focused on how his eyes reflect the light that you barely notice. Nothing in the whole entire world is prettier than this moment. Not the mountains, or fresh dew, or that perfume bottle you saw in a thrift store once. He is beautiful.

You let out a sigh, slightly disappointed that you won’t be able to revel at the strobe lights for much longer. The mess of color around you was abstract art in your mind, a canvas splattered with paint. In any case, however, you will always follow Patrick. Even to the ends of the Earth.

“Ok…” You trail off as he leads you out of the stranger’s house. He’s been smoking again, as told by the lingering scent on his shirt. You’ve always hated his smoking. The smell, however, lights some sort of fire inside you. You just wish it didn’t hurt him.

When you get outside, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders. The night is cold, but the stars are out. They twinkle above your head, and your breaths form clouds in the air. The noise of the party is muted, and the sky is spinning, and Patrick is worriedly waving his hand in front of your face.

That’s really the last thing you remember before you’re walking through your front door. Your parents aren’t home, thank God. There is no chance they would be happy with this situation- you, drunk, and Padua’s most feared boy bringing you home.

“Careful,” He mutters as you stumble into your bedroom. How he got you in a car is a mystery, considering the fact everything in your line of sight is blurry. You could hold a book two inches from your face and not be able to see a word. You sit down on your mattress, patting the spot next to you. He sits, and you feel the familiar little jolt in your abdomen that you always feel when he’s close. You can hardly look him in the eye; not just because you’re drunk, though that is certainly a factor.

Your room is dark, and your floor is messy, and so is his hair. You suck in your breath. You want to say something, anything, and your mind can only come up with one idea.

You need to do this. You’ve been thinking it for so long, and he deserves to know. Something in your mind is telling you not to, but the liquid courage in your veins is telling you ‘yes, yes, a million times yes’. Even though it might break your heart, the words slip past your lips like a snake to hang in the heavy air.

“I love you.”

“What was that?” His eyebrows raise as he looks at you like you’re insane. That didn’t really come out of your mouth, did it?

“I love you, Patrick. Always have.” You smile, eyes slightly unfocused. “In a more than friends way.” He can smell the alcohol clinging to you, and he hates it.

He laughs, though the sound is laden with sorrow. “Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I really mean it.” You put your hand over his warm ones, and he doesn’t pull away.

He’s been waiting for this moment for the entire time you’ve known each other. He loves you so much it makes his heart ache. He knows the sound of your voice like his own, and he’s convinced your hands fit his like they were always meant to. Patrick fears that his head might explode until he realizes one sad little thing. It was too soon, too intoxicated, and too uncertain.

“Get some rest, girlie. I’ll find you in the morning.” He stands up, eyes burning. He needs a smoke, a drink, and a place to let himself feel the self-pity coursing through his veins. This means nothing, he tells himself. You make a pitiful sound, trying to follow him, but he can walk faster than you can stumble.

You’re so drunk you probably don’t even know what you’re saying to him. He can’t accept it, and he can’t reciprocate. If he did, he would be the biggest douche in the world. The kind of douche that preys on his drunk friend the minute they say something they would never mean while sober.

You grip onto his t-shirt, but he gently pries your hands off. You’re near tears now, and you wish he would just stay. Why can’t he, you wonder. You love him. You love him so much, so intensely it puts poetry to shame. You love his cologne, the way he speaks, his humor. You know him so well you could find him in any life, and your hands do fit his like gloves, and he can’t just leave you like this.

But he won’t let your drunk words ruin what you have. It’s too precious to be tossed out after one little slip-up. He’s not one to scare easily, but this moment is more terrifying that anything he has ever had to do in his entire life.

He needs to leave, and he needs to pray that he can get over this.

As he closes your bedroom door, separating you from the only boy you’ve ever truly loved, he mutters, “I hope you don’t remember this tomorrow.”

#solar eclipse.#patrick verona x reader #patrick verona #10 things i hate about you #10tihay #x reader #patrick verona imagines #heath ledger #fanfic #fanfiction

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lovable-liar · 6 months

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I love love love the idea of hasan dating someone actually famous, like him being pushed into the limelight and people being like damn who is this whole ass brick wall following her around.

And him on a red carpets…yum.

ALSO imagine him reacting to songs written about him, from cute love songs to seggsy songs. Also there's no way in hell its not being brought up in fear&. The way QT love Taylor Swift I like the idea of Hasan dating like…austins TS.

anyway I just have this thing where I lien the idea of him dating someone's more successful than him

Totally not bc i have this weird thing where I have feel like more successful then my partner bc I have issues lol…

The world had long been acquainted with Hasan as a charismatic and intelligent political commentator, a witty comedian, and a captivating streamer. Yet, dating a famous singer elevated his public profile to an entirely new echelon of notoriety and intrigue.

Their relationship had catapulted Hasan into the spotlight in ways he could never have foreseen. No longer just the familiar face behind a computer screen, he had stepped into the dazzling world of red carpets, where flashing cameras and star-studded celebrity events became his new reality.

As Hasan walked hand in hand with his partner down the red carpet, a surge of emotions swirled within him. The anticipation of the evening's event, the surreal atmosphere of the star-studded affair, and the magnetic energy of the crowd blended together to create a heady mixture of excitement and awe.

The curious whispers of the crowd surrounded them, a symphony of voices that ranged from hushed admiration to eager excitement. All around, people craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the enigmatic couple, while journalists and reporters vied for the best angle to capture their presence.

Amid the whirlwind of the red carpet, the flashes of paparazzi cameras erupted like a dazzling meteor shower, illuminating the couple as they made their way through the meticulously designed backdrop of glitz and glamour. The blinding flashes, akin to a storm of stars, painted the scene with a surreal, otherworldly glow.

And yet, amidst the spectacle, Hasan couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a profound sense of pride. Standing there, the partner of an incredibly talented and successful singer, he was a testament to their journey, their connection, and the unique path their love had carved through the entertainment industry.

The cacophony of the red carpet, the curious onlookers, and the brilliant flashes of the cameras all seemed to blur into the background, eclipsed by the warmth and exhilaration Hasan felt as he continued to walk beside his beloved partner, hand in hand, on a journey that was nothing short of extraordinary.

The onlookers, accustomed to the glamorous world of entertainment, couldn't help but be caught off guard when they spotted Hasan, now firmly established as the partner of the incredibly talented and successful singer. The revelation that there was more to Hasan than just his online persona left them intrigued and mildly bewildered.

Intrigued murmurs rippled through the crowd as they tried to reconcile the familiar online personality they knew with the real-life figure beside the renowned singer. Hasan's transition from the virtual realm to the tangible world of celebrities was a source of fascination, and it was evident that people were eager to learn more about this man who had taken a leap into a whole new stratum of fame.

As Hasan and his partner made their way through the glitzy event, the world was beginning to understand that Hasanabi was not merely an online sensation but a multi-dimensional individual who had embarked on a journey that would forever alter the way he was perceived, leaving a lasting mark on both the world of entertainment and the hearts of those who watched his every step.

But the impact of their relationship didn't end with the public's fascination and recognition. It extended to the world of music. Love songs, meticulously crafted and emotionally charged, began to emerge, each one a melodic tribute to Hasanabi and the unique connection he shared with the famous singer.

These songs beautifully captured the essence of their relationship in sweet, soulful melodies that tugged at the heartstrings of listeners. Lyrics painted a vivid and evocative picture of their love story, offering a glimpse into the moments that defined their journey together.

From the first serendipitous meeting that ignited the spark of their connection to the tender, intimate moments they shared behind closed doors, these songs became a musical testament to their love. They celebrated the laughter, the joy, the challenges, and the unbreakable bond that bound Hasan and the celebrated singer together.

The power of music allowed their love story to transcend the confines of privacy and become a source of inspiration and adoration for countless fans. These songs became anthems of their love, forever etching the mark of their relationship on the world's collective heart.

However, it wasn't all sweetness and innocence. Some of the songs took a more daring and suggestive turn, teasingly referencing the intimate and private moments shared between Hasan and the famous singer. The lyrics were playful, carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of passion and desire.

Hasan couldn't help but feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment when he heard those songs, even though he did his best to maintain a facade of nonchalance. The sly glances and knowing smiles from friends and colleagues only added to his discomfort, making it impossible to escape the playful teasing that came with the territory of dating someone so well-known.

Despite his efforts to appear unfazed, Hasan couldn't help but secretly relish the thought that their relationship had inspired music that ranged from sweet and romantic to sultry and seductive, marking their love as a multi-faceted journey that encompassed both the tender and passionate moments they shared.

In the ever-present world of Fear& and during Hasan's streams, their high-profile relationship inevitably became a focal point of discussion. As viewers and fans watched Hasan navigate this newfound chapter of his life, they couldn't resist delving into the intricacies of his romantic journey.

Hasan, always quick-witted and sharp, artfully incorporated humor into his discussions, effortlessly deflecting invasive questions and steering the conversation with a light touch. He lightheartedly acknowledged the public's fascination with their relationship, all while maintaining a respectful boundary around the more intimate aspects of their life.

Hasan's playful and self-assured approach allowed him to navigate the curious inquiries with grace, leaving no room for speculation. With humor as his ally, he embraced the spotlight, weaving the enchanting tapestry of their love story into his content, engaging viewers while preserving the sanctity of their private moments.

QT, with her deep affinity for Taylor Swift and her love of romantic narratives, had a profound appreciation for the unique dynamic of Hasan's relationship. To her, it was as if life had orchestrated a compelling twist, thrusting Hasan into the spotlight and granting him a taste of fame in a way he had never anticipated or even imagined. This newfound perspective put a stop to his teasing of her whenever she passionately defended Taylor on the basis of the challenging life of being a celebrity, creating a newfound empathy and understanding between the two.

Dating someone more successful than him was a whirlwind experience, but Hasan found himself embracing it with open arms. It wasn't just about being known as a commentator and a comedian; it was about sharing the spotlight with someone he deeply cared about, and it was a journey he was more than willing to embark upon.

#hasanabi #hasan piker #hasanabi x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi fluff #hasan piker fluff #hasan x reader

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bomberqueen17 · 3 months

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switchplate covers update/tutorial

So the thing to keep in mind with this is that we gotta see how well the wear. A switchplate cover is a pretty high-traffic thing, and subject to a lot of wear. If these get too dingy I'm absolutely going to have to go buy fancy ceramic ones or something.

But. That said. Here is my final result, and below the cut is how I did this, partly because I want to remember how it worked LOL.

[Image description: A combo lightswitch/outlet with a black three-prong plug plugged into it, set into a white subway tile wall with a wooden breadboard leaned against it. The plate cover is painted with a mottled effect to look like a turquoise gemstone, complete with inset glitter to mimic the pyrite inclusions found in some raw turquoise.]

A better view of the glitter:

[Image description: Another turquoise-painted outlet faceplate on the background of a rumpled white dropcloth, my fingers visible tilting it toward the light so the flake glitter catches the light from the window.]

So I searched up for tutorials and found a few, each of which was like "can't believe nobody else has done this"; I'm sharing the most helpful one here. What was thee very most helpful thing, though, was the writer's pointing out that many different configurations of turquoise exist, so you can just pick a reference image and build off that. I did not in the end come very close to my reference, but decided instead to make it look sick as hell. LOL. I was just having too much fun doing whatever I wanted. So these are not super realistic! But then you wouldn't... make an outlet faceplate out of real turquoise, so I felt like I wasn't fooling anyone. Anyway--

How To Paint Faux Turquoise.

So the first thing I did was find some very fine-grit sandpaper (I think I got 320? I found a mostly used-up sheet of it in the basement and just used the unused edge from where it had been fastened around a block, LOL) and went over the whole front surface of each plate I was going to paint, and then I washed them with dishsoap and hot water and dried them with a dish towel, because I figured finger grease, hand dirt, and sanding dust would keep the paint from sticking. I started with white plastic ones, the kind you get for up to a dollar at the hardware store.

Then I got a plastic container lid, put dollops of various of my paint samples in it, dug out the craft paints I got cleaning out Auntie's basement and the sole tube of acrylics (Mars black) I could still find from the last time I did any painting, and went to town. The first couple, I did the pale shades and let them dry and came back to add the darker marbling. But then I was like, these are latex/acrylic, you don't have to build them in layers? So I just did the rest of them with all the shading in more or less one pass.

Acrylic art paint and latex housepaint are both water-based, so there's no conflict with using them intermingled. I've combined them before, I used to do a lot of sign painting and it works fine. Housepaint's runnier, idk. Don't mix oils and latex, is the thing to keep in mind; they just don't stick to each other real well.

I went to the art supply store to get some water-based varnish, because all i had was polyurethane and that's oil-based. It'd probably work as a topcoat but I was worried and the internet's advice conflicted. I wanted to go get better glitter anyway, so I did. I happen to live near Hyatt's All Things Creative, so I take every excuse I can get to go there.

I bought some sick-ass glitter (over in the resin pouring section, hell yes), and puzzled thru the various offerings. (@sassaffrassa's advice proved invaluable on this thank u.) I got just-- "Gloss varnish acrylic medium", the Hyatt's brand, for four dollars and sixty-nine (nice) cents, and then because I was feeling spendy, I also bought Krylon spray-on glossy varnish. Belt and suspenders, y'know? Also to make the brush strokes less obvious.

The critical thing, though, about the gloss varnish, is that it says right on the bottle that you can either incorporate it into the paint as a medium to enhance the sheen, OR brush it over the finished work as a protective coating. Dries absolutely clear. So I knew, THIS is how I'm attaching the glitter. I'd been thinking like, mod podge? elmer's glue? mix it into the paint? No.

[image description: the gloss varnish bottle. It is this product. The relevant text says "can be used either as a medium to enhance the sheen levels of acrylic paint or as an over-varnish on finished artwork to provide a non-tacky, protective gloss coating".]

So I carefully got open the little bottle of glitter (no sneezing! it was "white gold flake" style and cost eight bucks for like half a gram. to my knowledge it's not actually made of gold but it was priced like it was) and painted little fine patches of gloss varnish onto the spots I wanted glittered, and then used tweezers to apply glitter just in those spots, and mooshed them around with the little varnish-covered brush until they stuck where I wanted them. (I put them on the darkest bits of the veining, because that was what my source image looked like, mostly. I wanted to be really liberal but then I thought, no, a little pop of glitter is more exciting actually. Still not sure, but it does look good so. They say measure that shit with your heart but I went light because I figured I could add more later, and then I didn't.)

Then I came back at the end and painted more gloss varnish just over the glitter, just to make sure it was all really stuck down and wouldn't flake off with wear.

Let that dry for a couple hours, then used a larger brush to spread gloss varnish as evenly as possible over the entirety of each plate. It did leave visible brush strokes, which I didn't mind. The art shop guy suggested using a really soft brush to minimize that, and I was like "yah sure ok" but then, well, I didn't, I just used the brush I had.)

But then I let that dry overnight, and in the morning I put the plates all in my giant overspray cardboard box, and gave them each a liberal coating of the spray varnish. (Yes of course I have a giant cardboard box I keep in my basement to spray paint things in. I know it says use in a well-ventilated space but what I do, see, is I do that and then I leave the room, which is almost as good. LOL it's 24F and snowing I'm not doing it outside.)

That bottle says two hours until handling on it, so I left it two hours, and then I put up the plates that were in spots where the painting was done or wasn't happening, hence my example image being against a tiled wall.

The screwdriver immediately scratched the first one a little bit, but not super obviously. But I kind of would expect a screwdriver to scratch just about anything, so that doesn't mean much.

I won't guarantee how well these'll hold up but if you were interested in doing something like that, there's how it worked. (Hi, future me, you're welcome for writing it down lol.)

I'm sort of sorry for no more process pictures but honestly most of it was following whimsy and doing what I felt like and kind of drawing on what I hadn't realized was a lot lot lot of hours of past paint-handling in my life, so pictures wouldn't help anyone else recreate this. But it did remind me that I love to paint and should do that more. So, I'll try, I guess.

#about the author #kitchen remodel #crafting sorta

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