#whatever . you call it when i bust down your door for things

[zestials]

i'm fiddling with icons & procrastinating my unhappiness with them by playing video games --- but if you'd like to plot in ims & perhaps get a little starter from me afterwards , give this a ♡ & i'll come bother you in-between matches.

[rowarn]

bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!

i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO

part : two

when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.

it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.

you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.

strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.

this was a rotten way to live.

the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.

next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.

fuck. it had caused the power to bust.

now you were really scared.

you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.

you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.

you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.

"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"

there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?

you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.

pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.

the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.

you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.

then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.

whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.

but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?

oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.

around every turn.

you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.

you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.

after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.

to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.

the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.

it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.

you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.

you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.

"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.

you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.

one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.

"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"

its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.

"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.

you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."

it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.

"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.

"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.

you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.

"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.

"ghost," it responds quickly.

you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."

"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."

a lightbulb goes off over your head.

"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.

"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."

"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."

"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.

you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.

this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[elllisaaa]

imagine you're breastfeeding your baby and Sunghoon gets jealous and starts feeding on you too 🫦 Sunghoon with a mommy kink omg 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

i'm not really comfortable with writting about lactation, i'm sorry but mommy kink on the other hand...

SUNGHOON who has a MOMMY KINK means that he's literally obsessed with being good for you, with pleasing you and making you proud of him. you can ask him to do anything and he's gonna do it, even if it's humiliating, because as long as it makes you happy, he is too.

"hoonie ? where are you ?" - "in the bedroom, i'm folding some laundry." as soon as you cross the door, sunghoon turns to you and his jaw falls slack as he's met by the sight of your already almost naked figure in front of him. "put all of that away baby, i had a long day at work, i need you." and sunghoon doesn't need more than that to throw all the clothes to the floor. you giggle at his eagerness but you love it.

you push him by his shoulders to lay down on the bed, immediately getting on top of him. "you're gonna let me ride you hoonie ?" - "fuck, yes baby, use me." these are the words you want to hear. you reward him with a passionate kiss, shoving your tongue down his throat as your hands go south to unbuckle his belt and pull down his clothes enough to free his already hard cock. "you're always ready for me, baby. it's cute." you look at the way sunghoon's cheeks grow red immediately. he feels a little embarrassed at how easily you turn him on, but seeing how quickly you push your underwear to the side and sink down on his cock, maybe that's not a bad thing.

"fuck ! you're such a good boy, feeling so good inside of me hoonie." but sunghoon is already too far gone to answer, your pussy always sending him into overdrive. he's only able to moan out your name as you move on top of him. "come on, baby. you already forgot how to talk ? am i that good ?" - "y-yes, mommy… always perfect, love your pussy." a smile takes over your features at the nickname. you thrive for the moment he's calling you that, for the moment he's so gone that he doesn't even feel the shame his words bring him in a normal state.

"yeah ? you love when mommy's riding you ?" sunghoon nods as best as he can, trying not to bust his load already because he wants to be good for you, to please you. a string of whines and whimpers escapes his lips as you sink up and down on him. "i'm close… mommy, please." - "think you deserve to cum this soon, baby ?" tears gather in his eyes as he stares up at you, gaze filled with lust and desperation written all over his face. "please, please ! i've been so good for you, mommy…" he's so cute like that, you cannot resist him. "mmh, yeah, you've been such a good boy. go on, hoonie, cum inside of me."

the loud moan sunghoon lets out as he shoots his load is enough to make you even more wet, if that's even possible. but even as he drops down on the bed, spent and exhausted, you still move your hips, his cock still hard inside of you. "ah ! n-no more, please… 'm too sensitive !" you smirk as you pin his wrists down so that he cannot stop you from dropping down on him again, relishing in the way he's squirming around and crying out. "my sweet baby, you can give me one more, right ? you want to be good for me, right ?" sunghoon is quick to nod at you again, and maybe he should be embarrassed of the effect you have on him, but he feels too good to care. "i'm gonna be good mommy, it's all i want." you smile and kiss him again, ready to give him whatever he wanted when he called you that.

[theysherobinbuckley]

a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4

(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)

Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.

His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.

"Uh, what?"

"What are you doing hanging around Max?"

Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"

"So?"

"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"

"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."

"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"

Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.

"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."

Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.

"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"

Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.

"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."

Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.

"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."

Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.

"Did she?"

"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"

"No, I mean- did she have fun?"

Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"

Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.

"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.

Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.

"Unfortunately. What about him?"

"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."

"That's..."

"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."

"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."

"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."

Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.

Huh.

It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.

"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."

Harrington lit up at that.

"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."

"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."

"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.

Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.

Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?

"I see. Not into MILFs?"

Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.

"I'm more into brunettes."

And boy, didn't that seem pointed.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Might have re-watched Captain America: Winter Soldier again 🫣....and it's just something about the way he says "You're my misson." All I know is this gives off HUGE smutty vibes. I love your written so I just knew I had to ask you!

Ohh nonnie the way he growls it as well (panties soaked)

18+ MINORS DNI, DUB/NON CON THEMES AHEAD

His metal hand pressed against your throat, you should’ve passed out ages ago but he wasn’t squeezing enough to hurt. He was keeping you in place.

You don’t know how you ended up on Hydra’s watchlist. You were a regular person, a security expert who woke up at 6am every morning, showered and got ready for the long hours at the office.

Your boss had some new clientele. They were in the market for top-notch security and they’d chosen the company you worked for, and your boss had chosen you to be part of the team. You learned quickly that they were a very secretive group, you only ever met the messengers and even then they blanked every other word you spoke besides a polite hello.

It was one boring day, completely uneventful, the usual in your office. You were working on the can’t security side of the project when your screen went black, then a logo appeared—an octopus? Weird.

“Hey Jim come look at this” you notified your cubicle neighbour who peaked over the barrier. Just as he did mountains of files filtered onto your screen, many of them in Russian it looked like but one thing was for certain. You definitely shouldn’t have seen it.

That night after packing up and heading downstairs you noticed Jim still at the revolving doors.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked, he looked pale, if you were in an old house you were sure you would’ve mistook him for a ghost.

“T-the—“ he cleared his throat before his brown eyes bore into yours. They looked dead, it shook you to your core. “The logo, on your computer…I searched it up and…”

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you digested the content on his phone. Hydra. Your new clients were Hydra and you’d accidentally seen all their files.

—

You jumped from your dreamless sleep at the sound of your landline. Checking your clock lets you know it was well past midnight, who on earth would be calling at this time?

“H-hello?” You rasped, eyes shutting by the second.

The frantic voice spoke your name. It was Jim and by his tone, he was panicking.

“Jim? Jim, are you alright?” You pressed, holding the phone closer to your ear.

“T-they’re here, listen to me whatever you do, do not open your door. Find a weapon and hide…oh god…Do not op—“ BANG!!

You let out a shriek at the sound, Jim’s side turning eerily quiet. Then your door knocked.

Once.

Twice.

Your door was gone before it could be knocked for a third time. Kicked so hard it hit the opposite wall, you screamed, dropping the phone from your ear and falling to the ground like you were made of jelly.

Tears flowed freely down your face as the huge body stalked forth, his arm glistening under the dim light you kept on at all times. A mask sat upon his face obscuring his emotions from you but you were certain he was enjoying the torture he was putting you through.

His heavy boots stopped just in front of your knees, his metal hand grasped at your throat squeezing until your vision spotted, until you garbled pleas up at him. Only then did he pull you up, your toes pointing to reach the floor, you were trying desperately to relieve some of the pressure around your throat.

You should’ve died a long time ago, his brain screamed at him to fulfil his mission, put a bullet in your skull and be done. But the more he looked at you the more he wanted.

The spaghetti straps of your nightgown had slipped down off your shoulders, catching in the crooks of your elbows but not before giving him a delicious tease of your bust.

He wanted more.

He raised his flesh hand, hooking a long thick index finger into the material before ripping it from your body in one fell swoop. You yelled and struggled against his grasp but a harsh squeeze of your trachea had any fight dying quickly.

He let his knuckles trace the swell of your tits, pinching a nipple in between his fingers, smirking darkly under the mask as you squirmed.

You look cute all scared of him; wide-eyed and chest heaving, your tummy sucking in to get away from his hand as it trailed down to your cotton panties.

A dark chuckle escaped him as he felt along your gusset.

“You’re wet”

You shook your head, eyes darting anywhere but him, your thighs squeezing his hand and keeping it pressed firmly against your mound.

He ripped the panties from your body as well, running two fingers through your folds and bringing them up to your face. Absolutely soaked.

“Wet” he spoke matter-of-factly before pushing his hand back down there; fingers plucking your hard little clit effortlessly until you were crying out.

“W-why are you doing this” you moaned, head hitting off the wall with a bang as you sucked in air greedily.

“You’re my mission” he growled back, fingers stretching you out until your brain turned to mush.

He coaxed four orgasms out of you that night. His mask, thrown to the floor so he could kiss you sloppily before leaving.

He returned night after night, Hydra sending him to complete his task but he’d do the same again, play with you, eat you out until you were a writhing mess—all dumb and thinking of nothing but him.

You were his mission. For days, months, years. You were his.

—

I pulled this outta my ass but I hope it was up to your standard nonnie 🤭🤭

Also thank you so much, it’s nice to know some people enjoy reading the poo I write.

Likes, Reblogs and Asks are always appreciated ❤️❤️

[swordsandholly]

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You’re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

[cheezeybread]

Picture Floyd and Jade going to see Yuu for random Azul business reasons. But its Game night with Yuu, Deuce and Ace. the twins get invited to join in and totally forget about whatever Azul wanted.

game niiiight, heck yeah!

I love little scenes like this- don't get me wrong, I love big angsty stuff, but it's a little reminder that these guy are just teenagers, after all!

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

"Shriiiimpy~" Floyd cooed out, raising a fist to knock on the door again. In contrast to his attempt at a smooth voice, he rapped his knuckles on the door so hard that the old wood practically starting shaking!

"Easy, brother, unless you'd like your paycheck to go towards fixing up the door to this place," Jade remarked, reaching a hand out and rapping on the wood with his own knuckles, as if he were showing his twin how it should be done.

Floyd only stuck his tongue out at Jade, lifting up his fist to the door once more. They've knocked and called out several times already, so wasn't it their right to bust the door down? It was, right? That seemed like it would be the right thing to do. Besides, Azul got antsy whenever both of the eels were out and about on errands, not fully trusting them to get the job done exactly how he wanted. But it was just giving Shrimpy a message, so how hard could it be?

Wait, what were they here to tell them, again? Ah, Jade probably remembered.

Floyd rapped his knuckles on the door again, getting more annoyed with every knock. Certainly they weren't ignoring him, were they? The little Shrimpy wouldn't do such a thing, not to him!

"I'm getting real tired of this, Jade," he grumbled, eyes narrowing.

Sensing his brother's change in mood, Jade took a deep breath before reaching into his pocket and drawing out a ring of keys. Wordlessly, he flicked through each one before singling out an old, rusty key. He leaned down and stuck it in the keyhole, twisting the door unlocked, and opening it.

"Why didn't you try that ten minutes ago?" Floyd snapped, amused despite his attitude.

"I thought it to be rather rude to barge into YN's place without knocking first and giving them a chance to invite us in," Jade replied, giving a coy smile "Besides, it wouldn't do for them to know we have a key to Ramshackle, now, would it?"

"Ahhhh, Jade, you evil genius!" Floyd laughed loudly, slapping his brother on the back.

As soon as they stepped into the building, faint sounds of screams and laughter could be heard few rooms over. Jade nodded to the sound, silently telling his brother to start heading over that way. The two had nothing to fear, of course, from anybody who may be in the building, but it wouldn't do to have their guard down at any point in time.

Following the noise, the two found themselves peering into a doorway- the doorway to the Ramshackle guest room, to be more precise. It looked cleaner than the last time the twins had seen it- which was way back when Azul took Ramshackle as collateral for YN's contract. Now the room was emptied of its trash, was dusted and scrubbed clean, and even had some decent-looking furniture in it.

And lounging around the room, gathered around a table, was YN, Ace, and Deuce.

"No, no, no, you cheater, that's against the rules!" Ace cried out, looking on the verge of tears as he slammed a fist into the table

"Is not!" Deuce cackled, sticking his tongue out.

"Boys, chill out-" YN started, snapping a finger to get their attention. Despite sounding annoyed, it was clear that YN was enjoying themselves, as well "Grim's sleeping in the next room! And don't break my table slamming onto it!"

"Slamming?" Ace tried very hard to contain his laughter, putting a hand over his mouth "That'swhatme'n'yourmomdidlastnight-"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY MOTHER?????" Deuce yelled, standing up in a fighting position.

"Chill, dude, chill, I was talking about YN's mom!"

"My mother's in a different universe." YN deadpanned.

"...oh." Ace went into an awkward silence after that.

And then there was a screech of absolute terror from behind the Eels, and in unison, they flicked their heads around to see what had caused such a racket. On the ground was a terrified Grim. He was holding a blanket around his shoulders, and clutched it as if he were worried it would be stolen. He stared up at the two brothers with wide eyes, any sleep gone.

"YNNNNNN!" He cried, darting in between their feet and launching himself at the prefect, burying himself in their arms.

"Oh, Jade, Floyd!" YN seemed unperturbed at the sudden appearance of the two as she stroked Grim's back in comfort, despite the terror in Ace and Deuce's face "What are you two doing here?"

"And where did they come from?" Deuce whispered. "How did they get in...?"

Ignoring Deuce's valid questions, Jade bowed his head slightly towards YN in greeting "We have a message for you from-"

"WHAT are you guys doing?" Floyd interrupted, unable to contain his excitement at the situation. He burst into the room and flopped down on the floor, his legs crossed. He looked over the board game spread out on the table and grinned "Don't tell me you're a nerd like Azul, Shrimpy! Board games?"

"Board games!" YN agreed, laughing.

"We- we're playing Monopoly right now," Deuce offered, trying to regain his composure as he adjusted his sitting position on the couch.

"And then we were going to play charades, maybe even a game of hide and seek, too!" YN grinned "Ace and Deuce got permission from Riddle to spend the night here tonight-"

"Yeah, after busting our chops doing homework and study sessions...and cleaning...and lawnwork," groaned Ace.

"You should join us!" YN said eagerly, clapping their hands together.

"Join you?" Jade questioned, stepping into the room with a small smile.

"Yeah, you guys are my friends, too! Come on, it'll be fun, right, guys?" YN looked to the group for their approval. Grim refused to look at the eels, looking like a pouting child. Ace glanced towards Floyd from the corner of his eye, scooting away casually. Deuce thought about it and shrugged.

"Well, I mean, playing charades and hide and seek would be more fun with more people," he conceded "Ace?"

"I mean- yeah, sure, I guess," he shrugged, "As long as neither of you try to take a bite out of me, okay?"

Biting at the air in front of Ace hard enough to make his teeth clack together loudly, Floyd grinned "I'll try!"

"I suppose I shall, as well," Jade chuckled, taking a seat next to YN and folding his hands in his lap, Azul's task long forgotten "So, how do we play?"

-----

Azul drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently, glancing at the clock every few seconds. It was well after midnight.

He had sent the twins on a task that should have taken no longer than twenty minutes, and they had been gone for three hours. Grumbling under his breath about how hard it was to find good help these days, Azul reached for his phone and called Jade's number.

It kept ringing....no one picked it up.

He called it two more times, with no luck.

He then tried Floyd's, but the call ended almost immediately. The bastard pressed the decline button! Two more tries to Jade's number, to no avail.

On the off-chance (which was probably not an off-chance at this point) that the two were still at Ramshackle, Azul dialed up YN's number.

"hello?" they answered almost immediately, their voice in a hushed whisper.

"Ah, yes, Prefect, I'm calling to see if you know the whereabouts of my workers," He said without missing a beat, standing up from his chair and making his way over to one of the sofas to sit.

"Shhh, they might hear you over the phone!" YN hissed. There were muffled sounds of movement, and when they spoke again, their voice was a little louder "What were you asking again?"

"Floyd and Jade," Azul said firmly, pressing his fingers up against the bridge of his nose. He was starting to lose his patience.

"Ohhhh, yeah, about that-" The prefect's voice was cut off by a loud thud, and they screamed.

"FOUND YOU SHRIMPY!" Azul could hear a familiar voice over the phone.

"Floyd? Floyd!" He barked into the phone, hoping the eel could hear him "Come back right now, do you hear me!"

But apparently he could not, since Azul could only hear Floyd and YN laughing heartily over something. Then there were more hushed whispers, and Floyd giggled like a fool before his voice was heard clearly

"Oh- oh yeah, hey Azul-" he said, barely containing his laughter "Can me and Jade stay the night here?"

"No, Floyd, the two of you have to open the lounge tomorrow, it's Saturday, that's one of our busiest-"

"Thanks, boss-man, see you later!"

Click.

Azul threw his phone to the ground in frustration, slamming his head down into the nearest pillow, and let out a very muffled scream.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

[unholyhelbig]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader with "Who did this to you?"

Title: Hallway Meetings

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2077

Warnings: Injuries, blood, bruising, mugging, Bad Grammar

[A/n: I haven't written Nat in awhile, so here is some hurt comfort!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

By the time you made it back to your apartment, the adrenaline had sufficiently worn off. The rush of energy that kept the pain at bay was the only thing that made it possible for you to sit through the bus ride across the city, the lights were much too bright and blue, your head pounding. You pressed your fingers against your ribs on the ride home, each exhalation trembling.

Somewhere along the way, the bus came rolling to a stop and the man behind the wheel huffed out at you. “End of the line.”

You were the only one on the bus, and by that time, you were fighting sleep entirely. There was no one else on the bus, and you didn’t see the point in arguing with him. His eyes were tired and dark. Something told you he was having a worse day than you were.

With begrudging compliance, you walked the three blocks to your building. You had forgotten your coat, and by the time you made it to the entrance, there was a numbness to the fingers that you refused to realize until you typed your code in and felt what real warmth was for only a moment.

The lobby smelled damp, as it always did despite the dry winter that the city was experiencing. Sickly yellow lights changed the tile on the floor from beige to green, and you lamented the fact that the elevator that had been busted since your move-in date was still in the same condition.

Any other day, it wouldn’t’ bother you. But you let out an involuntary groan at the sight before making your way up the first flight of stairs, your fingers still pushed against the aching of your mid-section. You were certain that they were broken, or at the very least, bruised. It pained you to take a deep breath.

Two more flights of stairs and the excitement of the night had worn away entirely. Your whole body pulsed with pain, with fatigue and regret for not listening to your mother the million times she told you to be careful on your way home, to keep an eye on your surroundings.

It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s other people. Her words echoed listlessly in your mind as you searched your pockets for your keys. The group of men who had jumped you must have snagged them too, or they were lost in the shuffle of things. Either way, you were locked out, and the damn was about to break.

“Come on,” You whispered, pressing your aching head against the cool wood of the door. You suppose you should be thinking whatever higher power was up there for letting you escape with your life, just not your cell phone. But right now, it all felt like a cruel joke.

You weren’t sure how long you lingered there, but it was long enough to slide down to the carpeted hallway and lean your head against the wall. It was much too late to call your landlord, even if you could. You were suddenly content to sleep the night off in the corridor. Concussion or not, unconsciousness called to you.

At some point, you’d drifted off to the buzzing sound of the overhead lights. When your neighbor approached, you didn’t’ make any attempt to unfold yourself at the sound of her soft footsteps. She had always been so courteous when she was home, making as little noise as possible, even when she arrived well into the night. This was no different.

She put her hand on your shoulder softly, it was a stark difference from the cold of the hallway, and you startled all the same, inhaling deeply and with enough haste to make you wince, a soft “ow,” escaping your lips.

Natasha was knelt down in front of you, an undeniable look of worry on her face. The two of you had been neighbors for over a year now, and you would be the last to admit that you wanted to get to know her better. She was quite elusive, and always kind. She was a mystery to you, and that made you all the more curious.

The two of you operated on the same schedule when she was home. You often ended up walking down to the mailboxes together, sharing in small talk. She was guarded at first, but the first time you had gotten her to open up, to laugh at a joke you couldn’t even recall, you knew that you wanted to hear that sound more than once.

Natasha would help you up the stairs with your groceries, despite your protests. You would help her learn how to cook something other than boxed mac and cheese. The two of you had shared a six-pack of beer during the buildings holiday block party on the roof, despite the cold. That night, Natasha had taught you how to peg a stop sign with a snowball, her aim impeccable.

The moments were few and far between, but they meant something to you both. You hadn’t seen her for about a month at this point and figured that she was traveling. There was no mention of what she did for work, and she seemed content not to tell you, just as you were content to let her do so in her own time. 

There was a suitcase next to her door, something you had never seen her with before. She was dressed in sweats, looking casual from a long day of travel. Her auburn hair was up in a loose bun, strands falling and framing her face. You couldn’t help but think that she was stunning.

Your face must have looked pretty banged up, because you could audibly hear her breath lodge in her throat. You hadn’t bothered calling the police, nor did you see much benefit in lingering in the spot that you’d been attacked. The only thought on your mind was getting back here, certainly not with the intention of seeing Natasha.

“Y/n,” her voice was gravelly. There was a coolness to her fingers that you wanted to lean into as she lifted your chin to get a better look at the pulsing feeling around your eye. You winced as her thumb moved against your busted lip, smearing away a streak of blood. “Who did this to you?”

Her voice was hard, almost with an edge of a threat on her tongue. You’d never heard her sound this way before. She was always soft, if not quiet in her calculations. Now, you saw worry and anger etched onto her beautiful features.

“Just some guys,” you said in an exhalation. “It’s not a big deal I got locked out.” 

The attempt to diffuse her worry was going poorly. Natasha frowned at you and released your chin. You struggled to voice your protests as Natasha eased her arm tightly around your center, pulling you to your feet. You saw stars, not quite sure if it was from her sudden closeness, or the exhaustive injuries.

Natasha was strong. She held you with little effort, even as you threatened to slump back down into your previous position. She unlocked her door, and you were welcomed with a warm darkness until she flicked on the light by the door.

Her home was modest, and understated. It overlooked a beautiful part of the city, the walls lined with novels that you’d otherwise be interested in. There were undertones of vanilla and tobacco, the same scent Natasha carried like a sword, your nose pressed against the small of her neck as she led you to the sofa and deposited you there.

Natasha vanished down the hallway. If her apartment mirrored yours, she would move towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. You nudged yourself up taller on the sofa, trying not to let your blood wick into its fabric. When She returned, she sheepishly shook a first-aide kit.

She set out her supplies and you groaned when you saw the bottle of iodine and cotton pads. She had done this before. Natasha worked with ease, she unscrewed the cap on the bottle before flipping it onto the pad, a sick brown liquid sopped into the surface. You could smell it from here, nose crinkling in response.

“Stop squirming, this will help.”

You highly doubted that, but all the same, let her work at the cut that was slit across your eyebrow. She dabbed the antiseptic and you refused to pull away. You knew that you would never try to get out of Natasha’s grasp. Her hand was warm and guiding. The sting eventually eased.

She asked, “Do you remember where you were when this happened?”

“Whoever they are, they’re long gone.”

You drew in a sharp breath when she nudged your ribs by accident. A discontent frown fell across her features. It wasn’t the same look of heated anger that dawned on her in the hallway. Instead, this was one of pure concern.

“We should really wrap that, you know? There’s no cure for broken ribs, but we can ease your suffering a bit with some plastic wrap.”

Before you could answer she put the iodine on the table and walked towards her kitchen. You watched her carefully. Each movement was calculated. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I’ve been put into some unsavory positions.” Natasha returned with a meager roll of cellophane. She stood, a pink color on her cheeks. “You’re going to have to take off your shirt.”

Now you were sputtering, mumbling a few things under your breath. The thrumming of your mid-section was enough for you to agree, even though your own cheeks heated up at the thought. She had a bit of a quirk to her lip, both eyebrows raised in amusement.

You got stuck halfway through, a twinge of pain shooting through your core. You must have winced, or Natasha could read the pain in your eyes because she mercifully helped you the rest of the way out. When she was done, the two of you were incredibly close, her breath warm on your skin, goosebumps coating every inch of your body.

A budding bruise stretched across your ribs, marring the tender flesh there. Natasha exhaled deeply, you felt the action everywhere. Her fingers moved across the deep smudges of brown and black and purple. Your mouth was suddenly dry as her forehead leaned against yours. She was quieter than usual.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” Natasha was knelt in front of you again, glowering as her soft touch soothed your aching. “I’ve spent my entire life making up for mistakes that I’ve made. Trying to stop the big bads of the world when… when horrible things happen everywhere, and the truth is, I can’t stop everything.”

“You don’t need to shoulder that responsibility, Natasha.” You mindlessly cupped her cheek and she sighed into the touch, her eyes closing for a moment of gratitude. “That’s not your job.”

“It is,” She swallowed hard “it is. And it pains me that you’re hurting like this. That I couldn’t protect you. All I’ve wanted to do since the moment I’ve met you is protect you from me, and seeing you like this, God, it shouldn’t’ have happened.”

She was crying, and you thumbed them away as she had done with your blood a few moments earlier. If there was any hesitancy in her emotion, it washed away with the simple gesture. Her nose brushed against yours, cold from the journey home.

Nat smelled of melted snow and you remembered the night on the rooftop. The way your elbows brushed together as you watched the lights over the city. You almost closed the distance then and there, but she’d pulled away, and you awkwardly downed another frothy beer before she threw a second snowball, nailing the stop sign where you had fallen short.

Now, it was her that leaned in. There was a slight nip of pain where your lip had split, but it eased slowly into pleasure. She tasted like hazelnut coffee from the airport, of an edge of mind. Your fingers traced her jaw. She sighed into the kiss, the most fragile sound in the world.

You broke the embrace regrettably, sucking air through your teeth “oh, ouch.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry” she chuckled softly, nudging her forehead with her own, touch dancing over your midsection. “We really should get you patched up.”

[fairyhaos]

◈ adorable and insufferable // joshua hong

joshua x gn!reader, 1.5k+ words

tags: sick fic, fluff, crack, established relationship, joshua makes small snuffly bunny noises when he's sick

warnings: food mention at the end

notes: for his birthday present, i give him a cold. as you can see, i love him very much.

Your boyfriend is sick.

He is, also, an absolutely terrible liar.

That leads you to the situation right now, where you’ve cornered Joshua in the kitchen, hands on your hips, a bunny spa headband pushing your hair back, and it’s not the most intimidating sight but Joshua gulps all the same, eyes darting around the kitchen nervously.

He’s looking for an escape route. You can see it in his eyes, clear as day, so you step even closer, voice dangerously calm as you speak.

“No, keep your eyes on me,” you say, face set into an angry frown. “Shua.”

Joshua looks at you, and tries not to breathe too weirdly. “Um. Y/N?”

You look him up and down, and then slowly fold your arms. “Shua,” you say again. “Are you sick?”

He blinks rapidly, and then has to stop, because it makes his head feel all woozy. “No?” he tries, and then coughs a little. He’ll claim it was out of nervousness, because you look kind of terrifying right now, but your eyes immediately widen at the sound, and he knows he’s busted.

“You are!” Instantly, you lunge for him as he tries to dive past you and escape this interrogation. “Joshua, come back! You’re sick!”

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear I’m not,” he insists, trying to pull away from the iron grip you’ve clasped around his wrist. Resistance is futile, though. You’re not letting him go, now that him and his wellbeing are involved. “Y/N, baby, please, I’m totally fine.”

“No you’re not,” you say firmly, and then begin dragging your whining boyfriend out the kitchen and towards the stairs. 

“I—” He sneezes, then, a loud and wet sneeze that scrapes at his throat and makes his eyes water, and he pauses, shocked. He sniffles, rubbing his nose. “Okay. Maybe I am.”

You shake your head, partly exasperated, partly fond, and continue pulling Joshua up the stairs.

He’s been shuffling around the house looking mildly ill all day, and you’ve been waiting for the right moment to pounce on him and get him up to bed. Because Joshua, when he gets sick, utterly refuses to give in and accept that he’s coming down with something, always waiting until the last moment to finally admit defeat to whatever illness has plagued him this time.

By the time you’re opening the bedroom door and ushering Joshua inside, he’s looking considerably worse than before, face all flushed and eyes watering from the sudden coughing fit he had while coming up the stairs.

“Come on, baby,” you coax, tucking him into bed. You press a hand to his forehead, a little alarmed and a little amused by how quickly he managed to look severely ill during the short walk upstairs. “Sleep.”

“I can still function, you know,” he insists as you pull the covers over him. “I can—I can do things.”

“I’d rather you not,” you say, smoothing down his hair and tucking away a few stray strands. You shake your head in faux disappointment. “I knew you’d get sick from all those days where you went out wearing all those thin layers in winter. What were you thinking?”

Joshua huffs petulantly. “It’s called fashion.”

“It’s called making yourself sick,” you return, and then chuckle at his pout. Leaning down, you press a quick kiss to his forehead, brushing a finger over his cheek fondly. “Now sleep. You’re going to feel way worse tomorrow if you don’t.”

He grumbles, but there’s a small smile on his face as he bids you goodbye and asks you to shut the door properly on the way out.

───────────── 💗

Your boyfriend is very, very self-sufficient. He tries not to bother other people with his struggles and his concerns, but he’s also very terrible at hiding it away when someone asks him directly if everything’s okay.

He’s also really weak in the face of attention.

Which means that while he’s very self-sufficient, the moment you notice he’s unwell and call him out on it, he melts instantly and gets taken over by his sickness so quickly that it surprises you every time.

Slowly, you creak open the bedroom door, peering inside to see Joshua staring blankly up at the ceiling. His head snaps towards you as you walk across the room, but his eyes are all glassy.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, and all he’s said is your name but it’s like he’s speaking through a ball of cotton. 

“Yes, it’s me,” you say, smiling a little, because his eyes positively shine when you confirm it. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you place a damp towel over his forehead, feeling his cheek with the back of your hand, and wince a little at how warm he is. “Goodness me, Shua, you’re burning up.”

“No, I’m not,” he murmurs. “You’re burning up.”

You smile a little, pinching his cheek lightly. “If you were this sick, then why didn’t you say anything, hm? You should’ve told me earlier.”

“I’m not that sick. I can still do stuff,” he says, eyes falling shut just slightly as you begin stroking his hair, a relaxing movement. “Hey, hey, Y/N, watch this.”

“Hm?” You stop stroking his hair, sitting back and waiting patiently. 

There’s a long silence, and then Joshua cracks an eye open to look at you. He looks expectant—well, as expectant as a person with an extremely high fever can look—but when you don’t say anything, a small frown creases his brow.

“Didn’t you see it?”

“See what, baby?”

“The cartwheels. I did cartwheels.”

The statement is so absurd that you think he’s joking, but his face is set into such a serious pout that you can’t help but laugh a little, because there's something about fever-drowsed Joshua that is so adorable.

“You didn’t do any cartwheels, baby,” you say gently, and go back to stroking his hair. “You didn’t even get up.”

Joshua frowns, the pout deepening. “Oh.” His eyes close, and then open again. “I did them in my head, though. I’m sure I did.”

Cute, you think helplessly, unable to stop the smile spreading across the face. “Okay.” You kiss his nose. “I believe you. But I’m gonna go get you something to drink and eat, and then you’re gonna take some meds, okay?”

He makes a small noise of discontent when you get up, and then coughs, giving a pathetic sniffle like a sad little bunny, and you almost want to just stay next to him and never leave his side.

“You’re gonna need to take the meds to get better faster,” you say at the door. “I’ll be back soon, promise. Wait here.”

Joshua makes that sad noise again, but he watches you go. “Okay,” he says, all mumbly. “I promise not to cartwheel away.”

You laugh a little, because good lord, he’s so adorable. “Okay. I’m trusting you, alright?”

“Mhm.”

You close the door and walk down the stairs, shaking your head fondly.

───────────── 💗

It’s only several days later that his fever finally lets up, and he’s well enough to walk around the house once more. You wake up to Joshua in the kitchen, a blanket around his frame, making pancakes.

“Baby?” you ask, rubbing your eyes and yawning. “What are you doing?”

Joshua turns to you, and then grins, eyes crinkling fondly. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says, and deposits the last pancake onto a plate. “I’m making you breakfast, of course. Here. Eat up. Want some french toast too?”

“Wh—huh?” you say, incredibly intelligently, slowly sliding into the seat that, like the gentleman he is, Joshua had pulled out for you. “Why?”

“It’s a thank-you present, obviously,” Joshua says, as he busies himself making french toast. As if the pancakes and spread of fresh fruit and waffles (he cooked waffles too?) aren’t enough. “I’ve been insufferable over the past few days.”

You chuckle a little, thinking of Joshua insisting he can do cartwheels while you try to spoon feed him soup. “Yeah, you have. But I didn’t mind. You’re my boyfriend. Of course I’m gonna put up with you.”

Joshua laughs. “Thank you, Y/N. What would I do without you?”

“You’d be dead without me,” you say, incredibly seriously, and it makes Joshua laugh again. His eyes are still a little puffed up, but he beams at you, all full of life, and it makes you grin too.

“You’re totally right,” he says, and leans over to peck you on the cheek. “I love you.”

You smile, taking hold of his chin and bringing him down to press a longer kiss to his lips. “I love you more.”

Joshua quirks a grin at that, kissing your forehead for good measure before going back to the bread. “Let’s not start that argument again. Eat your pancakes, sweetheart, before they get cold.”

You look over at him as he busies himself making yet more food, and it makes you a little dizzy, really, just how much Joshua loves you. And how much you love him in return. Even when he’s doing cartwheels in his head and insisting he’s doing them in real life.

“Hey, now you’re all better, you can do those cartwheels you kept wanting to do.”

“Really? Should I?”

“Yeah! I bet I can do them better though.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

[baby-tini]

Can we PLEASE talk about fucked up foreplay? All I can think about is PM Dazai curbstomping some poor dude who betrayed the mafia (it's standard protocol after all, jaw breaking+three shots to the chest) and it's for your enjoyment, just because you asked if you could watch because you're both equally fucked up and it's like, a whole thing, he drags the torture out, humiliating the man ,spits on him, asks you to spit on him as well, makes him kiss his boot or the gun he's gonna shoot him with, just—fuuuuuuccckk

TW- Murder, Detailed Torture, Violence, Blood, Gore

YES WE ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! I NEED MORE THIRST LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX IMMEDIATELY!!! Thxs!!! (I may have went overboard...)

The both of you were at Lupin when Dazai was made aware of the situation, stepping away too take the call as you tipsily conversed with the bartender, the little giggles bubbling from your throat as you spewed whatever came to your mind. He wasn't gone for long though, only a couple minutes before you felt him leaning over your shoulder from behind, his lips inches from your ear as he told you that the both of you had too go. He was quiet as he led you out of the bar, leading you by the waist into a sleek black car, giving the man upfront directions as he closed the door. He was unbothered as you messily climbed into his lap, your head foggy from the liquor as his hands moved to your waist too help you coordinate better before you sloppily made out with him, you always found Dazai too be extraordinarily attractive, but even more so when he was pissed, plus mixing the smell of his cologne into it, it just gave you a whole new experience of a high. There wasn't much reciprocation on his end as his hands sit on your hips, he just allowed you too do as you pleased. The drive felt quicker then you originally thought, as the car stopped and Dazai reached for the door handle as Dazai told the driver, "watch her." You had tugged on his coat when he said that, crawling closer to him as you whined, pleading to him with a, "wanna watch 'samu..."

He stared for a moment before his hand reached out and grabbed your arm and pulled you out, stumbling into his chest as he shut the door behind him. It was a dark alley that he led you down into, a man bloody and bruised laid on the floor, he was covered in dirt and soot, his once white shirt now soaked through with crimson and mud as his face bled, ruby droplets leaking down his chin as they fall to the floor in a constant flow. His uncovered eye was empty as he stepped closer to the man, slow and calculated, like a predator as his men that were guarding the traitor stepped away as Dazai shooed them away, you following close behind him. Dazai stood in front of the cowered man, his whole body shaking as Dazai stared down at him, before he dragged the man to the stairs a few feet away, the man began pleading for his life, making promises he knew he'd betray in the future as he was thrown face-first into the hard concreate of the stair case, his nose busting on impact as his mouth fell open and he let out a muffled cry.

"Because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, I had too be called away too come deal with you." Dazai snarled as his foot harshly came down on the back of the mans head, the sound of the mans teeth shattering made a loud cracking echo as the mans mouth instantly started too leak blood and the chipped pieces of his teeth fell out of his mouth. The man was left panting and before he could move, Dazai kicked him in his stomach, causing him too groan and roll onto his back. He gestured you over, letting his hand settle on the arch of your back as he scowled at the man. "Apologize to her, and maybe I'll think about ending you quickly." The apologies that spewed from the mans bloody mouth were instantaneous as he looked up and pleaded to you, only too have Dazais foot come down, crushing his femur in the process. It was a loud ugly wail that left that mans lips, so loud that you thought his vocal cords would bleed. The man quickly shut up when Dazai pulled out a Colt M1911A1, pointing it at the mans chest, you saw the deep fear in that manns eyes before he quickly squeezed them shut and tried too quiet his sobs. Dazai felt a pawing at his chest before he looked over at you, your pupils blown as you tugged at his belt, he hummed at you before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss before he slipped his tongue in your mouth, only pulling away when he felt the man moving under his foot, that was still dug into the man femur.

"You're so fucked up sweetheart... getting wet from watching me break a mans jaw, hm?" Before you could even attempt too deny his claims, you felt one of his hands slip into your panties, rubbing you through them as you quietly gasped, clinging to him. He looked over at the man, his fingers now rubbing your clit as he took in the sight of the mans wide-eyed expression. His hand, that was still gripping the gun, playfully moved around, taunting the man as he waved the gun in his face. The moment he pulled his hand out of your panties, you tugged at his hand, trying too drag it back. Placing a quick slap on your ass, he walked over to the man, placing his foot on his chest. "Thank me." Dazai stated, the man immediately spewed his praise, thanking Dazai for his mercy and that he was sorry that Dazai even had too come out, his voice coming out gargled as Dazais foot pushed harder into his chest. Until, Dazai backed off, letting the man take a couple deep, much needed, breaths. The man didn't even have time too blink before the sound of three distinct gunshots echoed through the alley and he felt a burning pain before everything went black as he felt a warm red liquid pool on his chest.

[olive-fics]

Abby Anderson x Injured Reader

I need to be held so.. Just some fluff. Uses Y/N and some pet names, Some mentions of blood and a deep cut, Friends with benefits, Abby just kinda taking care of you cus she loooovesss you.. Not proof read.

It was your first patrol back after an incident that left you sidelined for weeks. Abby Anderson, someone you considered more than just an acquaintance, had insisted on being your patrol buddy for this crucial return to duty. . .

Hail hammered against your coat and hat, each icy pellet sent a jolt against your skin, matching the erratic pounding in your chest as you struggled to keep pace through the freezing storm. Abby's grip tightened on your arm to keep you balanced with your limp leg after snagging it on an old fence.

“Damn it, Y/N..” Abby’s voice trembled with a mix of worry and frustration, her breath visible in the frigid air. “It’s your First patrol back your surgery and you’re hurt again.. Base is too far. We have to camp out in this cabin..” Abby’s voice was breathy from the cold breeze and sniffle from her nose.

Her words cut through the howling wind, Together, you stumbled towards the rustic cabin. With every step, the hail seemed to intensify as you slowly inched to the door. You couldn’t help but wince from the sharp, uneasy twinge shooting through your leg.

Abby cautiously eased the door open, her senses alert for any sign of danger, her pistol drawn and ready in case infected had breached the cabin.

“It’s clear.. Let’s get you on that couch..”

The sight matched your imagination: an abandoned, dirty place, its abandonment was clear in the busted up floor boards and dirt along the trim.

"It's better than nothing," you managed, your voice trembling with each syllable, punctuated by the relentless waves of pain surging through your leg. "It’s just for tonight- I'll be alright by morning." Your words strained through the discomfort as you sat down on the filthy chair.

“I think I have a few matches left..Lets get a fire in here..” Abby rummaged through her pocket and grabbed a match, tossing it into the fireplace. Abby let out a low sigh as she focused her attention on you.

"Now, let me take a look at this knee, Angel.”

You couldn’t help but feel flustered by that stupid nickname she called you. She knew it pissed you off but you were in no mood to argue.

"It's nothing," you admitted reluctantly, feeling a pang of vulnerability as Abby rolled up your jeans. “Just... hurts more than I thought..”

“Oh yeah? Then why are you making a fuss about me just rolling up your jeans then?”

You couldn’t argue with that and just let her off with a grumpy sigh.

“I probably just.. pulled a muscle.”

Abby sighed as she saw the Laceration. “Sure thing..”

Abby unzipped her backpack and retrieved a med kit, she pulled out an antibiotic cleaner. With a careful touch, she began to clean the cut.

"It's gonna sting a bit," she warned, her voice gentle yet tinged with concern. "you need to hold my hand or somethin', love?"

You scoffed and looked away not wanting to accept her hand.. when suddenly the stinging was intense and aching throughout your thigh to ankle.

“F-fuck..!” You exclaimed and gripped the couch cushion to try and alleviate some pain.. Nothing worked. Abby’s free hand reached yours gently and she sighed, “Told you, Gotta listen to me more Princess.” 

Whatever..

Abby removed the blood-soaked rag and applied some ointment. She then wrapped a gauze bandage on your cut and sealed it with medical tape. “Don’t get up from this couch until tomorrow morning. And I mean that Y/N.”

You let out a weary groan, adjusting yourself on the couch, using your backpack as a makeshift pillow. The dull ache persisted, and despite the discomfort, you tried to close your eyes to sleep while Abby searched the cabin for supplies and rations.

“There’s a bedroom if you wanna lay in there.” Abby leaned on the door frame to the living room looking down at you on the couch.

"Gods, yes I do," you whined, attempting to rise from the couch when Abby abruptly halted your movement. Her sudden intervention paused your attempt. Her hand rested gently on your shoulder.

"Easy there," Abby's voice was firm. "Let me help."

With a gentle hold, Abby swiftly slid her right hand under your thighs and her left hand under your back, lifting you with ease. Abby's biceps were toned and defined, when picking you up the muscles in her upper arms flexed, revealing a gentle curve.

"Comfortable? Just a few more steps. Easy now Princess.."

You couldn’t help but have that tiredness in your eyelids hit you as soon as you smelled her musky pine soap. The gentle tickle of the end of her braid against your arm was a subtle, soothing touch, each strand brushing lightly and creating a calming sensation. A soft yawn escaped your lips and you shut your eyes, you nestled your head into her shoulder as she lowered you into the little bed.

“Sleepy girl.” Abby laughed quietly and stroked your hair.

“Don’t go..” you whined as Abby started to walk off..

“You want me to stay? Like… in bed with you??”

“Yes.”

Abby couldn't deny that sleepy voice.

Abby slowly crawled into bed next to you. She picked you up and placed you on top of her chest where she cuddled you the rest of the night.

---

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Drive My Car

————————————————————————-

Summary: You still haven't learned your lesson… and are back with a Joe prank! Now it's calling your poor husband to tell him about your discovery of “Christmas gas”.

Warnings: Fluff, slight illusion to smut

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

December 12th, 2023

I still don't know how Joe isn't tired of me and my tricks yet. After all of the pranks I've pulled on him I just keep finding more.

Bored in bed since Joe was gone, I found a prank I could do on him over the phone and immediately got down to business.

He was at his parent's house helping his mom build a new dresser like the amazing son he is while I stayed at home with Tyson and Miles. They weren't awake yet so I could put Joe on speaker while recording with his iPad.

After making my hair look decent I pulled Joe’s contact up and called him.

In usual amazing husband fashion, he answered in less than two rings.

“Hey Joey.” - you

“Hey, Mama. What's up? Do I need to step outside for this.” - Joe

Even though I loved Robin with my whole heart, I really didn't want her to think I was a ditz who thought diesel was “Christmas gas”.

“Uhm, yes.” - you

“Okay gimme a sec.” - Joe

A few moments later you could hear the back sliding door shut and Joe told you to keep going.

“Okay so the other day I saw this TikTok about this thing called Christmas gas and I wanted to try it. So I did. Now my car barely even got home and it was making a weird sound.” - you

“Baby… what? What the fuck is Christmas gas and where did you get it?” - Joe

“The gas station we always go to! It's just gas that's supposed to smell like pine wood for the holidays.” - you

I had to mute myself because I was dying laughing. Joe sighed and groaned out of pure annoyance before clearing his throat to speak.

“You actually put it in your car?” - Joe

“Mhm. Should I have not of?” - you

“I don't know, y/n! I've never heard of damn Santa gas or whatever the hell!” - Joe

“Christmas gas! It’s a limited edition!” - you

“Limited edition… baby why would they have limited edition gas?” - Joe

“I don't know. It was like three more dollars a gallon though and didn't even smell like pine wood.” - you

“Oh my god. y/n, was it coming from the green nozzle?” - Joe

“Yes! You have heard of it!” - you

“y/n, that's diesel babe! Did you put diesel in your car?” - Joe

“No, I put the Christmas gas in.” - you

“The green nozzle is diesel, y/n. That's why it was 3 more dollars than the regular gas, and why your car isn't working, because you put diesel in your gas car!” - Joe

“Are you sure? The gas station was decorated for Christmas and the green pump even had lights on it.” - you

“Yes, I'm sure! I'm gonna have to call the mechanic and take your car in when I get home later. Hopefully, your engine isn't ruined.” - Joe

“Is my car going to be ruined, Joey?” - you

“I don't know baby. You have to stop doing those stupid TikTok trends, y/n.” - Joe

“I’m sorry Joe. If my car’s ruined don't feel like you have to get it fixed.” - you

“That's BS. Imma get your damn car fixed. Just promise you won't do stuff like that till you run it by me because it might be a scam.” - Joe

“Okay, baby. I love you.” - you

“I love you too, just don't use your car till I get home. If you need to go somewhere before I do just take one of mine.” - Joe

“Thank you, just one more thing to tell you before you go.” - you

“Please tell me you didn't get your oil changed with reindeer piss.” - Joe

I busted out laughing and Joe giggled along with me, proud of how he was quick enough to make a funny joke.

“No! But… this was a prank.” - you

“Oh my god y/n! So your car is fine?” - Joe

“Yes. I haven't even left the house… or even the bed yet today.” - you

“Shit babe, you had me worried for a minute. Well, I'm gonna go. I love you.” - Joe

“I love you too! Kinda sad I won't get to see you play sexy mechanic though.” - you

“Pregnancy hormones?” - Joe chuckled

“They’re through the roof.” - you giggled

“I’ll help when I get home.” - Joe

I could practically hear his smirk in his lust-laced promise.

“Bye, Joey.” - you

“Bye, Mama. Don’t be buyin’ any gasoline from elves ya hear?” - Joe

“Yes, sir.” - you laughed and Joe hung up

That gorgeous man is a saint for putting up with me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: this is my favorite thing ever?! Saw this request in my inbox and IMMEDIATELY started writing.

Request for this fic;

[poppy-metal]

poppyyyyy i’m gonna cry not the thing i sent you being turned into an au and i have no more ideas for it 😭😭 this is hell. all i have to offer is this ( https://pin.it/4XElozLiD ) is nepo brats wedding dress in my head and it was one of those ones that’s shot by vogue and like sponsored by harry winston and they have a breakfast at tiffany’s themed rehearsal dinner like just a massive networking event essentially that she only agreed to bc she REALLY wanted artashi to see and react and bust down her door to beg for her back. also love the idea of a shitty marriage, i imagine it’s like when blair got married in gossip girl and she thought everything was perfect (on the outside at least) and then when they had their first dance he essentially was like “play your fucking part and this will be so much easier for you” and she was like oooooh shit what did i do 😐 called tashi in tears and she charters her a plane and lets her stay at their penthouse for a few days…..i wanna sit on their couch in a big gown with tears streaming down my face and have them take care of me even tho they’re pissed :( doesn’t mean they wanna see me hurt this badly :( need to try to apologize through sobs and have art say we’ll talk about this in the morning as tashi brushes hair off my forehead and pauses like she’s gonna kiss it :(

OR you could have her freeze up after he pops her little perfect marriage delusion and have her go along with it for months, maybe there’s a fan account that follows your every move that tashi checks daily on a burner. she notices the dwindling amount of times you’re seen with friends, essentially the only time you’re seen now is with that man by your side. over the months your personality snuffs out entirely, looking to him before you speak, smiling along to whatever he says. people make jokes about how your PR team finally broke you. one day art is standing in the corner of their living room, face twisted up, doesn’t look up when tashi makes an inquisitive sound. walks over to her and turns his phone around to show her a photo of you walking hand in hand with your husband into a restaurant, faint bruises up your arm, hair covering your eye intentionally. she stares at the phone with no reaction. finishes getting ready to go, says she forgot something as they get in their car and runs upstairs and barely makes it to the bathroom before she throws up. you’ve changed assistants by now but she finds their information within the hour, loosely threatens them with telling her where you’ll be for the rest of the day, rolls her eyes hard when she hears a “they” instead of “you”. doesn’t change anything she has planned. she makes a call to her legal team after hanging up with your assistant because there’s no way your husband will let you out of this without a fight, one that she’s prepared to hold your hand through the entire way. she shoots her husband a text and lets him know to get the guest bedroom ready.

AUR.

i think..... both can happen. you run to tashi as soon as the wedding is over - still in your dress, though its ripped in places - show up on her doorstep because you know the code to the gate - shivering in the cold and when the door opens tashi is looks so soft. like she'd just gotten ready for bed. hair a little damp and curling at the ends. a pale peach robe tied around her waist. she's beautiful.

she doesn't look happy to see you. "what are you doing here?" said so coldly. like you're not welcome. and why would you be? its so different to face her anger through miles and miles of distance. all you've wanted for months was for her to just - notice you. give you attention. you'd even say sorry, take the blame, take every word back, if she'd asked. but she's looking at you like you're an annoying reporter. a nuisance shown up at her door.

you break down in tears. full body sobs that have you kneeling at her door, at her feet, head in your hands as you shake with all your bottled up emotions. "i messed up." you choke - "i - i - i - its all wrong - tashi - "

you can't speak through your tears, heaving through wet flem in your throat. she'd have every right to toss you out. you wondered how pitiful you looked right now, crumpled like this. still in your wedding dress. your new husband probably buried in some other woman for the night. he wouldn't miss you. you didn't want to go to your new home with him.

you feel warmth at your elbows. tashi's hands, cupping you. "come on." her tone isn't warm, but its lost its chill. she tugs you up. "come in - you'll get fucking pneumonia out here."

she brings you in - one hand at the small of your back to guide you. you sniffle. look around. her home still looks the same. familiar. you're brought to their big expansive kitchen - where art had been scrolling through his phone in sweats and a simple cotton shirt - finishing off a bowl of fruit - when you come into view his fork pauses in the bowl. his expression is completely unreadable. but its not very welcoming.

he looks at tashi, dismissing you. you try not to flinch.

"what's this about?"

tashi leaves you at the kitchen island to open the fridge. she fishes out a bottle of water and brings it over to you. "drink this." she tells you. to art she simply shrugs. "dont know." and she looks at you. "what's this about?"

you struggle to open the bottle. your hands trembling. after a few failed attempts art rolls his eyes, yanks the water from you and opens it with one twist of his wrist around the cap. quick and easy. he slides it back over to you and looks at you blankly.

under both their stares you feel the weight of all the months between you. all the shit you talked about them on social media. the things you'd said.... your bottom lip wobbles. eyes filling with tears. "im sorry." you say, softly. you cant think of what else to say. "im - im sorry for coming - i- ill go."

tashi reaches out. you're startled by how strong her grip is on your arm. her nails almost dig into your flesh. you welcome the sting. a show of emotion. even if its anger. her claws coming out.

"no." she snaps. "you dont get to show up here after the shitshow you've made of this year - in your fucking wedding dress - sniveling like some sort of damsel at our home and then just leave." she points to a stool. "sit. explain why you came."

her tone leaves no room for argument. you find your ass in the stool before you even realize you'd made the conscious decision to move there. like a doll on her strings. it'd always been easy to take her orders.

you try to explain but you're pitiful at it. you keep crying when you bring up your husband - the way he'd treated you. how trapped you feel. how you came here because - despite everything, this was your safe space - you'd never seen it any differently. and you knew, no matter what, tashi would answer the door when she saw it was you on the other side.

they're quiet after that. art works his jaw like hes rolling thoughts around in his head, but his distrust is obvious. you know if he'd been the one to see you at the door, he'd have never answered. that knowledge hurts deeply - to know he's completely detached himself from you. that you'd lost him. his care and his love.

you wondered if you'd be thrown out regardless but tashi rubs at her temple. suddenly looking very worn out and tired. "this is a fucking mess." she says and your stomach twists. you were always complicating things for them. being a burden. she drops her hand. looks down at you like you're a puzzle with a few pieces missing.

you guys are the missing piece, you think.

"you can stay the night." she finally settles on, shares a look with art who looks like he wants to say something about that but she silences him. "we'll talk more about this in the morning. you need..... you need to get out of that god awful dress. and too sleep."

art watches tashi guide you to their guest room with a frown. he doesn't like this. tashi is such a strong front on the outside, but she was alot more vulnerable than people realized. and you'd really hurt her. you'd hurt both of them, but arts feelings..... they didn't matter here. at least, not to him. he could shove down the heartbreak and the anger and the betrayal and everything else he felt about you to make room for the world of hurt tashi was going through. he had to be strong for her. and you being here - showing back up - pouring salt in an open wound - god. you were such a selfish fucking brat. always had been. he used to find it endearing. now he just wanted to throttle you.

in the guest room - tashi helps you out of the dress. her knuckles skim down your spine when she unzips you. kneeling down to help you out of your heels. you hiss when she turns your foot - assessing the blisters. "jesus." she huffs. stands and gets you some of her things to wear. a soft tank top and some shorts. arts boxers, actually. you flush when you put them on, under tashi's watchful gaze. she points to the bed when you're done, a silent command.

you sink down onto the comforter. bite your lip when she comes back into the room with a jar of ointment for your feet. "here -" she sits next to you, and a waft of her scent hits your nose. sophisticated and clean. she props your foot on her lap as she gently rubs the cream into the abused skin. you swallow, as you watch her. this gentleness. you'd missed it.

all your life you'd been 'taken care of' but only in the most clinical of ways. you had all the money you could want, maids to pamper you if you wanted, but it was nothing compared to being...... treated like a human. being cared for by someone who actually cares about you intimately.

"stop doing that." tashi says. she doesn't look up from her work.

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that." she tells you. she finishes and cups the lid back on the jar, and she looks at you. brown eyes.... sad. "we're not - " she breathes. shakes her head. "you can't look at me like that."

you scoot closer to her on the bed. she doesn't move away. "its the way I've always looked at you." you tell her.

she glances at you. glances down where your - her - shirt has slipped off your shoulder and its bare. so close to her mouth. she'd pressed alot of kisses there. left alot of marks.

"things have changed." she tells you. "you know that - you're responsible for it."

you place a hand on her thigh, just under her robe. lean in. "i know and im sorry." you slip to the floor then, on your knees before her. "i didn't mean any of it." you tell her, looking up at her. "i miss you, tashi. i miss art. i miss - us. i - i want you back."

tashi looks down at you. her hand comes out and she catches a strand of your hair between her fingers. rubs it. "you're married."

"I'll leave him."

her eyebrows jump. "you've been a very bad girl to me and my husband."

the way she says it.... bad girl. familiar warmth pools between your legs.

"i know." you whisper. "and im sorry." you lean more forward, and her legs slide open - her robe inching up her thighs. she watches you. heat in her eyes. she still wants you. yes. "let me make it up to you - to you both - i will - you know i can."

she studies you for some time. then she parts her legs wider. "show me, then. show me how sorry you are."

you dont have to be told twice - ducking your head down - diving between her soft thighs - you moan when you discover she's not wearing any panties. your mouth finding her pussy already wet and slick.

more wet than usual - but when you pull back - her hand comes down - tangles in your hair to keep you pressed against her bare cunt. you look up and meet her eyes as you allow your tongue to investigate - "that's it." she purrs. "you know what to do with that tongue -"

you gasp when you part her folds - a warm flood of salty fluid pouring into your mouth. a zap goes through your body at the realization.

arts cum.

she sees you realize it and bites her bottom lip. rocks herself into your face. "he's been so pent up lately." she tells you, hooks one of her long legs over your shoulder. "and its your fault - so -"

her nails dig into your scalp - "clean it up."

you do. whimpering into her pussy as you tongue the remaints of her husbands cum, scooping it into your mouth and swallowing greedily. you missed his taste so much. you wish he was here, pushing you into her pussy. slipping a hand down your shorts to pet through your wet slit. he'd make you eat every last drop before he sank a finger inside.

when everything is gone, tashi adjusts her grip. using you now. rubbing her clit against your nose and working her hips against your mouth exactly how she likes it. "fuck." she pants. she looks down at you and both her hands cup your cheeks. her thumbs rub into the skin. "pretty girl -" she breathes, and you whine, "this is what - fuck - what your mouth should be doing - instead of running off online -"

her grip turns vicious - her movements more forceful. properly fucking your face with her pussy. you just lay your tongue out and take it.

"you're such a goddamm brat." she hisses and her clit pulses as she starts to cum. "but - god, i missed you. yes -"

you lap up everything she gives you. eagerly. her hands carding through your hair as she comes down. she sits up, detaching your lips from between her legs and you look at eachother, lost in a moment together.

her fingers trace your wet mouth. and you part your lips for her instantly. looking up at her like shes a goddess - because she is. she strokes across your tongue with her fingers. your eyes flutter as you start to suck around the digits. mouth blessedly full. you bob your head up and down them, taking her past the knuckle.

your teeth catch on her wedding band and her breath hitches when you swirl your tongue around it. her mouth parted in wonder - like she cant believe you're really here again.

this is where you should be. always. at either her or arts feet. taking some part of them inside you. its what you're meant for. not money and wealth and jewelry but this. this, this, this.

tashi pulls her fingers back suddenly. her ring clicks against the back of your teeth.

her face shudders. closes off.

"that -" she licks her lips. "that shouldn't have happened." she stands, and you fall back on your ass. look up at her dumbfounded.

"tashi -"

"a mistake." she retightens the sash around her waist. rubs a hand down her face. looks down at you. winces. "don't cry."

but how can you not?

"but we just.... you said -"

"do you really think head is enough of an apology?" she tells you, and that tone is back. the cold one. she crosses her arms. "god, you've dragged my name through the mud. the damage you've done to arts career - we had to take a break, did you know that? he missed matches that could have changed his life. all of that, on hold, because you decided to throw a tantrum because what -" she laughs. "- you couldn't handle a break up? grow up."

she shakes her head. lips pressed tightly together. she cant look at you. if she sees your watery eyes she'll fold again. take you into her arms and forgert the past year entirely. fall back into bed with you and make you cum over and over until you were nothing but the shaking mess she missed seeing. god, she'd just cheated on art. fantastic.

"I'll help you get a divorce if thats what you want." she tells you, already walking away. "but after that? we're done. for good, this time."

the click of the door sounds like a bullet in your ears. you stay kneeled on the floor for a long, long time.

and the next morning - when tashi goes to wake you up. she finds the room empty but a note left on the bed. she almost doesn't want to read it. art is in the kitchen - making breakfast for four. because as mad as he pretends to be for her sake, he still thinks about you. cares about you. misses you as much as she does. it'll break him to learn about what she'd let happen - but only because he didn't get a chance to feel you one last time himself.

tashi was really the selfish one.

she picked up the note. read it.

i want you to know meeting you in that coffee shop was the best thing to ever happen to me. I'm a spoiled rotten brat, i know. but you taught me to be more. you let me into your life. gave me another person to love in art, and you both took care of me and treated me better than i deserved. im truly sorry for how things ended. and im sorry for how i acted after. i was hurt. i thought you didn't care about me. that maybe you never did. and i lashed out. im sorry. im taking back all my statements in an interview next week. i hope it can restore some of the damage I've done to you and art. you're two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. and im lucky to have fallen in love with both of you. im not divorcing my husband. i think maybe i can try to make it work. you dont need to worry about me, either of you, you've done enough of that. I'll be fine. love - your tinkerbell.

the note flutters to the ground limply. art calls that breakfast is ready.

tashi isn't hungry.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Just Another Notch

Bucky Barnes x Plus!Reader Masterlist

Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong. Part 5/?

Word count: 1,682

AN: two chapters in one day because I can 💋🤷🏻‍♀️

So here you were, dressed in the most expensive fabric you’ve ever touched. Tony had a dress tailored for your mission, the style was nothing like anything you saw at any of his cocktail parties. It felt vintage, like old money. The dark green was almost black, but in certain lights you could see the emerald reflection. It was long, but not in a slim, skin tight way, it had a bust, and it flared out at the hips, dark tulle flowing to the floor. It was like the dress was actually made for you, designed for your body, not sized up.

Your hair and makeup was done by no one other than yourself. You didn’t trust the makeup artists Tony hired, if their faces were any indication of what you’d look like, you’d rather go bare faced. You were good enough at makeup, understanding that for this look, you needed to look classic, rich. To achieve it, a tiny black wing with a white shimmer on your inner corner was more than enough for your eyes. You didn’t touch your eyebrows or put foundation on, though you usually like to. You had to know that the other women there won’t be wearing nearly as much makeup. You brush a coral rouge powder over your cheeks, then dabbing it off with a big powder brush, practically blending it into your skin.

The only thing you knew to go all out for, is you lips. Dark red, almost purple: the bloodier the better. Nothing said evil conglomerate like a red lip. And your hair, no one touched your hair. You had that covered, heat was never applied, gel and foam rollers helped you achieve the thick curls that sit on your shoulders. You sucked in a breath as you walked out of your room, down to the elevator felt like a thousand steps.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflective metal elevator door, and now you felt the same as you did this morning, practically naked in a sports bra. When it dings and you step out onto the roof, you see your team, suited up like they’re going on a mission, as they climb into the quinjet. How lovely, they get bullet proof armor and you get priceless crushed velvet. You know what else is priceless? Your life.

You focus on walking in heels, keeping your eyes on the ground infront of you, when you step up onto the platform you look around, seeing where you should sit. Of course Natasha and Steve take the pilot seats, leaving you and Bucky to figure it out. You find a seat near the exit, your nerves getting the better of you.

Of course Bucky sits right beside you. You try not to make eye contact as you sit back and cross your legs, it’s gonna be a long ride. “I’m sorry, about this morning. I didn’t know he would say that.” He whispers to you, as if Natasha and Steve aren’t allowed to hear his apology. You roll your eyes, whatever you thought you were doing with Bucky, is over, too much has happened.

You had a job to do, and playing hard to get would be saved for a later date, never. He notices your eye roll and places his hand on your exposed shoulder, trying to relax you. But it does the opposite. “You look beautiful, doll.”. You nod your head, you couldn’t call him a liar, you knew you looked amazing. But that didn’t mean you had to be grateful for his compliment.

The thought sat in the back of your mind, he’s only trying to add you to his roster, don’t fall for it. You look over and your eyes connect with his and you can’t help but to feel a little guilt when you see the sincerity in his eyes. You always expect the worst from him, and every time he proves you wrong, except for this morning, you had no clue what he said to Steve after you left, he could’ve scolded him or laughed with him. You’d never know, cause you’ll never ask. You didn’t care to, you don’t want to be another one of his numbers.

Bucky can see the uncertainty in your eyes, moving his gloved hand from your shoulder to your jaw. “I mean it.”. The way the words fell from his lips had your skin igniting. Now here you were, betraying your own thoughts instantly. He runs his leather covered thumb over your bottom lip, he watches as it pulls with the friction. “I love this color on you.” He says in his hushed tone, but it didn’t feel hushed anymore, every breath he took reverberated off your eardrums. You were so focused on his mouth as he spoke you didn’t notice him scoot closer to you on the bench.

It’s like another person inside of you spoke, “Thank you.”, you’re not really sure what you’re thanking him for, but maybe it will make him ease on his intensity. He smiles genuinely as you accept his compliments. “It’s a shame, can’t take you out tonight, looking like this.” He smooth talks. And you hate yourself for blushing, so you try to play it off “What made you think I’d go out with you?” You squint slightly, watching his reaction.

He’s an award winning actor apparently, his parted lips forming a smirk, “You saying you wouldn’t?” He says lowly, his grip on your jaw tightening slightly. You don’t know, if you’re honest with yourself; you liked how he was making you feel right now, and you couldn’t imagine how it would be if you were on a date with him.

You decide, in that moment of lapsed judgement, that you did wanna play his game after all. You close your mouth, that hung agape giving him the permission to keep his thumb there, your lips subtly wrap around his gloved finger, it was a barely noticeable innuendo. You pull away before you can even taste the leather; shaking your head. “Depends, are you asking me?”.

Bucky’s eyes darken at the sight of your lips wrapping around him. It’s like a switch was flipped, this wasn’t another office fuck. The way you made him feel was primal, he never needed anyone like he needed you right now. “Do that again, see what happens.”. He says, practically groaning the words out.

Your heart starts pumping deep in your stomach, you could feel that nauseous feeling some would consider butterflies. Bucky wasn’t gonna answer your question about asking you on a date, because in his mind, once he had you, there was no need to pretend with dinners and movies. Bucky leans in, pulling your face closer to his with the strong grip he has on you. “I dare you.”.

You couldn’t back down now, you had him hooked, and you were obviously winning the game. You smirk at his possessive eyes, then you wrap your lips around the thumb again, a little more of it this time. Your tongue being able to flick against it, you would die at the thought of others blood staining it. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.

Bucky’s eyes watch your mouth intently, a little gasp escaping him. He was shocked, he didn’t expect you to do it. Now he had to figure out just what he was gonna do about it. He presses his thumb down on your tongue, paralyzing it. His eyes are almost black as they study your face. “You have no clue do you?” He presses his brows together.

You shake your head in his hand, not being able to speak. You don’t really know what exactly he’s referring to. “What I’m going to do to you when this mission ends.” He clarifies, pulling his thumb from your mouth, dragging his hand down your neck, a trail of your own saliva wetting your skin. Thank god you weren’t wearing foundation.

He presses the wet digit against your pulse point, and you can feel the blood stop rushing to your brain. Your mind starts racing with the possibilities, but the lack of oxygen is fogging it. Maybe you played the game a little too well. Maybe you want him and you’ve been denying it to yourself this whole time. “I-“ you begin to say but the shuttering of the quintet landing and the sound of Steve and Natasha unbuckling their seatbelts make you and Bucky snap out of the lust filled bubble you were in.

“We’re here.” Steve says, looking between you and Bucky, his eyebrows raising at seeing you to pressed so tightly side by side. Bucky removed his hand the second he realized we were about to be seen. But he didn’t care what Steve thought, so he didn’t move from his spot, just scowling at his so called friend from across the quintet. He gave him one more chance after the “needing to eat already” comment. But when he said you needed to lose weight, that was enough for him to feel differently about his friend, telling him to fuck off, and come back when he has some common decency.

He didn’t expect to be paired with him on a mission so soon. He ignores Steve’s hopeful eyes, turning to Natasha. “Coms on?” He says, sliding an earpiece over to you. Natasha gives a thumbs up, already typing away on a laptop, trying to find the blue prints for Bruno’s yacht.

He turns back to you, and Steve checks his watch, you had to go now, the boat was gonna undock soon. He presses the button that releases the platform, the heavy metal door slowly descending to the ground. Bucky had done such a good job distracting you, you almost forgot your mission entirely. Now you were in action mode, but you didn’t have the hang of your action mode quite yet. Bucky takes your hand in his. “I’ll be with you the whole night, okay?” He says, noticing the fear in your eyes. You nod, taking a cooling breath. “I’m ready.”

[izaneko]

bonten manjiro x fem reader

warnings: smut. cursing. physical stuff. finishing inside. fluff. angst. timeskip - bonten mikey.

an: after finally forever i am finished w the bonten mikey fic that was request from way back and now it is here in existence - hope you enjoy / are pleased with it love! 💙

~

bonten mikey never took it easy on your body. especially after not seeing you. tonight was possibly the worst of all. after accidentally and absent-minded you forgot to turn on your ringtone when he tried calling you suddenly after one of his bonten discussions to check in on you. bad mistake. he had busted through your front entrance with beyond intense rage when you flew out the shower -quickly covering yourself with a white linen fast when you darted through the door to see him standing in front of you in what almost resembled madman. ' manjiro- w ..wha - ' he cut you off instantly with his sweaty rough palm against your trembling face in fear unknowing of what would happen. 'what.. the fck !.. - is wrong with you?! ' he screamed as he slammed his free hand balled furiously against the wall adjacent to your body making you boil in panic. 'manjiro. please. calm down, it is ok .. - ' speaking quitely to him you tried to attempt to cradle his shaking cheeks in your hands. you knew what this was. he was scared. manjiro acted usually so calm and composed but there were few moments when you witnessed his complete and total breakdowns - his times where he just let out everything and let the anxiety win strongly against his full will. you knew damn well he was in a panic over you and couldn't be angry for his actions in that moment even if would mean having to plaster the wall the next morning. 'babe- its alright. i'm here.. i did not mean - to not to answer your calls ..i just was in the shower- nn ! -' before you knew it he was kissing your lips with love filled hypnotic passion. you were here. nothing could go wrong - not with him around. he hated leaving you sometimes even for multiple days on end when he'd have to leave the country for bonten work and other such things and the thought alone sickened his stomach. sure - he always had sanzu always posted outside your apt whenever he was out if town, much to his pink haired partners dismay- there was never a moment that he wasn't thinking about what could be going wrong whenever he stepped foot away from your presence and -at least in this moment .. right now there was not a damn thing that could take him away - from being with you -

~~

manjiro fucking your body like like he's possessed. i mean - he is insane. he forced your hands back pinning them above your head obviously avoiding your whines and whimpers for him and pushing himself in your wet cunt before any words could form in your mind he went feral when heard you moaning from him ' unh .. babee-! 'making his way much further inside you than he should be doing making you cry out his name loudly. ' fck- me manjiro - ah! .' nothing would hold this man from bringing the devil out when he was forcing his cock over and over again until the warmth of that place he needed took over and stole him from reality. it was an abyss one you only could deliver him into - manjiro wanted it all. making you only his was the best decision he could have had ever made in his life. grabbing onto your waist he placed his mouth over your neck biting down almost as if he was in need of your sweet nectare pushing himself further into his abyss making you cum so dmn fast you swore it was the first time. ' - babe! - ah ! ' swelling around him your vagina drenched his belly and was dripping all down your own legs from whatever magic he was working your pussy into and you pleaded with him so hard not to stop - 'babyy ..! ah! .. manjiro! - ' mikey cut you off with his tender lips in a sharp embrace to your moaning mouth. 'nnngh .. unh-nghh ..' you heard him groan wildly as he began fucking you harder and harder sighing into you with his sexy voice - all the way pressed in your hair from how close he was about to orgasm and the motions rocking the bed of how he was pleasuring himself with you with such force and strength from his biceps and toned build so chaoticly when you felt yourself starting to cum all over again before the feeling of the wood snapping beneath you giving out completely with the mattress folded in half against the floor as he went on relentlessly aggressively pounding his hard cock in you in a murderous fixation, thrashing your throbbing cumming core with such fine work you did not give no cares .. at all. 'manjiro- .. ah!- fck .. yess! - ' your voice sounded so beautiful and pleasing to him and he could not stand to pull himself out when in some dream like state he gave out to your serene voice against him like a melody to his body. the sweat from your panting chest against his skin mixing into his felt like a drug and he grabbed your chin into a hungry lip lock- manjiro needed you. every last part of you. your body. your lips. your voice. your smile. your comfort. your embrace. you were his life - the perfect person for him that he could have imagined in a partner and to his surpise you offered it happily he had thought to a piece of shit like him - without question. he had to do better for you. for your future. and maybe even his own.

©izaneko - all rights reserved.

please do not copy / reupload or modify my writing.

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x Teen!reader - please help me

Hi, I don’t know if you take requests at the moment but I’ve been craving some hotch hurt/comfort (mostly comfort) fics and as you write for him + your writing is amazing, I thought why not request, now it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to write this Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader who has abusive parents and Hotch and reader are neighbors and reader asks Hotch for help knowing he’s an FBI agent (maybe Hotch has suspected before that the parents are abusive bc of yelling and he has seen reader with injuries) - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: abusive parents

As Hotch came home after a long day, he stopped outside his door and looked to the apartment next to his, hearing the yelling.

Sighing to himself, he rested his back against his door, trying to listen to whatever was going on.

He stayed put for a few moments before he gave up and went inside his apartment, as much as he wanted to check everything was okay, he knew he couldn’t.

The last time he did that it seemed to make the screaming and shouting worse.

But he still worried.

He’d called the police before, but it never went any further, and he couldn’t exactly barge into the place without any cause.

All he had was his suspicions, and that wasn’t enough cause to break down the door.

Setting his stuff down, he walked over to his kitchen to make himself a drink when he heard a door slam, and he sighed.

He knew who it was.

It was you.

And he walked to his door opening it, seeing you sitting on the steps.

“Hey, you want a drink?” He asked.

You looked up and shook your head.

“No thanks… going out..”

Hotch sighed softly.

“It’s late, come on, I don’t want you walking around this late you’re too young.”

“I’m a teenager…”

He smiled.

“And you’re still young, so come on, I’ve got your favourite hot chocolate and marshmallows.”

You stood up and followed him inside, and he led you to the table, making your drink he set it in front of you and he sat next to you.

“Where’s Jack…?” You asked quietly.

“He’s staying at a friends, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

You sipped your hot chocolate.

“I heard the shouting. You know if you need help I can help you right? You just need to talk to me.”

“Nothings going on. It’s fine. Just me playing a game.”

Hotch looked at you, and he sighed to himself, he could see how tired you were and how low and worn out you were.

He wouldn’t force you to talk to him, so all he could do was offer you a place on his couch to sleep and some food.

But when morning came around you were already gone, he assumed back to your apartment.

He didn’t see you for a week, he had a case, and he couldn’t help but worry about you, so as he was coming back, when he saw you leaving the apartment, quietly closing the door he stopped.

“(Y/N)?” He asked.

You spun around to look at him, and he stared at you in shock.

You had a black eye, busted lip, dried blood on your face under your nose and your knuckles were bloodied and cracked.

“Jesus Christ (Y/N) what happened?”

He unlocked his door and ushered you inside and you stood there.

“Dad!”

Jack came running over and you turned around so he wouldn’t see the state you were in, and Hotch quickly took Jack to bed, spoke to the babysitter and saw her out then lead you to the couch.

He sat you down and grabbed some things, walking over and sitting on the coffee table.

“You’ve got to tell me what’s going on, please.”

He began to clean your hands first while you held ice to eye with your other hand.

You clenched your jaw, and titled your head back trying to hold back your tears.

“I can’t do this anymore Mr Hotchner…” you whispered.

“What’s going on, talk to me, okay? I can help you if you let me.”

You sniffled a little, and said nothing.

“You parents did this didn’t they?” He asked quietly.

You nodded your head and looked at him.

“I don’t get why they hate me so much…”

“Some people are just horrible. Can I ask you some questions?”

You nodded your head and he asked you some questions, and you told him everything he wanted to know.

He finished cleaning your wounds, and set everything aside.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?”

You nodded.

“Alright, that’s alright, you can stay here okay? We’ll set the couch up for you, then we’ll figure something else out tomorrow.”

You weakly nodded again, and he looked at you sadly.

All the fight you had left in you was gone, you were broken.

“I don’t want to go back there…”

You grabbed the fabric of his blazer sleeve.

“Help me…” you begged.

Hotch immediately sat next to you, pulling you in for a warm hug and you seemed to just freeze and it broke him even more.

You’d never been comforted, never been held with such care like a child should’ve been, treated with tender and love, supported and cared for by your parents.

And he was determined to help you, he would do anything he could to help you and stop you from ever going back there, even if it meant you living there