#{ god i need to drink some fuckin water }

[huntershowl-moving]

drabble 002: blackbird.

she was hidden behind a mirror.

light refracted off of its polished surface and showed persephone her own face, gaunt and pale from the lack of a sun. black hair coiled into smoke around her chin. she kept it cut short – it stayed out of the way when she tucked it behind her ears. moreso, leto said it looked professional, and amari fletch had finally assigned persephone a long-term job for the unseen. a chance to prove herself. years of rebellion had transformed into a fairly solid, if bitter, loyalty to fletch. say what you will about them, but they take care of their own. fletch had personally guided every step of the recovery process after ripping persephone's arms from her. they had taught her how to shoot, how to write, how to pick up a fork with the new ones. they had kept her comfortable in their manor, attended to their every need, trained them every day, deftly dancing around her with their ever-changing array of weapons. all of this from the leader of an international crime syndicate – they'd taken the time out of their year to build back up what they'd broken in two. now, fletch was her compass.  it was described to her as a protection gig. persephone would be the personal bodyguard for a voidblooded noblewoman for an indeterminate length of time. she wasn’t told why the girl needed protection, only that her parents were allies of the unseen and so the job would be done to the best of their ability. “i don’t... like killing people,” she told orion while he cut her hair for her first day.

“you still might have to kill people,” orion retorted, ruffling persephone’s hair to fluff it out once he finished.

“sure. but it’s to keep someone safe. and i don’t have to kill them.”

“you’re not gonna be able to avoid murder if that’s what fletch wants you to do.” 

“yeah, but—”

“just... be careful,” orion said, his hands pausing on her shoulders, carefully avoiding the vast expanse of gnarled scarring across the collarbones and scapulae. “please. i love you too much to watch them hurt you again.”

––––––––––––––––––

now, she stood in front of a large, wide mirror in the noble’s sitting room, one hand resting on her rifle as she perused the books on the surrounding shelves. old books. artifacts, classics, trophiesfor the astute literary collector. the walls were decorated with surrealist landscape paintings. but there was no woman to be found – no bedroom, either, despite the parents’ insistence that this was the right door. 

“you’re a criminal, aren’t you?” the voice came from somewhere behind the mirror, soft and melodic with a touch of hesitance. persephone looked up towards the reflection with a furrowed brow.

“i am,” she replied.

“what kind?” 

“hitman.” persephone had never been the type to mince words.

“do you enjoy it?” the voice drifted from the right side of the mirror to somewhere further left.

“no.” 

“hmm.” a pause. “if you wanted to kill me right now, how would you do it?”

persephone blinked, rendered speechless in shock. the voice sighed – “what? i'm curious. being locked up in here is a complete bore. come on. be honest.” 

“uh...” she began to reply, but hesitance gripped at her throat. “i don’t know. you don’t have any windows up here, so i couldn’t shoot you. smash through the mirror and use a knife to slit your throat, if we’re going with effectiveness. find whatever mechanism opens it and sneak in, if i wanted to be quiet. slit your throat, again, or snap your neck — depending on how hard you fight.”

there was silence for a moment, then the sound of footsteps and a soft thump. like someone was sitting down. 

“alright. you are hired.”

“w –” persephone stepped toward the mirror, plopping down in an armchair propped up across from it. “i was already hired. your parents –”

“ – have tried to get a protection detail on me for months. i’ve sent away everyone else.” 

“then...” another pause, as one carbon fiber hand moved to rub at the back of her neck. “why are you keeping me on?”

silence, for a few moments.

“call it a hunch?”

––––––––––––––––––

it took several weeks for the girl – aya – to pull the mirror down and show persephone her true self. short and plump in stature, she had a bob of feathery black hair and an inquisitive gaze. moles dotted her face and her arms where her somewhat-archaic sense of fashion left them exposed. most striking, however, was the pair of giant, ravenlike wingsjutting out from her shoulder blades.  inky hell. no wonder she needed protection.  the feathers were dark and iridescent, obviously sourced from the void just like the smoke coming off of persephone’s hair. suddenly, looking at this radiant woman, every flaw upon their own face and body felt prominent – their bony stature, unusual height, the gnarled scars along their torso where flesh met prosthesis. at her invitation, persephone vaulted through the mirror into aya’s brightly-lit bedroom. six false windows shone with bright, warm light from some built-in mechanism in the walls, each decorated with a lifelike depiction of a sprawling coastal landscape. aya stepped deftly around her. the wings made a soft shuffling noise as their tips dragged along the hardwood floor. above them stretched an unusually high ceiling, the walls closer to it jutting with decorated platforms — persephone imagined aya taking a leap and gliding between them, those magnificent wings spread nearly from wall to wall. a brief smirk flickered across her stoic face. “make yourself at home, bodyguard,” the girl said as she neatened the writing materials on her desk.

“this room...”

“yes, i know. this is the closest i can come to being happy without going outside.”

“you–” persephone’s words stopped, pale eyes darting from the ceiling light back to aya’s face. “you’ve never gone outside?” 

“not even once. my parents are well-known among the city’s nobility. if people knew they had a voidling daughter, it would hurt their status.” the words sounded too flat. like they had been rehearsed time after time. the isolation aya must have felt all these years... the frustration, the pent-up anger, persephone could only imagine. what a living nightmare. 

“i’m sorry.”

“oh, it isn’t so bad. i have my parents... my imagination. and a lot of hope! i want to see the sun for myself one day, not simply feel its light through the windows.”  ah. her parents hadn’t had the heart to tell her that the sun was shattered, then. that meant they had no plans of ever letting their daughter outside. fucking fuck. aya would later claim that she had fallen for persephone first. the assassin did not agree. neither of them could put an exact date on their feelings, but it was somewhere around that first month, even before aya had revealed herself. she made the first move, of course – persephone had always been hesitant with affection, fearing backlash and second-guessing themself. it became obvious over time that she would not initiate. it was a winter night. the city had fallen silent, even the dockworkers sheltering from the cold. snow collected on the manor’s roof and drifted outside of walls without windows, melting into gray slush on duskwall’s sooty streets. persephone stood guard by the mirror-wall while aya pressed snowdrop flowers they'd brought her, wings splayed out behind her body. a small smile played at the corners of the bodyguard’s lips at the sight. somehow, in the heart of this rotted city, innocence had been preserved within one beautiful girl. aya caught her staring. dark eyes glanced over, stopped, held persephone's as a flush bloomed across their cheeks. “what are you looking at?” “what do you think, feathers?” it was an affectionate, teasing nickname; persephone found herself using it more often than even aya's name. they'd always been like that — it came with the territory of having a complicated relationship with one's own feelings. distance was key as an assassin. you wanted to stay unbothered, to be able to dehumanize targets and turn off your empathy. so: nicknames. aya narrowed her eyes, her peach-round face scrunching up a bit. then, she seemed to get an idea. never having learned to put on a social persona, her emotions danced across her face with reckless abandon. persephone could always tell what she was feeling, what she was thinking about, even after only a month together.  “hmm." a low hum from aya’s throat as she stood. her wings shifted back into a folded position at her back (inky feathers always littered the floor, bed, and surfaces of the room. aya did her best to clean them up, but the wings never seemed to stop shedding. the more the merrier, in persephone’s eyes. they looked like jewels.) false sunlight haloed aya’s hair as she sauntered up to her guard. persephone’s heart beginning to flutter in her chest in a way it never had before — like it was trying to break loose. 

“noooothing?” aya teased, voice like honey, breath tickling persephone’s yet-unscarred neck.

“i –”

“i’ll ask you again.” she was giggling between words now, but still there was a fire in her eyes as she gently tugged persephone’s collar to bring them down towards her face. mouth at the guard’s ear, she whispered, “what were you looking at?” 

the word left persephone’s lips, quiet and breathy. “you.” a beat —"aya." no sooner did she murmur the name than aya’s lips closed around hers.

that moment lingers in her mind now, a little piece of gold embedded in her heart to call upon when hellhound threatens to choke the spark from her soul completely.

persephone's hair was unusual in more than one way. she would wake up after nightmares or flashbacks and it would have grown to her shoulders, sometimes halfway down her back after a particularly stressful night. aya took up orion's mantle of cutting it. she liked the way the strands dissolved into smoke between her fingers once she snipped them loose, and persephone liked the way aya’s hands felt brushing against the back of her neck. for their part, they'd run their fingers through the girl’s wings until they both fell asleep. aya would braid tiny feathers into persephone’s hair, fastening it with pins as the strands were too slippery to hold a ribbon. 

–––––––––––––––––– late winter, now. the girls sat together on the bed. persephone lay across aya’s lap as she polished her knife – she only carried one, back then, as fear did not delegate her every move. aya's jasmine perfume enveloped them both in gentle sweetness. it had grown to become a comforting smell; aya wore it all the time. it was uniquely hers. a scent that, like the sight of black feathers, persephone would always associate with better times.  aya hummed, as if she’d suddenly had a thought. her hand moved to the tail of persephone’s coat, flipping it so that the inside showed. “would you mind terribly,” she asked, “if i made an alteration to your coat, love?”  “i wouldn’t,” persephone responded, running a hand down the thick curves and folds of aya’s waist. “what trick do you have up your sleeve, feathers?”

“it’s a surprise. give me two days.” 

“you’d better not make it a vest or give me a chest window.”

“no promises, darling. i would die to see you with a chest window.” aya would toil away in her bedroom for the next two days while persephone stood guard in the library just outside. what a whirlwind of a half-year it had been. love. a love that felt so warm she was certain it was keeping her alive. orion's love was different – the love of her brother was like a pillar of strength. they leaned on each other. they helped each other up when they fell. fletch's love was a complete consumption, a collar and a leash. the love of their parents had been a cold ache, battling with the knowledge that they could do such awful things to their children in its name. every bruise that bloomed across orion's arms, every cut across his tiny cheek that she should have been too young to know how to patch up. “we love you,” their mother had said, and the words had felt like a lie. but feathers – aya – had persephone’s heart in her hands. she held it as gently as one would a baby bird. with orion, persephone was content. with aya, for what felt like the first time in her life, she was happy. 

the alteration aya had worked so hard on was a set of embroidered crocus flowers stitched into the coattails’ lining. the work was meticulous. she’d always had an eye for detail. purple and green and gold thread, every line a work of art in itself. persephone sat hard on the foot of the bed with the coat in her lap, eyes wide, wishing she could feel the flowers’ ridges as her prosthetic fingers brushed over their surface.

“aya –” 

“mm... i love when you say my name.” aya sat beside her, leaned against their shoulder. 

persephone raised her eyebrows with a dry smirk. “feathers.” the rollback earned the pout she wanted to see, before she leaned down to press a chaste kiss to aya’s lips. “i love it, aya. thank you.” it wasn’t often she caught the little bird off-guard. those rare moments were all the more precious; persephone burned aya’s blush into her mind, took in every detail of her face. the two moles dotting the left side and the dark pools of her eyes. the way her short hair hung in sheafs around her ears like bundles of black grain, thick and shiny.

“don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like you want to eat me.”

persephone bared her teeth, sunk them ever-gently into the soft skin of aya's shoulder. both of them collapsed into giggles, then kisses; eventually, deep and tangled slumber. 

––––––––––––––––––

“you’re meeting them at the opera?” orion asked, head craned over the sink as he worked dye through his hair. he had been dumped again. her twin went through boyfriends like a gambler went through cash; he was noncommittal and unlucky to boot. persephone was sliding into a tailored black suit with cufflinks provided by fletch themself: wolf heads, snarling, open-jawed. looking back, it was a message she hadn't seen. barreling toward the goddamn iceberg but too busy staring up at the stars to notice it. fletch's important meetings with persephone often took place often at the city’s most luxurious venues. this time, they sat in balcony seats at the opera, discussing the progress of the job in between numbers.  “you are doing so well, persephone.” they spoke without looking at her. their left arm was folded primly in their lap. the right brought a pair of binoculars down from their face to rest on their knee.  “thank you,” she replied, a little flutter of pride erupting in her chest. a job well done. a lover waiting at home. home –– the word felt alien. exciting. it was the kind of word most people took for granted, until they were ejected from every place they attempted to settle into. eventually, there was no such thing. but now... perhaps there could be. “... the job has changed.”  persephone tilted her head up to meet fletch's gaze, their molten-silver eyes boring into hers with a perfectly unreadable expression. changed? after everything, after her pain of their punishment and the loyalty built up during recovery, persephone dare not question them. if they told her to fling herself off of a balcony, she would be confident that they would take care of her until she was healed. they would not let her die after spending so much time and money reconstructing her into a better fighter. at the same time, if she did rebel, orion was within their reach. they could hurt him, kill him, or worse at any time. “what's the new job?” whatever it was, persephone could still visit aya as frequently as time allowed. even if fletch sent her to skovlan or severos across the sea. she would come back; they had nothing but time. 

“oh – it is the same target. the job has changed from protection to assassination.” 

“i’m sorry?”

the world dropped beneath her feet.

“do not make me repeat myself, persephone. you have twenty-four hours to take care of her.” the opera was over. fletch was already standing, rosy yellow lights gleaming off of the armored pauldron sitting atop their right arm. persephone did not stand. assassination. that was not misheard. take care of her. the same target. assassination. the job. take care of her. they knew what that meant: kill her.   a cold hand on her shoulder broke persephone out of her reverie with a flinch, but the spasm did not make the touch any gentler. fletch's fingertips pressed into the area where flesh and metal came together, pressed against the scars and the nerves that had been too badly damaged to heal. they did not stop until she gasped. take care of her.   “ah, and be sure to deal with the family afterwards. frame it to keep eyes off of the unseen. make it quiet. mr. shimura will pick you up in a carriage at exactly this time tomorrow, persephone.” their words, flippant and light, rolled off of their tongue as they exited their row.

–––––––––––––––––– aya could tell something was wrong the moment persephone walked through her door. their mind was a million miles away, eyes locked in a thousand-yard stare. eyebrows knitting together, aya worried at her lip.  “how was your meeting?” she asked, soft hands moving to pull persephone’s coat off of her shoulders. the cold had fluffed her wings up to twice their size. even now she was beautiful. even in her idle moments, when she had not yet started her hygienic routine, everything – everything was beautiful. it was a special kind of fate that befell people like them. people who were born, kicked in the teeth repeatedly, and then died. some were born hopeful; that was when it hurt to watch them be torn apart. persephone did not respond. she was too busy going through every possible scenario in her mind: betray her loyalty to fletch for aya, and they would undoubtedly be angrier than they were when the twins tried to leave. all three of them would end up dead or worse. fletch would make sure aya died slowly. they would make sure persephone watched. then, they would turn to orion.  even beyond the consequences, something in persephone had broken when fletch took their inhuman strength to her shoulders and tore her limbs from their sockets. something had broken and healed wrong; their hands were still buried deep in her chest, wrapped around her heart from the inside. she didn’t know what she wanted. she didn’t know how to rebel anymore. it had to be done. it had to be done or the world would come crashing around her feet. “aya,” they whispered, voice breaking halfway through the word. their arms found their lover’s shoulders, pulled her closer. aya. blackbird. 

“darling –” her voice was muffled in persephone’s chest, wings and shoulders wiggling in her grip to try and break it. "what are—"

“please. please, just—stay with me like this.”

aya looked up at her, wide eyes searching her face and finding nothing to latch onto. “... alright.”  something seemed to click in aya’s head then. she stopped asking. there was a look on her face that shifted between acceptance and a haunting sort of emptiness; she knew, persephone had no idea how she knew but she did. aya had always been smart, perceptive. she could read people like no one’s business. every passing hour felt like sand slipping through their fingers on that last day. persephone hovered around her lover relentlessly, grooming her wings, pulling her into her lap, pressing kisses to every part of her face and body. soaking in the smell of jasmine and letting her lips feel the softness of aya’s skin where her hands couldn’t. they carefully avoided the subject of what was wrong and instead made the most of every second, every breath. it felt like a dream. so many nights, now, are spent reliving that last day. hellhound listens to the heartbeat of a ghost and tries to recall what it felt like to kiss her. all that’s left is a single black feather adhered into a page of her notebook, cast over in resin so that the edges will never begin to disintegrate. the very same tattooed up the back of her neck, out of place among the rest. all that’s left is a phantom in hellhound’s subconscious, who appears to draw her out of dark places and keep her from being swallowed whole. all that’s left is memory.

–––––––––––––––––– they stood in front of aya’s favorite false window. persephone was behind her, gaze fixed on the scene in front of them. its artificial sunlight swathed them in peachy gold, a forest melting into a beach with trees stretching high into the sky. the light source was structured in such a way that it looked like it was filtering through the treetops, dappling the girls’ skin and catching on their clothes and hair like spun stars. aya would die without knowing the world was dark. that, if anything, was a mercy. sluggishly, persephone slid the knife she’d had since she was a child out of its holster on her thigh, gripped it with a hand that, were it made of flesh, would be trembling too violently to function. void knew the rest of her body was. “i can hear your heartbeat.” aya’s voice came soft, head turning the smallest bit so that persephone could see the hint of her eyelashes haloed by light. they were slick with tears. “it’s okay, love,” aya whispered. “it’s okay.” persephone didn’t even need to apologize, and aya had already forgiven her. there was nothing crueler than this. nothing crueler than the steady way the girl drew her last breath before the blade cut across her throat. nothing crueler than the way she gripped persephone’s other hand in hers, the quivering of her fingers the only betrayal to the fear she was trying so hard not to show. they were both pretending to be stronger than they were, it turned out. persephone gripped aya’s bleeding, twitching body as she collapsed to the floor, their throat choking on quiet, wracking sobs. they held her through it, kissed her forehead, rocked back and forth. sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. it wasn’t supposed to end this way. it wasn’t supposed to

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[bkgml]

Omg! Just found your profile and I literally fell in love with your writing, it’s AMAZING! That’s why I’m here to request a Bakugo x fem!reader where the reader has a telekinesis quirk and overworks herself during practice. After that Katsuki can’t seem to find her anywhere until he searches in her room and find her in bed with lights off and just enter protective boyfriend mode? Thank you so much, hope you’ll write it! 🧡🧡🧡

you felt your head pounding as you stare down at the gym mat. you’ve been training heavily all afternoon and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your limit.

“yn, you good?” sero asks stepping closer to your hunched over form.

your eyebrows furrow and your ears ring. god your head is pounding.

“yeah.” you mutter weakly, breathing deeply through your nose.

“you’ve trained enough for today, go rest up for the test tomorrow.” he says sternly.

“no i’m good, one more round.” you say, standing to your full height in an attempt to mask your pain.

“you’re gonna fucking pass out. go upstairs.” he says, pushing you gently in the direction of the gym doors.

“fine fine i’m going.” you laugh weakly, stumbling outside.

“and drink some fucking water!” he yells.

****************************************************

“i’m gonna kick your ass.” katsuki snarls.

kirishima just knocked him down and katsuki is not happy.

“bro, you’re getting weaker.” kirishima teases, way to poke the beast.

katsuki launches into another attack, pummeling kirishima.

****************************************************

after your quick shower, you stumbled into bed and pulled out your phone.

*calling: katsuki <3*

straight to voicemail.

you sigh, trying to relax, but the stress of your combat test as well as your sore muscles are forcing you to stay awake.

*calling: serooo*

“yo, yn! this fight is crazy, kirishima and bakugou are killing it!”

“nice!” you attempt to sound excited, but you feel like shit.

“…so, katsuki’s still training then?” you say sadly.

“uh yeah he is, do you want me to get him though?” he offers.

“no, it’s okay. just tell him to call me when he’s free, okay?”

“yeah, course. bye, feel better!” he cheers.

“bye sero.” you mumble, arm flopping back on the bed.

you’re so frustrated. you just want to relax and sleep but you can’t manage to.

****************************************************

“hey bakugou.” sero says, running up to him after katsuki finishes sparring.

“hm?” he hums while chugging his water.

“yn told me to tell you to call her.” katsuki’s eyes furrow.

“where is she?” he asks.

“she’s in her dorm. she overworked herself during training, looked like shit.” he replies.

katsuki frowns deeply, pushing past sero and through the gym doors.

“fuckin told her… don’t overwork yourself… just can’t listen.” he grumbles, trudging in the direction of your dorm.

he creaks your door open slowly to not wake you.

“suki?” you murmur, head lifting to peer at your door.

“what are you doing up?” he sighs.

“can’t sleep.” you whine.

“yn i told you not to fuckin overwork yourself.” he grumbles, shutting the door behind him.

“i’m just really stressed out right now, kats. ‘m sorry.”

he sighs, walking over to thread his fingers through your hair.

“i know angel. we can train more tomorrow, you just need to rest properly in between spars, okay?” he says, kissing your forehead softly.

you nod and grab his hand.

“come here.” you whisper, eyes flicking up to his.

“i’m so sweaty. gonna have a quick shower.” he explains and you frown lightly.

“5 minutes. just rest, alright?” he kisses your head before walking into your bathroom.

you try to breathe and relax to the white noise of the shower but your headache overpowers your exhaustion.

****************************************************

“why aren’t you asleep?” he frowns, grabbing boxers from a drawer he occupies.

“i can’t, im too nervous for the test.” you frown, getting frustrated.

“you’re going to pass, i promise.” he says, dragging the towel over his hair while walking over to you.

your frustration builds tears in your eyes causing you to turn away from him.

katsuki sighs, climbing into bed and cradling you gently.

quiet sobs fill the room and you bring your hand up to harshly wipe at your eyes.

“let me kiss you.” he mumbles into your shoulder.

you turn in his grip and bury your face into his chest.

you remain there until your tears stop and you lift your head to look into his eyes, pecking his lips.

he stops you from pulling away by resting his hand on the back of your head, thumb rubbing up and down to massage your scalp.

you sigh into the kiss and feel your eyelids grow heavy.

“sleep now.” he murmurs against your hairline.

you nose at his jaw softly, tucking your face into his neck.

“night.”

he cradles you in his arms.

“night.” he says, smiling against your scalp.

[laambfuzz]

—- lunch munch club. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: watching porn late one night when you come across an interesting video. you're taken by surprise when you see the main male star is also the man who's streams you tune into almost daily.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, munch schlatt, mentions of oral, schlatt does porn (duh), open ending.. so we can expand upon this if we're interested.

authors note: hii! the two ideas i had originally can wait, because the lovely @fanficfox posted something about lc!schlatt doing porn and it struck me with inspo. so! everyone say thank you fox, and i hope you all enjoy! ♡

it's not uncommon for you to have some time to just yourself and the stash of porn videos that pop up on your twitter feed

twitter algorithm knows what to give you these days, which is nice. it saves you the hassle of finding a good account

but perhaps twitter knows you a little too well, when you're recommended a video of a guy eating a girl out

and you're intrigued of course, because who doesn't love that? especially when the camera is on her chest, helping entice you into the experience. as if it were you

the video is already a few seconds in by the time you click on it, and you're introduced to the scene with obscene moans escaping the girl

you can see her thighs tremble around the head in between her thighs, her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through the male's hair

you can hear muffled groans from in between her thighs, and you watch as the head moves back slightly, taking a breath

"god sweetheart, you taste so fuckin' good. could stay down here all night and take my sweet time with you."

that's when a shiver runs through your body, because oh. that sounded like.. and you supposed when you looked at the figure of the male, and the hair..

no. you were being stupid. of course you were. why on earth would schlatt of all people do porn. you know what he's like, he wouldn't

but oh, he would. and when he raises his head from beneath the girl's thighs with his lips glistening with her slick, you're frozen

it's as if your mind has short-circuited, because what the fuck?? you have so many questions; why was schlatt doing porn, why was he not making it subtle, why was he fucking good at it?

you don't have time to focus on your own questions, because your eyes are drawn back to the screen. you watch as his slim, naked body crawls up the bed, getting closer to the camera, licking his lips slowly as he groans

"words can't describe how good that was. need you to taste yourself, baby."

and with that, he's leaning over the camera to lock lips with the girl

immediately you close the tab. your whole being is flushed, and you feel hot inside for many reasons

you felt like you shouldn't have seen that, like you were.. intruding. which was stupid, he put this on the internet, there's nothing private about that

you decided you'd sleep it off. or that maybe this was a bizarre dream you'd wake up from not too long from now. anything but clicking back onto it

and yet only 10 minutes later, you had re-opened the tab

the next evening, schlatt is streaming and you try to watch it like normal. as if last night didn't happen

but you couldn't

now, every time he makes a suggestive joke or comment, you're transported back to last night

when he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck mid-stream, you remember how he looked doing it in the video, before he crawled towards the camera

when he licks his lips after taking a drink, getting the remnants of whatever liquid he had consumed from them, you can only see him licking the girl's slick off himself

you felt insane, like you couldn't act normal about it

and maybe it was part of the insanity, but it felt like he knew.

maybe you were just psychoanalysing his every move now, but you could've sworn he was never like this before.. he was

you decided to test the waters with a few donations littered throughout the night

when he has ordered food in and was wolfing it down, there were scraps and sauces across his lips

"are you always this messy? i thought you liked to take your time with things."

when he's reviewing a video and he's talking a lot over a particular section

"you ever been told you talk too much, or do people usually like that?"

or, when he's playing a poorly made hide 'n' seek game with fans

"i'm not sure you're as good at hiding things as you may think."

"oops, 'things' autocorrected in."

every time schlatt hears one of your donations come through tts, he feels a shiver run down his back

he knew his little side hustle wasn't exactly locked behind security, it was just.. out there

maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into your donations for no reason

either way, he's noting down your name on a sticky note on his desk for next stream for.. reasons.

[sturnslutz]

back to friends.

angst, suggestive, friends with benefits, unresolved, being drunk, use of y/n wc: 1.7k listen to this song on repeat while reading.

matt walked into the room, stumbling onto your bed, his eyes heavy. you were laying down on your bed, aware of what had happened to him and kept both your doors unlocked for him to come inside without problem.

he let his body fall to the edge of your bed, barely hitting your feet. he grumbled, mumbling incoherent words into your sheets. you leaned up, scratching through his brown locks softly, matt letting out a small sound.

"y'need some water?" you ask softly. he nods, lifting his head up from your blanket, fully allowing you to see his drunk, tired face. "here. drink." you handed him a bottle of water that was on your side table, matt happily accepting it.

the last time matt was actually in your bed was not even 3 nights ago where him and his brothers got into an argument, leading him to come to you, his best friend, sobbing into the pillow.

after finishing the bottle, he tosses it somewhere before crawling up closer to you, clinging to you like a small child. "missed you. shoulda' came."

"you know i don't like those parties. i can't be around all those people, especially ones who are drunk." matt snickered at this. "can't be around me, huh? damn." you slap his arm softly, rolling your eyes.

"not you, y'aren't a alcoholic. you drink sometimes and go overboard at times." matt scoffed. "no i don't. y'just saying that so i'll stop." you get taken aback a bit by matt's sudden defensiveness but dismiss it. "you need to take a shower and sleep, you're being a bitch."

matt sat up on his forearms, his face hard as stone. "i'm not. fuck you." he stood up wobbily, heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. you sigh, pulling out your phone and texting chris.

"matt's over again. wanna pick him up or just let him stay here?"

"fuck im sorry nick's staying over w a friend tn and im staying w a girl, ill pick him up tomorrow morning tho. hope he isn't too much of a hastle :/"

"nah hes good just a bit cranky"

matt walked in again, his shirt off but still remaining in his sweats. it looked like he had washed his face and ran his wet hands through his hair before he slid back into your bed next to you, letting his arm fall over your waist.

"y'texting chris?" he mumbles into your shoulder. you nod, humming. "yeah, just let him know you're here." he scoffs a bit. "like he cares. you guys worry way too fucking much. 'm a 21 year old man. fuck outta here with that "caring" bullshit." he sits up, grumbling.

matt had never really spoken to you this way, or even this loudly ever and you wondered where it all suddenly came from.

"you need to chill, matt." you say while playing with the ends of your hair, your eyes flickering to matt's silent self every few seconds. "shut the fuck up, y/n. you don't know shit. we hooked up, what 2 times? been friends for god knows how fuckin' long and you think you know shit about me. you don't. stop actin' like you my girlfriend." matt snaps, turning his upper body towards you.

"i'm just trying to help out-" "i don't need your fucking help. not you, not chris, not nick, not anyone." matt interrupts. he fully looks back at you, his eyes meeting your eyes for the first time that night, genuinely.

you see his eyes glance down to your lips before his eyebrows furrow a bit as it seems like he's searching every part of your face for something neither of you are quite sure of.

"what?" you ask simply. he meets your eyes again, his tough act growing once again. "nothing." he leans back down onto the bed, turning his body facing the other wall. he scoots himself back a bit subconsciously to let his back touch your arm, even slightly.

he doesn't move, and neither do you as the sounds of your breaths filling the quiet room. "im sorry, y/n. i don't mean to be mean. i just don't feel good." he says softly, after some time. he turns his body to face you, his eyes looking over at your figure that was being illuminated by your lamp on your sidetable.

you look over at him, seeing his low eyes examine your face a bit, before he leans in, kissing your lips softly, searching for anything. you kiss him back a bit before turning your head. "you reek of tequila." you laugh a bit and he rolls away, letting out a breathy laugh also.

"whatever. c'mere." he grabbed your jaw a bit tight, bringing your face back to meet his. you kissed back almost immediately, disregarding the reek. he lets his hand fall to your cheek, rubbing it softly.

after some time, matt pulled away. "remember the first time we kissed? when we were 14?" matt said while kissing your neck, bringing up the memory. "yeah, at summer camp. and we promised not to tell anyone or do it again then we made out in your tent later." you giggled, remembering the memory.

-flashback-

summer of 2017. best friends with the sturniolo triplets who invited you to their camp they've been going to since they were 6. it was lunchtime, and you and matt had picked a table somewhat far away from everyone else, something that became normal for the both of you.

this day, matt had taken a red marker from the arts and crafts station. "can i draw on you? just little hearts." matt said, fiddling with the marker in between his fingers. "yeah, go ahead." you said, taking a sip out of your chocolate milk that was somewhat good.

matt began drawing little red hearts and then coloring the inside of them with a bit more pressure to create a darker color against your skin. "i wanna try something." he whispers before leaning down and kissing each individual heart on your arm with such softness.

the movement caught you by such surprise, leaving your breath hitched in your throat, but you couldn't move your arm away. the feeling of him kissing your body felt so nice.

he leaned back up, with a clear marker stain on his lips. "was that okay?" he muttered, to which you immediately nodded to. "yeah, yeah. y'just got a little stain right there. i'll take it off." you pointed to his lips to which you leaned in, kissing him and him kissing back immediately.

you pulled away after a little bit, seeing that the stain had now been on both your lips, yours and his. he giggled seeing this, before leaning in once again.

-flashback over.-

"good times, i'm telling you y/n." he said before snuggling into your neck, wrapping his arm across your waist, pulling you in tightly. "turn off the light, would you?" he muttered. you nodded, leaning up and flicking the off switch.

the night went on smoothly, soft words and giggles being thrown into the air, eventually leading you two to fall asleep, wrapped up in each other, a lot more close and personal then "best friends" should be.

the sun peeked through your curtains, a low groan being emitted from your throat. you stretched, your knuckles hitting your headboard, causing another groan to be made.

you let your eyes open up a bit and noticed a certain emptiness next to you. you knew matt had come over last night and you two did fall asleep next to one another but did he really leave like that? a decision he's made countless times even after sex, promising he wouldn't do it again?

you leaned over to his side to look for anything of a sign of him. a note, a sock, anything. nothing. nothing was left, and it was almost like he wasn't there. you leaned back over, picking up your phone that was still attached to the charger, the time showing 8:37am.

he hadn't even left a text. he just left like the numerous times he had done before. you pulled up your texts with chris, the last being a text from you last night telling how matt had been "cranky."

"hey has matt left to your house? he js left without a word"

chris responded 3 minutes later.

"he left already? i was supposed to pick him up. lemme check his loc hold up"

"he turned it off lemme ask nick gimme a sec"

"nick said matt turned his location for him off too. all at 4:37am ig"

you checked your messages with matt, and it said the same thing.

"matt has stopped sharing their location with you at 4:37am."

he left 4 hours after he had came? where the fuck did he go?

"hey did u get home safe? left without saying anything lol"

matt responded 13 minutes later.

"ya"

"alr just text me later when ur less hungover"

"k"

throughout the day, matt still hasn't said anything. you had seen a couple clips of him from peoples' stories taking shots, smoking, and making out with random girls.

these stories were all on close friends or private stories of these influencers because if the internet had saw, matt would've been fucked.

seeing matt kiss other girls irked something in you, a feeling you know you shouldn't feel. but you did feel it, whether you liked it or not. matt and you were strictly only friends, a relationship was something the both of you couldn't commit to.

matt was known for being a "loverboy" and "the shy triplet" to the internet, but he was the complete opposite off of the screen. he would fuck you like no other, he would make you cry like no one else had, and he would make you laugh the hardest you ever have.

that's what you loved and hated about matt.

you had learned from before not to talk about your place with matt to him, and learned that he literally couldn't care about "aftercare" or whatever that shit was.

the feelings you felt for him had never changed and you continued to look past the toxic self he put on himself. you continued to see him as the guy you used to love when you were a teenager, and the adult who's back you always had, whenever he needed the support.

[archangeldyke-all]

Oooo i have a cowboy sevika ask if you want it 🤲 okay so what if sevika is telling vi or jinx or both a story from one of her outlaw days and reader catches her and is like bro you can not be telling our rambunctious kids about those days bc they are crazy and will just turn around and do that shit…and sev is like but they think im cool now.

yk what i’m sayin? i hope that made sense anyways do whatever ya want I love cowboy sevika so so so much!!

this is so cute GOD

men and minors dni

this weekend, your kid-load has doubled.

caitlyn rode up to visit vi, and benzo asked you to watch after ekko while he takes care of some business a few towns over. it's been great fun. caitlyn and ekko, unlike your own children, have house-manners. ekko's been a huge help keeping the tavern tidy, and cait's been great help in the garden.

what's even better is watching your girls interact with their respective crushes. vi and cait have finally made it out of the awkward giggly phase, and now they're bickering like an old couple at only sixteen. jinx and ekko are still young enough to not quite understand why they like hanging out so much, but you think jinx is starting to get a hint. she's been blushing almost all weekend.

besides your future children-in-laws, you've only got one guest staying in the inn this weekend. you've just finished changing out the sheets and refreshing the water pitchers in their room when you march downstairs to the tavern; only to find your regular ran sneaking behind the bar to make themselves a drink.

"hey!" you shout. ran scurries away guiltily, and you chuckle. "just 'cause you're here most nights doesn't mean you're allowed behind the bar."

"you were taking too long!" they pout. you giggle.

"you couldn't just ask sev?"

ran chuckles and trades you a few coins for the glass you pour for them. "she's busy recounting the 'old days' to your kids." they say, gesturing to where your wife's tucked in a booth with all four of the kids. you groan.

"fuck. that's never good."

"wait! leave the bottle, and gimmie another glass! mel's meetin' me here and she'll need a drink."

you raise an eyebrow at ran, giggling as they blush. looks like your kids aren't the only ones hanging out with their crushes this weekend. "here." you slide a glass and bottle across the bar. you go to run over to your family's booth, before freezing and turning back around to ran. "which story is she telling?"

"something about a bank robbery?"

"oh, fuck!" you whine, sprinting over to the booth, flipping ran off as they cackle.

"...so i hop on shimmers back-- but i'd loaded her up with so many gold bars she almost collapsed when i got on top. she was in no shape to run, and somebody from inside the bank started shootin' at us, so i hop back off, tell shimmer to scram, and then i start running for my fuckin' life--"

"sevika!" you cut in.

five pairs of wide, excited eyes shoot up to look at you. you groan.

jinx is vibrating in excitement at sevika's words, vi's deep in contemplation, like she's trying to plan her own bank robbery, and ekko and cait are staring at sevika with stars in their eyes like they've just met santa claus.

"hey, darlin'." sevika grins up at you, her eyes glittering with fond memories.

you shake your head at her. "you remember that talk we had about family-friendly stories?" you ask.

jinx groans from her seat. "oh c'mon! sevika doesn't have family friendly stories!"

"and she's got so many good adult ones!" vi adds on.

you groan. "you realize you're actively incriminating yourself each time you recount these stories to someone?"

sevika cackles. "oh, c'mon, doll! ekko and cait won't rat on me, right kids?" she asks.

ekko crosses his heart, and caitlyn gasps. "no, never!"

"sevika's the coolest woman in the entire desert!" ekko shouts. you roll your eyes.

"okay, ekko, i take offense to that." you say. ekko laughs.

"me too." jinx huffs.

cait giggles. "you're not a woman yet, jinx."

"yeah, but only because i haven't pulled off a successful bank robbery yet. once i accomplish that i'll be a real grown up."

"no, see, this is what we're trying to avoid!" you whine, smacking sevika's shoulder. she giggles, pulling you down into her lap and peppering kisses on your neck as you rant. "jinx, womanhood has nothing to do with crime."

"not if you're boring." jinx mutters.

"wh-- y-you-- fuck off! tell 'em how the story ends, sev." you demand, smacking your wife's shoulder. she perks up.

"really?!" she asks. you nod, and all your kids grin in excitement. "okay, okay. so. i'm fuckin' bookin' it down mainstreet, there's at least six people shootin' at me, and i'm praying to everything holy that shimmer knows to meet me back at camp." sevika pauses to take a sip of her beer, and cait squeals.

"so, what happened?!"

you can't help but smile a bit.

sevika chuckles and takes a breath. "i got my ass outta dodge and spent the entire night hiking back to my campsite. by the time i got there, i was cold, hungry, and ready to sleep for two weeks."

"was shimmer there?" vi gasps.

sevika chuckles. "'course she was. shimmer's smarter than all of us combined."

"and the gold?" ekko asks. sevika grins.

"made almost a quarter of a million once i melted it down and distributed it."

"that's amazing!" vi shouts.

you elbow sevika. "tell them the real end."

sevika huffs. your kids blink in confusion.

"that wasn't the end?"

"no, that wasn't the end." you say. "what sevika conveniently forgot to mention was the fact that she had not one, not two, but three gunshot wounds. the only reason she lived to trade that gold in was 'cause she ditched it at camp and rode shimmer back here to me. she nearly fuckin' bled out. spent three days asleep upstairs."

you feel a little bad for the way all the fun is sucked out of the conversation. but, you don't regret it. it was the worst week of your life, nursing her back to health like that only for her to ride back out the moment she was healed.

"'s why my arm's so fucked. there's casings embedded all over my left shoulder." sevika says. "woulda died if my baby didn't know how to cauterize a wound."

"and do chest compressions."

sevika gulps behind you. "y-you did?" she asks. you nod.

"what, you didn't know?" you ask.

she shrugs, tears welling up in her eyes. "'s all a blur. i stopped breathing?"

"for the worst five minutes of my fucking life." you say with a nod.

sevika blinks up at you, her love and affection for you evident in her gaze. "you saved my life?" she asks. you're interrupted before you can speak.

"that. is so. fucking. cool!" ekko shouts. you burst into surprised laughter, blinking away from your wife to look at your kids.

their looks of awestruck wonder all shifted from sevika to you. you chuckle.

"what the hell is 'cauterize?' and how do you do it?!" jinx asks, an excited gleam in her eye.

"how much blood did you have to clean?" vi asks with a fascinated look.

"ooooh, yeah, how much blood was there?" cait asks.

sevika nudges her beer against your hand and you snort, kissing her cheek before taking a big gulp.

you let out a little burp, then speak. "alright, one question at a time. and you gotta remember: this was all the consequence of sevika's dumbass bank robbery."

"it was a flawless plan!" sevika whines.

"flawless if you're trying to get killed." ekko scoffs. the kids cackle.

"okay, start with the blood! how much blood was there" jinx demands, tugging at your hand.

you giggle and shrug. "i dunno. a shit ton?" you guess. your kids burst into excited giggles, and sevika presses her smile against your shoulder.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3

[satorusugurugurl]

Geto or Gojo being mean asf in bed😍

Anon, I love you.

Action’s and Consequences!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB Y/N

Word Count: 2,499

Warnings: Mentions of drugging, alcohol consumption, language, rough sex, fighting, Mean!Suguru 🥵

Summary: The morning after a terrible night at the club starts with you and Suguru’s first major fight. A fight that Suguru will make sure you never forget.

“Oh my god! Give me a fucking break!” You yelled behind you as Geto stormed after you. “I made a stupid mistake!”

Geto scoffed, grabbing your arm and hauling you back. “A simple mistake?! You call letting some guy buy you a drink without watching him a simple mistake!? Y/N, he fucking slipped you something!!” You winced, partially from your hangover, and the other half was due to the lack of food in your stomach.

“I was talking to his friend! Just like you were letting THAT skank rub up against you!”

This was the nastiest fight you and Suguru had ever gotten into. You both went out with Satoru and Shoko to a new club. There had been shots involved, lots of shots. And you had been having fun until you spotted a girl rubbing her hand against your boyfriend’s chest, and he just let it happen. So, in retaliation, you started talking to some guy who bought you a drink that just so happened to be laced with something.

If it hadn't been for Satoru, who hates alcohol, the guy would have snuck you to the back. Instead, Satoru rubbed your back while you were in the hall puking your guts out, getting whatever the dick slipped you out of your system. Geto was livid, mainly at the asshole who hurt you.

But he was also mad at you.

The morning had come, and it was not a peaceful morning. It had been a yelling match since you woke up to find Suguru watching you, telling you you needed to talk about what happened. All of this started with him! He let that random bitch touch him. Yet he wanted to blame you!

“You are such a fucking brat!” He snapped, grabbing his jacket. “If you had stopped and watched me, I pulled away the second that girl touched me! All you saw in your drunken haze was a second!” Your nose burned as tears flooded your eyes. “Oh, but you should know how a second works! Because all it took was a second for some guy to drug you!!”

“Geto, I'm not playing your fucking game!!”

“Fine by fuckin’ me!”

Without another word, he stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door in his wake. You screamed in frustration, heading to the bathroom to cool off. Stupid Geto, stupid skank, stupid club! Last night sucked, and today sucked even more.

You wanted to stay angry, to boil with rage. But as you stood in the shower, the hot water running over you, your mind cleared. You didn't watch Suguru when the girl touched him. It happened in a flash. The alcohol made it worse than it was. While the anger consumed you, you made a stupid decision and didn't focus on your safety. You had put yourself in a terrible situation.

It could have turned out worse if Satoru hadn't been watching you as the forever DD.

Thinking back, you grimaced at thinking about what Suguru had gone through. To have his loving girlfriend fine and dandy, and the next she's vomiting a laced drink up? He had every right to be worried and upset when you had nothing to be angry about.

Suguru brought you home, gave you water, and held your head back when you got sick. And the first thing you did was yell at him? All because he wanted to talk (like an adult) about what happened.

God, was this what it felt like to be in the dog house?

After your shower, you got dressed, trying to call your boyfriend. Each attempt went straight to voicemail, and your texts were left on read. Your little fights didn't even count as fights! This was uncharted territory. Because you had never pissed Suguru off like this.

An hour and a half later, the door opens to the apartment, and you run for the door. Suguru places two cups of coffee on the table and a sack from the convenience store. He says nothing as he chucks his jacket off, draping it over the couch.

You swallow hard, stepping towards him. “S-Sugu is that coffee for me.” All you get is a nod. “I uhm, thank you.” Another nod. God, you hated the cold shoulder! You didn't want to keep fighting! “Suguru, can we talk please?” Dark eyes finally dart towards you.

“I thought you didn't want to play my games?”

“I-I was mad this morning when I should have shut my mouth.” Your voice was nearly inaudible. “I thought you were letting girls touch you.”

“No, you assumed girls were touching me.” Suguru clarified as he towered over you. “When I have been faithful and loyal to you since day one! But you, you let some guy buy you a drink, you allowed him the chance to hurt you!”

His words stung, but they were true. “I'm sorry, I was wrong. I put myself in a terrible position. All because I was jealous.” tears hit the floor as you finally looked up at Suguru with a sniffle. “I'm so sorry. Please give me another chance. I'll never let it happen again, Suguru.” Seeing you cry, hearing you apologize and own up for what happened, well, it left Suguru somewhat satisfied.

But he was still pissed.

“I hate it when people look at you like you're some meal for the taking. I hate it even more when you allow them to buy you a drink and drug you.” He lifted your chin with his forefinger, his eyes glancing at your neck. “Maybe I need to collar you and keep you on a fucking leash.”

His words were like ice, but there was a fire in his eyes. One you were familiar with. “I-If that would make you feel better, that's fine.”

"Maybe that'll make me feel better," Suguru growled, wrapping his hand around your throat as he looked into your eyes. "Maybe that's what I need. Total control. Make you mine in every sense of the word." He slowly smirked. "Yeah. That's it."

“O-Okay. . .yeah, I like the sound of that.”

The second he had your consent, his lips feverishly crashed against your own, kissing you deeply. Suguru pulled back a moment later, looking at your flushed face with a snark before kissing you again. Fuck you tasted so good, and the way you willingly submitted to him was almost too much for him to handle.

The intensity of the kiss and his hand gripping your throat. It made your pussy throb with unfiltered need. He was never this mean and rough, and holy hell. You liked it.

Feeling you melt against him has Suguru growling in need. "What? You like this, don't you?" He nipped at your neck, making sure he marked you. “Like me getting mad at you.”

You couldn't respond. All you managed to do was whine. And Suguru didn't like that. His hand gripped your throat, squeezing gently. "I asked you if you liked it bitch.”

Your eyes widened as you gasped for air. Tears spilling down your flushed cheeks. “Y-Yes, I like it when you're mad!” He let go of his hand on you, allowing it to simply hover over your sensitive throat.

"Now tell me if it was a lie. Do you like this?"

You whined, realizing he wasn't going to let up. “Yes! I'm telling you the truth, Sugu!”

Suguru grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "Yeah? God, what a nasty slut you are, Y/N." He quickly pulled your shirt up, diving into your tits, massaging them with both hands as he kissed and nipped at your hardening nipples.

Seeing Suguru like this, feral and angry, wanting to put you in your place. That was the only foreplay you would have needed. God, it was so hot.

Noticing your glazed-over eyes, Suguru let go moments later, sliding his hands down to pull your shorts and panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Lucky me,” his eyes trailed over you, “I’m dating the prettiest bitch in the world~" He purred.

Biting your lip, you watched him. “Thank you.” Your thighs glistened with slick, and seeing that Suguru dragged you to the bedroom.

He threw you onto the mattress, grabbing both your legs and pressing them against your chest. Fully exposing your cunt for him to see in all its dripping glory. You turned red, your hand covering your face at his rough actions.

“W-What are you doing?” You squeaked out, peeking at him through your fingers.

"I told you I was going to make you mine," Suguru grumbled, reaching down, tugging down the hem of his sweatpants, tucking them under his balls. “My naughty slutty girlfriend doesn’t listen to me." He growled softly as he leaned down, kissing and biting at your neck again. It always made you melt, and he wanted to feel it again before he fucked you stupid.

You sighed breathlessly, shivering and melting against him. Mewls escaped your lips as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Mnngh, f-fucking fuck shit.” You sometimes hated how sensitive your neck was, and now that he knew it, you were clay in his hands.

Suguru held you down with one hand while sliding the other down to wrap around his cock, positioning it to a tight entrance. "Are you ready to be fucked into submission?~" He asked as he slid the tip inside of you.

Tilting your head back, you whine at the stretch. “F-Fuck.” You never would get over how big he was. “Suguru.” You tried looking at your conjoined bodies.

Suguru moaned, slowly sliding further inside of you. You could feel his hips trembling. He was holding back. Making sure he didn’t hurt you.

You stared at him in shock. “Fuck me.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Y-You said you were going to make me yours. .that you were going to fuck me stupid.”

Suguru’s movement ceased as his

eyes widened, focused on you before an evil smile split across his face, and he slammed into you. "Fuck yeah-!!"

You dug your nails into his back. Eyes widening, as your mouth fell in an ‘O’ shape, all the air was fuvked out of your lungs.

Hissing at the scratches down his back, Suguru growled, the pain egging him on. He thrusted hard into you, quickly setting a dominating rhythm, ruining your insides with his massive cock. "Fucking-Fuck-! Such good fucking pussy. Too bad my girlfriend was a little shit last night. Or this could have been romantic~" He growled out. “Instead, I have to fuck some common fucking sense into her!”

Tears started to pour down your cheeks at the overstimulation. Before a sob could escape, Suguru gently slapped your cheek. "Nuh huh bitch, you're the one who told me to fuck you like I meant it, Princess~" He growled, one hand sliding down to rub your clit.

You whimpered and arched your back, “I-I know! I'm sorry! So sorry!.” You cried out while staring up at the ceiling.

“Tsk,” Suguru grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You're mine." He thrust harder into your tight pussy. "You're mine because I want you, Y/N. I fucking wanted you the second I saw you."

“Y-Yes!.” That was all you managed to say. “Yes, I’m yours.” You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“If you ever let some stranger buy you a drink again, I won't be as fuckin’ nice. I love you, dumbassdont fuckin’ forget it! No one else but you!”

“Yes! I'm sorry it won't happen again!”

Suguru groaned, leaning down and biting your neck as he felt the coil in his stomach tightening. It was your grip around his cock that tightened with the bite that sent him over the edge. He started to fill you up, his cum painting your walls white.

You lay there panting softly as you felt his cum filling you up. “F-Fuck.” you breathed out, relaxing against the bed. Still buried inside of you, you looked down to see his entire torso, rippling muscles covered in sweat.

"You didn't cum."

Suguru throbbed inside of you, his cock pressing against your G-spot as he bent down to get closer to your face. "You're going to fuckin’ cum. Sure, I'm ticked off, but I’m not a sadistic asshole.” When you didn't respond, he sighed before reaching over to the bedside table and grabbing your vibrator. He turned it on the highest setting, pressing it against your clit right away. "Now be a good girl for once and cum."

“A-Ah! Sensitive Suguru!” You started rocking against him, nipples hard as you watched him. “Feels good, though~!!”

Suguru growled as he slowly rocked into you. "That's it~" He reached with his free hand, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers.

Within seconds, whether it was the fact that you liked seeing Suguru so mad or the sex was just so good, his actions made you gush around his cock. The intensity of it made you scream, gripping the pillow behind you as your legs shook.

Feeling you cum around him was enough to have his cock filling you up with his cum for the second time this morning; globs of your combined juices seeped around his girth. "Shit-!"

You were shaking, eyes glazed over with pleasure. Just as you released your grip on the pillow. Suguru held you firmly against him before he slowly pulled out of you, leaning down and kissing you deeply. It was a vivid contrast to the man that just fucked you stupid, but it was also sweet and very much like Suguru.

“Don't ever scare me like that again. You got lucky last night Y/N.”

The guilt began to rise in your chest again. “I know I'm sorry. Truly, I am Sugu.” His eyes bore into yours. “I'm sorry.” he pressed another kiss against your lips.

“I'm sorry I didn't protect you.”

“Suguru, you don't have to apologize. You took great care of me last night.” he hummed, stroking your hair. “Please don't beat yourself up.”

“I won't if you don't.”

“Ah,” you giggled, shaking your head, “you would play that card.” You ran your hands over his shoulders.

“Yeah, just shut up and relax. You need to get all the rest you can.” there was a certain smugness in his tone. One that reminded you of your high school days.

You blinked, pulling back to stare at Suguru. “Why?”

“Because you owe Satoru a favor for saving you. And you'll be taking my place at the Sweets-Expo he wants to visit in Kyoto next weekend.”

“Just me and Satoru?” You gulped.

“For an entire weekend. And you know Satoru, he's going to visit every single vendor.” He smirked, hearing your audible groan. “Suffer.”

“Is it too late to ask you to stay mad at me?”

Suguru grinned against your skin. “That boat sailed the second you apologized when I got home.” he kissed your collarbone, savoring your groan of defeat.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Nine: I'd Fall for You Twice if That's What You Wanted

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Sarah, Tommy, Emily, and JB unknowingly banding together for the win. Joel is his own warning. Inappropriate (or entirely appropriate?) use of a massager. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Eight | Main Masterlist

“Girl, you’ve got it baaad,” Emily teased, watching you eye your phone every five seconds. The pair of you were getting drinks at your favorite watering hole the Saturday before your first full week of officially teaching.

“I can’t help it, Em. He’s got this, like, hold over me or something,” you replied sheepishly, one hand tucking your phone away in your back pocket. You were starting to annoy yourself with how often you checked for texts from Joel.

“You’re in love, that’s what happens.” Emily shrugged and sipped at her fruity mixed drink. “How’d the holidays go?”

Your expression lit up as you told Emily about your first major holidays with the Millers. Having spent some holidays with them while you were still away at school, your dad already fit into their family dynamic seamlessly. You were a happy and much-loved addition to the festivities and there was plenty of laughter among the adults at how badly Tommy botched dinner for both Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why Joel and your dad ever let him try again after the wreck that was Thanksgiving dinner was beyond you. Thankfully, your dad saved the day both times with his unparalleled grilling skills.

“So, it’s safe to say that JB’s still happy about you and Joel being together?” Emily asked after your own laughter at recounting the mess died down.

“Is he ever,” you replied with a shake of your head. “He loves to rib Joel on making an honest woman out of me. Joel takes it in stride, but I’m kinda afraid that it’ll scare him off if my dad keeps it up.”

“Oh, please! That man is clearly head over fuckin’ heels for you. Hell, he’s already told you and JB that he loves you, he’s not goin’ anywhere!” After taking another sip of her drink, Emily shot you a pointed look. “When the hell am I gonna meet Joel, anyway? I feel like you’re actively hiding him from me.”

You stilled.

Were you doing that? You didn’t think so, not at first, but… If you were honest with yourself, there was an element of truth to Emily’s accusation.

“Shit, Em. I’m not doing it purposefully, I swear,” you replied beseechingly, pausing to figure out how to properly explain things. Finding a scratch in the tabletop suddenly fascinating, you stared at it while continuing. “I just have to share him so much already, between Sarah and my dad, even his brother – not that I begrudge him spending time with any of them, especially Sarah! It’s just… when I have time with him, I want to keep him to myself. You know what I mean?”

God, that made you sound so selfish. You looked up to find Emily grinning at you.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I’ve never seen you so in love. It looks good on you.” Emily clinked her now empty glass against your half-full one. “Just promise me that I’ll get to meet him soon. We could do a double date or something, so it doesn’t take away too much of your precious alone time.”

Over another round of drinks, you made plans for a few Fridays from now, quietly hoping Joel wouldn’t mind.

Heading home, you longed to see Joel, but it was late, and he was spending time with Sarah. He went to great lengths to make sure his daughter did not feel left out or neglected while the two of you explored your relationship, setting aside time for just the two of them to hang out. You loved that about him and knew how important that quality time was for Sarah. Besides, you planned to head over there tomorrow to get a little quality time of your own ahead of the busy week ahead.

In the morning, you slept in and lazed around the house for a while, taking the opportunity to relax and ease into your day while your dad puttered around until mid-day. You hadn’t heard from Joel, but that didn’t bother you – he knew you planned to come over. Around one o’clock, you headed over to the Millers, picking up some pizza and beer on the way.  

Pulling up in front of the house, you found your usual spot in the driveway taken by your dad’s truck while Tommy’s truck blocked the remaining space. With a huff you parked along the curb. You would have ordered more pizza if you knew everyone would be here.

“Howdy boys,” you greeted as you walked in. “I come bearing pizza and beer, though I fear we’ll need lots more with this crew.”

Only one set of eyes turned away from the football game playing on TV as they all greet you in return. Getting up from his beloved corner spot on the couch, Joel took the pizza and beer from your hands and placed them on the coffee table before pulling you into the kitchen for a proper greeting.

“Hi darlin’, I’ve missed you,” Joel murmured, his voice already raspy from yelling at the TV. He pulled you close until your bodies were flush together and kissed you deeply. Like a magnet, your fingers threaded through his messy curls, tugging gently as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Mmm, I missed you, too, handsome. Didn’t know you were having company.”

Joel flashed his big cow eyes at you, eyebrows pinched together regretfully. “’M sorry, baby. I didn’t know they were coming by to watch the game ‘til they got here. Apparently, my TV is the best, so here they are. Hope that’s ok. I’ll kick ‘em right the hell out if you want me to.”

The thought did cross your mind.

“Nah, enjoy the game with the boys. I’ll sit with you guys for a bit then hang with Sarah until they leave.” Still wrapped in each other’s arms, you nuzzled the tanned skin of Joel’s neck and he hummed.

“You gonna stay over?”

You shouldn’t, not on a school night – your first as a bona fide teacher – but you had so little time together. “Sure. Just don’t keep me up too late, Mister. Those kids are exhausting, and I need my energy for the first day.”

“Miller! Stop neckin’ with my daughter and get your ass out here!” your dad’s voice bellowed through the house, causing the two of you to spring apart.

“Jesus, Dad,” you sighed, pecking Joel on the lips one last time before following him out to the living room. When would the game be over?

Surprisingly, you enjoyed the time watching the game with everyone. Even Sarah came down to join you all at half-time, book in hand, and sat between you and Joel reading. It was a lovely afternoon and a lovelier night as Joel held you in his arms, whispering words of praise into your hair until you fell into a deep slumber.

Your first week of teaching passed in a blur. After a month of assisting the prior teacher before his official retirement, the students knew you and respected your authority, setting the stage for an overall lovely experience. You started off with earth science lessons and most of the kids were engaged and eager to learn. Of course, you had a few little challenges with difficult students testing their boundaries, but you felt good about the way you handled each situation.

You stayed later after the students were dismissed, using the time to organize the room to your liking and get the lesson plans in order. Sarah perched at one of the long wooden tables working on her homework while you completed your tasks. The pattern offered you and Sarah some quality time together and the young girl found great enjoyment in putting you on the spot, especially when her dad was the topic at hand.

“JB keeps telling dad he needs to marry you,” Sarah blurted randomly Friday afternoon. “Do you want to?”

Staring at her wide-eyed, unsure what to say, you merely shrugged. Why was everyone so focused on the two of you getting married? You only started dating a few months ago!

Tilting her head to the side with a little smirk, Sarah replied, “That’s not a ‘no’.”

She was getting to be as bad as your dad and Tommy.

“You could be my stepmom! I always wanted one since I didn’t get to have a regular mom.”

Despite Sarah’s cheerfulness at the idea, your heart ached for all the real mom-related experiences she didn’t get to have. You knew exactly how that felt. If marrying Joel wasn’t already something you hoped for in the future, it would be after hearing Sarah expressing her desire for a stepmom, for you as a stepmom.

Sarah kept talking, while you lost yourself in thought.

Would you be a good stepmom?

God, you hoped so.

You never had one, JB chose to never get too serious with anyone after your mom, but you heard enough horror stories from your friends about their own stepmoms through the years. It sounded like a thankless job. But all the people you knew with stepparents had both birth parents still in their lives, so maybe your experience would be different.

The late bell chimed, drawing you out of your ever-spiraling thoughts.

“Come on, nugget. Let’s get you home,” you said, pushing thoughts of marriage and step parenthood to the farthest recesses of your mind.

“If you’re not gonna marry my dad, could you at least move in with us? It would be so great if you lived with us!”

Jesus fucking Christ in a handbasket. This kid sure knew how to keep you on your toes.

Leaning over the bar top with hunched shoulders and an aching back, Joel picked at the label on the beer bottle. He didn’t often visit the bar after work, not since Sarah came into his life, but he finally had some extra money and felt like treating himself. You stopped letting him pay you months ago, when the two of you became more to each other than just babysitter and boss, and he stashed that money away each week, saving it for what he didn’t know.

At his side, Tommy carried on about some chick he met a few weeks ago. A pretty attorney who was way out of his league and already turned him down twice. Like a dog with a bone, Tommy showed no signs of giving up yet.

“You better be careful, brother. She may get a restraining order against you if you don’t take it easy,” Joel said, voice a rich rumble.

Tommy waved him off with a chortle. “Oh please. She’s loving it. Chicks like that like being pursued.”

“If you say so.” Joel didn’t know this woman or what she liked, but he knew for a fact that you would hate it if a guy relentlessly pursued you after turning him down, not once, but twice. He smiled at the thought of you kicking a guy like that in the fucking balls to prove that you were very much not interested.

He full on laughed at the thought of you kicking his little brother in the balls, causing Tommy to glance sideways at him.

“What’s so funny, huh?”

“Nothin’,” Joel grumbled, clearing his throat. Thoughts of you continued to invade his mind, just like they always did. You were always on his mind, and he loved it. If only you were always in his bed… Joel cleared his throat. “Hey, uh. How do you know if it’s too early to ask a girl to move in?”

Tommy groaned. “Why you always askin’ me this shit? How am I supposed to know? I have less actual relationship experience than you do.”

“Who else am I supposed to ask, huh? JB? Don’t imagine that’d go over too well,” Joel replied with a defeated shrug, but Tommy conceded the point.

“You need more friends, man.” Clearing his throat, Tommy gave it a moment’s thought. “Well, the way I see it, you love her, and she loves you, everyone knows it, and JB and Sarah are both happy for the two of you. Moving in together seems like the logical next step, right?”

Joel nodded, still uncertain.

“Only the two of you can know if the pace is right. Seems to me like you both waited long enough for the right one to come along. You’ve both been through some shit, why waste any more time?”

Damn, when did his little brother become so insightful?

“Alright, I get your point. Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask?” As secure as he was in your love for each other, Joel still floundered a bit at each new step in the relationship department.

“I dunno, brother. You’re just gonna have to grow a pair and find out.”

“Fuckin’ grow a pair,” Joel grumbled, punching Tommy in the arm, hard.

The pair bickered through another round, like brothers do, before calling it an evening. Eager to see you and Sarah, Joel didn’t want to waste away the evening in the bar with Tommy. As they walked out to their trucks, Tommy stopped Joel with a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, brother. In all seriousness, I think she’ll say yes, so just ask, ok?”

Joel nodded his thanks and confirmed plans for watching the game at his place on Sunday, before climbing into his truck. The trip home didn’t take long, and for that Joel was grateful. His back ached after a busy week of hard labor followed by an hour sitting hunched over the bar. He’d kill for a massage.

The house was quiet when he walked in, no sign of you or Sarah on the ground floor. Kicking off his work boots and dropping the truck keys onto the hook near the door, Joel slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

Light flooded into the hall from Sarah’s bedroom, the sound of giggles and low voices echoing in the air. He moved slowly, quietly, until he could just peek around the door jamb. You sat on Sarah’s bed, the little girl perched in front of you, as you braided her wiry curls.

The sight melted Joel’s insides into a gooey puddle.

This. This was exactly what he wanted to come home to everyday.

He had to ask you to move in.

Just as he straightened up with a silent groan, ready to enter the room, Sarah’s sweet little voice left him frozen in place.

“I think you’d make the best stepmom.”

“This again,” you griped playfully. “You do, huh? Why?”

Was this something Sarah brought up before? Joel held his breath, waiting for Sarah’s response.

“Because you love my dad and you love me, you’re always kind even when things go wrong, you’re smart, and you like spending time with me. But most of all, because you do the things a mom does even though you’re not my mom and you don’t have to.”

He caught your gasp even though you tried to hide it from Sarah. You were as affected by Sarah’s heartfelt, innocent confession as he was. His adorable, sweet little girl knew you’d make a great stepmom and he agreed with all her reasons. If possible, he fell further in love with you in that moment after seeing you through his daughter’s eyes.

“Well, you’re right, nugget. I do love you and your dad, and I hope that one day, when the time is right, I can be your stepmom. Until then, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing, ok? I’ll still love you to pieces even without the official title.”

You choked out the words, on the verge of tears, and Joel felt his own eyes begin to water. Unable to bear it any longer, he swept through the doorway and pulled you both against his chest in a big bear hug. His precious girls. He loved you both more than words could express.

“Daddy! You’re squeezing too tight! Imma burst!” Sarah shrieked with laughter as he tossed her onto the bed and began tickling her with one hand, his other still holding your close.

“Did you…” Your eyes searched his, a hint of worry hiding in their depths, and Joel grinned, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I heard it all,” Joel confirmed, confidence bolstered knowing you wanted to marry him at some point. Conveying every feeling held in his heart through his eyes, he added, “Move in with us. Please.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between his, searching for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, darlin’.”

The three of you celebrated with ice cream after you agreed to move in with them before putting Sarah to bed. By then, Joel’s back ached something fierce and you offered to use the message gun he forgot he had.

“Lay face down on the bed, my love,” you directed, watching with adoration as he tugged the shirt over his head, jeans hanging low on his hips. The muscles rippled in his arms and back as he settled on the soft mattress. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Joel murmured, huffing when you climbed over him to straddle his ass.

Turning on the massage gun, you put it on the middle setting and pressed the ball against the flesh of his traps. Even through the device, you could feel how tight those muscles were. It must be where he held his tension. Over the next half hour, you worked the massager over his back, soaking in the grunts that bordered on pain and relief. Somewhere along the way, the groans turned pleasurable, and Joel rolled onto his back, leaving you to straddle his thighs as the bulge in his jeans grew.

Joel’s hands moved to undo the button on his jeans, but you batted his hand away with a mischievous grin. With wide, wondrous eyes, he watched you adjust the setting on the massager and run it along the seam of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he hissed, cock twitching with interest at the vibration. “Don’t stop.”

Hands gripping your hips, he bucked up into the delightful buzz of the massager, a steady stream of moans falling from his lips as the vibrations spread from his balls upwards to the head of his cock. Fuck, if it felt that good through his jeans, how good would it feel directly on his cock?

“Do you want me to increase the speed setting?” you purred, pressing the massager harder against him.

“Oh God, fuck. Yes… ungh. Please.” The words fell from his lips in a series of whimpers as you adjusted the settings. Within moments, he moaned a bit too loudly and came in his pants. You didn’t let up on the pressure though, the vibration drawing out his orgasm until every last drop of his load was blown and his body nearly convulsed with the overstimulation.

Chest heaving, he watched you switch off the massager and run your fingers along the large wet spot on his jeans, his cock twitching tiredly in response.

“That was fucking sexy,” you murmured, enthralled with the mess you just made of him.

“Yeah? Lemme see that thing. Think it’s my turn now, pretty girl.”

Tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

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@deninoe @casssiopeia @caitlynsixxx @skysmiller @missladym1981

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[thebearer]

could you do a subtle (maybe teering on mid/heavy) dominance with carm and they’re getting ready for bed ? ( you don’t have to do getting ready for bed it just the first thing that came to mind) anyways thanks in advance !!



You walked through the door, shedding your clothes with each step. "I can not fucking wait to get in this bed, and I swear to God I'm not leaving it all day tomorrow." You huffed, flinging a shoe then the other towards the closet door.

Carmen snorted lightly, setting down his phone to look at you. "Yeah? Sounds good t'me, baby. You know I won't stop you." He grinned, lazy and sweet, your chest feeling with warmth.

You rolled your eyes lightly, bending over to shimmy out of your jeans. Carmen's eyes were trained on you, tongue running over his bottom lip. "Was the dinner that bad?" He asked. He got his answer with how hard you flung the jeans towards the hamper.

"The worst, Carm." You huffed, falling dramatically on the bed beside him. "I don't understand what the purpose of a work dinner even is. We didn't even fucking work, and the food was so disgusting, I couldn't even eat it-"

"-Hold on." Carmen held up his hand, eyes cutting to you. "You didn't eat? You didn't eat at all?"

You huffed, an eye roll of a sigh that had Carmen's brow raising at you. "No, Carmy, I didn't eat. It was disgusting. I couldn't even fake it. Plus, with how much Tonya was talking, I didn't really get a chance."

"Baby, that's not..." Carmen was already rolling out of bed.

"Carmen." You groaned, rolling over to the other side of the bed. "I'm fine. I'll be alright."

"You're hungry." Carmen insisted, one look at you and he could see the way you paused, just a passing second, but it was enough for him to know he was right. "What do you want to eat, huh? I've got a left over sandwich in the fridge or-or I can make you somethin'."

"I'll be fine, Carmy, please." You whined, pushing up on your arms to watch him pad down the hall. "Come back to bed. I just wanna sleep."

"I'm not letting you go to bed on an empty stomach. I know you haven't eaten shit since this morning," True. "And I know you didn't drink any water today, and you'll wake up all sad and sick tomorrow and be in a terrible fuckin' mood." Also true. Carmen knew it, the finality of his voice told you that.

"I will not." You pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest.

"I'm not arguin' with you about this." Carmen's tone was firm- final. It sent chills down your spine, thighs pressing together. "So what did Tonya talk about?"

"Her kids. One wants to be a chef and she was asking me pointers, like I would know." You rolled your eyes, shimmying your body half off the bed to grab one of Carmen's shirts- your favorite one to sleep in, slipping it over your body.

"Tell her to tell them to not fuckin' do it, that's my advice." Carmen muttered, a plate clattering on the counter.

You could feel the guilt settling in your tummy, in a deep pit that had you fidgeting. The guilt of Carmen taking care of you, when you'd been to careless to do it yourself. You knew he didn't mind but it still made you feel a little uneasy, even when he brought the sandwich in, glass of water in his free hand.

"You really didn't have to do that, Carmy. I was fine." You muttered, looking at the plate in front of you.

"Stop." Carmen shook his head at you. "Eat, alright? Don't need to be goin' all day without eatin'. You know that."

"I could afford to miss a meal, I promise. I'd be alright." Though your tone was teasing, playing on the edge of a joke, Carmen found it anything but funny.

"What did you just say?" Carmen's eyes were hard, cutting like his tone. You paused, looking at him carefully. It was a tone he rarely used, saved it for the kitchen. Only bringing it out on times when he was really upset.

"I was just-"

"Don't you ever let me hear you say some shit like that again, you hear me?" Carmen's jaw flexed, shaking his head at you. You could feel the warmth spreading from your cheeks to your chest. Embarrassment? Maybe at being chastised like that. But judging by the dull ache between your legs, you knew it was probably something else.

"Eat your food." Carmen nodded, still firm but with a softer edge this time.

You didn't argue, his tone was final, you were hungry, and, fuck, was that sandwich good. A classic Italian sub with a positively Carmy twist on it. Carmen waited until you finished your water- after having to remind you to finish it with so much as a sigh and a "there's that much left, just drink it f'me please?"- pulling you under the covers with him to listen to the rest of your dinner.

You felt better. Soured attitude dissipated and the dull headache forming behind your eyes was gone, no longer thudding with every beat of your heart.

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Jealous Ex!Katsuki x Fem!Reader

A/N: this is totally not based off of how i wish my ex acted when i had a creep hitting on me ha.

MDNI - SMUT BELOW CUT.

WARNINGS: ANGST/COMFORT, SLEAZY CREEP, HURT, UNPROTECTED SEX, RECONCILIATION SEX, DRUNK SEX

-

It’s been six months. And I’m one drink down for every month since he left me. So I really shouldn’t feel as sick as I do when a random wraps their arm around my waist.

He tugs me into his scrawny, shirtless figure and my stomach lurches.

Everything smells of stale cigarette smoke. 

This is wrong.

Gently I push the stranger off, wandering back towards the bar. A tired smile from the bartender greets me.

“Hi lovely,” I smile, jumping up on the barstool.

“What can I do for you babes?” The small person hums, mousy hair flopping across their face.

“Can you make me another one of those yummy cocktails? Y’know, the one with the fireball and the-” I start, leaning inwards.

“The one that tastes like autumn?” They finish, a knowing smile.

“Yes!” I can feel my head slosh as I nod. Maybe I’m more tipsy than I thought. 

Unwanted arms twist around my waist yet again.

“Hey pretty,” Unkempt long hair tickles my shoulder. Hot breath on my neck. 

“I’m gonna go back to dancing,” I excuse myself, untangling us. Clutching my drink, I weave in and out of the crowd. The warmth is more uncomfortable than it was before, sticky and clammy.

A pain in my shoulder, my drink wasted on myself and the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry” I start, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

“Hey, watch where you’re-” A voice, so familiar it hurts. Low, and consistently gravelly.

“y/n.” Shock changes his tone. Aggression turns soft. My heart squeezes.

Six months.

Six months and I’m still so undeniably in love with Bakugou Katsuki it hurts me.

“Hi,” I mumble, eyes trained on my hands.

He clears his throat and my eyes can’t help but follow the noise. 

Rubies.

I always said his eyes were rubies.

Not the blood of his enemies, like Kaminari so often joked.

Rubies.

Warmth and pain mixes inside of me, and I find myself biting my tongue.

I love you.

It would be so easy to say.

“Aww did you spill ya drink pretty? ‘S okay, I’ll get you another one.” Cigarette overtakes my smell and I do everything not to gag.

“Um, I’m actually gonna head home.” Shaking the man off yet again, I go to turn around.

“Ooh, ready for some fun are we? Lead the way, beautiful.” Hands around my waist, and my throat closes.

“No.” I shake my head, squirming out of his arms yet again.

“Aww, but baby” His arms are tighter this time, face nuzzled into my neck.

“Oi, she told you to fuck off.” Katsuki steps forward, and I go to turn my head.

“Ha, you’re just jealous that I’m gonna get somma this tonight.” Wet warmth trails up my neck and I cringe away.

Stifling hold is suddenly tugged away.

“She’s not interested, dickhead. Now fuck off before I make you.” Katsuki’s voice is grim, fearless. All I can focus on is wiping the saliva off my neck.

“Fuckin fine. She’s not that cute anyway.” I hear a huff becoming more and more distant.  

Another arm. New, but old; drapes across my shoulders.

“Gonna walk you home to make sure no more creeps try’nd attack you.” Katsuki mumbles, gently guiding me through the crowd.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

The outside air is cold, drawing me closer to the man’s core heat. Small sparks on my shoulder act as a radiator.

The walk is quiet, and my head swims too much to understand if its comfortable or uncomfortable. 

Only when we reach my apartment, does his warm arm leave me. 

As if it’s muscle memory, he lifts up the pot plant; grabbing the spare key and letting us in. Kicking off my shoes, I wander towards the next best warmth I can get.

My bed is cushy, a welcome comfort.

Katsuki enters not too long after, water and toast in hand.

“You need to eat before you sleep,” He says, plopping down next to me.

Rubies, full of warmth.

“Why are you being so nice?” I mumble, eyes stinging.

I miss this. I miss him.

“Cause I fucked up,” He whispers.

“What did you do this time, Bakugou?” I sigh, picking up the glass.

“I hurt someone because I didn’t want them to hurt me first.”

My heart hitches.

“But then I realised that all I did was hurt both of us, for no goddamn reason.”  The water splashes against the sides of the glass as I tremble uncontrollably.

“She won’t even say my name anymore.” The grief is heavy in his voice, breaking it gently. And I can’t hold back my tears.

“You said you didn’t love me anymore,” My voice warbles past the lump in my throat.

“I knew you could do better,” He mumbles, picking at the duvet he helped me choose.

“I don’t want better!” I cry, gripping the glass.

“I want you.” Glancing over, I can’t help but stare.

Bakugo Katsuki does not cry.

Yet diamonds fall from rubies.

“Then be mine again. Please.” He whispers, voice catching. 

And all I can do is nod.

Coolness of glass leaves my hands. Warmth cradles my cheeks.

“Thank you baby,” His lips meet mine, and I’m home. 

Home tastes like cheap cola from the bar. 

Home is our teeth clashing as we smile through tears and kisses. 

Home is my fingers twisting through staticy blond.

“I missed you so much,” I whisper against his jaw.

“Missed you more.” Strong arms pull me effortlessly into his lap. His hands stay on my hips, tracing gentle circles.

“Lemme show you how much I missed you.” Katsuki asks, tugging me impossibly closer. Kisses tickle down my neck, and my entire body floods with adoration.

“Please,” I nuzzle into his hair, savouring the closeness. I jerk my neck away as he gently bites exactly where he knows I hate.

“Katsuki,” I whine, shoving his face away. A warm chuckle reverberates through his chest. The sound is contagious, making bubbles in my chest.

“You’re an ass,” I bite back my smile, gentling pushing him further.

“Yeah, but I’m your ass.” He mumbles, pulling me back in. Arms push me down, feeling him grow beneath me.

My body clenches excitedly, as familiar hands start tracing up my stomach.

“Take this stupid thing off,” His voice vibrates against my neck, as he tugs at the hem of my top.

“Hm,” I muse loudly, deciding to have some fun. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You little shit,” He growls fondly, pushing the top up as his hands wander further. A gentle squeeze to my breasts is all I need to continue my attack on his jaw.

“But I’m your little shit,” I mock inbetween kisses. I feel his jaw clench beneath my touch.

“Alright, thats it.” He huffs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

Suddenly, I’m off his lap; the bed bouncing at my sudden shift in weight. The bubbles in my chest build until they burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s my pretty woman,” Katsuki smiles, eyes soft. Gently, he fully removes my top. And then his own.

The warmth of skin on skin is a comfort I’ve missed oh so much. 

Obviously, Katsuki missed it just as much; face disappearing into the valley between my breasts. 

Soft kisses leave pins and needles, and I reach for his hand. In an instant, our fingers are interlocked.

Like he never left.

I revel in the moment, using my free hand to trace patterns on his shoulders.

Small sparks greet my skin as his other hand massages my thigh. I feel myself dampen at the closeness - leaning into his touch.

“You sure you want this pretty woman? You’re still tipsy,” Its so odd, hearing such soft words from such a hardened, aggressive man. 

“Please, Kats” I breathe, moving my hand to his hair. A hum of agreement, and his loving assault continues.

I keep tracing patterns, unintentionally digging down as his hands get close to where I want them - no - need them to be.

A ghost of a touch, and I’m pushing myself up to meet him.

“Missed me that bad, did we?” He scoffs in amusement, fingers circling my clothed clit.

“Like you’re one to talk,” I mumble, cheeks heating. Softly grinding on me, my breath hitches.

“Sorry baby, but I’m not waiting anymore,” He whispers, pulling my panties off; his boxers following suit.

Rubies bore into me, sparkling with adoration.

And suddenly, pain and pleasure all in one.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You can take it.” Katsuki praises as he thrusts in. I blink through watery eyes, nodding.

The movement is slow at first, just until the pain falls away. 

Then, its relentless. 

The sound of skin on skin echoes through my small apartment, going at an unholy speed. My toes scrunch as I’m sent into ecstasy.

“See how much I missed you?” Hands grasp my hair, moving my head to the side to leave kiss after kiss.

“See how much I love you?” He grunts into my neck, suckling right near my jaw. Words fail, leaving me only able to whimper in response.

“Yeah that’s right,” He whispers to me, fastening his pace. More whines bubble past my lips.

“Love you so much, never gonna leave again, you hear that?” His words a near hiss, nipping my neck gently.

“Kats, kats, please,” I beg, gripping onto him for dear life. My stomach coils, and I don’t know how long I’ll last.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” He encourages, pushing deeper, faster.

I break, legs spasming as I gush.

But Kastuki doesn’t stop.

Instead, he pushes my ankles up near my ears - keeping his relentless pace. Tears spill over my cheeks at the overstimulation.

“Just a little longer, okay?” He promises, hot breath painting my thighs. I nod frantically, practically melting into the bed.

But the coil tightens again, and I can’t help but squirm.

“Come on, together this time. Where do you want me?” Katsuki asks, somehow pumping harder.

“Inside,” I croak through tears. It’s too much.

An eyebrow raises.

“You wan’t me to make you a mama, that it?” He huffs, beads of crystalline sweat coating his brow.

“Mhm,” I whine, clenching at the thought.

“Fuck, y/n.” He grunts, burying himself into me.

Warmth floods me, and my blond lover collapses ontop of me.

“Love you so much, Katsuki,” I whisper, tangling my hands through his hair. I press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Love you more, dumbass.” He sighs, kissing wherever he can reach. 

-BONUS-

“I guess this means you’re reinvited to Tsu and ‘Chako’s wedding.” I hum, scratching his head.

“The fuck you mean ‘reinvited’?” Katsuki snarls sleepily, nuzzling into my neck.

“Honey, you were my plus one. You never got your own invite,” I gently remind him, amusement tickling my insides.

“What cunts.” He grumbles, pulling me close.

“Katsuki!”

[fishfooddude]

Just a Kiss

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Both you and Bradley want to take your friendship to the next level.

Top Gun Maverick MasterList

Directory

“I’m not makin’ fun of you. I just think it’s-” Bradley chuckled, “It’s funny because you’re fuckin’ gorgeous, and you’re telling me you haven’t been with anyone in a year?”  you rolled your eyes in response and threw a handful of popcorn at him from the other side of the couch. “Shut up Bradshaw.” you challenged, snuggling deeper into the plush couch he’d helped you lug into your apartment four years ago when you met. 

Bradley was definitely your favorite neighbor; you’d water his plant and feed his cat while he was deployed. In return, he’d open jars and help you carry heavy stuff upstairs. As the two of you got to know each other better, you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about what his mustache would feel like against your skin. He was tall, tan, and handsome, but he’d never go for a girl like you- you’d seen the girls leaving his apartment on Saturday and Sunday mornings; they were all petite blonds with perfect tits and plush lips… i.e., not you.

“I’m just being honest, Y/N. You’re gorgeous and funny and kind… you’re a good person. You could get any guy you want.” Bradley said, reaching for his beer sitting on the coffee table. “I guess.” you sighed, turning your attention back to the shitty reality tv show the two of you had been watching. 

“Come out with me and the guys tomorrow. It’ll be fun.” Bradley suggested as he left that night. “I don’t know Bradshaw… I have plans on Saturday morning, and last time we went out, Nat drank me under the table and-” You began trying to wiggle your way out of this invite. Bradley shook his head, “You’re comin’ out with us, Y/N, not takin’ no for an answer.”

~

Bradley regretted inviting you to the bar that weekend. You stood by the jukebox talking with Phoenix about god knows what, and he scanned the room, noticing how many drunken sailors were looking you up and down. He wasn’t lying when he complimented your appearance and character the other night. When you moved into the apartment across the hall, he thought you’d be one of his conquests. The afternoon you’d asked him to help move that ugly oversized gingham couch up three flights of stairs because it didn’t fit in the elevator, he realized that his attraction to you wasn’t just skin deep. Then, as the months went by, the casual conversations the two of you shared in the hallway or the mail room turned into less casual conversations and exchanging phone numbers. You’d melded into his life seamlessly, and Bradley knew he needed you in a more intimate way, but he didn’t want to screw up your friendship if the two of you ended up having no chemistry.

“You don’t come here a lot, do you, sugar?” a man asked you as he walked up to where you and Phoenix had been hanging out. Phoenix looked the man up and down, “She’s here with Rooster.” she warned. “I don’t see Bradshaw around here- never hurts to make another friend, right?” he challenged, glancing at Phoenix before turning his attention fully toward you. “Lemme buy you a drink.” his voice dripped with a sickly sweet affect. You stepped backward and shook your head, “I’m okay.” you put a hand up defensively, hoping he’d get the message and back off- oh, but of course, he didn’t.

Bradley heard the commotion when he came out of the bathroom. He turned the corner and saw some bottom-of-the-barrel seaman cornering you and Phoenix. Bradley strode toward the jukebox with clenched fists and chuckled. “Seaman, clearly, these ladies aren’t interested. I suggest you walk away before I have to take matters into my own hands.” 

The man froze as Bradley spoke. He swallowed awkwardly and offered a pitiful apology before walking in the other direction. You felt the air leave your lungs. Bradley was basically a knight in shining armor. “Wanna leave?” he asked you.

You nodded and followed Bradley to the bar. He closed out his tab before the two of you walked out of the bar toward his car in the parking lot. When the two of you were in the car, you turned to stare at Bradley, “What do I have something on my face?” he laughed as he swiped the back of his hand against his mouth. “No, but I- I need to do something before we leave.” you quivered as your confidence began to run dry; before you could chicken out, you leaned across the center console and pressed your lips against Bradley’s. After the initial shock of what was happening washed away, Bradley deepened the kiss by bringing his hand to your cheek. 

You ended the kiss, leaving Bradley breathless, “Sorry, I’ve really wanted to do that for a while.” you swallowed, hoping you hadn’t ruined your friendship. “I’m glad you did; I’ve wanted to for a while now, too.” he managed to say before reaching for your cheek again.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hello!

I'm a big fan of your writing its so pretty :3 So, that said, may I request an Angel Dust x GN! Reader where Reader is Angel Dust's bodyguard, hired by Valentino. They're stoic, serious, tough, and completely unamused and unaffected by Angel's advances. At first, Angel's kinda annoyed that Val got him a babysitter, but after some time, he starts to develop a little childish crush on them. Fantasizing about them, writing and drawing about them, pretty much just being an overall simp, and he's never felt like this about someone before so he's pretty confused. They're a badass and great at fighting, so he'll purposefully get into trouble just so that he can be rescued and carried like a princess (he finds out rlly hot how strong they are). They don't do drugs, smile often, and they give off dom vibes.

Bonus: Angel sometimes fantasizes that while he's at the studio with other people doing things to him, he imagines *them* doing those things instead and he almost lets their name slip-

Preferred sfw but u can do nfsw if you want You don't have to write this if u don't want to sorry for writing so much but I don't wanna be too vague :> Be sure to drink water, eat healthy, and get lots of sleep! TYSM!! ~Blueberry 🫐🪻💜

Tough Love

A/N: HIII!! Thank you so so so much for your request!! Thank you for the compliments as well!

Navigation!!

Angel Dust had been through a lot of things in his afterlife—drugs, crime, sex, violence, you name it. But never in his wildest, drug-induced hallucinations did he think he’d be assigned a personal babysitter.

“Listen, Toots,” Angel sneered, lounging dramatically on Valentino’s expensive leather couch, one leg thrown over the armrest. “I don’t need no bodyguard. I can take care of myself.”

You stood across the room, arms crossed, an unshakable, unreadable expression on your face. No amusement, no annoyance, just pure, unbothered professionalism.

Valentino, lounging in his own seat with a smug grin, exhaled a puff of smoke and chuckled. “Not up for debate, sweetheart. You’re sloppy, and I don’t got time for you runnin’ off gettin’ your ass beat again. So, they’re gonna make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

Angel huffed, flipping his hair dramatically. “Whatever, Val. Guess I got a new shadow.”

But you weren’t just a shadow. You were a presence. A solid, looming force in Angel’s life, always a few steps behind him, always watching. Your job was simple: keep him alive, keep him in line, and, most importantly, keep him from pissing off anyone too dangerous.

At first, Angel was pissed. You didn’t react to his usual antics. Every flirtation, every crude joke, every not-so-subtle pose he threw your way was met with the same cold, unimpressed stare.

“You alive in there, tough guy?” Angel teased one day, snapping his fingers in front of your face. “Or did Valentino hire a fuckin’ statue to follow me around?”

Nothing. Not a smirk, not an eye roll. Just a slow, unimpressed blink.

That should’ve been enough for him to lose interest, right? He lived for attention, for reactions. But you? You were a goddamn puzzle. And the more he failed to crack you, the more… interesting you became.

It started subtly.

At first, he’d just watch you when you weren’t looking. Studying the way you moved—controlled, confident, dangerous. You weren’t just some tough guy playing bodyguard; you were the real deal. Every muscle in your body was tuned for a fight, and Angel realized real fast just how powerful you were.

Then came the fantasies.

It was stupid, really. Childish. But he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering. Imagining scenarios where you’d protect him—not just because it was your job, but because you wanted to. Where you’d pull him close, hold him like he was something precious. Where you’d tell him, in that low, steady voice of yours, “I got you.”

God, he hated how much he liked that idea.

And it only got worse.

From thinking about you while he was working, and realizing it was the only way he’d get a good shot, to fantasizing about you while Valentino had his fun with him. But even then, it still got worse. More personal.

Angel had never been shy about drawing. Usually, his sketchbooks were filled with crude doodles, lewd caricatures, and exaggerated self-portraits. But lately? Lately, his pages were filled with you.

You standing over him like an immovable wall of strength. You carrying him effortlessly out of danger, holding him in your arms like he weighed nothing. You pinning someone to the ground, eyes cold and lethal.

And sometimes… you looking at him. Not with indifference, not with boredom, but with something else. Something intense.

He’d slam his sketchbook shut, face burning under his fur. What the fuck was wrong with him?!

Angel wasn’t subtle. Not even a little.

The moment he realized how hot it was when you fought, it became his new favorite pastime to get into just enough trouble to make you step in.

At first, it was little things. Mouthing off to the wrong demon in a club, getting a little too bold with a mobster’s wife—just enough to stir the pot. He’d bat his lashes and play innocent, waiting for the chaos to start.

And like clockwork, you’d step in.

It was thrilling. Watching you move, precise and deadly, dismantling threats like they were nothing. And when the fights were over? When you’d grab him by the waist and haul him out of danger, carrying him effortlessly through the chaos?

Angel thought he might die (again) from how fucking hot it was.

One night, after you singlehandedly took down a group of thugs dumb enough to corner him, Angel threw his arms around your neck dramatically, grinning like a schoolgirl.

“Oh, darlin’, you saved me! My hero!” he cooed, batting his lashes.

You barely spared him a glance as you carried him bridal-style through the alley, your grip firm but effortless. “You put yourself in danger on purpose,” you stated flatly.

Angel pouted, twirling a lock of his hair around his finger. “Oh, come on, tough guy. Don’tcha wanna be my knight in shining armor?”

Silence.

And yet… he swore he saw the ghost of a smirk tug at the corner of your lips.

That was it. That was the moment he realized he was fucked.

Angel was used to people wanting him. He was used to being the center of attention, the loudest voice in the room. But you? You barely acknowledged his antics.

So he started trying.

“Ohhh, big guy, you ever smile?” Angel drawled one night, draping himself dramatically over the bar. “Or is that somethin’ extra I gotta pay for?”

Nothing.

He scooted closer. “C’mon, just a little one? For me?” He batted his lashes, pouting exaggeratedly.

You exhaled through your nose. “No.”

Angel groaned, flopping onto the counter. “Ugh, you’re killin’ me here.”

But goddammit, that tiny, almost invisible quirk at the edge of your lips? Yeah, that was enough to send him into a full spiral.

Angel had been with a lot of people. He knew lust, he knew desire. But this? This was new. This weird, fluttery, giddy stupid feeling in his chest whenever you so much as looked at him? That was terrifying.

He started catching himself staring at you for no reason. Imagining what it’d be like if you actually wanted him. Not just as a job, not just as another problem to handle, but as something more.

And the worst best part?

You didn’t do drugs. You weren’t like the other demons in his life, numbing yourselves to Hell’s bullshit. You were clear-headed. And that meant if you ever did look at him like that, if you ever did choose him, it wouldn’t be because of some haze of intoxication.

It would be real.

And that scared the absolute shit out of him.

One night, after another near-death experience (that may or may not have been entirely his fault), Angel found himself in your arms again.

But this time, instead of throwing out some cheeky one-liner, he just… looked at you.

The way your expression remained stoic, but your grip on him was firm, secure. The way you carried him like he was something that mattered. Like he was something worth protecting.

For once, he didn’t try to joke, didn’t try to flirt. He just rested his head against your chest, listening to the steady beat beneath.

And he realized—he didn’t mind being your problem.

[leashybebes]

For the kiss prompt may I request 41 if it so inspires you. If not my backup pick is 10. 😊 Good luck with your assignment!!

41 is because the world is saved. may i offer you a pacific rim au in these trying times?

Tommy has never seen the LA Shatterdome so full. PIlots and technicians and cadets and - civilians, maybe? - are running around, there's the sound of cheering, the babble of excited speech, the boom of announcements. Tommy takes some of Sal's weight as they look around, and up at the looming shape of their Chrome Brawler. Tommy's mentally calculating how long the repairs will take, and trying not to think about how the hell she even managed to get them back to the Shatterdome in one piece. Jesus, what a day.

"Six weeks minimum," Sal says, the drift lingering enough that they don't have to say any more.

"Yeah," Tommy sighs. "C'mon, let's get you to medical."

They hobble along in silence for a few minutes before Sal says, "We'll get an award for this one."

"I'd rather get a week R&R," Tommy argues. God, he wants to sleep so bad.

"Of course you would, you fuckin' misery." Sal digs his elbows into Tommy's ribs and Tommy briefly contemplates dropping him to deal with his fucked up ankle on his own.

They pass Hen and Chim of Sierra Mentor. They seem pretty unscathed, and Hen shoots him a quick look, gestures towards the row of Jaegers and gives him a thumbs up. Tommy feels something of the knot of tension unwind just a little in his chest. Corsair Shrike isn't lined up with the others yet, but then she'd been right at the head of the pack, as always, giving Tommy a fucking heart attack as Evan and Eddie threw themselves into the effort to seal the rift without a single other thought in their minds.

He gets Sal to medical, hands him over bitching and complaining to the medics, and even submits to a quick check over himself. Somehow, he's totally unscathed apart from a pounding headache and he finds himself in the hallway outside medical, drinking from a tepid bottle of water and sweating in the drive suit he should really take off. He closes his eyes, just for a second.

"Tommy!"

The voice jolts him out of the sleep he's been longing for for seventy two miserable hours, cures his headache, erases his tiredness, sends him to his feet because there - Evan. He's also still in his drive suit, only the helmet removed, and he and Eddie have an arm around each other, limping their way towards him. Eddie straightens to stand on his own, gives Tommy a lazy salute, then shoves Evan towards him. Tommy's water bottle falls unheeded at his feet, spilling the last dregs across the floor, and they collide. The stupid suits mean there's no way they can get close enough, no way he can check Evan for injuries to his own satisfaction, but maybe he doesn't need to, because Evan is beaming and babbling, clearly riding the high of adrenaline and the drift and success.

" - you see us out there, Tommy that was amazing, we did it, we did it - "

"You guys were incredible," Tommy says, glancing over to include Eddie in the statement. "Took five years off my life, but wow."

"Deluca okay?" Eddie asks, and Tommy gestures to medical.

"Nothing major."

"Alright," Eddie says. "I'm gonna - " He melts into the hubbub around them and Evan promises to come check on him.

"Tommy," he says again, quieter now. "Tommy, we saved the world."

"Big damn heroes," Tommy jokes, and Evan pulls him into a kiss. It's awkward with the bulk of their drive suits between them, but they make it work. God, it feels so good to have Evan in his arms, alive and whole and justifiably on top of the damn world. If the way Evan presses closer and bites at his lip is anything to go by, tonight is going to be a hell of a night.

The sounds of victory, so long absent from the LA Shatterdome continue to roar around them but Evan sways in his arms and lets out a happy little sigh, and Tommy doesn't hear anything else at all.

[shewritesfics]

Sleepovers

Pairing: Charlie Kelly/Reader

Notes: Hi! these were two separate blurbs that I kind of mixed together, let me know what you think!

1:46 A.M. 

On A Friday

You come up the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail and stumbling. Fuck, man, you were gone. A live band was playing at this bar, so you decided to go and had a little too much fun. You were humming to yourself as you climbed up the stairs, your voice bouncing through the walls and falling back on your ears. Your head was pounding as if you were still next to the speakers, ears ringing and body vibrating. You finally make it to the top and turn sharply, making your way to the end of the hall. Was it the best idea to be this drunk, this late at night? No, not by yourself, but you were far too fucked to care. A small blob is perched against your door, growing larger into view as you stumble through the hallway. It’s Charlie. 

“Charlie?”  The rasp in your voice is evident. He jolts awake, his eyes wild, and his breathing quickens. 

“Y/N! Dude! Oh my god, Frank fuckin locked me out! Again!” He’s flailing his arms around to convey how betrayed he is.  This wasn’t a super regular occurrence, but it happened now and then when Frank had ‘whores’ over. When that happened you would let Charlie crash on the couch, which he always gratefully thanked you. He’s rambling on and on now about the day they had and how he ended up in this situation, but it was all muffled in your ears. Can he not tell you’re incredibly fucked up right now? Does he not care? You’re squinting at him with dry, red eyes, trying to focus on his lips so maybe you can make out a word or two. 

“Dude- you okay?” He finally notices your body language, stopping mid-rant. You look at him, noticing his lips aren’t moving anymore, and he’s looking at you with a quizzical brow. 

You lick your lips and smile slightly. “Uhm.. what?” 

His brows furrow. “Y/N, you okay?” He talks slower now, trying to sound out each word precisely. 

“Charlie…” You reach your hand out to his shoulder and push him lightly, laughing. “I’m so fucked up right now.” 

He laughs in response, but worry is still evident on his face. Charlie hasn’t known you for awfully long, but he’s never seen you like this. Sure, you came in for a drink at Paddy’s sometimes, but you always limited yourself. This was new. He noticed your eye makeup was smudged, you used to have lipstick on but now it just seemed like a stain. Your sweatshirt was falling off your shoulders, your hair was wild, and your eyes were red. You were blinking quite slowly, your body swaying back and forth. Not that he knew much about you - even though he would rifle through your trash and sometimes read your mail - he was intrigued. You seemed loose, unfiltered. 

“Yeah- so uh- can I crash here again?” He’s playing with his hands nervously. 

“No prob, Bob.” You smiled at him and unlocked your door, leaning on it heavily while it opened. He walks in and leans on the kitchen counter, watching as you sit down on the floor and struggle with your shoes. He smiles to himself as he admires you. Your tongue sticking out while you squint at the shoelaces, plucking at the knot so hopefully it untangles itself. Your jacket falls again, and you frustratingly rip it off you. He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“You need some help?” Your head snaps up and looks at him. You grunt and wave him off, focusing back in on the laces trying a new angle. One finally lets up and you kick off one shoe, cheering to yourself. You help yourself up from the floor, walking into the kitchen, and grabbing a glass, filling it with water. Charlie is still silent, just watching you stumble around. He clears his throat and you look at him, before he points down to your feet, still having one shoe on. You groan to yourself and ignore it, chugging the glass of water. He laughs and gets down on his knees. He grabs your leg and lifts it, setting it on his thigh as he quickly loosens the laces, slipping your foot out and throwing the show to the front door. He looks up at you, smiling. 

It was silent. He’s on the floor smiling up at you with his green doe eyes. His head is tilted ever so slightly. It felt intimate. His touch was so soft. Your mouth dried up instantly, and your heartbeat quickened. He’s up again, leaning against the counter and just looking at you. 

“Quit it.” Your hand flies up and covers your face from his gaze. 

“Quit what?” He laughs. 

“Quit looking at me.” You mumble out and drink the rest of your water. His hands come up defensively and a goofy smile is on his face.  

“Alright, my bad.” He chuckles and heads over to the couch. You hold up a finger to him and put the glass in the sink, then make your way to the bedroom, grabbing him a pillow and blanket for his night on the couch. He had a specific blanket he liked, which you found endearing. Charlie is a strange man, sure, but you understood him.

–Dating– 

Sometimes Charlie was quiet at night. Usually, it was after he recapped his crazy day, ate, and had a few drinks. He would just sit and watch. It was quite endearing. He loved being around you, even if it was in silence. All that mattered was that he was with you. 

You sang. Maybe it was more of a humming depending on if you knew the words to the song or not. The second you started running around for your bedtime routine, the humming would start. Changing into the pjs, brushing hair, washing face. It made him chuckle too, whenever you would stop for a few beats, then continue right where you left off. He wasn’t sure if it was a comfort thing or not, or if you were simply trying to get the song out of your head, but he loved it. Goosebumps would take over his skin when he heard your voice bouncing off the walls. Charlie’s favorite was; Stuck In the Middle With You. Something about how your octave changed when it came to the chorus or the slight riffing you would do during an instrumental part you couldn’t voice. He couldn’t get enough of how you were so effortless around him. It struck his heart, and he was enamored with you. 

Another one of his favorite things about you was your touch. It was slow at first, a huge buildup to the first time you even hugged him; He nearly cried with joy, It was gradual, like all things, but soon it was hard for you to not touch him. Your hand on his thigh, a passing touch on his waist, your hand on his shoulder. It filled him with electricity, the skin beneath your touch growing cold as soon as you left. Charlie was a fool for you, through and through. A dumb goofy smile would rest on his face when you entered a room. His brows would relax into an unfurrowed state, his eyes would soften when he saw the smile on your face. Charlie’s absolute favorite was your scratches. You called them softies - he hated that, it sounded degrading. It was your second nature, for your hands to be consumed with something. It was particularly during movies or lying in bed. Your arm would wrap around his shoulders, starting with rubbing circles into his shoulder. Then, when you got more invested, your hand would drift up to his hair. Scratching and pulling lightly, untangling the knots from the whirlwind of his day. Then your hand would drop, resting on the high of his back, this was when he would lean forward - pretending to be so engrossed in the movie - but it was really to give you more access. This was his nirvana. When you would switch from your nails to your fingertips they would dance along his skin. Goosebumps would cover his arms, and a blush would stem from his cheeks to his ears. Your touch always seemed to render him speechless. His knees would grow weak and he would melt into your touch. 

Before bed, you would crawl in beside him. Maybe you had a book, or you would catch up to the news on your phone. Either way, one hand was always on him. He would hold you, his head laying on your mid-drift as you’re propped up leaning against the pillows and headboard. His arm would be draped around you, one leg bent on top of yours. Your arm would be behind him, scratching or drawing into his back. Charlie’s sleep always varied - to you at least. He was sneaky, pretending to fall asleep so you would start reading the book under your breath. The whisper of your words paints such a beautiful picture for him. Your yawns would get more frequent, and your breathing would get deeper. Your body would sink lower into the bed, and he knew you were about to join him. The lights would click off and you would slide lower until his head was on your chest, you kept your arm around him, still rubbing small circles into his skin. He knew when you were hanging on by a thread. Your movements would stutter, and the scratching on his back would cease for seconds at a time. You’d twitch lightly and your scratching would resume, he always tried not to giggle when he noticed. 

You mumble out, your voice lower as sleep is washing over you. “What’re you laughing at…” 

Charlie chuckled. “You just do this thing sometimes- like uh- you fall asleep in the middle of scratching me… and then you must wake up again or something- I dunno. It’s just cute is all.” His voice trails off. He gets up slowly wraps one hand under you and flips you gently, turning your back to his chest and holding you close to him. 

“Do I really do that?” A low laugh rumbles from you. Charlie moves your hair from your neck and kisses it softly, smiling at your warm skin. 

“Yeah, you really do.” He hums into your neck, causing you to giggle. "I love you." 

"I love you too, Charlie."

[iwritefandomimagines]

BLIND DATE — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

description: you and jamie never saw eye to eye. when keeley offers to set you up on a blind date and it’s him that turns up, you’re irritated. but you’re soon to find out that maybe she’s right… maybe he has changed.

warnings: enemies to lovers if you squint bc there’s not much angsty content it’s more implied, swearing, alcohol consumption, fluff at the end because that’s my mf baby

author’s note: i live and breathe enemies to lovers jamie tartt content so this is sooo self indulgent and fluffy ish at the end.

———

“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me?”

You’d already been reluctant when Keeley Jones begged you to let her set you up with someone she knew.

Your best friend had been going on at you about needing to ‘get yourself out there’ for ages now — and the only reason you had given in to her request was so that she’d back off a bit.

But now, as the one and only Jamie fucking Tartt approached your table, your dress felt especially clingy and your palms felt especially sweaty.

“Y/N,” Jamie smirked, having always enjoyed getting under your skin, “You look fucking stunnin’, and really fucking happy to see me.”

You rolled your eyes as he sat down, “Why the hell would Keeley set me up with you of all people?”

Jamie pushed his hair out of his face, and you couldn’t help but take his whole look in as he removed his jacket and adjusted his shirt.

Okay, he may have been a massive prick — but not even you could deny that he wasn’t exactly a chore to look at. Just a chore to listen to.

“See, Y/N, I hear ya voice complaining,” he quipped, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm as his other hand waved over a waiter, “But you’re still checking me out. Like what you see, eh?”

Before you had a chance to snap back at the walking irritant in front of you, the waiter was at your table taking your drinks orders.

A large glass of wine to cool your nerves would do nicely was what you had decided before he’d arrived — but now a bottle seemed more appropriate.

Of course, when you asked for this Jamie just smiled smugly, “Yeah, you know what? Me ‘n the lady will share. Bring us your most expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio, yeah?”

You tried not to cringe at his mispronunciation.

You sighed, sipping at the table water you’d already been brought as the waiter nodded and rushed away.

“Now where were we, love?”

“You were being arrogant, I was still trying to figure out how I’ve ended up sat opposite you… Just like old times.”

Jamie scoffed, “Oh no, I was simply observin’ that you checked me out. Don’t worry, love, I was checking you out too. Like I said, you’re stunnin’.”

You hated that he could so obviously see his words had affected you — a crimson blush immediately staining your cheeks as he quirked his eyebrow in acknowledgement.

“I can think that you’re attractive and still think you’re a prick, Jamie,” you shrugged, a small smile on your lips as he screwed up his face, “I do have eyes.”

He licked his lips, “See, makin’ progress already. Never admitted you fancy me before, but if it helps, love, I fancy you too.”

You scoffed again, “I said you’re attractive, not that I fancy you.”

“Same thing,” he shrugged, leaning further forward, “Look, I know you think I’m a twat, but I’ve been working on how not to be.”

You looked at him for a moment, not sure what to make of his words.

He’d always been an egotistical arse, always convinced he was God’s gift to earth, and his shameless flirting whilst also being an arsehole had always just grated on you.

You’d had some semblance of a crush on him once, almost admiring his confidence (and of course how gorgeous he was) but his attitude had led you to a prickling disdain for the man instead.

He knew he got under your skin, so he would flirt outrageously and nitpick at things you did and said to piss you off and rile you up.

Keeley had insisted he took the whole childhood ‘if they’re mean to you they like you’ bollocks all too seriously, but you’d brushed that off considering the fact that he was still very much lapping up any and all female attention he received elsewhere.

Given that you only attended events as Keeley’s friend, it hadn’t been hard to avoid him since — deciding that it wasn’t worth letting him get to you.

“So Keeley’s been saying,” you narrowed your eyes, “I know you flirt with, like, anything that breathes, but I’m surprised you’re not more disappointed by her decision to set us up.”

It was Jamie’s turn to scoff now, his eyes never leaving yours as you felt suddenly shy under his close watch.

“She didn’t set us up, I asked her to.”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to why the fuck he’d do that. Sure, he’d flirted with you before but you were certain it was just to piss you off.

“What?”

“I knew you didn’t like me, ‘cos you only know the old Jamie Tartt,” he pouted, and you fought the urge to chuckle, “So I asked her to pretend it was just some mate of hers she wanted to send you on a blind date with. Just to see if you’d give me a chance, ya know?”

You were almost touched by his words, but still remained wary about his intentions, “Why— what made you that determined for a date with me?”

He laughed, a big loud laugh that drew the attention of many surrounding tables.

The waiter returned now, interrupting you again.

He poured you both a glass of wine and placed down the wine cooler as you and Jamie thanked him whilst never looking away from each other.

“For the third time tonight, you’re fuckin’ stunning Y/N. And I like that you never took my shit back then. Just figured it was time to try me luck and see if ya’d change your mind about me,” if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was nervous, “‘S why Keeley’s been talkin’ me up to you so much. She’s known I’ve had a thing for you for, like, ages.”

You were gobsmacked — not only by his confession, but the sincerity his voice held.

“Why’ve you not reached out sooner, then? I haven’t seen you in months, not since the last charity gala,” you bit your lip.

You remembered that night very well, given that you’d almost shared a drunken kiss with him until you came to your senses and left the party.

He only smirked again, “You remember the exact last time we saw each other, huh?”

“Jamie…”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in defeat, “I was gutted you didn’t kiss me at that party, even though it’s fair that you didn’t. Keeley told me you deserved better than how I’d been treating you, but that she knew if I got me shit together we’d make a good couple. So I waited ‘til me shit was, well, together. And now here we are. With my shit sorta together.”

You were almost speechless, “Jamie— that’s, well, that’s actually really sweet.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, “Glad ya think so, love. Been hard as fuck and I’ve almost called you a fuck load of times, too, but Keeley and Roy have been really good with helping and that.”

Now you were really surprised, “Roy’s been helping you work on yourself? Fuckin’ hell, things must have changed since I last saw you!”

Jamie laughed, pursing his lips as he shrugged and let out a breathy sigh, “He won’t admit it but we’re, like, friends now. Don’t tell him I said that though. He’d go fuckin’ mental.”

“Oh I know,” you chuckled, “But I hope you’ve been doing this for yourself as well, not just trying to change to make other people happy.

The smile on his face spread warmth through your chest, and you could feel the walls you’d built up to protect yourself from Jamie’s old self beginning to crumble.

Your face was lit with a smile now, a wide and sincere smile that you could tell boosted his confidence about this whole elaborate plan.

“Nah, it’s been good,” he nodded, “And you’ve never smiled at me like that, not even when we first met and you were trying to be nice before I fucked things by being all Jamie Tartt. So I’d say it’s, like, more than worth it, to be fair.”

Your smile only widened at that, and his matched it almost exactly.

“I don’t even know what to say at this point, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not actually glad I’m here now,” you bit your lip, maintaining steady eye contact with him and placing your hand on the table.

He was quick to place his own hand atop yours, “‘M really glad to hear it, Y/N. Can we treat this like a fresh start or whatever? Like a real blind date? Want to show you I’ve changed properly, that I’m a new Jamie.”

You giggled, poking your thumb out to rub the back of his hand with it, “Sure. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and it’s nice to meet you. Sorry if this is forward but you look really good tonight, stranger.”

He beamed like a proud child at those words, “Jamie Tartt. You look fuckin’ phenomenal, Y/N. Since we’ve like, never met, this might be weird,” you rolled your eyes with a laugh at how seriously he was taking the starting over thing, “But I hope this ain’t our only date.”

“Play your cards right, Jamie Tartt, and it won’t be,” you smiled, standing up and leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheekbone.

“Because, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I hope it isn’t either.”

———

eeeee i hope you enjoyed that, i love jamie tartt a ridiculous amount so couldn’t help myself ! here’s my masterlist if you want to read more of my jamie fics or any of my other stuff!

also kinda feeling a part two where you’re secretly dating and turn up to a richmond squad event with him? let me know if u would like that!!!

[burnerofstars]

Somewhere in Panem with the victors the 74th year

Katniss climbing the tree

Gloss: Really Haymitch, this is the girl that got an 11 as a training score??

Cato falls

Haymitch: At least she got up the fuckin tree.

Cashmere: It’s fine someone else will get her.

None if the carriers climbing

Enobaria: You gotta be kidding me.

Johanna and Finnick join on the couch

Johanna: Even Finnick’s kids could climb a fucking tree,

Finnick hiding laughter

Brutus: At least our kids made it past the blood bath, can’t say the same for either of yours.

Johanna: I bet you wish they’d kept one of mine around right about now.

Gloss: its fine, she’s a sitting duck, they can just shoot her, its not like she can dodge it, or move.

Glimmer misses shot

Haymitch: Did that girl ever hit any target with her arrow? Because mine did.

Cashmere: We told her to grab a short distance weapon, she has no aim.

Enobaria: that’s embarrassing, for the careers. Cato will get her, he doesn’t miss.

Cato fires arrow and misses

Brutus: Oh my god, I can’t watch this, im getting second hand embarrassment.

Haymitch: Can none of your kids climb a tree???

Cashmere: I guess not.

Marvel throws spear and misses

Finnick: None of them can aim either, this is just sad

Peeta: lets wait her out, she has to come down at some point.

Haymitch laughing hysterically,

Some time later

Katniss starting to cut down tracker jackers

Gloss: Did all our kids seriously fall asleep,

Cashmere rubbing her temples: Yea, they did

Johanna: Who sleeps that heavily in the arena??? Shes making so much noise how are they not awake?

Enobaria: She’s gonna die from those jackers before that nest falls,

Nest falls and careers scatter

Brutus: I need another drink,

Glimmer dies

Johanna: HAH HOW DOES IT FEEL HAVING YOUR CAREER BE TAKEN OUT BY THE DISTRICT 12 GIRL!

Cashmere: no comment,

Some more time later

Katniss plots with rue to blow up food

Gloss: they aren’t gonna fall for that.

They fall for it

Haymitch: you were saying?

Enobaria: This year sucks

Katniss kills Marvel

Johanna (drunk) : HAH BOTH OF YOUR TRIBUTES TAKEN OUT BY THE 12 GIRL!

Gloss: Ok im leaving now.

Cashmere: yea i think im also gonna head out…

Johanna (drunk): LOOSERS HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

Finnick: ok Jo, come on, that’s enough for you,

Takes her alcohol

Johanna: no fairrrr, you never take Haymitch’s alcohol

Haymitch: he knows not to mess with me

Finnick: Every time you get drunk, you end up in a fist fight, or breaking something, or both, Haymitch just passes out.

Johanna: OH WHAT YOU WANNA FIGHT LETS FIGHT!

Finnick picks Jo up and carries her to the elevator as she continues screaming and fighting

Haymitch to Brutus and Enobaria: Haha, your tributes arent as cool as mineeee,

Brutus: at least our girl doesn’t look like she wants to vomit getting close to her supposed lover.

Finnick returns

Enobaria: that was fast?

Finnick: I locked her in her bathroom,

Haymitch: Didn’t she just break down the door last time?

Finnick: I handcuffed one of her hands to the pipes and the other to the door.

Elevator doors open revealing Johanna, drenched in water, still handcuffed to a pipe, and the door.

Finnick: I give up. *sits down*

Brutus: what the fuck is wrong with you.

Both Finnick and Jo simultaneously: A lot.