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cuntdevil · 3 months ago

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★ THE CLEANER-UPPER!

a highly-regarded murder cleaner is assigned a job at a hotel. unfortunately, when housekeeping walks in, it breaks bakugo's streak and ability to make a clean getaway.

( fic demographics. ) boku no hero academia, bakugo katsuki, dark content (violence) & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs: do not interact & 7000 words.

╰┈➤ murder cleaner!bakugo, housekeeper!reader ( afab & she/they pronouns ), mentions of murder, dead bodies & blood. smut: rough sex, bondage with a belt, anal play, fingering, degredation, spanking, etc.

( author's note. ) this fic is based on a mobile game ive been playing recently, nobodies: murder cleaner. it's so fun and was an interesting concept i wanted to turn it into a fan fic uwu.

Bakugo has always been thorough with everything he does, living his life in a pristine manner that his friends often teased him for. Everything he has and owns has to be placed in their designated areas or his mind will start racing and it’s as though he’s a ticking time bomb. It’s a problem that he has, but he’s made it work in his favor. Especially in his line of business.

When Bakugo’s asked what he does for work, he’s honest. He’s a cleaner. Typically, people won’t question him further. They might ask what a guy of his size and caliber is doing working a small job like that. He’s gone to a well-established university and earned a high-GPA that his academic peers are envious of. Why is he wasting such talent on a dead-end job? Surely, there are other professions and careers he could go in.

And with further elaboration, Bakugo goes into a little bit more detail, saying that he works for a private company and that he gets paid by the rich to clean up. Then, by seeing the type of stuff he’s able to afford, they can come to some sort of understanding of why he does it. A paycheck is a paycheck and does he really need a job that’s mentally taxing? They learn to dismiss further questioning, even if they’re not satisfied with the course of life in which Bakugo’s decided, and let him be. He’s got a roof over his head and is able to come home to a full fridge. He’s obviously not struggling like they have to.

But the majority of the time, that’s a stranger’s outlook on his life. People that are more dear to him have come to grow suspicious. Are the rich really that willing to pay him that much money just to clean their homes? Do they really just throw their money away just like that?

His parents, specifically his mother, have inquired plenty of times about his job. She had asked for full reports about the business he works in and Bakugo’s been willing to share. Giving his mother a business card, pamphlets and flyers, his tax information when she further insisted. And through conducting her own research, everything has checked out. Her son is indeed a cleaner. A well-paid cleaner that’s able to live in a nice luxury apartment by himself, owning a car that’s better than her own, and doesn’t have to come back to his parents for anything financial wise.

He doesn’t have to worry about a thing, and while that should make Mitsuki happy, it doesn’t. She’s proud that her son has a job and is able to support himself and doesn’t need to depend on her or her husband for anything, but she feels as if she’s not needed— not wanted anymore. He rarely calls and when he does, he makes sure to make it worthwhile, always stating how his job has kept him and away from the phone. When Mitsuki tries to make unexpected visits, he’s never home— peeking through the windows, his apartment barely looks lived in.

The more and more she thinks about it, Mitsuki realizes that this isn’t normal. Days at a time he would be absent and when he’s back it’s only for a day or two until he’s back on his feet. It’s exhausting to watch, and it surely must be twice as exhausting for Bakugo to keep working such strenuous hours. She’d try to get him to quit, seeing purple starting to form under his eyes. That’s not like her son— that’s not like Bakugo to not get at least eight hours of sleep every night. However, he’s always quick to protest, giving her every reason in the book not to. And he’d always end it that he actually loves his job and loves what he does— that it’s his outlet.

And with that reasoning only is why Mitsuki hasn’t dragged her son’s ass back home and forced him to quit already. Her boy is happy.

—

MISSION REPORT:

Asset #1080, last night Q-100’s logistics expert Shinsou Hitoshi used a known alias to check in to the Escenica hotel in Buenos Aires. Turns out that was the last mistake he ever made.

Our operative had to act fast to catch him in his room, so you may well have a bigger mess than usual on your hands.

Housekeeping will begin making rounds any time now. Make sure there’s nothing for them to find.

Disposing of the mission report right as the plane lands, Bakugo lets out an exhausted sigh. He pulls out his airpods case as he stands to his feet, plopping the small buds into his ears and hearing the habitual chime of it connecting to his device. Swerving past the private flight attendant, his footsteps are as quiet as a mouse, something that used to be unlikely before working in this field. He puts on his playlist, he always plays it when heading to a new job— it oddly relaxes him.

Heading to the black Lexus that’s sitting there waiting for him, he opens the door and hops in, not having to say a word as he’s been driven right where he needs to be. Being introduced to this line of business, Bakugo never thought he’d be someone who’d become insensitive to the sight of death and the thought of it all. However, being led through the first job and oddly finding it satisfying, he slides through every gig with ease and always concludes it a piece of cake when his agent comes to collect a completed mission report.

People think that what he’s doing isn’t challenging, always giving him looks when he tells them he’s a cleaner, thinking that what he’s doing is a waste of talent. However, he finds it to be his perfect calling, finally finding something that silences that constant creak inside his head.

When the Lexus comes to a final stop, Bakugo doesn’t bother with a farewell, more like a thankful grunt and nod before exiting the vehicle and watching as the automated doors open for him. It’s awfully quiet for a hotel, he thinks the moment he steps in. It’s close to the holidays. Shouldn't it be a little bit more crowded?

He’s not trying to wish for a difficult procedure tonight, but he finds the silence odd. However, he finds himself grateful the moment he passes a door with the body splayed out on the bed with the bed sheets covered in blood. Rushing in, he curses, “shit.”

I know they had to act fast, but couldn’t they have used some of their senses if they had any? Bakugo continues to curse under his breath the longer he stands inside of the hotel room, moving to turn the lock on the handle. He lets out a sigh as he takes a moment to himself. Scoping the scenery out, he hums to himself silently as he thinks of his options. The first thing he notices are the windows— they’ve been left open.

I could make it look like he jumped, he suggests before quickly disregarding. No, that’ll call for attention. It needs to be something silent. And something outside of this room— Turning around, he twists the door knob before remembering that he locked it, feeling something flap around underneath. Two signs for maintenance— just what he needs.

Opening the door and peeking his head through it, the coast is clear. The red ‘do not disturb’ on his door and the green housekeeping sign for the room adjacent to him. This will give him enough time to venture out and get a better look at his options.

—

By the time Bakugo’s finished his tour of the hotel, he’s managed to reroute the surveillance off of his floor and housekeeping has fallen for his small diversion, the cart parked right outside the room next to him— he’s managed to successfully snag the keys off of it as well, opening what he needs before setting them back in place. In such a short time, he’s managed to conjure up a plan to successfully hide the body— if he’s able to get the garbage chute up and running in a short period of time while also getting the staff outside of the laundry room right when he needs it. Inwardly, he cheers himself, finding this to be an easy task before instructed another assignment to complete.

Heading back inside the room, he’s found the edge of the bed frame to be falling off, and hopefully it could aid as a ladder to create a diversion for the laundry staff. Those damn workers will be in there twenty-four-seven if he doesn’t do something about it. Finding the custodial closet using the keys he borrowed, he’s managed to twist off the pipe and found some fuses that’ll help repair the garbage chute.

Bakugo thought that since it’d be a year since doing this, his heart would calm down and stop pounding against his chest, but as much as he loves it, he’s reminded of the impeccably tight schedule that he’s on and that he needs to do this fast. He moves with a haste, sorting his thoughts out with every step that he takes. Turning off the valve to the water supply, he’s figured that’ll lead to a little halt in the laundromat workers downstairs and with the garbage disposal inside of the custodial room, he can quickly get rid of the body and the blankets in no time.

Climbing down from the roof, Bakugo pauses when he hears sudden movement. “The damn water stopped working all of a sudden,” a rough voice speaks, his tone rising the more he gets angrier. “What am I supposed to do for the next seven to eight hours?”

“Calm down,” Bakugo hears next, a soft feminine voice coming from whoever the man is speaking to. With the exasperated sigh leaving their mouth, Bakugo can tell that this seems to be an ordinary occurrence of the man complaining and the woman having to hear it. “Call in for maintenance and use the rest of your shift to relax. Easy.”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” the man scoffs. “You’re just a young thing with nothing much going on. For Pete’s sake, you’re in your twenties working in a goddamn hotel!”

Bakugo doesn’t know how the young woman’s able to keep calm when he hears her nonchalantly retort back, “And you’re in your fifties working in a hotel. Shouldn’t you be working high up in corporate by now?”

You’ve managed to silence the man, completely exiting the clean room and making your way down the line. You’ve gotten used to Aizawa’s complaining by now, but sometimes he knows just what button to push. Like now. Eyebrows rising, you see Adam's apple bob as he realizes his mistake. You have surely proven your point. In his incessant rambling, he forgot that both of you are in this circumstance and while there’s no further hope for him to better his life, you still have that opportunity. And unlike him, you have a plan on making it out of the hotel and finding a much more secure and well-paying job.

“Y’know what?” Aizawa clears his throat. “I’m gonna go read that book I’ve been meaning to catch up on the worker’s lounge.”

You curtly nod, plastering a faux smile on your face as Aizawa makes his way down the hall and out of your sight. “Tell me about it later.”

With a heavy exhale, you let out your breath as you push the cart down to the next room, forgetting to read the sign as you move to unlock it. Bakugo doesn’t move fast enough before you have the door unlocked and you’re pushing it open. The sight before you doesn’t fully register until a second too late, eyes widening and about to scream when you feel a rough hand planted over your mouth and you’re being pushed up against the wall. It went by in a flash, but it’s vivid in your mind. Pale skin sprawled out on the bed— motionless. Lifeless. Your heart is racing, panging heavily on your chest as the crimson red eyes that match the color of the blood-soaked covers peer down menacingly at you. “Do. Not. Make a sound.”

You finally make eye contact with the person that’s got you in this position. And it’s easy for you to jump to conclusions— think that he’s the killer and because you walked in on this scene, you’re going to be his next victim. Bakugo’s never been in this position before, never getting caught. He doesn’t know what to do in this predicament.

Actually, he does, but he’s not sure if he wants to carry through. He’s not a killer, only the man that cleans up. He can stomach seeing a dead body, but not sure if he can stomach actually creating one. But, he doesn’t necessarily need to do it himself. He can call his organization, have them do the job for him and he’ll gladly clean it up.

Could he, though? Could he clean up the body of his own mistake? A young and pretty woman, seemingly around his age range, who had no business being in his. Of all of his tasks and mission reports, he’s never had witnessed a woman being killed and he really doesn’t want to anytime soon.

Fuck. You’ve really put him in a predicament here. Couldn’t you read the damn sign?

“Do ya understand me?” Staring into your eyes, he can see that you’re still freaked out. You’re still breathing heavily and your heart’s still racing. Your eyes continue to divert his, trying not to make eye contact at all. His patience is running thin and everything he’s just thought will be running right through the door if you don’t calm down. So, he gives you a little “nudge.”

Shaking you, he clenches his job as he breathes once more, “do y’understand me?”

And finally does it register to you that he’s speaking, fright turning into confusion as your eyes turn glossy. “Mwhat?”

Bakugo seethes, hand pressing down harder over your mouth as he squeezes you into the wall. “Listen to me,” he checks his surroundings, reaching over to lock the door once more while simultaneously making sure he keeps his hold on you. “If ya make a sound, yer going to join this man. I have a pair of pliers that I can use to gouge out yer throat, it only takes a few seconds. Y’understand?”

Tears start to trickle down your eyes as you squeak, nodding your head in obedience. You’ve seen your fair share of movies, true crime television shows and podcasts. You don’t doubt a word that he says. And with a man of his size and caliber, if you dared to fight back, he’d tower over you in less than a second. If he goes back on his word and kills you, you hope it’d be a quick and easy one. So, in his hand, you nod once more. “I understand.”

He keeps you in that same position for a little while longer, staring into your eyes for a bit while longer before letting you go. Dropping his hand, you and him both let out a breath, but he still keeps you trapped against the wall. “Since ya decided to ignore the ‘do not disturb’ sign, yer going to help me dispose of the body.”

You rapidly nod. “Okay.”

You’re complying so easily, it makes him skeptical. “Yer not gonna fight?”

You shake your head, stammering out a “no.”

“Why not?” In response, you start to squirm within his tight hold. His big and calloused arms on your waist. So close to you, you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, so close to your neck. And his eyes, the color of rubies, despite them scorning you and scrutinizing your every move— they’re pretty. This scruff of a man with messy blond hair towers over you, bulging muscles that have easily pinned you down to the wall the moment you stepped foot into the room. The longer you look into his eyes, you realize that this man has seen some shit and has done even more terrible things. Why would you fight?

“You’d win,” you ultimately shrug. It’s enough to receive another once over from Bakugo, “You got a point.”

Peeking over Bakugo’s shoulder as best as you can, you look at the lifeless body— the corpse seemingly at peace. It makes you curious, and maybe a bit too brave. “W-why’d you kill him?”

“Huh?” Taken aback, Bakugo didn’t know how to answer your question. Should he tell you the truth or should he lie about it? Or should he evade your question altogether? Glancing behind him, at his current job, he lets out an exhale. “Just help me hide the body if you don’t want your skull bashed in.”

—

With the extra hand by his side, Bakugo was able to seamlessly dump the body inside of the garbage disposal and set everything that he had used back in its previous spot. You were compliant and didn’t argue with anything that he told you to do, able to divert and lie when questioned by your coworkers. It was as though you were familiar with this and had been working as a cleaner yourself. Bakugo was impressed. Still, he’s still unsure what to do with you.

Standing inside of the hotel room, he’s watched you clean up every crevice of the room, analyzing how you’ve fixed it up to pristine shape for the next occupant. It’s just a shame that the next person will have to deal with the ghost of Shinso Hitoshi. Dropping a spray bottle back into your cart, you slowly turn around to sheepishly view who you suspect to be a murderer. “Are you going to kill me now?”

You’ve taken him back yet again, but more so because you’ve been so calm. How are you not scared at the possibility of losing your life? He doesn’t answer your question and his silence is all that you need to finally break down. “Because before you do, I’d like to at least plead for my life!”

With the raise of your voice, your eyes widen. “Sorry,” you tone it down. “B-but… I won’t say a word. I’ll just— I’ll stay silent! Plus, you’ve made me an accomplice. If I did say anything, you could easily rebuttal it in court.”

You’ve got a point, he sighs. It’s a shocker that he didn’t even think about that before. He just made you an accomplice in the heat of things. Checking the time, it’s late and he has a bit of time for himself before he’s called in for his next task. “Are there any bars close by?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. He gives you a look, telling you not to let him repeat himself. Gulping, you nod your head, “There’s a few not too far from here actually.”

“When do ya get off yer shift?”

Checking the time, you do the quick math. “In a little less than an hour actually.”

“Great,” he pushes himself up from off the wall. “We can discuss it over a drink then.”

“You’re not going to kill me then?” The moment you clocked out, Bakugo dragged you outside of the building and instructed you to take him to the nearest bar. As per usual, you complied, bringing him to one that you actually frequented yourself as the bartender immediately recognized you the moment you took a seat, setting a Mojito right in front of you before asking Bakugo what he wanted. With a bourbon in his hand, Bakugo cocks an eyebrow at you. “What makes ya think that?”

“You haven’t done so already,” you shrug. “I don’t know. With all my true crime knowledge, if you wanted to kill me, you’d have done it already. You’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

“Maybe I’m just having my fun with ya before I kill ya off. Have ya thought about that?” Bakugo inches into your personal space, standing up and towering over you. Purposely taking a domineering stance, he watches as fright twinkles in your eyes. Sickeningly does he find some humor in it before he sits back down on the stool. Clearing his throat, he takes another sip of his drink. “Nah, but yer right. ‘M not gonna kill ya.”

“Then why’d you bring me with you?” you ask. “Why not just send me on my way with another threat or something? It'd have worked.”

Leaning into his chair, Bakugo shrugs. “There’s just somethin’ about ya that makes ya interesting—” licking his bottom lip, his eyes grazing over your body, taking you more in. “—just need to discover what.”

—

Back pressed into the dresser, it aches as the straight edge leaves a bruise on your bare skin. His bare hands are no gentler, calloused palms that hold you down and grip your waist with a vice strength that has your heart beating against your chest. From its incessant pounding, it's caught Bakugo's attention as lets out an airy and amused chuckle. “Not scared to clean up a dead body, but yer frightened by my cock, hm?”

His breath against your neck as his teeth graze the shell of your ear. He paused and in anticipation, your body shudders. “Fear it's the one thing that's gonna kill ya? Yer a rather sick one, aren’t ya?”

You can only mewl out in pain as he pushes you further against the dresser. You can’t help but stare into those crimson eyes of his, how they’re sparkling in lust— lust directed right towards you. However, despite the pain and the haughty desire that courses through your body right now, you can only agree with him. That rush of being afraid, the possibility of losing your life and simultaneously hiding someone that’s already lost theirs. It was an exhilarating experience as you had a tall and brawn of a man that glared daggers into your chest if you dare get him caught. The possibility of aiding a criminal and becoming an accomplice no longer frightened you. No, it was the fact that you enjoyed it and now want to continue feeling that rush of living on the edge.

At the lack of response, Bakugo can only continue to chuckle in pure amusement. He’d mistaken you as a fragile being when in reality, you’re just as fucked up as everyone else is in this world. What was that saying again? The innocent ones aren’t as naive as they seem? At least it was something along those lines.

He leans over to bite down on your lower lip, thick and supple as he can taste the remnants of whatever chapstick you were wearing. You shamelessly moan at the feeling of his touch roaming your body. Big hands that reach to cup your ass and grope at them before hoisting you up on the dresser and eliciting a squeal from your lips. Who knew that a vixen such as yourself could sound so pure. Yet, Bakugo takes the opportunity to fully indulge in you, his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth and giving you no fighting chance towards catching up. Instead, you can only moan and whimper against him as he’s in between your legs and you’re trapped in his vice grip.

Even with the assisted height of the white piece of furniture, Bakugo still has the leverage. His hips meeting your inner thighs as you feel the press of his clothed erection against your mound. Hands that previously didn’t know what to do finds themselves snaking around his neck and your nails scratching at the nape of his neck, playing with the short strands of his undercut. It drags a guttural groan from him, humming in response to your actions as he pulls away from you.

Your eyes flutter open to make contact with him once more, they’re glossy and needy as they beg for me. “Please…”

You don’t know what you’re begging for to be quite honest. You just need to feel more of him— to no longer be restrained by each other’s clothing; to feel each other’s raw bodies against each other’s. Bakugo knows exactly what you want, what you so specifically desire. And as much as he wants to give into those natural urges, he finds it fun to tease. “What’s it that ya want?”

His rough fingers start to traverse your body, from the nape of your neck down to your shoulders as goosebumps start to rise in anticipation. From the crevice of your shoulder to your waist does his fingers travel upwards to flick at the nub of your breasts and down to your navel. “What do you want inside of you, hm?”

His gruff and gravelly voice really does wonders to you, spiking up your heart rate even more that you’re concerned if this’ll turn into a medical mishap. Body still so close to yours, you can feel his body heat mixing with yours as small beads of sweat begin to form. “Do you want my fingers inside of ya?” he inquires. “The same ones that were used to hide a dead body? You’d fuckin’ like that, wouldn’t ya?”

And you nod ever so shamelessly, eyes pleading with him to make you feel full in some sort of capacity. “Ah,” he hums. “Once again, so quick to comply and say ‘yes’ to anything I tell ya. It’s kind of… pathetic.”

You let out a screech, fingers reaching for your hair and pulling ever so roughly. He’s forced you to bear out your neck, your chest heaving heavily as you pant. “Don’t you think so, too?”

You squeal out something incoherent, too fixated on the pain to contort anything understandable. However, his grip loosens as he once again pulls you in for a kiss, swallowing away the momentary pain. Pulling away once more, Bakugo looks at you to say, “don’t worry, doll. I promise to make ya feel good.”

He’s kept well on his promise, fingers stuffed inside of you as he’s still got you sat on the dresser. Legs spread open wide for him as he’s hell-bent on seeing just how well your pussy reacts to him. Your juices secrete onto the piece of furniture as your mind is fixated and captivated on this brute of a man. Two digits stuffed inside of you— thick and intimidating. The hands of a murderer, your subconscious whispers into the back of your mind, yet you can’t find the strength to fight him off. And you sure as hell don’t want to, especially when those said hands are being used to bring you to such immense pleasure right now. Has a man ever made you feel this good before?

You’re afraid to answer your own question as you’re letting another moan as your thighs begin to tighten and your sweet cunt starts clenching around his fingers. Your hand reaches to grab his wrists, but he’s unrelenting as he speeds up the pace. “Oh, God…” you cry out.

“No God here,” Bakugo smiles connivingly. “Just me, doll.”

“I— I’m gonna—”

“Let this pussy cream all over my fingers, baby,” he drawls, spreading your legs even wider with his free hand as he feels your walls pulsate around him. “Show me how much of a dirty slut you are for me.”

And the way your body follows his commands boosts his already inflated ego, a maniacal grin gracing his features as he watches your body convulse. Your mouth falls open in an ‘O’ as you have fallen speechless. A white band forms around the base of his fingers as he continues fingering you through your orgasm, a small puddle starting to form as it widens and sticks to your inner thighs as he watches you in delight. “Yeahhhh…” he breathes, barely above a whisper.

Not a complete asshole, he gives you a moment for you to relax before he’s pulling you out of your haze suddenly. Forcing your legs to wrap around his waist, he carries you over to the bed, dropping you on it and watching your body bounce on it as he’s caught you off guard. In this naked glory and now laying on the bed so vulnerably, it’s given Bakugo the better opportunity to ogle your body much more closely. He takes in your breasts and your curves down to your delectable cunt that still glistens from your orgasm. Eyes traveling back to your face, nothing beats those features of yours.

What’s a sweet little maid doing in the hands of him? You’ve surely lost your way.

Bakugo starts pulling off his own clothes, giving you a show that you have no intent on looking away from. And the way your pupils darken is all the reminder that he needs that you aren’t no saint. Reaching for his pants, he pulls at the buckle of the belt, dragging it from the loops with one aggressive swoop before dropping it on the bed. It could possibly find itself handy.

He maintains eye contact with you, as he watches you sit up on the bed. Unzipping his pants, he shimmies out of it before kicking them off and slowly crawling on the bed and over you. He feels like a predator who’s caught his prey and ready to devour you. Your eyes widen in expectancy, ready and waiting for him to pounce. Both now in an equally naked glory, you’re ready for whatever he has to give. However, from hovering over your body, he’s sitting up once more and removing such close proximity that has you confused and has you questioning his next move.

Until you feel a hand on your ankle. You can’t imagine the ease it takes to flip you over, not letting out a single grunt as he’s gotten you on your stomach now. Breasts pushed into the soft fabrics of the bed with a hand pushing down on your back as you feel his heavy-weight against you. The jingle of his belt comes to your ears as you look behind you, feeling both of your hands in his grip and he’s using the piece of leather to bind them together. He watches you intently as he smirks, “Can’t have ya movin’ ‘round while I use your perfect little pussy.”

He fixes you how he wants, forcing you on your knees as your upper body lays pliant and still. He’s got your ass and pussy out in the open for his use and he watches how your cunt is once again begging to be filled, clenching onto nothing in the search of friction. He’s got a hand around his length, hard and waiting to fill itself into you and ruin this pretty little body of yours. Dark shaft of his that’s veiny and cut tip leaking of pre, he rubs his head as the many possible ideas of what he could do to you rings throughout his mind. But with the aching throb of his cock, he knows he can’t keep withholding you what you want— what the both of you want.

With his body weight, he inches forward until you can feel his skin against you. His heavy cock in between the crevice of your ass as his body heat radiates off him like the scorching sun. Engulfed in his presence, your breath hitches as you tug on the tight restraints of the belt wrapped around your wrists. The raspy chuckle that escapes the man above you sends shivers down your spine as he leans into you. His chest presses against you as one hand grabs at the belt-bounded hands and the other helps align his cock with your entrance. “Y’think yer ready for the wild ride, doll? Cuz I don’t think I’ll stop once I start. This pussy just looks too good to give up.”

“Yes,” you huff out, nodding. “Please, I need you in me.”

He grins. “Whatever y’say.”

The walls of your apartment are paper thin, so you don’t doubt that your neighbors can hear your extracurricular activities. You’re not being considerate of their comfort at all as you shamelessly weil into the night. Skin slapping against skin, the wet sloshing sound of your juices sounding through your bedroom as Bakugo fucks you viciously. You’re crying out like a disgusting little whore, first whining about how he was too big of a stretch and now look at you. You’re not bitching anymore.

“Look at ya,” Bakugo grunts, keeping up the rough and torturous pace. “Taking my cock like the nasty little slut ya’re.”

A thumb prodding at your asshole, puckered and tight, Bakugo lets out a nice string of saliva trickle down in between your ass as he massages the next entrance. The action has you clenching as your nails dig into the palm of your hands, tensing up at the feeling of him teasing your hole. He slaps your ass, nonverbally reprimanding you. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle a finger up your ass now,” he mocks you. “Aww, don’t tell me you can’t handle it. Don’tcha wanna feel good? I know you do.”

You mewl, eyes shut as your face is stuffed into the comfort of your silk-clad pillow, you don’t utter a word to Bakugo. Can’t bring yourself to. “Don’t worry, doll—” For once, Bakugo’s a bit more gentle. Still keeping the exhausting pace of drilling your poor pussy, he rubs your ass with a gentleness. “—It’ll only hurt for a moment.”

He doesn’t give you any warnings, only pressing his thumb deeper until he can’t anymore. Just as he said, where one moment you were squealing in pain, the next your body relaxed as your nerves didn’t know what exactly to focus on. The beatings of your cunt or the thick digit invading your ass. Right as you got adjusted to the additional penetration, you let out a dragged moan that only had Bakugo smirking. “Told ya,” he says with a smack of your ass.

It’s all overwhelming, how you feel so full yet can’t reach behind you to touch Bakugo, to pull him impossibly closer to you. You whine and moan out, high-pitched sounds that’re like music to Bakugo’s ears as you jut your ass back into him. Your cock swallows him whole, your sweet cunt pulsating and clenching around his length in a desperation for him to breed you. And fuck is he tempted to. He can imagine the ropes of cum he could pour into you, mixing with that intoxicating nectar of yours.

His grunts and moans are guttural as he withholds his orgasm, waiting for that perfect moment. With his thumb still inside your hole, he presses the palm of his hand into your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin and threatening to create dark bruises. “C’mon, doll. I ain’t got all night.”

You’re so close, you can feel it. In the pit of your stomach, that familiar churn rises up inside of you and bubbling up to be something deadly. “Fuck,” you cry. “‘M so close!”

It’s inhumanly possible, but Bakugo speeds up even more, battering down on your pussy until you’re screeching out a garbled mess. White blurs your vision and if Bakugo was trying to say anything, you didn’t hear it. Your body spasms as you feel your inner thighs and the sheets beneath you get soaked. You don’t register the sudden hollowness you feel as Bakugo pulls out, the sight of you squirting getting him on so much that his orgasm follows yours shortly after. Ejaculating, he spurts his cum all over your back as your legs fall pliant as the last of your juices seep into your sheets and you can only lay in your mess.

Cock softening as droplets of his orgasm drip down your ass, Bakugo pants as he looks at the time. Half past three in the morning, he should really leave. He knows this, but he’s exhausted and if he makes more than five movements, he’s going to knock out for sure. “Fuck,” he curses as he climbs off you and falls to your left side. You’re panting heavily, chest rising and falling as Bakugo looks over at you. Your eyes feel heavy and you’re trying to force yourself to stay awake, but to no avail. With all the strength you have left, you spin to the side and your back towards the blonde in your bed. Bakugo snorts as he shuffles to turn away from you as well. G’night, he grunts out in his mind.

—

“I’m not a murderer, by the way.” Bakugo finds his way on the edge of the bed, his back towards you. The sun peeks out through your curtains, giving him the light he needs to get dressed. “Don’t think I’ve ever clarified that. I didn’t kill that poor piece of shit.”

He catches you off guard, making you turn around to view his back. Processing his words, you’re not sure if you believe him or not, but you decide to go along with it. You’ve already laid in bed with the man and you’ve given up on convincing yourself of the morals that you believed you once had. Was this a way to make you feel any better? “Then, what are you?” You didn’t mean for the little laugh to leave you at the end of your question, making it seem like you were doubting him. Though truthfully, you were.

“I just clean up the bodies after the murder,” he explains as he gets dressed, ignoring your little chuckle. He can’t blame you. “Someone else kills them and I hide the evidence that it even happened.”

“Oh,” you breathe, intrigued. There’s a job for that? Before you can answer any questions, he stands. Now fully clothed, all except for his shoes.

“Yeah,” he answers, gruffly. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

“You… you did?” Furrowing your eyebrows, it catches you off guard. “How’d… when did you even have the time to do that? You were pretty much glued to me the moment I walked in on you.”

Bakugo smirks. “I’ve got my ways—” Glancing at the clock, he silently curses to himself. “—Anyways, I’ve got to go. See ya around or whatever.”

Your eyes widen at the announcement of his departure, making you sit up in the bed and reach out to him. “Wait!”

“What?” he snaps back, glaring right at you now. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Is that it?” you ask, not sure what exactly that you’re asking. “Is there nothing else?”

“Nothing else to what?” he turns back around. “I’m pretty damn sure you won’t call the cops. That’d be stupid of ya.”

That smirk on his face. Moments ago, you found it to be such a sexually appealing thing, but now you just wanna smack it off his face. “Or what? You want me to say I had a good time with ya? Is that it, doll?”

Your face heats up as you grow flustered. “No.”

“If it makes you sleep better at night,” he crosses his arms, making them bulge even more. “I did.”

With that, he gives you another once over before reaching for the door. Without a goodbye, he swings it open and then shut as he quickly makes his departure.

—

SEVENTY-TWO HOURS LATER

Bang, bang, bang. Three hefty knocks at your door that makes you jump out of your seat from around your very small and quaint living area. You haven’t heard from Bakugo since he’s left, and you don’t know how you expect him to when you don’t even have any way to contact him. However, you were still hopeful— still had him on your mind since the moment he walked out of your small apartment. From the three knocks, you’re hoping that it’s him, coming to devour you like he did three days ago.

“Who is it?” you call out from the other side, but there’s no response. When you look through the small peep hole there’s no one there. Kissing your teeth, you’re about to head back to the couch when something in the back of your mind tells you to turn back around. When you do, you hear the small slip of paper slide from underneath the front door and there’s a singular letter sitting there right at your feet.

Picking it up, the envelope just has your name on it— first and last— nothing else. Not your address and not one from who or where it came from. It reminded you of some of the last things Bakugo told you. “I’ve sent out a recommendation for ya. You seem fit for the job, so I made a call to one of the higher ups to get in contact with ya.”

Ripping open the envelope, you let the tattered thing fall to the ground as you read letter:

Dear (Y/N),

It’s a shame to know that one of our trusted agents was caught during a mission. Truthfully, you should’ve been handled with more care and caution, but if it were to go that way, you wouldn’t be receiving such an invite like this. Agent #B354 has recommended you to join our very secretive profession to be part of our agency.

We will give you another twenty-four hours to make a decision and get your bearings together. Whether or not you accept this invitation, you will be sworn to secrecy about this organization or you will be dealt with accordingly— as you should’ve originally been. If you decide to join, welcome to the team Agent #Y976. If you decide that this profession isn’t for you, you’ll receive a non-disclosure agreement to sign and we wish you the best of luck in life.

From, NMC Organization

( departing words. ) honestly, this fic could've gone on longer and i feel like it could be more detailed, but i don't have the time for that, unfortunately. please leave your comments and feedback below!

#bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha #tw: (n)sfw #tw: dark content #x reader #x black reader #bakugo x black reader #‧₊˚ ⋅ standalone.

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blackpearlblast · 11 months ago

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all slides have alt text! list of links under the cut for those who don't want to bother with retyping the tinyurl

[1] https://www.warresisters.org/resources/pie-chart-flyers-where-your-income-tax-money-really-goes

[2] https://www.politifact.com/article/2023/oct/18/us-aid-to-israel-what-to-know/

[3] https://www.sipri.org/research/armament-and-disarmament/arms-and-military-expenditure/international-arms-transfers

[4] https://israeldefense.co.il/en/node/49077

[5] https://imeu.org/article/an-overview-apartheid-south-africa-israel

[6] https://www.latimes.com/world-nation/story/2023-10-06/israeli-arms-quietly-helped-azerbaijan-retake-nagorno-karabakh-to-dismay-of-armenians

[7] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/

[8] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/war-tax-resisters-taken-court/

[9] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/irs-property-seizures-war-tax-resisters/

[10] https://nwtrcc.org/PDFs/practical3.pdf

[11] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/war-tax-resisters-taken-court/

[12] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/irs-property-seizures-war-tax-resisters/

[13] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/redirection/#altfunds

[14] https://nwtrcc.org/PDFs/practical5.pdf

[15] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/how-to-resist/

[16] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/w-4-resistance/

[17] https://nwtrcc.org/PDFs/practical1.pdf

[18] https://nwtrcc.org/resist/consequences/war-tax-resisters-taken-court/

Other Links:

Slide 6 - https://youtu.be/watch?v=WkWvP32BMUo

Slide 7 - https://nwtrcc.org/2023/12/11/call-to-action-taxblackout2024/

Slide 7 - http://tinyurl.com/WTRLearnerSlide 7 - http://tinyurl.com/WTRSources

#free palestine #free gaza #tax resistance #war tax resistance #anti imperialism #gaza genocide #armenian genocide #sudan #free sudan #keep eyes on sudan #(not on here but israel is also responsible for supplying weapons to the RSF so still relevant)#anti apartheid

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thecanyon · 6 months ago

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🍉 baby activism with ben 🍉

How can YOU join direct action against Israel’s genocide? Here are questions to ask yourself if you don’t know how to act directly:

Where do you live? It’s possible to use social media to find activist groups near your area. Google the name of your city or state plus Palestine on Instagram, set the search results to most recent.

How does your community contribute to the genocide? If it’s through tax dollars, your focus would be on the local or state government. If it’s through buying Israeli products, your focus would be joining a boycott. If there is money in your community that could go towards Palestinians, your focus could be aid. If there are military company offices in your area, your focus would be hurting their business and reputation.

What are your skills? Literally anything could be applied to resistance actions. Maybe you work at a restaurant and can take leftovers to feed people. Maybe you know how to use free printers at the library. Maybe you make stickers. Maybe you upcycle. Maybe you can use a spreadsheet or write an email. Maybe you have lots of free time.

Who do you know? What groups are you apart of? Me and two of my friends started a flyering campaign on our pre-existing class routes using free printers. An existing mutual aid group had a thrift pop up for charity that raised $500. A church group had a bake sale and raised $300. People who worked at the local library have started a History of Palestine teach in series.

Lots of information circling online about activism is coming from people who can join pre-existing large movements. This is how you can start or join direct actions without living near a big city.

#ben.txt #free palestine #baby activism with ben

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exercise-of-trust · 3 months ago

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everyone clap and cheer for my beautiful daughter who has every disease 🥰 her name is þerindë because her wheel is made out of an embroidery hoop; she is entirely handmade and boy howdy does it show

a whole bunch of things have stopped working since i took that video last night and i'm not sure how much more wherewithal i have to keep messing with her, but i did manage to spin about two feet of something before then! so i'm showing her off a bit now, and if i can figure out what-all i fucked up maybe you'll see more of her in the future. some process and progress photos under the cut (not a tutorial. do not do this. i cannot sufficiently stress how bad of an idea this was and is*)

(*if you are going to do this and have questions not answered here i am always happy to answer them, inbox and dms are open etc, but like. i would strongly advise against it)

here's the hoop! it's about a foot across, with a groove carved out with a speedball. this ended up being way too shallow (who'd'a'thunk) so the final version is a lot deeper than what you're seeing here. the paint stirrers are held in with straight pins because i was worried regular nails would just crack the hoop lmao. my girl is so deeply and profoundly scuffed <3

the flyer is made from three cedar shingles glued together because i didn't have a solid piece of wood large enough. astonishingly nothing broke while i was sawing out the rough shape and it whittled down pretty nicely! the hooks are scrap 2mm copper wire, the orfice is a couple inches of plastic drinking straw, and the pulley wheel is also hand-carved, which is why it looks like a fucked-up oreo and has the weird hitch at the top of the spin that you probably saw in the video 🙃 frankly i am astonished it works as well as it does

the wheel frame is. man. the axle supports haven't broken yet but frankly it's a miracle they're still in place with how much strain they're under every time. the original base was that weird little bit of paint stirrer, which (shocker) did not work out in the long run; it's been replaced by an offcut from the frame and is significantly more sturdy now. it's surprisingly level, though, and turns pretty smoothly all things considered!

the frame was a nightmare start to finish; i've never done any serious woodworking before in my life and the whole thing was just kind of slapped together without a plan or any sort of concrete measurement. it wobbles so fucking bad and every few hours i have to push a couple of the parts back together where the nails are sort of drifting out of the wood. you may observe a weird post sticking out the left side of the mother-of-all; that is supposed to be for scotch tensioning. does it actually do that? sort of! the belt is a length of cotton crochet thread that is, after much fiddling, just the right size to not slip out more than once every three minutes.

treadling was another pain to figure out and i think i probably made it way more complicated than it needed to be. it still doesn't work very well and i can't tell if that's something i can fix hardware-wise or if i just have to suck it up and practice a lot more. turns out feet are not as coordinated as hands! i would say "now i know for next time!" but frankly i am never doing this again. you couldn't pay me. speaking of which, i did the math and at my current pre-tax hourly salary i could've bought two brand-new ashford travelers with the number of hours i spent building my awful rickety daughter. at the end of the day, do i love her? immensely. is she "good"? by no stretch of the imagination.

anyway. this was a terrible use of my time <3 but i do finally feel confident enough in all the parts of a spinning wheel and what they're for that i can brave the dangers of facebook marketplace's "spinning wheel" category without getting too badly scammed! which is pretty valuable in its own right, i guess.

#hand spinning #spinning wheel #my darling girl. i love her so much. she is so bad at her job #aggressive linguistic prescriptivism #subcreation

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xialaix · 10 months ago

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Consider Vox redemption arc

Alastor defeats Vox. He, after Vox asks him to finish what he started, is about to deal the finishing blow when Charlie stops him.

She compels Vox through song to at least try redemption first to which Vox reluctantly agrees.

- Husk welcomes him to the “previously overlord, now alastor’s bitch” club with a beer and a nod.

- Angel dust starts bosses him around, kinda the way an older sibling would.

- Alastor just gives him a wicked smile every time they make eye contact. (Vox’s resulting blush is definitely from embarrassment. He absolutely DOES NOT find that smile sexy)

- Sir pentious is just so excited to finally be on the same level as his idol. He comes to Vox’s room uninvited for a sleepover. Vox literally hates it but doesnt throw a fuss.

- Charlie is the one who breaks him. She has everybody give out hand drawn flyers. Vox can’t stand it. Its just so inefficient. He created and maintained a mega corporation, utilizing the latest tech and innovation. Why cant they use photoshop and a printer to make flyers? Why does this hotel have one maid?? Dont they know that roombas exist?

- He proceeds to step into the role of hotel assistant manager. Taking over advertising and giving charlie some pretty solid business advice. He even does their taxes.

#hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #he’s my favorite

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cantsayidont · 2 months ago

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I keep sharing these Gaza evacuation campaigns and eSIMs for Gaza flyers because every single day, it weighs on me that we — and by "we" I mean Americans, but also Canadians, and really most of the rest of the "Western world" to one extent or another — we are directly responsible for the campaign of ethnic cleansing and genocide in Gaza and the Israeli attacks on Lebanon. Our tax money is funding the IDF with unprecedented largesse. When you see people in Gaza sharing photos of gigantic craters, those were made by our fucking bombs. Almost all of our elected officials and political candidates are eagerly complicit. Genocide Joe could substantially curtail the entire war with one phone call, but he won't, and neither will either of the two ghouls vying to replace him. (Trump and the couch-fucker are enthusiastically pro-genocide, and Harris has made absolutely clear that her intention is to continue to uphold the Butcher Biden line of occasional words of meaningless concern while continuing to arm the IDF without condition.)

So, if that bothers you — and it definitely bothers me — the least you can do is donate a few bucks to help the poor people we're helping to terrorize, share their GFM campaign posts, and maybe buy some eSIMs or donate to Crips for eSims for Gaza.

#palestine #gaza #genocide #ethnic cleansing #esims for gaza #crips for esims #butcher biden #genocide joe #vote blue for genocide #vote red for genocide

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shslbunnylover · 11 months ago

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hii, i wanted to request a fluffmas story. one with melissa x reader where it’s their first Christmas as a married couple and reader wants to make it as special as possible

★★★𝘼 𝙎𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞'𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙣 (12 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮 7: 𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙤𝙚 & 𝙂𝙞𝙛𝙩 𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜★★★

Character: Melissa Schemmenti

Requester: Anonymous

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1 (Message me to be a part of the taglist until I get a page set up!!)

Trigger warnings (DL, DI): A couple mentions of sex,

Genre: Fluff (With hints of crack 😉)

A/n: Here ya go anon! Thanks for this request! It was perfect to add to this fic! (Also this gif goes perfectly with the story 🤭)

Word count: 2.0k

...

Being a Schemmenti came with a lot of perks. For one there was the delicious food served up by each family member, plus there was also the bonus of always knowing a guy and having kind in-laws. But for you, the biggest perk of being a Schemmenti was none other than the fiery redhead you were married to, Melissa.

She knew how to take care of herself and you, and she was kind and sweet to all of the kids she taught and every kid she didn't. Her figure was seductive, and her facial expressions would have you squirming in your seat like a schoolgirl who just got passed a note by her crush. The way she treated you in the bedroom made you feel like either a princess or a slut (In a good way of course) depending on your moods, and the way protectiveness she had over you made you feel loved and wanted.

The way your eyes looked at her was like a lovesick puppy looking at a bone, and she'd never let you forget about it.

"What is it with you and those puppy dog eyes?" She'd always ask you, and it would always result in you breaking out in a blush.

There was so much Melissa and the rest of the Schemmenti family had done for you, and all you wanted was to do something for the redhead you loved.

One thing you knew, was that being a Schemmenti meant that you knew how to pull off a plan.

And it all started with a simple shopping trip.

"And how much for the bat protector?" You asked, pulling out your wallet as your thumb ran through the stack of bills saved up inside the pocket.

"That'll be fifteen ninety-nine with tax," The man across the register smiled at you, scanning the item before putting it in a bag. "Is this your husband's Christmas present?"

"Wife's," You corrected him with a chuckle, grabbing the bag as you handed him the cash, placing the change in one of the pockets in your wallet.

"Oh, I see," He nodded, "Have a nice day. I hope she enjoys the cover!"

You walked out of the store in the mall, checking your phone for the time before you quickly ran down the stairs to the lower level of the building. You looked around for the back exit, sighing in relief once you finally found it.

"Now it's time for the best part of surprise 1," You thought out loud, going out through the door into the chilly air, only to be met with a familiar sight.

Anyone who knew Melissa knew she loved Philly and their sports teams, especially the Flyers mascot Gritty, so you found a hookup and paid him to sign the bat cover for Melissa's main Christmas present.

Even though you never got the whole hype around the guy, you just went along with it for Melissa, it was cute how happy she'd get.

"Hello there Gritty," You chuckled, handing him a stack of cash you had saved up from a couple of side hustles and working at extra-curriculars at Abbott (and using thousands of coupons with every purchase you would make through the year).

He simply waved in reply, keeping his public persona as a mascot even though it was just the two of you. The mascot took the tiny stack of cash in one of his large furry paws, putting it in his pocket while you took out the gift.

"Thanks again for coming," You smiled in gratitude, looking at the thing in front of you as you handed him the gift.

You watched as he signed it, secretly taking a photo of the sight before taking back the bat cover.

"You know you didn't have to do this-" You chuckled, pausing at the end. "You aren't going to reply, aren't you?"

The furry orange mascot shook his head, causing you to chuckle.

"Alright then, thanks again for this Gritty. I never got you, but if it makes Melissa happy then I'm all for it," You laughed.

Bored with the silence, you simply waved, saying your goodbyes before getting in your car.

"Mel's gonna love it..." You sighed, putting the gift in a special box you had bought.

"Hon?" Melissa hummed, hugging you from behind as you stood at the kitchen island, grading papers.

"Yeah, baby?" You asked, turning around to kiss her softly on the lips.

"You wanna watch a movie with me?"

"Of course!" You smiled in reply, grabbing her hand as the two of you sat on the couch.

"Wh-"

"No," You cut her off. "What do you wanna watch?" You smirked, looking at Melissa's slightly surprised expression.

"I was thinking of a Hallmark movie..." She replied, her voice going quiet out of embarrassment.

"Oh! That sounds awesome!" You beamed, "I told Jacob you had the best tastes in movies!"

"You are not telling him that I like these sappy ass Hallmark movies-" The redhead threatened, pointing at you.

"I'm not going to tell him, and you know that. I've kept a secret through three years of dating and almost a whole year of marriage," You rolled your eyes.

Melissa chuckled, pulling you close up against her body.

"You're a sweetheart, hon. You know that?" She smirked.

"Oh I know, that's why I'm planning on making this the best Christmas ever for you~" You replied with a wink, watching as a soft smile formed on her face.

"Any Christmas with you is the best Christmas ever," Melissa reassured you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

When Christmas day finally arrived, the two of you exchanged gifts like every year, but you kept the special gift until her family came over, much to her confusion.

"Trying to keep me waiting huh? It better not be anything dirty- You know Vinny will never allow me to let that go," Melissa looked at you with narrowed eyes as she swept the floors.

"It's not Mel!" You chuckled, finishing up your job of setting up the table and organizing the kitchen.

"Good-" The redhead looked at you. "I wouldn't mind it if it was~ I'd just prefer not to have my Ma look at any part of my sex life," She winked, causing you to blush.

"I don't want my mother-in-law looking at my sex life either Mel," You reminded her with a sassy tone. "That's why I'm now deciding to give it to you after they're here,"

But before Melissa could reply, the doorbell went off, just in time as the house had now been fully cleaned.

"Speak of the devil," You chuckled, running up to the door to let them in.

"Hey there Y/n!" Melissa's mom hugged you tightly, "How are ya?" She asked, kissing you on each cheek like she always did.

"I'm good Teresa, Mel is in the kitchen, everything is set out," You pointed in the direction of the kitchen before saying your greetings to everyone else.

One tradition you loved participating in was the Secret Santa, every year the Schemmenti would sit down and draw out of a hat who'd they get the gift for, but it was different. The gifts could only cost under 5 dollars.

But once everyone was handing out their actual gifts, you all would hand out the Secret Santa gifts, and the chaos would ensue.

"Oh my god- What the hell is this Vinny?" You exclaimed through laughter, holding up a toilet LED light.

"It was on sale! Amazon had it for 3 dollars!" The man defended himself. "Plus, we only had 5 dollars to spend!"

"What the hell made you think this was a good purchase?" Melissa cackled, bending over in laughter.

"Maybe you needed to see when you go to the bathroom at night!"

"We have light switches for that, you dumbass!" You laughed, holding your stomach as it began to hurt out of laughter.

"Oh, whatever! You just bought her a couple of scratch-offs!" Vinny replied, gesturing to Kristin-Marie as he tried to hold down his laughter (and failed miserably).

"At least those can make her money!" You scoffed, "Plus she loves those things,"

"She's got you on that one Vin-" Kristin-Marie chuckled as she looked at her scratch-offs.

"You all suck-"

"You love us though," Teresa said through her laughter.

Once everyone had gone home, you brought Melissa to the Christmas tree, picking up the box hidden in the corner as you looked at her.

"So are ya finally gonna show me what it is?" Melissa smirked, watching you stand back up, her smirk becoming a soft smile as she heard you starting to speak.

"Melissa, you've done so much for me, and I love you so much... Merry Christmas," You smiled, handing her the gift and watching as she opened it.

You watched as she picked up the cover, looking at the signature as her eyes widened and she covered her mouth.

"You're joking right?!" Melissa gasped.

You shook your head, showing her the photo you had taken a couple of days earlier when the mascot was signing the gift for her.

"It's real, I thought it'd be a nice cover for Edith," You chuckled, knowing how much she loved her emotional support baseball bat.

The redhead in front of you wiped a tear from her eye, smiling like a kid who had just gotten their favorite candy.

"I-I...I'm speechless," She whispered. "Thank you... All that effort you put into this means the world to me... You didn't have to,"

"But I wanted to, let me say I love you in my way," You replied. "Just this once?"

Melissa looked up a bit, noticing the mistletoe she had hung up a couple of days ago as a ploy to get more kisses from you.

"Then let me say I love you too," The green-eyed woman said in a soft and loving tone that you only heard in the privacy of your shared home before she pulled you into a deep kiss, her hands grabbing softly at every inch of your body.

"Mmmm..." You hummed in satisfaction after a minute passed and you pulled away for air. "So, was I right? Did I give you a good Christmas?"

Melissa nodded, hugging you tightly.

"The best Christmas ever,"

...

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa schemmenti #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #wlw #wlw ns/fw #nblw #nblw ns/fw #wlw and nblw only #fluff #12 days of fluffmas #12 days of ficmas #Akira writes #lisa ann walter

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hiromusicarts-blog · 4 months ago

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新譜「叙情 - Lyric Suite」ですが、先にフライヤーデータが届きました。サンプル盤は、７月１７日に到着予定です（例年に比べ２週間ほど遅いです）今回のジャケットは、名古屋、鶴舞公園の噴水塔で、薔薇の季節に撮影したものを加工しています。追記：HMVは、６月２９日の段階で、新譜が9月25日に発売決定したとの商品情報を発表しました商品詳細です。ジャズマンヒロオガワが創り奏る、クラシカルな作曲作品集。タイトル「叙情 – Lyric Suite」　アーティスト「ヒロオガワ」２０２４年９月25日（水）発売　レーベル：サウンドデザインワークス　　　　発売元：Hiro Music & Arts 定価¥2.200-（+税込）　　品番：HMA-9852 形式：CD（全１２曲収録）　取り扱い：全国のCDショップ（お取り寄せ、新星堂を除く） Amazon、HMV、タワレコ、楽天ブックス等オンラインショップ　　　音楽配信：iTunes(Apple Music)、Spotify、Deezer、d-ミュージック、my sound　レコチョク、mora 等、 The flyer data for the new album "Lyric Suite" has already arrived. The sample disc is scheduled to arrive on July 17th (about two weeks later than usual). The jacket for this album was edited from a photo taken at the fountain tower in Tsuruma Park, Nagoya, during rose season. Update: On June 29th, HMV announced product information that the new album will be released on September 25th. Product details: A collection of classical compositions created and performed by jazzman Hiro Ogawa. Title: "Lyric Suite" Artist: "Hiro Ogawa" Released: Wednesday, September 25, 2024 Label: Sound Design Works Publisher: Hiro Music & Arts List price: ¥2,200 (+tax) Product code: HMA-9852 Format: CD (12 songs total) Available at: CD shops nationwide (This is a back-ordered item. Shinseido does not handle this item.) Online stores such as Amazon, HMV, Tower Records, and Rakuten Books, etc Music distribution: iTunes (Apple Music), Spotify, Deezer, d-Music, my sound Recochoku, mora, etc.

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#ヒロオガワ #サウンドデザインワークス #新譜 #叙情 #LyricSuite #Orchestral #Ensemble #Piano #フライヤー

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avocado-writing · 2 years ago

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bowser x gn!reader

1.6k words

part 1 of ?

rated: T (for now)

summary: you’re happy with your lot as nanny to the koopalings... until a chance encounter with the king sets your life off in a very different trajectory.

Few people like their jobs, but you’re lucky enough to count yourself among them.

Sure, there were places to work that weren’t as covered in lava. A little less rowdy and loud. But you’ve lived in the Dark Lands for so long they’re home now, and how you couldn’t imagine a day without needing to dodge a spit of errant fire from the ground.

Well, maybe you could. But you know now how to listen out for the telltale crack before an eruption, so you’re much less flammable than you used to be!

Maybe things would have been different if you didn’t get the job so… normally. Several years ago you saw a “help wanted” flyer advertising for a royal nanny, and, with Bowser’s reputation, people weren’t exactly chomping at the bit to apply. But you’d always had a way with kids so decided to give it a shot. This has been back when it was only Ludwig and Morton, and they’d only been young - not the eight terrors nowadays. It wasn’t so much a trial shift as a “try not to let them kill you” challenge, and when they didn’t you were hired immediately by a snivelling little man you’d later come to know as Kamek.

You never grew to like Kamek, exactly, but you loved the Koopalings. Your original duties hadn’t been too taxing. Mostly just some gentle discipline and education, as well as keeping them from maiming each other. They were rowdy kids. But they quickly grew fond of you and you of them, and it wasn’t long before the kids were acting like you’d always been there: a trusted adult who they could rely on to look after them.

Nowadays you can truly say that they’re sweet kids. Boisterous but with a soft side buried beneath - a lot like their father in that way.

Ah, Bowser. You can still remember the first time you met him. All those years ago. You’d been employed for a couple of weeks, and were hard at work cleaning up the playroom when a pitter-pattering of tiny feet let you know someone was approaching. And when Morton entered the room in tears and ran to hug you, instinct kicked in and you held the little tyke close. Ludwig had been going through a phase of teasing him about his star-shaped birthmark and Morton hadn’t been taking it very well. It led to fisticuffs almost certainly and tears more often than not.

“Oh honey, don’t listen to him,” you hummed, rubbing his shell soothingly. From his sniffles you knew you’d hit the nail on the head, “I like your star.”

Morton had pulled back enough to study your face, try and scrutinise it in search of a lie, but when he found you were sincere managed a wobbly smile.

Then Bowser threw the door off of its hinges.

“Morton-?!”

His eyes were wide, confused, a little angry as he took you in. As if trying to work out why his child would be in the arms of a stranger. Then his face softened as he put the pieces together in his mind.

“Uh, new nanny Kamek hired, right?”

“Yes sire,” you replied, a bit dazed from the splintered wood you just had to dodge, and not wanting to untangle from the distressed child to bow so instead choosing to nod deeply. Bowser looked at how Morton clung to you, his little muzzle buried into your clothes for comfort.

“Morton, you okay, little buddy?” he asked, more gently than the rumours about him led you to believe was possible. Morton nodded but stayed in your arms. Bowser let out a sigh.

“Okay, well… good.” He looked up at you. “You uh, keep doing that.”

So you did.

It was strange, seeing such a gentle side to Bowser from the offset. You’d heard he was a fearsome and fierce ruler - and, well, he was - but he also was a devoted father, too. And as more Koopalings came along to pad out the pack you found yourself growing happier and happier with your work. You were paid very handsomely, you were safe in the castle, and the children loved you so much that you were practically part of the family.

And… Bowser. Well, so what if your heart had a funny fluttering feeling inside it when you saw him sit down to have a tea party with his kids? That didn’t have to mean anything. Anyone would feel that way about a strong, handsome king. Besides you were certain he saw you as no more than a friendly face, a trusted confidant. Someone who’d been a rock by his side for years. He didn’t need to worry about his children when you were there to corral them.

You were content with your lot in life.

And maybe things would have stayed that way if you hadn't happened upon Bowser after that fight.

It’s been a normal day. After a rowdy lesson which turned into less violence than you thankfully expected, the kids had headed off to do some kart racing. Now you’re just off to tidy the nursery - though perhaps the children are a little too old to call it that, it’s mostly referred to as the “games room” where their more expensive electronics are kept - before retiring to your quarters for the night. You expect to just have to clean up a few abandoned snack wrappers… so the breath is knocked out of you when you see the trail of blood.

Immediately you assume it’s one of the kids. Nanny instincts kicking in you take off down the corridor, round the corner, and -

See Bowser there. In the games room. He’s digging through one of your cabinets, muttering to himself. In fact he doesn’t even notice you approach him until your foot catches an abandoned controller; it goes skittering across the room and bumps against the wall, making the king jump and spin around to face you. There’s a nasty gash along his arm and he winces when you notice it - you’re not sure if it’s because of the pain or the fact you’ve caught him with your first aid kit in hand, trying to bandage himself up.

“Are you all right, sir?” you ask, quickly gathering your wits. Bowser huffs.

“Yeah, just got beat up is all.”

You frown. You’ve helped raise his children for long enough to know when he’s hiding something.

“It was that plumber again, wasn’t it?”

Another wince, but this time followed by a nod. You hold out your hand and motion towards the kit he’s clutching like a lifeline.

“Here, give that to me. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re using your ‘no-nonsense’ voice and it works a charm. Bowser sighs and complies easily, heading to the nearest beanbag and planting himself down on it. He mutters a little in irritation as the spikes on his shell pierce the fabric and a few beans spill onto the floor.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m used to patching those up for the kids,” you state, kneeling in front of him and opening the first aid box. Bowser watches you in intrigued silence as you clean the wound thoroughly before beginning to bandage it.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

His voice is gentle enough to make you stop what you’re doing and look up. You’re not sure you’ve ever really noticed the colour of his eyes before. They’re a sort of dark red-brown. It’s nice.

“Anything you want, my king.”

“Look, just ‘Bowser’ is fine, okay? We’ve been friends long enough.”

His admission of this surprises you, and sends a warm feeling through you that you don’t have time to dissect.

“Alright… Bowser. Fire away.”

“Do I scare you?”

Carefully you tie off the bandage before sitting back on your haunches to face him.

“Not really.” He seems surprised. “Oh, uh, sorry - do you want to scare me?”

“Well, no, I guess not. Just I’m kinda scary looking, y’know? The spikes and the fire and all that. That doesn’t freak you out?”

To add to this he begins to summon flames in the back of his throat. They dance against his teeth. He’d certainly seem menacing if you didn’t know better.

“Nope, not at all. I’ve looked after most of your children through their terrible twos, being three-nagers, and you would not believe how well equipped I am to deal with fire. If any of the kids even try that with me they get a time out. Don’t make me give you one, too.”

You say that last part as a joke, but don’t miss the way Bowser’s jaw visibly clenches at the idea. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s annoyed or… for some other reason. Flustered a little you decide to try and move on.

“There, all done. If you get hurt again just come straight to me, I don’t mind patching you up.”

You go to put the kit back, assuming that will be the end of things.

“Uh, thanks for doing all this. You’re… you’re nice to talk to.”

His voice is small, like he’s telling you a secret. It elicits a genuine smile from you as you turn around to face him. He’s looking at his claws, a sure sign of shyness - you know because Junior does it too.

“You’re nice to talk to too, Bowser.”

The way his face lights up makes your heart begin to race.

Hmm. You might be in trouble here.

lmk if you’d like to be tagged for future parts!

#bowser x reader #bowser x you #bowser reader insert #bowser x y/n #bowser fanfic #fic: the king and the nanny

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