#and it looks fun like the combat n shit

[foxstens]

i wanna play elden ring :(((((((((((((((((((((

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

A/N: It took me some time, but here we go again. Chapter Seven, my friends. Just something stupid, fun.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: none

Summary: It's a fun night out at a bar.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 3300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Six

LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. When was the last time she dressed up and put on make-up? She couldn’t recognise herself in the mirror. Since she came to the school, she would wear simple outfits and almost any make-up. Tonight, she wanted to look nice and make an impression on the people. Hell, she desired to catch Logan’s eyes. Honestly, she would catch his eyes even without all those things.

White blouse, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket - this was her style. She put her hair into a high ponytail. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at herself in the mirror. It felt like lifetimes since she felt this confident and sexy. Damn, even the drawn cat-eye looked good. 

She winked at herself in the mirror and then glanced at her phone. Yes, they’d given her a phone. It was time to head out. She put it into the back pocket of her jeans. Before leaving, she had to check herself one more time just to be sure everything was perfect. 

To her surprise, she didn’t see any familiar faces. Usually, the students would walk around the school at this hour and hang out. Some noises came from the kitchen or the TV room. She didn’t recognise JJ’s voice. Maybe he was in his room.

Y/N made a mental note to spend more time with the boy. She didn’t keep her promise when she told him she’d come to him before the accident happened. 

“Well, look at you,” said a voice beside her. 

Y/N jumped, gasping. She was ready to hit the man in his face. “Jesus, Peter,” she glared at him. “You scared me, you ass,” she punched him in the shoulder. He could have easily dodged it, but he decided to not use his ability and laughed it off. 

“You get scared easily, Y/N. You should work on that,” he winked at her. “Can I walk with you?” he raised a brow. 

“You already are, so why ask?” she grinned at him. 

They walked out of the school and headed to the main entrance gate. Peter kept his hands behind his back. He had silver aviator goggles on top of his head that matched his silver jacket. “So, Y/N, what is your weirdness? You know about mine. I want to know about yours.” 

That made her laugh. “Nice way of saying it. I have, uh, protective abilities?” 

“You ask, or you know?” 

She glared at him playfully. “I know. I wasn’t sure if that description was correct. Let me put it this way - I can create and manipulate forcefields.” 

“Nice.” That was his only comment. “So, you have a codename?” 

“What?” she raised a brow. 

“You know, like Scott is Cyclops. Logan is Wolverine. I am Quicksilver,” he explained. “Do you have any name you go by?” 

Wheels were turning inside her head. “No,” she said. “I never thought about it, actually. Do I need one?” Was it necessary to have a codename? Holy shit, Logan was called the Wolverine? She could see why. It suited him well. 

“That’s up to you, I guess.  Okay, changing the topic - how long have you been here?” 

“Over a month,” she replied. “It’s been a hell of a ride. What about you?” 

He thought about it. “It’s been over a decade. I love this place, to be honest.” 

They slowly approached the main gate. They could see some people standing there, talking. Y/N was sure Logan was not there. “You took a break or something?” 

Peter nodded. “I needed some time off. It was all overwhelming. Charles granted me a lengthy vacation. I took a break, travelled the States, and here I am, ready to work again.”

Storm, Kitty and Kurt were the first three there, chatting. Y/N felt some excitement building inside of her. It was nice being a part of something bigger and better. Both Storm and Kitty were great women and friends. Were they friends? God, she hoped so. The last three to arrive were Bobby, Logan and Rogue. Rogue and Logan were squabbling. She couldn’t hear what it was about until she heard: “Let it fucking go, Rogue.” 

She had to chuckle. What got Logan so worked up? 

“Let’s fucking go, people,” Peter called them.

Thus, a thirty-minute walk to the bar started. Rogue linked arms with Y/N, and they walked ahead of everyone. Her arms were covered with gloves that hid under the denim jacket. That way, she could touch the other woman without fear of hurting her.

“Isn’t it annoying?” Y/N asked her. 

“The gloves? Yes, a little bit. Luckily, I can touch Remy without them,” she said with a smile. “He’s the only person that I won’t hurt. I don’t know how it is possible, but I don’t care. What matters is that I can touch the person I love.” 

“What if you subconsciously learnt to not hurt him?” Y/N thought out loud. “I can shut my brain from the Professor. I don’t know how, but I do it. Well, I might have already figured it out.”

They talked together the entire way to the bar. Rogue wouldn’t let anyone speak to Y/N. She wanted to have her for herself and get to know the woman better. 

Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her back the whole time. She suppressed the urge to turn around and look at Logan. She was more than sure it was him staring at her. It kept happening until they arrived at the empty bar. 

It looked like an old dive bar. Country music was playing in the background. An older-looking man was standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses. He had short white hair and glasses on his nose. When his grey eyes found a group of mutants at the door, he smiled. 

“Welcome, friends,” he greeted them with a raspy voice. “I was wondering when I will see you again. Come, sit. Ah, I see a new face here,” his lips crooked into a smile. 

Rogue grabbed Y/N by the shoulder and brought her closer to the man. “This is Y/N,” she said happily. “She’s been with us for some time now.” 

“Nice to meet you,” said Y/N, shaking hands with the man. 

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“A beer would be nice, thank you,” she replied with a smile. They told her the owner was a mutant. What was his mutation? 

Rogue took her to the table where the rest of the people were seated. Y/N sat next to Storm, right opposite Logan. Rogue sat by the man’s side. 

It felt like a friendly gathering. The atmosphere was inviting. It’s been years since Y/N felt safe in a group. They were all like her, unique and not criminals. When Y/N’s eyes travelled around the table, her soul got warmer and relaxed. A gentle smile appeared on her face. She listened to Bobby talk about his day. The teens got on his nerves today. 

“In case you haven’t heard,” Storm interrupted him. “Y/N will become the newest English and Literature teacher.” 

“No kidding!” Rogue shouted excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

All eyes were on her now. “I asked the Professor today,” she explained. “I don’t know. I simply didn’t. I kind of forgot, I guess.” 

“Another smartass,” Logan commented. 

“Aren’t you one, too?” Y/N glared at him, her lips turning into a grin. “Listen, I asked if he’d need an English teacher, and Charles said yes. I’m glad that I would be able to repay him at least a little.” 

The bartender brought them a tray of beers. They all grabbed one. Y/N put the drink to her lips and took a sip. Then another one. Before she knew it, she drank the whole glass in one go. She burped a little and smiled. “Damn, that was a good beer.” When her eyes lifted from the empty glass, everyone stared at her. Some had their mouths open, and others were impressed. “What? It’s been years.” 

“You’ll be out before you know it,” Bobby warned her. “Be careful.” 

“So,” Rogue clapped her hands. It got everyone’s attention. “Since we are all here, let’s get more information about Y/N.” 

“Oh, no,” Y/N hid her face in her hands.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Storm nudged her shoulder. “We want to know everything about you. Let’s start with the basics. Tell us something interesting about yourself. For example, I like gardening.” 

Y/N peeked at Storm, raising a brow. “That’s quite shocking. I could never picture you in a garden, on your knees and covered in dirt.” 

“The more you know. Now, it’s your turn.” 

“Ah,” Y/N sighed and thought about her life. “I used to attend guitar lessons,” she said after a while. “My parents made me take guitar lessons. That was years ago. I don’t think I remember anything.” 

“At least someone who’s not tone-deaf,” Peter commented. “I can’t listen to some of you singing off-key.” 

“I’m saying I played the guitar, not that I can sing,” Y/N corrected him. 

“It’s still the same,” Peter shrugged. 

“Anything else?” Storm asked. 

Y/N’s eyes moved around the place. She found darts and a pool table farther away. “Nothing is interesting about me,” she said. “I’m going to get another beer. Anyone want anything else?” she asked them. 

Y/N’s eyes fell on Logan’s empty glass, and she raised a brow. Their eyes locked. It was a silent plea to save her from the interrogation. “I’ll go with you,” he said. 

They walked from the table and straight to the bar. Logan ordered them more beer. He leaned against the wooden counter, elbows resting on it. “Everyone is curious about you,” he commented. 

“I hate that,” she sighed. “It’s like going to a confession. They all get information, and I get nothing out of it. It makes me nervous. I feel like the least interesting person here.” She turned her body to him. “Back in the day, when I started high school, this was a nightmare. People wanted to know everything to convince themselves that their lives were more interesting than others.” 

Logan’s eyes travelled around her body until they landed back on her face. “True,” he shrugged. “But here, people are genuinely curious and want to know you. You are part of the team, you know?” 

“It feels forced,” said Y/N. 

The bartender handed them beers, and he winked at Y/N. She chuckled at that. He wasn’t too discreet about the flirting. Then again, she didn’t mind. 

Her eyes landed on the pool table again. “Listen. Do you want to play?” she pointed with her head. 

Logan turned to look at it and then back at her, smirking. “Not only do you want me to kick your ass during training. You also want to lose playing pool?” 

“Is that a threat I hear in your voice? I will beat you,” she threatened with a finger.

“Only one way to find out, princess,” he grabbed his beer. “We’ll have a game, Stan,” Logan said to the bartender. 

Storm and Kitty watched them walk around the pool table and play. They both had grins on their faces, squabbling here and there. “They are so blind,” Kitty whispered to Storm.

“Let them have this dance,” Storm whispered back. “Five bucks, they’ll end up together by the end of the month.” 

“I’m giving them a week,” Bobby joined on the bet. 

Y/N held the billiard cue tightly in her hand. Logan was the one who started the game. They flipped a coin, and he won. Logan got himself solids while Y/N remained with the stripes. When he screwed up his move, it was time for her to play. The last time she played pool was years ago. It was a game she wasn’t able to master. All she could do was to try and have a good time. 

She sank one of her balls and moved to another one. She leaned over the table, placed the cue on the table and focused. There weren’t any good shots for her. Therefore, she had to play something and try. 

Logan stood next to her and laughed. “Your stance is wrong,” he said. He reached for her hand and brought it higher on the cue. 

His body was oh so close to her, and Y/N forgot how to breathe. She could smell the cigars, a heavy man’s cologne and something musky. When he pulled away, his hand brushed against her lower back. It made her hit a ball that sank one of his solid balls. “Shit,” she cursed. 

Logan’s howling laughter echoed around the bar. “You really want me to win, princess.” 

“You are distracting me,” she frowned at him when she straightened her stance. She reached for her beer and drank from it. 

Her eyes were stalking him, watching his every move. When did he light up a cigar? He held it between his lips while he played his turn. Y/N huffed. She took off her leather jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. Then, she fixed her blouse and popped open the highest button to show some cleavage. If he could distract, so could she. 

He sank two other balls when the third try was unsuccessful. “Fuck,” he growled. 

Y/N snickered. She walked to the table and scanned her stripes. This round sucked. There was nothing good to play. She sat at the edge and held the cue behind her back. 

“You won’t be able to make it,” Logan stared at the scene. “It’s a difficult move, kid.” 

Y/N exhaled and hit the red stripe ball perfectly. “Ha!” she shouted happily when the ball sank. “Did you see that?” 

Logan smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Go on, it’s still your turn,” he goaded her. “Show me what else you can do.” He took a drag of the cigar.

Y/N felt confident. Even though she was three balls behind, she started to believe she could win. She gave him a smug face as she walked around the table, trying to find another good shot. It was all fun and games. When she brushed past him, Logan wanted to grab her by the neck and bring her lips to his. He only took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. 

Y/N leaned over the table and hovered the cue on the table. There was one ball that had the potential of being taken down. She took a deep breath. Again, Y/N felt Logan’s eyes on her body. She started burning up. With this knowledge, she hit the white ball, and with some dumb luck, she managed to sink the black eight ball. 

“No!” she shouted, horrified. 

Logan’s roaring laughter brought everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he placed a hand on his belly. “You did not!”

Y/N leaned against a wall and hid her head in her arms. “What the fuck was that?!” she shouted, pissed. 

Laughter came from the table where the rest of the people sat. They saw what happened. “Oh, Y/N, no,” Kitty gasped, laughing. 

“I’m never playing this dumb game again,” Y/N made a dramatic announcement. “Oh my god,” she pushed from the wall and turned around. She noticed all eyes on her. “Listen,” she blushed. “I am talented. I am the best there is. I should stick to drinking,” she said ironically. 

“Hey, hey,” Logan walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “If you’d like, I can also kick your ass while playing darts,” he teased. 

She glared at him. “Very funny,” she shook off his hand and went to get her beer. “I will kick your ass when we have the next training session,” she threatened. Once she got to her beer, she went back to him. “I will find a way to burn all your clothes.”

Logan tilted his head and grinned. “If you want to see me without clothes, all you need to do is ask.” 

“Is that a challenge?” she looked into his eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Think twice, or you might regret it.” And then, she drank the rest of her second beer in one go. “Refill?” 

He snorted. “You’ll get drunk, princess.” 

“Well, you only live once, right?” she shrugged and walked to the bar to order another beer. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone talked and laughed. Y/N wasn’t interrogated as she was at the very beginning. Bobby told her about the students and what to expect from them. Kitty added some of her funniest memories and challenges as a teacher. Storm included what to do when the school is under attack.

“It happens,” she said. “Not often, but at least once a year.” 

Before they knew it, Y/N was on her fifth beer and feeling it. Her face was burning, the world spinning, and she could feel it in her veins. Her voice got louder, and words went flying out of her mouth.

“I love my life,” Y/N said out of nowhere. Some giggles spread around. “Everything’s good, you know? I have a place to sleep, food to eat, and amazing friends,” she said with a wide smile. “I fucking hope we are friends.”

“Of course we are,” Bobby nodded.

“No more beer for you, young lady,” said Peter. “By the way, how is it possible to get drunk from beer?” 

She took a big, dramatic breath. “Let me tell you a short story, my friend. When you are locked up for years, barely able to eat and an involuntary abstainer, you can get drunk easily.” 

More laughter followed. “Take it easy, girl,” Storm patted her shoulder. 

Y/N stood up from their table. “I’m going outside to take a breather and clear my head.” She tripped over her feet but managed to stand tall. “It’s the floors,” she blamed it. 

The midnight air was cold. Y/N walked outside without her leather jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Getting drunk was not the plan. On the other hand, the beer tasted good. It eased her nerves. Walking around Logan got easier the more she drank. That fucker was such a tease. 

Y/N let her hair loose and put the elastic band between her fingers. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and face. 

How would his lips feel against mine? Where did that question come from? Her mind was racing miles. All she could see was Logan’s face and those lips she wanted to taste. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. 

“You okay, kid?” 

She sighed. Of course, Logan would be the first one to check up on her. It was nice. But it brought back all those impure thoughts. 

“I’d like another beer,” she said to him. 

“Go get some. But I’m warning ya, I’m not the one carrying ya back to the school.” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Y/N winked at him. When she took a step, she almost tripped again. Sighing, she said, “Seriously, what is with the floor?” 

“Y/N, you are drunk,” said Logan. “The floor is fine. Also, you are outside, so there is ground under your feet. I think it’s time to go back to school.” 

“You are right,” she nodded and yawned. “I’m going to get my jacket. I’ll head back to school. You guys have fun.” Y/N wanted to walk inside to get her belongings. However, Logan stopped her. Y/N was about to protest, but she noticed he already had her jacket. “How did you get that? You are not the one who can run fast. That’s Peter.” 

Logan was a bit annoyed when she mentioned his name. He put the jacket around her shoulders. “Come on, princess. Let’s get ya home.” 

“You are coming with me?” she looked up at him, confused. “Why?”

“You think I’m letting you walk there alone in this state? Come on, Y/N, I’m not leaving you when you are drunk and barely able to walk on your own.” 

A bright smile appeared on her face. “Aw, you are my knight in shining armour,” she sang. 

[justwinginglife]

Omg! Hii!

Anyways, I would love for you to write something like, maybe y/n is petty, because soshiro and y/n were both battling it out for the vice captain job? Soshiro Thinks Y/n hates his guts because shes always roasting him. Oneday, he stumbles opon her diary, and finds out shes actually a die-hard simp

OH MAYBE SHE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE "I love it when he bosses me around' EHEHE

Anyways love your fics!! <3

@soshirohoshinasimp Yay it's you again! Hello dear, so happy you love my fics! Appreciate you so much. I hope you continue writing as well! Also, thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun writing it, it's definitely one of my favs.

Follow Me

You and Hoshina butt heads so frequently it was a wonder your heads weren't permanently mashed together at this point.

It started when you both met during the Defense Force Exam- he had already taken down a third of the kaiju in the arena and he had the nerve to snatch one of your kills from you, the attention-seeking bastard. You had your gun aimed and ready, finger curled around the trigger, about to shoot, and he swooped in and sliced the kaiju to bits. In response, you chased him all over the training grounds, sniping every beast he went after before he could even react. And that was how he found out that there was actually someone who could keep up with his speed. Yeah, he was annoyed as shit, which pleased you immensely.

Then, when you were both rookie officers in the same division, you'd constantly be competing over combat power. He'd increase his stamina through vigorous training, bragging to you that he was at 40% and then you'd shoot back that he was still too damn slow because you were at 45%. Then he'd learn a new sword style technique and hit 50% with a smug look on his stupid face and you'd rush to keep up, vowing to him you'd make him choke on your dust one day when you left him behind. Sometimes you'd swear that just the act of pissing you off upped his combat power because it gave him the biggest rush. Some days, you weren't even sure if he cared about the numbers anymore, he just liked to push your buttons. Well you always pushed right back.

You accidentally glimpsed some old pics of Hoshina when he was a kid and you realized he'd had the same haircut his entire life so he must have one hell of a consistent barber. And that barber had to have hella dirt on him, having known him his whole life. So, of course, you tracked down his barber (like any sane person would do, right?) and coaxed him into telling you stories about Hoshina when he was little.

The next day, the base was abuzz with gossip about the time that Hoshina almost drowned at the hair salon because he tried to scoot further up in his chair while his barber was still shampooing him and he hit his head on the faucet, choking down the water in the process, and Hoshina just knew you had something to do with it. After all, how could it have not been you? You had the most satisfied, most devilish look on your face all day, though you never admitted it was you who spread the rumors.

After that day, it seemed nothing was off limits anymore. Hoshina spread hideous pictures of you with braces on when you were a teenager all throughout campus (to this day, you were still unsure how on earth he found them, you thought you'd destroyed all trace of the evidence) and as payback, you hid erectile dysfunction medications in his bag and then slit a hole in the bottom of it so when he spilled the contents of his bag in the locker room the next day in front of all the other officers and then denied it vehemently the other officers just took his denial as further confirmation of his... issue.

But as nasty as both of your pranks seemed, some of them were actually quite amusing, even endearing. You'd had a bad day at work one day and to cheer you up (you think), Hoshina set a litter of puppies loose in your bedroom. You did have a shit ton (pun intended) of shit to clean up after that, but it didn't matter, you'd already cheered up when you saw their adorable wagging tails and big round eyes. So, to repay him, you filled every square inch of his room with bottles of his favorite coffee. He couldn't sleep on his own bed for weeks, but at least he had a long lasting supply of wake-up juice.

And the two of you got to know each other extremely well through all this competing and bickering. He'd figured out what time you liked to go to your favorite bakery and he'd buy out their entire stock of your favorite pastry before you got there. It took you awhile to figure out how they were always cleaned out of only your favorite snack everyday, but then one day you got injured in a fight and you found him leaving a chocolate croissant by your hospital bed when you woke up.

It seemed like things were taking a different turn than you'd thought, and maybe the two of you could actually be friends for once, instead of rivals.

But then you both got the same letter saying that one of you would be the new Vice Captain of the Third Division and it all depended on your performance going forward.

"Only 70% combat power, huh? Not very 'Vice Captain' of you. Maybe I'll have less competition than I thought." You'd smugly say to him in passing.

He'd roll his eyes and say, "Oh yeah? And how's that training of yours going by the way? Cuz I could've sworn I beat you by nearly half a mile in that last marathon, getting slow in your old age?"

You were the same damn age as him. Fucker.

But even though the two of you would tease each other like you always did, you could tell that this time things were different. There were actual stakes on the line and one of your futures would be greatly impacted by this. You were both so young, it would be an impressive feat to be Vice Captain at this age. Both of you wanted that badge of honor to parade around.

Eventually, you were neck and neck. Both about 90% each. For the first time you were evenly matched. It was anyone's call who'd be the next Vice Captain.

It even crossed your mind that neither of you would ever be Vice Captain and the two of you would just be locked in a life long battle to be better than the other. But one day, something changed your mind and changed the course of both of your futures.

You saw him training someone in secret, someone who had absolutely no chance of being in the Defense Force and honestly had no business being in the Defense Force with how weak he was. But Hoshina saw his potential and he spent his free time nurturing that potential. That made you think about all the other little things Hoshina would do like this.

If someone was down about their skill level, he'd always point out something that was so obviously impressive about them and his simple logic would always win them over, cheering them up. Because how could he be wrong if it actually made sense? He'd say it like it was a simple statement, like he was just reciting a fact, but you knew he'd put thought into trying to comfort them.

If a kaiju was particularly difficult to defeat, Hoshina would look at all the angles, strategizing different ways to bring them down, ways that normal people wouldn't even consider. Even if it was crazy, if it was possible, if it would save more people, he'd do it with no hesitation.

He was fearless and strong, but he was also selfless and kind. And you'd started to adore that about him.

So you wrote a letter to the Captain of the Third Division withdrawing your desire to be Vice Captain, saying you'd follow wherever Hoshina led.

It was your little secret. Until it wasn't.

You swore you saw Hoshina coming out of your room one day, but when you didn't find it filled to the brim with anything, didn't see any trace of his usual pranks, you thought you might have imagined things.

But then when he ignored you for an entire week, not even bothering to tease you or respond to your teasing, you knew something was very wrong. You even started to miss him annoying you, and that realization deepened the pit in your stomach even further.

Then he showed up at your door.

"Can I... can I come in?"

You stared at him for a moment. "Um... sure?" You stepped aside awkwardly, unsure what was about to happen, but you missed him so much you'd let it happen anyway.

He paced in front of your desk for a moment and then he finally said, "I got the Vice Captain position."

You smiled. "Congrats. I'm happy for you."

He groaned at that. "Don't. Don't do that, don't say that. I only got the position because of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could be talking about. Surely he didn't know about your letter... right? "What do you mean? You got the position because you deserved it." Your words were still true, you did feel he was the best person for the job.

"Yeah but you wrote that damn letter. At first I was so pissed at you, and then I was so pissed off at myself for feeling like I couldn't have gotten the spot without you."

You gulped. Well shit. Cat's out of the fucking bag now.

"Hoshina-"

"No, I'm not done yet. Let me finish."

You let him continue but you sank into the couch, feeling like the shock of having this conversation was too much to handle standing.

"I read your diary. I felt like we'd been so stressed lately competing for Vice Captain, I thought a lighthearted joke would bring us back to where we were before, so I wanted to see what I could do to get you to smile again. So I flipped through your diary, and yes, I know where you hide it, don't even give me that look- you're not very good at hiding things and you know I know you too well for this."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. The familiar sound eased your nerves a little. Just a little. You still held your breath as he continued, wondering just how much he read.

"I was shocked by the way, here I was thinking you hated me and I come to find out that you think it's cute when I boss you around and you actually like being around me." He teased, nudging you playfully.

You flushed at that but remained silent.

"But then I read that you'd sent in the letter withdrawing from the running. I was so furious I couldn't even read the rest. So I sulked for a week. But now I'm here. And I want to know why. I know you well enough to know this can't be a joke. You'd never throw away something so important for the sake of a prank, so tell me why. Why'd you do it?" His eyes were desperate and pleading and you knew you couldn't lie to him.

You cleared your throat, meeting his gaze even though every part of you wanted to look away. "I meant what I said. You deserve the position, more than me even. I'm strong, but I don't inspire people the way you do. I'm fast, but I don't rally people the way you do. And I care about people, but you love people. You were meant to do great things and I guess I just realized I wanted to watch you do them. I'll follow wherever you go, Soshiro."

It was his turn to flush now, realizing that this was the first time you'd ever called him by his first name, and with such sincerity no less. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to compose the right words to say. He finally settled on mumbling, "You always were a pain in the ass, you know that?"

You laughed at that, a real genuine laugh and it made him smile. "I could say the same for you. But you know... I can't seem to live without you being a thorn in my side anymore. Is that so strange?"

He shook his head quickly. "I feel the same. It's like I need you near me or I can't go on with my life."

You both go silent as the weight of this realization hits you hard.

"Follow me. Be by my side. Wherever I go, I want you there with me," He said finally, quoting your earlier words. He held a hand out to you and you took it, squeezing it tight and then pressing a kiss to it.

He's shocked but then he says with a smirk, "I think you missed." He points to his lips.

"Yeah, no, you're going to have to buy me dinner first." You tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He grins widely and you take in the sweet sight.

"I can do that. I'll buy you a million dinners if that's what it takes."

[radisprettysick]

hi may u pls do virgin!choso x big titty reader

choso just staring deeply into her tits since her bra isnt even her size so it just spills out, reader notices him and teases him for it!!!

this all i got ☹️😢😢 hope u see this

I see u pookie 🥹🥹

18+

Choso never knew how to ask for help. He can take lead in every other aspect for someone else but when it comes to helping himself.... he's way more reserved and shy about it.

He was so scared of being vulnerable to you but once he was, oh my god he was in love. He loved being vulnerable around you, you made him feel sososo good. Emotionally. Sexually is a completely different story.

He still hasn't been able to open up to you about sex. He loves your body and finds himself jerking off to thoughts of you often but he always gets too nervous to actually initiate anything with you.

For some reason one week he was just really pent up, he couldn't find the time alone to relieve himself like he usually would. And his habit of staring wasn't helping either. He just could not pull his eyes away from your body. You were in the middle of getting changed and he wanted nothing more than to freeze time so he could stare forever.

It was so obvious. His cheeks were red, his pants were tight, and he was practically drooling.

"Aw shit, I'm gonna have to get a new bra soon these ones don't really fit anymore."

No duh. Yours boobs were practically begging to be sucked on and played with by him.

You looked at him through his continued silence and watched him stare at your chest like a teenage boy seeing a real pair of tits for the first time.

"Choso. Chosooo. If you wanna feel them just ask." This immediately snapped him out of it causing you to suppress a giggle at his clearly stunned reaction.

"Sorry y/n." He averts his eyes to anywhere but you finding an interest in literally anything. His blush continued to grow on his cheeks. He could feel his palms sweating the longer you stayed silent but it did nothing to combat the raging boner he felt. He only looked back at you when he felt your presence next to him, reaching for his hand.

You grabbed his clammy hand and used him to massage your chest. He had to suppress a whine from coming out. They were just so big in his hand. He took over the massaging and looked at your face for approval, after receiving a nod, he pulled you closer so he could remove the bra from obstructing his full view of your perfect tits and took a nipple into his mouth.

He's been wanting this for so long. To finally touch you more than just innocent loving touches. He will ignore the teasing you did earlier of making fun of his staring habit because it got him what he wanted.

And yes he came bra shopping with you. He needed to make sure his baby got the best one <3 and one that he could easily move to suck on your tits <<<<33333

[aemondvelaryon]

love grows (where the mustache goes) — jake seresin x reader

summary: as the squad is giving jake as much shit as possible for the new offensive hair growing on his lip, you are frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

pairing: jake seresin x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language, realization of feelings, alcohol consumption to combat dirty thoughts.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: based on this lovely gifset by unicornships

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you always kind of had a thing about Hangman.

Look, you didn't hate him, per se, but he definitely stirred some feelings in you that were less than normal. He made you feel totally feral, if you will, unrestrained and vicious. The sort of anger that made you want to scratch your skin off, vibrating and seething, screaming at the top of your lungs.

It took barely a look, less than a glance, not even a word before you were fuming just by being in his presence. He had some sort of grip on you.

So, you tended to stay as far away from him as possible. Leaving when he arrived, staying home when his attendance was announced, and sticking close to people that either didn't like him or didn't know him. It was easier that way.

Easier than thinking about why he really made you so angry.

But the worst part was, the cherry on top, was that he just loved being around you. Loved seeing how worked up he could get you, making you squirm under his gaze, and making you turn bright red from his flirting.

He had to know. There was no way he didn't. The squad must have told him how much you didn't want to be near him which is why he made it his mission always to find you in every room.

He had to know how much he rattled you.

On this particular night, he had yet to make an appearance. But wherever Rooster was Hangman usually followed, and the tall, mustached, Hawaiian-shirted pilot had already made his way over to the piano tonight and the rest of Dagger had slowly trickled in.

You didn't know why you came out tonight especially since their shore leave had just ended and all of the pilots had started making their way back to base and the surrounding area which always included the Hard Deck.

But it was the only fun place around and Penny was so nice to you and going out in a dress on a Friday night and nursing a drink for a couple of hours just to be seen and known instead of rotting in your little apartment after work was worth the possibility you might see him.

Your eyes lock on the little crowd surrounding Rooster, as charismatic as ever, singing another 80s hit. You smile despite yourself.

God, how you wished Bradshaw was the one that made your brain go fuzzy. He was sure of himself, not arrogant, teasing, not antagonistic, handsome, not drop-dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you looked at Hangman and wondered why God would make him so fucking hot and then let him open his mouth.

It honestly wasn't fair.

Eventually, you hear his voice, and your back goes ramrod straight, awareness prickling at the back of your neck, and your hands instantly sweaty.

"Bradshaw, you started without me? I'm heartbroken. After I went through all this trouble to do this just for you? Absolutely devasted."

You don't look. Because if you look it will just cement how much you want to look, and don't want to stop looking.

A choked laugh sputters, as if they're surprised and then Phoenix's voice pierces through the crowd. "You didn't. Please tell me that's not real."

"No way! Someone go pull on it! Probably glued on." Fanboy shouts and you hear the sound of someone falling out of their chair.

"You got to be kidding me. What the fuck is that! Did something die on your face?" Javy yells in disbelief and disgust.

You want to look so bad. Just their reactions almost make you turn. Did he get a bad haircut or something? You're just close enough that you can hear every word but not enough that anyone's noticed you.

"Pay up, now, I called it! I can't believe you guys doubted me. I said he would do something like this." Reuben sounds like he's smiling triumphantly.

Bob's voice is quietly astounded, "He looks like 70s Porn Star Ken."

You sit up even straighter. Oh god.

He grew a mustache.

Rooster finally acknowledges him. "Man, Hangman, I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is another level."

You can't ever look over there now. Just the visual has your skin feeling too tight.

"You like it? Took me a whole month to grow this bad boy just 'cause I wanted to see the looks on all your faces, but I gotta say, now that I'm here, totally worth it." He's grinning, he has to be, shit-eating and ear-to-ear, you can feel it, can practically see his smile in your head. You've stared at it long enough.

"That's great. When are you shaving it?" Natasha sounds disgusted and it almost makes you laugh if you weren't so fucking frozen like a deer in headlights.

"I can't believe none of you are appreciating the effort I went through to do this. Unbelievable."

"You look like someone from the cast of Boogie Nights."

"Well that's a great movie, so thank you." He sounds closer now and the hand around your glass threatens to break it. "Y'know if I can't get you guys to recognize my dedication, I know someone who will."

Oh god, oh no.

"Hangman, don't--" But before another voice can dissuade him, he's already sidling up to you at the bar. You feel the heat of him before you hear his voice.

"Hi, sweetheart, did you miss me? I know I missed you." You grab your drink and finish it off quickly, eyes not looking over at him.

"What do you want, Hangman?" You hope to come off as annoyed, not rattled to the fucking core.

"Well, I know you love Rooster so much so I thought I'd do something to make me look a little bit more like him. Maybe get you to not run out of the room every time you see me, yeah?"

Goddammit, he can't know that you do that. Unless he pays attention to you as much as you do him.

"I don't love Rooster, okay, I just don't like you." You grit your teeth and call the other bartender on duty for another drink.

"Will you at least look at it, before making your judgment, babe? You're hurting my feelings." The faux hurt in his voice almost makes you turn.

"Don't call me that."

"What should I call you then, huh?"

Your drink gets refilled and emptied just as quickly. "Woah, slow down there. Don't need you passing out on me." You have to get the hell out of here, quickly.

Your name, for starters, maybe. "Nothing. I don't even want you to talk to me."

You turn and make your way off the bar stool and it rushes over you all too fast. An empty stomach and tequila do not a wise girl make.

You nearly fall off the seat and onto your ass but a warm hand finds its way around your waist and catches you just as quick. "Easy there." You shiver and turn in his grasp trying to get away but it just makes you meet his eyes.

Shit, shit, shit.

"You good?"

No, you are very much not good. He looks--fuck.

You don't see Hangman out of uniform often. You weren't a pilot or even in the military. Just a casual acquaintance that sometimes had a few chats with his squadron. So, you'd seen him in what he usually hangs out in, his tan jumpsuit, his swimsuit, you've even seen him in his dress whites before. But this Hangman just got back and hasn't even been to the base yet so this is Jake Seresin, Texas born and bred, raised on a farm, rides horses in his spare time, mama sweeter than apple pie, probably owns a fucking cowboy hat.

So, of course, he's got a plaid shirt on. Over that is a bomber jacket, like one you've seen Mav sporting before, only it looks like something you'd wear to go ranching in the winter not fly a plane. He's got jeans on, they’re all beaten up and used, and a leather belt, and he looks like he stepped out of some country romance Hallmark movie.

The mustache is the icing on the cake.

It's not that you had a thing for mustaches. You didn't because you had no feelings for Rooster whatsoever, but you didn't think they were unattractive or creepy like most of the population seemed to.

Did you have a big crush on Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I. when you were younger? Yes. But who didn't? And liking Bella's dad in Twilight didn't make it a pattern, okay! Everyone liked him.

"Uh." You finally gracefully spit out.

He smiles teasingly. "Didn't hit your head, did you?" He knows you didn't. He's playing with you. Riling you up as he always does. Because it's funny to him. Not because he likes you--wants you.

You sober up slightly and push at him. "No, get off."

Jake--God, no, when did he become Jake in your head--just smiles more but it seems softer. "I knew you'd fallen for me, but I didn't think you'd also do it literally."

You turn even redder if possible. "Shut up."

Christ, how was it you had reverted to playground comebacks at just the sight of him? Were you really so weak?

"You didn't answer my question." Was he still talking? You felt fuzzy.

"I need another drink." You can still feel his hand on your waist because despite pushing him away he hadn't let you go.

"Did I finally break you?" He laughs and shit, he knows.

"Why are you still talking to me?" You finally snap at him and his face falls a little, just slightly, that if you didn't have every inch of his face memorized you wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"Because I care what you think." It's a confession. It has to be. You don't know what else it could be.

"Why?" You squint at him. Dumbfounded is the only word that comes to mind.

"Why? What--you don't, you seriously don't know?" He still holding onto you, and his hand flexes, fingers slightly digging into your hip and you feel yourself inch towards him, always stuck in his orbit, gravity pulling you closer.

"Don't know what?" You lick your lips in anticipation and he glances, once, up, twice, down, and then looks away and swallows.

"Why the hell do you think I talk to you all the time? Come find you in a room? Grew this fucking thing on my face?" He laughs, bewildered, and shakes his head.

"Why?" You ask again, if he doesn't say it, you won't. Too goddamn scared that you're making it all up, reading too much into it. "I thought you just liked to tease me. Get a rise out of me. I thought you were making fun of me."

"C'mon, you know me, I do the same shit I do to you that I do to Rooster. That's just what I do when I like someone."

You punch him in the arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!" He whines and grabs his arm, taken aback and pretending as if it actually hurt him.

"Why didn't you just tell me that, you ass!" You screech a little, desperately, feeling way too many emotions at once. He tends to do that to you.

He scoffs. "Have you met me? Do you really think I'm emotionally mature enough to do that?"

"That whole time you were just, what, flirting with me?" You question incredulously.

He laughs, a little bashfully. "I mean, come on, I thought it was obvious. I mean it was to everyone else."

You pale a little. "The others know?"

"Yeah, 'course they do. They're the ones that pointed it out in the first place. I didn't even realize I was doing it at first either." He scratches his neck, almost nervously.

"So why the mustache?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to get you to pay attention to me. Thought this might help." And god help you, Jake blushes, actually reddens a bit.

"How'd you know?"

"Hm, know what?" He smirks at you.

You cough. "You know, that I'd--that I'd like it."

Jake grins. "I didn't but you just told me you did."

You hit him again, a slap on the shoulder, almost playful, and you can't believe it, you're flirting with him, you're really this close to him, doing this. "Fuck off."

He smiles again but this one is different. His eyes are incredibly soft and he's looking at you and--did he always look at you like this? Were you really this blind?

"I need you to answer another question for me." His hand on your hips snakes around you and you stumble into him, putting your hands on his chest to brace yourself, and, Christ, he smells good. “Do you think I could take you out sometime?”

"Um." You're throat suddenly feels incredibly dry and you're heart feels like it about to beat right out of your chest. "I mean, if you want to."

"Yeah, baby. I want to."

[realmofimagines]

Don’t Make A Habit of Dying (Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader)

follow @cowboybxtch (my other account) for more ghost content, as i will not be posting on this blog anymore <3

Wordcount: 3241 Content: swearing, near death, graphic depictions of gore, blood, injury, ghost is in love with u, soap is oblivious, heroic ghost, pre existing relationsip, tension  Request: no Note: *just wanna preface this by saying it is not proof read lol* i am absolutely unashamed to be jumping on the ghost bandwagon. i finished the campaign yesterday and honestly i sort of rushed through it bc it was a lot of fun so this is sort of based on one of the missions but it’s all from memory so if anything is wrong or out of place just ignore it and lets call it canon divergence AO3 version here

“Fox, how copy?”

You grunted, clawing at the rain-soaked concrete and grit beneath your fingers as you stretched to reach your communications device. Your head was still spinning from the impact, and your eyes blurred as if you were lying underneath a moving river staring at the wrinkled water surface above. A high-pitched whine resonates in your ears, and you are intensely aware of the urge to vomit.

With a sharp breath, you are able to level yourself onto your knees. Your hand closed around the slippery radio, and you pulled it toward your mouth whilst collapsing your back against a slick brick wall. Your free hand pressed against the sharp, pulsating pain in your abdomen.

“(Y/N), I repeat, how copy?” Ghost’s voice crackled.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, before pressing the voice activation button on the radio. The strong rush of adrenaline burned in your chest, but it didn’t match the wash of relief upon hearing and recognising Simon’s voice. You closed your eyes and relished in the sensation for a moment.

“I read you.”

He audibly sighed. “Thought I lost you there.”

“Nearly did.”

“You injured?”

You stared down and shakily inspected the palm pressed against your wound. Your fingers came away glistening with rain and blood, and your undershirt was soaked a deep red around the site of the injury. You replace your hand on the wound, applying as much pressure as you can muster with a heavily clenched jaw. As much as you wanted to be honest, you knew that due to the personal obligations Ghost felt toward you because of your secret relationship, letting him know just how hurt you truly were could compromise his position. He would, without a doubt, make his way straight toward you.

“I’m alive.”

“That’s not what I asked, Sergeant.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Good. Are you in sight of the church?”

You blinked hard to clear your vision and glanced around your surroundings. Through a rusted, paint-chipped iron gate, you could see the distant glow of the religious building and gathered that it was about half a mile away. You weren’t sure how much steam you had left in the tank, but you sure as shit were going to use every last drop to get your ass to that church.

“Yeah, I see it.”

“We’ll RV there. Johnny’s on his way now.”

“Copy that.”

“Do you have a weapon?”

You fumbled with your gear, cursing to yourself when you found nothing but empty holsters. All that remained on your person was a singular, small combat knife hidden within your boot, and you silently thanked yourself for taking such precaution.

“A knife.”

“That’s all you need. Stay safe, Fox.”

“Sure, Ghost.”

You released the radio trigger and clipped it back onto the front of your tactical vest. With a deep breath, you managed to pull yourself to your feet with the solid support of the brick wall. Your bloodied hand mixed with the rain, dripping down your chilled fingers and spreading the blood down your arms. You looked like a damn mess. You felt like a damn mess.

You first attempted to push through the iron gate but found it chained and padlocked from the other side.

Never the easy way, you murmured to yourself.

Turning back on yourself, you stumbled through a fruit market. Bruised and trampled limes and apples rolled across the puddled floor, seemingly abandoned in a hurry rather than packed away in their crates. Upon leaning on a stall for aid, you noticed that the civilians, presumably the shopkeepers, had been shot dead in their stalls. It was bloody and gruesome and told the tale of just how relentless the military-for-hire group were.

Your wobbly vision was clouded, and your lashes were thick with rain droplets concentrated with the blood dripping from your head. Your lips and fingers were icy cold, and each breath felt like the air was taking shots at your lungs like they were punching bags. You pressed onwards, however, knowing that if you wanted a chance at living that you needed to make it out of the Shadow’s web, and you could only do so by pushing yourself forwards.

The detour through the fruit market leads you to a couple of Shadow mercs, who chatted idly amongst themselves as if they weren’t standing upon the consequences of their war crimes. Families, including children, cried and screamed in the distance. Gunshots followed, and you tried not to flinch against the sound.

The mercenaries were armed, and they were blocking the only route you had. There was no easy way around this, but you had to improvise given your lack of weaponry and physical power. Your body was betraying you, and try as you might, you’d never be able to take these men in your current situation.

You tossed a beer bottle down the alleyway, hoping to distract them enough to get the upper hand. The left merc stubbed out his cigarette with a sizzle under his boot, before trailing down in the direction of the smashed glass in pursuit of the sound. Noticing your chance, you steadily crouch-walked your way over to the lone hostile and plunged your knife into his side and then into his neck.

“Just an empty bottle. It’s nothing,” the other merc stated, then turning on his heel with a final glance at the broken glass before he whipped his head around with a double take to notice his friend in a gargling heap on the floor, and you standing above him. “What the fuck?!”

He raised his gun toward you, leaving you no choice but to slam straight into him to throw off his aim. His gun flew upwards as he pulled the trigger, spraying an arc of loud, bright bullets into the air whilst you attempted to disarm him. He retaliated with a hard shove, though not before you were able to get your hands on the pistol in his hip holster. You flew to the ground with a thud and splash, but before he had the chance to regain composure and take aim at you again, you’d blasted two rounds into his chest, and then his throat. He collapsed on top of you in a heavy heap.

Another soldier rounded the corner, but you didn’t quite have the energy to recognise the threat before it was a second too late.

You were just lucky that Soap barged through the cafe door on your left and took him down with a clean shot straight through the temple. He turned his gaze from the man on the floor after confirming his death and reached over to you on the ground. He heaved the dead mercenary off of your chest and offered you a strong hand. You grabbed onto him and groaned as he yanked you upright, a firm hand on your shoulder to steady you as you fell towards him. With a concerned eye, he straightened you with a gentle nudge.

“Christ, Fox,” Soap murmured, eyeing the wound on your side. You immediately clutched at it defensively. “You’re not lookin’ so hot.”

You wheezed a breath and mustered a smile. “I’m running on fumes, but I’ll be fine. Let’s just get to that church.”

“Aye, Sergeant. I’ll take front.”

“Be my guest.”

You trailed sloppily behind Soap, cursing yourself for your inability to be as sharp as you usually were. You hated being a burden, but you hated letting the team down more. Your carelessness in the fight that broke out with Graves had cost you a life-threatening injury in a team that refused to leave anybody behind, even if it got them killed. You only worried that if you weren’t going to make it, you wouldn’t be able to see Simon before you went and that you wouldn’t be able to tell him you were sorry.

Your heart ached at the thought.

You and Ghost had been dating, briefly. It happened slowly. First, there were inside jokes, and then there were gentle teasing pet names, and then more than friendly touches… until one night the tension seemed to break, and you slept together, which was just a week ago now before everything went to shit. You almost regretted doing so, for fear that now you’d never get to see him again, to touch him again.

You stumbled to your knees and caught yourself barely by planting your hand solidly on the gravelled floor. Soap spun around and cursed under his breath before reaching for his radio.

“Ghost, we have a situation here.”

He leaned forward and grabbed at your biceps, throwing your arm over his soldier for support.

“What situation?”

“Fox was WIA,” he grunted with a low voice, pulling your body towards cover as a squadron of Shadows passed by in pursuit of the gunshots from only a few moments prior. Any second now, they would find the bodies and be alerted of your presence.

“Don’t piss around the bush, Johnny. How bad?”

Soap studied you with an uneasy glance.  “We’re gonna need backup if we’re gonna get the lass outta here.”

“What’s your location?”

“Uh—” Soap paused and checked for any noticeable landmarks. “We’re at the coffee shop just a ways from the fruit market—”

“Hang tight. I’m on my way.”

“What about the RV?”

“Stay put, Serg.”

“Yes, sir.”

The distance from the church to the market was about ten minutes, but Ghost cleared the distance in about four. His eyes were cold and steely behind his mask but became soft and expressive upon noticing your strained face and bloodied abdomen. He was gentle when he leaned for you.

“Jesus Christ, Fox,” he murmured, his tone an edge softer than usual. He leaned toward you to help stabilise you on your feet and apologised under his breath when you yelped in pain. “Who did this to you?”

You grunted and leaned against one of his large arms for support. You blinked the rainwater away from your eyes and maintained eye contact with him. Even now, at a time like this, you felt your stomach flip. You were so in love with him and that somehow made everything scarier.

“One of Graves’ boys. Not sure who. Didn’t get a good look before I killed him.” You answered.

“Atta girl,” Ghost praised. Your heart clenched.

Soap stared on with a worried look, his back tense with stress.

“Hold up,” Soap said, raising a fist before lifting his gun to level his eyes with the sights. mercenaries stormed past the windows, and there was a sudden series of heavy bangs on the cafe door that Soap had barricaded with bar stools. “We’ve got company, Ghost.”

Ghost nodded, and then turned to you with an urgent look in his eyes. “Can you walk?”

You cringed at the stabs of pain and clenched your jaw. “Simon, I’m a liability. Leave me here and I can hold them off—”

“I am not leaving you here!”

You blinked in shock at the intensity of his tone. His eyes beyond the mask seemed desperate, and he clutched your face in a gloved hand as if uttering his silent pleas through his palm. You truly believed him and his words, for there was no reason for a man like himself to lie to you at a time like this.

“I said, can you walk?”

You nodded stiffly.

“Then let’s fucking walk,” Ghost answered, tossing your arm over his shoulder to carry the most of your body weight as he essentially dragged you toward the exit point of the cafe. His other hand gripped his pistol so hard that his knuckles began to numb beneath his glove. “Cover us, Johnny!”

Soap tailed your backs with a raised gun, and Ghost was just able to tug you out of the door before the hostiles blasted through and started swarming the place with bullets. Ghost seemed to lug you along with desperation, as you were practically limping at this point.

“You stupid girl, getting me all worried like this,” he cursed, turning briefly to shoot one of the incoming adversaries before continuing onwards. “Do you know how lucky you are that I’m here?”

He was acting characteristically sharp and dry, but you knew that it was just to glaze over his worry. Ghost didn’t often lose his cool, but you were certainly shaking his faith. You couldn’t judge him for his words and simply offered a weak smile in response.

You heaved a laugh. “Let’s just say I owe you one.”

He seemed to soften. “Let me take you to dinner when this is all over. Call it even.”

“It’s a date,” you wheezed, your words accompanied by laboured breaths. The pain was intense and radiated in waves of white-hot pulses and aches that made you limp and shudder in the agony. Your feet and hands were starting to feel numb, and your head felt like it was full of TV static. You just needed a short break, and then you would be able to continue.

You began tripping over your feet, and albeit he tried to keep you upright, Ghost’s strength wasn’t enough to counter the sudden push of gravity as you slumped to the floor.

“(Y/N)!”

Your face was white, and your eyes rolled back. He was immediately at your side, grabbing your face in his hand to inspect your breathing, and then the pulse on your neck with fingers that he’d torn a glove from. He was momentarily relieved when he felt the feedback of your heart, regardless of how faint it was. It was enough to keep going, to revive the easily extinguishable flicker of hope.

Soap rounded the corner, seeming urgent as he fired shots down the alleyway.

“Ghost, they’re gaining on us!”

“Shit!” He cursed.

Without a second thought, he unsheathed his pistol and handed it over to Soap who took it without question. Simon scooped his arms under your legs and back and held you securely to his chest before nodding at his comrade.

“You keep us safe. That’s an order, Serg.”

“Sure, LT, but we need to get a move on— now.”

“Let’s go!”

You jostled in and out of consciousness. It was soft and gentle, like a slow beat of butterfly wings. You would open your eyes momentarily, but there wasn’t enough adrenaline supply in the world to keep you awake, and things would quickly return to darkness. Your grasp on reality started to slip when the blood loss became critical, and the only thing you were aware of was the bruising grip Ghost had on your flesh and the overwhelming fear that you were about to die.

You vaguely notice the sensation of cold marble on your body, and then the tightness of gauze and tape being wrapped around you.

Ghost was manic as he watched your pale, lifeless body show little to no reaction to his movements. He’d torn your battle vest off and inspected the damage beneath your vest. He’d swallowed his anxiety and wrapped you up as best he could with what little supplies himself and Soap had scrounged from the village and proceeded to perform CPR on you when he noticed your breathing had come to an abrupt stop.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

You couldn’t move.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Crack.

A blooming pain in your ribs.

A warm press of lips on your own, and the uncomfortable sensation of being filled with air.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The thrum of helicopter blades. Distant shouting. Ghost’s voice.

Ghost’s voice.

“Simon…?”

——

When you next woke, it was a slow and unpleasant sensation. White, fluorescent lights pierced through your eyelids, which felt heavy to open. The sharp sensation of the gunshot in your side felt dull, and you could tell by the swimming sensation in your head that you were drugged. You vaguely recognised the sound of a beeping monitor, and you flinched. The smell of bleach filled your nose.

“Good mornin’, sunshine.”

Your eyes fluttered open, wincing against the harsh ceiling lights. You turned your gaze to the figure hunched over in a small brown chair— a heavily-built man, adorning a balaclava with a skull painted on it. Ghost.

“Simon.”

“(Y/N).”

You attempted to lift yourself into an upright position, and immediately felt a flare of agony that had you coughing out a broken sob.

“Hey, hey, take it easy there, Fox,” Ghost murmured, immediately reaching forwards to settle you back down. You grit your teeth together and blinked away the sudden onslaught of tears that were born from the shock of the pain. He tried to sit back down, but you caught his gloved hand before he could leave and he didn’t have the heart to pull away. His stature immediately softened, and his thumb smoothed over your fingers and knuckles in an attempt to comfort you.

“They outta put more drugs in you. They sure did a number on you. Surprised you’re still with us.”

“I thought I was going to die.”

Simon huffed through his nose and tugged the chair closer so that he could sit beside you and hold your cold hands in his. “I thought you were, too, sweetheart.”

“How the Hell did you get me out of there?”

You couldn’t see it, but by the wrinkle of his eyes, you knew he was smirking. “This old dog still got his ways.”

A concern suddenly popped into your head as bits and pieces of memories began to slot together. “And Soap?”

“He’s fine, unfortunately.”

You smiled gently, feeling yourself relax a little. You turned to him and held his gaze, suddenly feeling intimidated by his sharp eyes. The heart monitor next to your bed began to beep at an increased pace, and your cheeks flushed.

Ghost seemed bemused. “Am I makin’ you nervous, darlin’?”

You buried your face in your hands and only dared to peek through your fingers when you heard him start to laugh.

“Don’t hide from me just yet. You still owe me a date.”

You threw your hands down to your sides and smiled. “Look who’s gone all soft. I wonder what the boys would think of you right now.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret saving you.”

“Don’t kid yourself, LT, you loved playing hero,” you retorted, a glimmer of mischief sparkling through your grin. You suddenly felt the atmosphere become slightly tense and heavy with the weight and reality of the situation. You could’ve and likely should’ve died back there. You weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to remember just what Ghost and Soap went through to get you out, but you could only imagine.

“Thank you, Simon.” You said, more serious this time.

He glanced away as if embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

You reached closer and grabbed his masked face. In private, he would remove his balaclava just for you. You felt the selfish desire that he would do so just now so that you could kiss him but swallowed your urges for you knew he couldn’t compromise himself in the med-bay. Too many prying eyes.

He grabbed your hand from his face and kissed it, the warmth and pressure of his lips still present even through the fabric on his face. You were butter in his touch, practically melting through his fingers.

“Just don’t make a habit of nearly dying, you hear me? Nearly gave me a bastard heart attack.”

You smiled, staring at him dazedly. “Yes, sir.”

[igotanidea]

Bonding: Damian Wayne x sister!reader

Request: from the prompt list : 4: "Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much

Warning: nothing, it;s just fun and fluff, most likely set in the WFA universe.

***

„What happened to you two?” Dick could barely hold back the terror in his voice upon watching his younger siblings. Jason however was not so considerate and  straight forward started laughing at Y/N and Damian, the former with the nose swollen and red like a Rudolf and the latter with childish patches all over his forearms.

“Have you two escaped the circus? Sure as hell with such look you would fit there!” he let out a laugh so loud it captured the attention of no one else than Bruce, who became alerted in an instant. It wasn’t usual for Jason to be this happy and chuckling and it was …. suspicious. 

Similar to Dick’s, his face dropped upon seeing his kids in such damaged state and just sighed deeply.

“What did you do?” he rubbed his forehead, looking up to the sky probably wondering what mistake did he make (well, the question should have been – what mistake didn’t he make?). Never before had he looked so fatherly, like when Y/N and Damian started their mischief.

Y/N was the middle child, younger than Dick and Jason, but older than Tim and Damian, but Bruce could swear that sometimes she acted like a literal five year old. Especially when any of her brothers started messing up with her things. Especially when Damian did. No one could ever tell what atrocities she could resort to when he grabbed something that wasn’t his.

“It was all his fault!” Y/N cried out, her voice muffled by the swollen nose and she sounded more like a wounded animal rather than a human being.

“I am beyond your level, Y/N and cannot be blamed for…..”

“SIT!” Bruce growled in desperation, but neither of his kids listened. If anything they started bantering even more.

“Not many parental successes on your account, right Bruce?” Jason mocked, but the oldest Wayne didn’t bother answering. Instead he grabbed Damian by the collar and yanked him back and in the air so his feet started dangling above the ground. Luckily Y/N was too tall to do that to her as well.

“This is derogatory” Damian crossed his arms and pouted, the funniest look of her brother making Y/N laugh loudly “put me down, father so I can kick her ass again and….”

“Again?” Bruce eyes focused on his youngest son “what do you mean, again?”

“Nothing!” Y/N chimed in, desperate to keep some kind of secret

“Oh, are you ashamed to admit you got beaten by me in the combat, dear sister?”

“Shut up you little rascal!” Y/N threw herself at him, but this time it was Dick who grabbed her and hold her back

“What did he do?” Grayson asked, knowing well enough how much of a menace Damian could be

“NOTHING!” the boy struggled against his father’s grip

“Who’s afraid to admit what now?!” Y/N smirked at him.

“Ok, that’s it” clearly it was Jason who lost patience first “talk or I’ll draw blood.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” His sister threw him a daring gaze

“Wanna try me, sis? You already got a swollen nose and I can bet that this guy you like…..”

“SHUT UP JASON!”

“wait, there’s a guy?” Bruce was confused “who is he? Why didn’t I met him? How much does he know about us?”

“Not the time, Bruce!”

“LET ME GO DICK!!”

“Sorry, sunshine can’t really do that. Unless you tell us what happened.”

“fine!” she hissed “fine! I’ll tell you!”

An hour ago

“DAMIAN WAYNE!”  her voice echoed through the whole Wayne Manor and made the glassed windows shake. Honestly, how could no one in the family of vigilante hear that was beyond her. “you little piece of shit, where the hell are you!?”

“Have you called me sister?” Damian emerged from his room, looking nothing but innocent with the play-pretend smile. But Y/N knew better. She was fairly aware that he was skillful in using that Wayne gene trying to charm people. Too bad his eyes were glistening with mischief.

“You can’t play me, you demon.”

“Did something happened?” he titled his head in curiosity, observing his sister getting more and more angry. Oh, how entertaining it was to see her face get red, her fist clench. Fascinating how girl’s hormones worked.

But clearly, he underestimated Y/N. Yes, she was an emotional young woman surrounded by no less than four brothers, but she was also an adopted Wayne. And the realization of that fact made her calm down. Damian wanted her to get mad. Which meant he had some sort of plan.

“My little, sweet, wonderful, lovely brother.” She quickly changed the method of acting

“Huh?” Damian frowned, still not used to people acting nice towards him. This was…. unexpected. Y/N was clearly cunning and he had to be prepared.

“Tell me, did you happen to see my phone somewhere around?”

“No.” the answer was clearly too fast to be convincing.

“Really?” she smiled and looked over his shoulder inside his room. The perks of being taller and seeing more. “Then what is lying there on your desk?”

“That’s mine.”

“Damian…..” her voice became serious, her posture tensing “give it back to me. Now.”

“No.” he crossed arms, mimicking her position. Oh, they were both preparing for a fight, neither even beginning to consider the option of relenting. “does father know about your little crush?”

“YOU WERE READING MY TEXTS?!!?”

“Do you even realize in how much danger you put us because of your silly little….”

“AH!!” he did not get to finish the sentence when she went at him taking him by surprise. However, not enough of a surprise that he didn’t manage to step back. Instead of pining him to the ground she tripped and dashed into his room, immediately reaching towards the bed to grab her mobile, but Damian grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

“You little rascal!” she yelled, when they started a real Batman-style fight. “It’s mine!”

“it’s a violation of the rules!” he spat back “we’re not supposed to be in a relationship with civilians!”

“what would you know about relationships?!” Y/N blocked his punch, turning around and tripping him up. “you were raised by freaking assassins!”

“How bad we don’t get to choose family, right?” he hissed, falling on his back on the ground but immediately getting up and attacking her again.

Y/N was good, skilled and intuitive, but Damian was smaller and maybe a bit faster and that’s why she did not see it coming when he glanced off the mattress and landed on her back, trying to tackle her to the ground

“GET OFF ME!” she yelled trying to untangle his arms from her neck

“Not a chance!”

They were struggling so hard that at one point this fight moved towards the corridor and with just one wrong step they started falling down the stairs, still doing their best to damage one another. Damian was pulling at Y/N hair, while she covered his eyes in an attempt to blind him. It took a few minutes of weltering, grunting and dapping before they ended up at the base of the stairs.

“Auch…..” they both moaned in unison, their bones and bones already bruised and damaged. It really did hurt.

“HAHA! I won!” Damian yelled as he realized that the position in which they landed allowed him to sit on top of her sister, his weight holding her down.

“Get off me you idiot…..” she whined trying to push him away, but not succeeding at all.

“Didn't know you liked being pinned to the ground this much, Y/N” Damian laughed at her poor, week attempt to get rid of him.

“AH!” she cried out again and started waving her hands at him, Damian instantly started the same and now they were laying on the floor, with him still on top of her, acting like toddlers and emitting battle cries.

“MASTER DAMIAN! MISS Y/N!”

Shit.

Alfred.

The butler just sighed deeply, too used to many very strange views and behaviors around the manor. Too many to care and ask questions.

“Please get up from the floor. Miss Y/N, your nose is bleeding and as for you, Master Damian you got bloody scratches all over your arms.”

“Sorry Alfred.” They followed every word Alfred said to them and stood beside him with their heads hanging low.

“Let’s patch you two up.” Alfred motioned them towards the living room, gathering medical supplied on the way.

Now.

“And he gave you a animal shaped patch!” Jason laughed so hard he had to grab his belly, almost rolling of the couch

“Didn’t you hear a word, Jace? He took her phone! She had every right to be angry and act irrational…” Dick took his sister’s site

“Hm.” Bruce grunted

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but good job on being stealthy” Jason chucked towards Damian “normally it would be Tim to try and do such thing.”

“Are you taking his side now?” Y/N’s eyes went wide “I can’t believe….. ah!” sudden outburst made her nose bleed even more and she held the nearby cloth tighter to the bruised part of her face. “mhmmmhmhm” she mumbled grumpily

“Hm” Bruce grunted again

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Dick turned towards his father in a bit of shock. Normally Bruce would be the one to punish them  both for disobeying the rules of the Manor but now he was just sitting on the couch, his mind wondering elsewhere.

“no.”

“What?!” four pair of surprised eyes landed on him in pure disbelief of how he acted.

“Wouldn’t make any difference. Another day another fight. Just…. apologize to each other. I’m going to the batcave. Dick, Jason come with me.”

“The hell I’m going to ….” Jason started but the look in Bruce eyes made him relent. And that was how Y/N and Damian ended up alone in the living room, sitting next to each other, eyes on the floor.

“Does it hurt much?” he asked

“Not much more than yesterday. I’ll be fine. “ she shrugged like nothing happened  “Do you think they know?”

“About what? Our secret plan to make them all crazy and take over the manor?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“Not sure. Might need some more observation on the matter.”

“So….. we do it again tomorrow?” she smirked

“Oh, absolutely” he smiled back at her, eyes sparkling. It was always fun to fight with her.

“Then can I have my phone back?”

“Sure, I’ve seen all there was to see. “

“I hate you, Damian.” Y/N grinned looking at him

“I hate you too, sis.” He replied with a smirk

And just like that, they bumped their fists. All was good between them.

****

Meanwhile, Tim was hidden in the batcave, glued to the computer, not realizing anything of the events happening upstairs. He only raised his head once he heard Bruce, Dick and Jason entering.

“Did they do it again?” he asked seeing Bruce’s harrowed face, being enough of an answer “Ha! Life never gets boring with those two troublemakers around!”

[mirrology]

— Rowdy .ᐟ ☆

୨୧ rowdy: ( noun) a noisy and disorderly person. (adjective) noisy and disorderly.

Ft. boothill, gender neutral reader. platonic. Wc: 722

Content: short bit of hc's and a small fic at the end, readers age is not specified, boothill being a little shit, he cares abt u tho, typical sibling shenanigans, sibling bonding, cursing, boothill may be ooc.

A/n: first ever platonic boothill fic /j, also this is kinda lazy but whatever.

He would definitely be one of those annoying brothers that come into your room just to look at you, then leave without closing the door.

but he genuinely cares about you and your safety considering his job as a galaxy ranger.

Boothill also definitely calls you runt, squirt, & kid no matter how old you are or no matter how much you complain.

Frequently ruffles your hair as a sign of affection, although this ends in bickering when you do your hair before it.

Definitely can't cook for shit, every time he tries to make something for you out of the kindness of his heart, he absolutely wrecks it.

It ends up burnt and inedible, and a purple aura around in a cartoonish fashion. and oh, the poor kitchen, you can't count how many times you've had to fix something. it has gone through a lot.

The two of you have sleepovers where you do skincare, watch movies and gossip about anything and everything.

you would think that Boothill is more of a horror movie and/or action movies type guy but he has a soft spot for sappy romance movies and the saddest films possible.

and if you feel like it, both of you talk about your love life.

Trains you by sparring in hand-to-hand combat, he usually wins the sparring, but you've gotten close to beating him.

After your training session you flop on the floor like a dead fish and beg him to carry you back inside, he obliges but not before teasing you for falling to the ground.

he picks you up in a princess carry or in a piggy back ride.

Boothill gives you things at the most random times, "oh but it's not a holiday or anything special today!" you can say but he won't care. accept his gift.

If you just as much glance at something in a store for 1 millisecond you'll find said thing in a gift bag with a little note, handwritten by him.

Since he's part robot he can't drink water or even touch it or he will malfunction, even though he's made to sustain the harsh weather of the desert and attacks from the criminals he hunts down.

so if he's being stubborn and does go through with touching water, you're the one who (quite literally) brings him back to life.

and because of this you've become well-versed in technology. you constantly fix anything that is wrong, such as a jammed finger. Although can't seem to get rid of that swear filter that he's unfortunately stuck with.

Overall Boothill is a very fun elder brother who wants to keep you safe.

You woke up to the feeling of being moved from your spot on your desk. you had been working on one of your tech projects, spending hours on end tinkering away in your room. You cracked one eye open, sleep pulling at your eyes, wanting them to close one more. You were met with the familiar face of your brother above you. then you registered the feeling of his hand on your back and underneath your knees.

Boothill noticed your sleepy gaze on him, and he smiled cheekily, "Heya, runt. I see ya' woke up" he chuckled in amusement at your disheveled appearance. He laid you down on your bed and placed the covers over your body, you immediately sank into your mattress and the soft feeling of the blanket on top of you was making you sleepier.

"Jeez, how long have ya' been up?" His smile dropped a little as he noticed a faint outline of dark circles underneath your eyes. "dunno..." you slurred out and turned to your side, facing him. "Hey, big bro?" you quietly said, Boothill raised an eyebrow "yea?" he asked.

You softly grinned, "Love ya'" you said, then suddenly being interrupted by a yawn. there was silence as your eyes drooped and eventually closed as you fell into a deep slumber.

Boothill stared at your sleeping face, it wasn't exactly surprising that you had said that you loved him. It was just that you didn't say it often, it wasn't that you didn't want to. Boothill's schedule is almost always full, so spending time with him can be hard. A rare soft smile graced his features and he reached over to caress your head.

"I love ya' too, kid." He whispered.

[marvellous1917]

Icarus Falling Far From.

(Part 4)

Pairing: mob!bucky x tattoo artist!female!reader

Summary: Bucky comes face to face with the ones fucking his shit up, he’s all stressed and the reader just wants to make out.

Warnings: mentions of crime (guns,drugs,murder [he’s a mobster babes]), swearing, guns, reader being threatened with a gun (oops), threat of violence, talking about feelings (ew), think that’s it-if I’m missing any let me know.

Word count: 3.9k ish

A/n: hey guys, hope you enjoy this shit lmao, I truly have absolutely no idea where I’m going with this.

(This is not beta’d we die like men.)

Part 3 : Icarus Falling Far

Masterlist

————

Bucky’s thoughts in italics

Readers thoughts in bold

————

Fuck.

Fuucckk.

“It’s you.” Bucky states, his voice steady, hiding the confusion running through his head.

“It’s us,” Frank responds, “gotta be honest, we’ve had a lot of fun fucking up your shit.”

Frank stood with a smug smirk on his face, while the man with the buzz cut, and with scars covering his face, the light outside casting a grim portrait, stands with a big grin - both completely unaffected by the gun being pointed at them.

“Does she know?” Bucky asks, years of being screwed by people he trusted rearing back and kicking his trust issues into his gear.

Please say no, please tell me she’s not a part of this.

No. Not her.

“Y/n? Bet it break your cold heart if we said yes, huh?” Billy quips, with that stupid grin now a permanent fixture on his face. “That sweet pretty girl you though actually liked you, was actually just getting us this in, see we have proposition for- ”

“DOES SHE KNOW?” Bucky lets his voice rise, tired of the games the other men were playing.

“No, and we are gonna keep it that way you hear me, don’t drag that kind girl into this cruel world.” Curtis states, stepping forward as if to cut Billy off from responding.

Shit, I can’t let you look down and see me waving a gun in your friends faces.

“She doesn’t need to know. She’s not made for this world, not like us. So how about you put the gun away before she starts looking out that window.” Frank says, eyes flicking to your window to make sure you’re not witnessing this tense conversation.

Bucky slowly lowers the gun into his pocket, but keeps his hand tight on the weapon, just as a precaution.

Please be true, to whatever bastard higher power up there, please be true.

“Not like us?” Bucky says, parroting the other man’s words, “in what world are we the same?”

“Well I mean you and Curtis probably share the most similar physicality,” Billy states, chuckling a little at his own joke.

Bucky’s eyes flit to the quiet man on the left, recalling his earlier thoughts.

“What Bill means to say is that I know what’s it’s like to loose a limb in combat-”

“I didn’t loose my arm in combat.” His voice was deep and unwavering, even while the horrid memories came to the front of his mind, “you have no idea what I went through.”

“We know some. Rumors fly in the military.” Franks states, “we were all Marines together, and after Curtis lost his leg, I became a Navy Seal and Bill here became a Scout Sniper for the Marine Corps Reconnaissance. We’ve had our fair share of being screwed over by those in authority.”

“Am I supposed to give a shit? All that crap is behind me, what I care about is my business now, the same business that you three have been fucking up for the past week. So what the fuck do you want and what the fuck does Y/n have to do with it?” Bucky growls out, his patience slipping.

“We mean no harm, not to you, and especially not to Y/n-”

“I’m supposed to believe that, you used her to get to me right? If you cared about her you wouldn’t have done that-” Bucky begins before he gets cut off.

“Don’t you dare say that we don’t care about her!” Billy almost shouts stepping forward before stopping when Bucky brings the gun out of his pocket and lets it rest by his side.

“Y/n is one of the few things in this world we care about, she’s family okay, and we would never hurt her-” Curtis says

“Really, then how would you say she’s gonna feel if I go back to her apartment and tell her all about this, huh?” Bucky calls back

“You’re not gonna do that though, are ya? Because you know if you did, it’d break her heart, and you don’t wanna do that do ya Buck? Not when ya like her so much?” The words come from Billy, the annoying grin back in his face.

“What make you think I care that much?” Bucky says, even though his thoughts state the opposite.

I do. I do care.

“If you didn’t you would have shot us already.” Frank responds with a very valid point.

That makes Bucky clench his jaw and tense his gun wielding hand.

“All we want is a business meeting okay, talk about a potential partnership.” Frank stars crossing his arms, staring unklinking at Bucky.

“A partnership? It’s gonna take more than you fucking up a few things for me to even think about considering that. And what the hell would I get out of a partnership with you three?” Brucky responds, seriously considering just shooting the three men dead on the street.

“Well that’s something we can talk about later, but just so you know we have our hands in some business ourselves and more than enough bodies to keep our shit going, but we’d all be a hell of a lot richer if we worked together” Curtis states, shifting his weight onto his good leg.

“Plus just think about how happy our girl will be if we all got on.” Billy chimes in with a quick wink.

Our girl. OUR girl? God I wanna shoot these assholes.

Bucky keeps his calm facade up, unwilling to show the man that his words affected him.

“Fine. Be at the Comandos bar at 8 pm tomorrow, just you three, no weapons.” Bucky responds, wanting this conversation to be over.

The three men share quick look’s between themselves, and then Frank steps forward with his hand out towards Bucky and says “We’ll be there.”

Bucky doesn’t even look at them before turning quickly and walking back into the building, pulling out his phone to call Steve.

Frank chuckles, puts his hand down and turns to get in the car.

“Think he’ll tell her?” Curtis asks.

“Nah. He likes her too much.” Billy replies, while opening the door and getting in.

—————

What the hell is taking him so long? God I hope the boys didn’t catch him and give the whole ‘if you hurt her we’ll kill you’ talk. The boys are scary but Bucky’s a damn mobster.

The heavy knock on the door stops your pacing, and cause you to run to the door and pull it open to see the aforementioned mobster.

He doesn’t even say anything before barging in, kicking the door closed behind him while his hands go straight to the sides of your face, pulling your lips to his. His grip is gentle, but his mouth is bruising, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

You pull back to catch your breath, leaning your forehead on his and catching your breath.

“Not even a hello? You missed me that much?” You flirt quietly, whispering into his mouth, hand clutching his waist through his coat.

“More than you know darlin’ I needed to see you…and touch you,” Bucky responds, silently thinking I needed to make sure you were okay.

Oh please do.

“All I’m hearing is the big bad mobster saying he needs me” you tease, praying he didn’t take offence, yeah he’s sweet and lovely but I’ve only gotten a tiny glimpse at the other side of him.

“Is that how you see me?” He leans back to his full height, staring down into your eyes, dropping his hands to his sides.

Shit.

Bucky grips your wrists and takes your hands off his body, moving them into his metal hand, the surface cold on your skin. You scramble to respond, wanting to tell him you thought the opposite, but his flesh hand moves to his pocket before you can talk.

“Big bad mobster huh? Oh doll you have no idea,” he says with an indiscernible look on his face, pulling out his glock.

Oh fuck, I was only teasing.

“Wait Buck-“ you start before he cuts you off.

“Y/n…Are you scared of me?” He asks, his grip on your wrists loose enough that you could get out of his grip if you wanted to.

You didn’t move. Looking into his eyes, an overwhelming feeling of calm takes over, the blue of his eyes the same as the sky after a storm.

“…no. I’m not.” I probably should be but apparently I’m crazy.

“Do you think I’m bad?” He asks.

All the stories, all the rumours, the memory of your first meeting, and the call he took in the shop come flooding to the forefront of your mind. That he’s a man with no mercy, cares for nothing and no one - except money, sex, and violence.

“…not to me.” You answer.

He pulls his arm up, holding the glock in between your faces, showing it to you. The bottom of his tattoo- your tattoo- sticks out from under his sleeve.

A normal person without a broken brain would take this as a threat. Why am I attracted to this?

He makes eye contact with you over the barrel, turning his hand and resting the muzzle on your cheek, but there is no fear in you, you can see his trigger finger resting on the side of the barrel.

“Do you trust me Y/N?” Bucky asks, his eyes not moving from yours.

You take a second to think about it.

The man is a fucking mobster for Christs’ sake. He’s a criminal, a gun runner, a drug trafficker, and not to mention a killer. His kills have hit the news before, no evidence proving it was his organisation, but everyone knows. It doesn’t matter if it was Bucky that pulled the trigger, held the knife, planted the bomb, nothing happened that wasn’t on his order. Can I really trust a man like that?

Your hesitation to answer has an effect on Bucky. He moves the gun, dragging it down your neck and resting the muzzle in the dip of your collar bone. You look down at his hand, finger still nowhere near he trigger.

“Y/n.” He calls quietly. Your eyes jump back to his and he speaks again, “do you think I would ever hurt you?”

That question has an answer you don’t have to think about.

“Not unless I did something to deserve it.” Your attempt at humour was immediately seen to be the wrong answer.

He sticks the gun back in your face, muzzle pushing between you lips, scratching your teeth. The movement causes your eyes to go wide, fear slipping onto your face.

“Did you do something to deserve it? Have you fucked me over Y/n?” His voice is tense, deadly serious, an unstable look in his eyes, his metal hand tightening on your wrists.

You lean back a little to answer, “…no, no of course not Buck. What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours, his face perfectly still, not giving anything away.

She doesn’t know. She truly has no idea. Thank fuck.

He drops the gun and lets go of your wrists, taking a few steps back, giving you space.

“I’m sorry doll, I’ve just had very hard day, some new information was given to me and it’s fucked me up a bit. I’m sorry Y/n, truly I am, I didn’t mean to freak you out.” His hands run through his hair, pulling at it harshly. “Shit darlin’, what the hell was I doing?” He mumbles the last bit to himself.

“Buck..Bucky, hey calm down, it’s okay-” you start before he talks again.

“It’s not okay! I just put a fucking gun in your face.” He keeps rambling, seeming like a whole other person than he was a minute ago.

“Buck! Stop, stop jabbering,” you grab his wrists, taking his hands from his hair and pulling him towards you.

He stops talking, and stares at your hands in his, the metal of his prosthetic shining a stark contrast against your skin.

You take a second to look at him, eyes studying his face. He looks worried, and a little scared.

Huh, didn’t know a mobster could get scared. Is he’s scared of me and what I’m gonna say… or is he scared of himself?

“You don’t scare me Buck…you probably should, but you don’t. ‘Cos you’ve been nothing but good to me, even a minute ago when you were acting weird, I knew you weren’t gonna do anything-”

“How? How did you trust me to not hurt you, when I was waving my glock in your face?”

“You had your finger on the barrel”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking over what you said. He takes a deep breath, meeting your eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky responds.

“Then don’t say anything.” You say, the imagine of him with a gun in his hand fresh in your mind.

That whole episode should not have been as hot as it was. Shit I’m fucked up.

Bucky stares at you (he does that a-lot), unsure of his next move.

“Kiss me, dumbass.”

He moves before you can blink, his hands gently grabbing your face and pulling you to him. His kiss takes your breath away, gentle but firm. Your hands grip his elbows, encouraging him to keep going.

He takes the hint (thank fuck) and splits your lips with his tongue, his nose pressed hard against your cheek. He moves his hands down to your hips, gripping hard. Your hands grip the back of his head, fingers playing with his hair, tugging at it slightly when he completely deepens the kiss, your tongues tangling together. He lets out a quiet groan at the feeling, taking his left hand off your hip and tensing it by his side. You break the kiss when you feel the loss of his touch.

You take a second to catch your breath, Bucky leaning his head against yours.

“Why did you take your hand off me?” You ask.

“What?” He responds, the small dazed look on his face making you chuckle a little.

“Your hand, I liked it where it was.”

“Oh..that. It’s uh..it’s pretty strong, I can’t tell how hard I’m holding something, I can’t feel it so I tend to hold things a bit too hard… I broke like 5 cups in the past week-” he answers, stuttering his way through the sentence.

“Stop talking Buck, and you say I ramble,” You say, putting your finger to his lips. He stops talking, and you continue, “I trust you Buck, I’ll tell you if you’re holding me too hard. Plus I like it a little rough.” You finish with a wink at him, pulling his hand back to your waist.

He drops his head back, eyes closed and takes a deep breath in. He mumbles under his breath something that sounds like ‘god you’re perfect’, then he crashes his lips back into yours, both hands tightening on your hips.

He moves faster now, more intense with his kiss, his teeth scraping yours slightly and he presses you backwards, walking with you until you bump into the wall, his flesh hand stopping your head from hitting it.

Aww how sweet. The thought is thrown from your head when Bucky drops his head and presses kisses to your jaw, his hand curling in your hair to pull your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, as he licks a long stripe up your neck, nipping at the pulse points he finds. Your hands drop to his hips and pull him flush to you, groaning when you feel how much you’ve affected him. He kisses his way back to your lips, his metal hand moving to rest on the side of your neck, thumb resting in the front of your neck. Bucky gives you a long hard kiss then pulls back breathing hard.

“God girl, you are gonna be the death of me,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours as he talks.

“Fuck I hope not,” you respond, pulling his hips tighter against yours making him choke back a groan at the feeling.

His phone starts to ring.

Fuck off.

You pull him to you again, lips trailing across his jaw.

“Shit doll, wait a second baby-” he starts before you cut him off.

“Wait? Wait for what Buck, you don’t want me?” You tease, brushing your nose along his.

He crashes his lips against yours, his ringtone fading as his kiss overtakes your mind. Bucky pulls back after a few seconds, growling softly before stepping back to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously gonna answer that?” You ask, incredulous to his action.

“I have to darlin, could be an emergency,” he answers, taping the screen to answer. He puts the phone to his ear and says, “talk to me.”

You ignore his conversation, grabbing his metal hand to inspect it. The plates shift as you turn it over to look at the palm.

What an incredible feat of engineering, I wonder how it works. And how it feels-

Your dirty thoughts are cut short as he pulls his hand out of your grip, turning and taking a few steps away from you. His voice is quiet, probably to keep you from hearing whatever illegal shit they were discussing.

You jump when he shouts.

“THE FUCK? Rogers you get them to find more information on those shitheads, or I swear to fuck I will rip their fucking hearts out. I don’t care anymore, this shit needs to stop right the fuck now!” He stops his tirade and listens to ‘Rogers’ on the other side for a few second before he starts up again, “I know that asshole…one of the fuckers is married, find the wife… I have no idea if she’s involved man, I doubt it but she’d be good leverage… and get me some more information on their business so I’m not going into this shit show unprepared.”

That gets your full attention. Find the wife? Leverage? And do what? Threaten her? Hurt her? …kill her?

A shiver rips its way down your spine at that thought.

Would he do that? If she’s not a part of the issue, would he still hurt her? He already proved he’d hurt anyone that fucked him over, proved that when he stuck his gun in my mouth.

“Yeah…I know, get Stark on it, send Talia and Barton out too, see if they can get any news on the street… tell Barton to keep his cool, I don’t need anymore shit right now” Bucky says, switching the phone to his metal hand, using his flesh one to pull at his hair again.

His back is still turned to you, his coat stretches over his shoulder, the back rising with his hand in his hair.

He has a gun in his waistband.

Your eyes flit to the glock he drop on the floor earlier, and back to the one tucked in his waistband.

Is two guns really necessary?

Your answer comes with his next sentence.

“Fuck Steve I know that…you think I got this far without any personal protection? I’m good if anything happens man but I don’t think it will, they seemed pretty insistent on the fact they meant no harm..”

He continues to talk for a minute until he ends the call with a quick “get it done Steve, or we’re all fucked.” He places the phone back in his pocket, takes a few deep breaths and turns back to you with a tense look on his face. He takes another deep breath and steps towards you. Without meaning to you take a step back, hitting the wall behind you. Bucky stops as soon as he sees your movement.

“Sorry about that sweetheart, didn’t mean to upset ya.” He says, his voice quiet and calm, as if he was talking to a injured dog.

You let the silence linger for a second, deciding whether or not to ask the question that was begging to be said.

Fuck it.

“What are you going to do to her?”

He tilts his head at the question, unsure of what you’re talking about.

You take pity on his confusion.

“The wife? What are you going to do when you find her?”

Something settles in his eyes, his mouth twisting into a grim line.

“Nothing…unless I have to.” Bucky responds.

His answer does nothing to calm your pounding heart.

“You mean you won’t do anything unless you find out she’s involved?”

“Yes.”

“So you won’t do anything if she’s not a part of …whatever it is?” You ask.

“That’s right.” He nods with his answer.

“Except use her as leverage?”

He’s silent for a moment, and sighs as he rolls his left shoulder. He doesn’t break eye contact, and he’s completely resigned to whatever his answer is about to be.

“If I have to.” There is no lie in his voice, no guilt or remorse in his eyes.

Holy fuck. There’s the soldier again, the man with no mercy, does whatever he needs to come out on top.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?

He answers like he heard your thought.

“It’s business doll, we do what we have to do. Sometimes it’s rough and bad and awful and yes, people get hurt. Sometimes even innocent people get hurt. But I will never apologise for being the one that does the hurting, me and mine have had our fair share of getting hurt, and I’d rather hurt and use some people I don’t care about, than watch my people, my family, get hurt. I will not allow that to happen, not when I can to something about it.” He stands straight, like a soldier. The conviction in his voice actually makes you feel calmer.

Assuming I’m someone he cares about, I should be fine, right?

It slips off your tongue before you can catch it.

“Do you care about me?” You shift your weight as you talk, unsure if you actually want to hear the answer.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He states, his tone steady.

“Say it properly,” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest, a subconscious way of protecting yourself, “I need you to say it properly Bucky.”

He shifts his weight now, seemingly uncomfortable.

“Yes… I do care about you,” he answers, clearing his throat in the middle of his statement, “do you care about me?”

You were unprepared for him to flip it back on you.

“I need you to answer truthfully Y/n. Do you care about me, as I am? The ‘big bad mobster’” he says, taking a step closer to you, and taking another when you don’t move away from him.

“The man who broke into your flat to threaten your roommate who owes me? The one who was going to shoot your friends dead on the street? The one who stuck a gun in your face? I’m a killer Y/n, a fucking mobster, and I’m not changing any time soon. Do you care about me as I am?” He asks, reminding you of the shit he’s done since you met him, not even counting the things you haven’t heard about.

You take a second to consider his questions.

I think I do, how fucked am I that I do?

You finally clock what he said.

“You were going to shoot who dead on the street?!”

————

hehehehe I feel like an evil mastermind.

If you are not tagged here- I either will tag you in a separate post- or I cannot tag you for some reason.

Tags:

@shuriri4life @calwitch @goodkittyspost @iateall-yourcookies @miss-i-ship-it @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @anawhitethorn @radiator-hands @tripletstephaniescp @yeahimcrying @shifting2places @1-800-bxrnes @fandomsfallnomore @bushtail @ghostofwinter @missdarlingsb @amiets2 @leabunny @justmarlen3 @bofadeezs @jehduxi @grey107th @king-of-spades-aroace @sebismyhubby @princezzjasmine @sebastianswhore @cluckityduck

@sleepyghostygirl @starlightaurorab @where-the-river-bends @imagines-of-the-fandom @bigenargy @uraverageatiny @squeezyvalkyrie @mylifeispainandiloveit @mrvlxgrl @bopbeepboopbopbeep @yvessaintmuerte @thecubanator2 @flubblubbb @teambarnes72 @ria132love @rivthejellyfish @mybakubaby @blue-chup @goatsmcgee @facinated-lemon @daddylorianisastateofmind @buckybarnesb-tch

[credince--writes]

Hands (1)

God, you dream of those hands.

Original Prompt:

Size Kink & Breeding Kink with Konig.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - AO3

Konig x Fem! Reader

(A/N): I accidentally fuckin deleted the original post while trying to add links to the other 2 chapters, so reposting LMAO. I'M SO SAD BC IT WAS ONE OF MY BEST PREFORMING POSTS.

Honestly? It started in a very innocent way.

"I'm taking off your gloves."

He sat in front of you, tapping his foot on the cold tile. Currently under the attention of you from the intended use of his hands in combat.

Which is why you were inspecting for broken knuckles.

Most of his gear had been taken off, set aside along with the hood that donned his head on missions. Now, you were pulling the gloved that clung to the asking of his hands off. Inspecting the pale skin beneath them.

"You know, I'm starting to think you do dumb shit like this on purpose." You glance up at him.

"I'd never." He replied.

"Because I'm lookin' at these hands, and I'm seeing a whole lot of unnecessary bruising."

"It was necessary."

You quirked a brow.

"You just, happen to lose your gun there soldier?" You pulled back, leaning back against your seat and shooting him an amused glance.

"Sometimes, things are better done by hand."

"mmhm." You mumbled.

Eyes trailed up his hands, finding stray scars and following the veins leading up to his forearms.

Man,

those were some big hands.

"Is everything alright, doctor?" He asks, amusement twirling around in his eyes, sparking out in his voice.

Maybe he was catching on to your oogling.

"Just making sure nothing broken. Can't imagine it would be fun to work with broken fingers."

"Nein."

"This hurt?" You ask.

"Nein."

"Then you're fine. I'll give you some meds and send you off on your way."

"Danke!" He shot up, clamping a hand down on your shoulder, man near enveloping your entire left side.

You started to imagine what it would be like if that big hand wrapped around your neck.

"Be careful, please."

"Of course." He shot a sideways, toothy grin. The side that his nose crooked over to and the side with the one crooked canine that made him look like a dog ready to chase a bone.

He turned, starting to walk away.

"You know, König." You stated. He stopped a turned around. "If you want to visit me, you don't need to have an injury."

His eyebrows raised, and you could swear there was a blush that tinted his cheeks. "I'll consider that for next time."

Before turning and leaving.

And he did visit you.

One visit turned into two.

Then four.

Then he just popped in so often while he was not on a mission he became part of your routine.

Have a cup of coffee with König in the morning, maybe even join him for dinner and enjoy it in the sanctity of your quiet and private office.

Just so happened that the longer you spent with him the more your thoughts were clouded.

His hands,

his thighs,

fuck, you can't even imagine how big his cock would be.

You'd like to think you were better than this.

Pressed up in your shower thinking about the huge man, wondering what his bare chest would feel like curling up over your back.

You closed your eyes, trying to picture just how good it would feel.

It would be right after he comes back from a mission, the dark look in his eyes still clouding his consciousness as he's still in the mindset of a soldier, a killer.

His steps would be heavier- you'd hear him walk into the bathroom, the rustling of clothing as he strips the cloth covering his flesh discarded down to the ground without a second thought.

He'd slip into the shower, with your head placed under the stream of hot water. Almost comically so, his head would be unable to reach the stream of water without immensely bending at the knees.

You'd hum, leaning back into him as he'd reach his arm around your waist, pulling your wet body closer to his. Head dropping down for his mouth to latch onto the nape of your neck, biting and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Gasping throwing your head back farther and allowing it to bump against his shoulder, letting out a light whine that he'd love to harvest from your throat.

One hand would drift down, widening his palm as it flattened and slid down your tummy, nearly covering the expanse of your abdomen before it dipped down, lower.

His other hand would grab your chin, pulling your head back to meet into a feverish kiss. Pressing your back up against the cold wall of the shower, holding it up against it.

On a normal occasion, you'd be terrified to slip, but you just know with his arm slinked around over you waist toying dangerously close to your cunt that there was no chance of slipping.

No chance of him letting you go.

A digit would brush up through your folds collecting the slippery production of your arousal, dragging his finger ever so carefully up until it traced around your clit. Circling it, dangerously so.

Applying pressure as the rough pad of his finger pushed against your clit, mouth devouring any noises you let out.

It hurt, in a way.

One that was so delicious you only wanted more.

His large finger pressing down on your clit felt heavenly, the feeling of his tongue pushing against yours as you swapped spit in the most degenerating fashion.

Your hips unconsciously pushed forward against his hand, bucking as he pressed you firmly against the wall.

He'd tsk, giving you a light scolding before removing his mouth from yours completely, allowing a thin strand of spit to cast its way from him lips to yours.

God.

You could just die.

He'd snicker, that snicker that made his lip quirk upward revealing his crooked tooth. All before he'd lean in and ask,

"What do you want me to do, Schatz?"

"Fuckkkk." You'd whine, letting your head bump against the shower wall. "Please." You'd whisper out.

"Hm?" He'd ask, still toying his finger around your clit.

"Finger me- fuck, please. Please finger me."

His finger would leave your clit, diving back down and just barely poking into your entrance.

The digit was long and thick- it felt like nearly two of your own being stuffed inside you. Even more so as the single digit could curl up in such a delectable manner pressing up against the spongey roof of your core.

You'd breathe harshly, ducking your head up against his neck and arm gripping at the expanse of his back and nails digging into the pale and freckled flesh.

He'd add a second digit, and you felt like you were on cloud nine.

No,

You felt like you were on cloud nine as he removed his free hand from you, bringing it down and rubbing on your clit as his other hand pumped mechanically in and out of you, curling his fingers forward and circling the pad of his finger against your clit.

It would feel like your legs would give out first, but he'd keep you upright as you came, his mouth would latch onto yours. Shoving his tongue into your mouth claiming you in the best way possible.

Body draped over yours, his large hands pleasing you to the point of competition-

Blinking, you realized there was no man draped behind you.

The water in the shower had run cold a long time ago, but the pleasant buzz in your head from your shameful masturbation numbed any embarrassment for a few moments.

You sighed, turning off the water and glancing down at your fingers.

For now? Thinking of his large hands would have to do.

[rocknroll7575]

Gardian ghost

Jaune: MAY YOU TIED WITH PYRRHA GREAT JOB

Weiss: OH please she only won because of her semblance it's not a real tie Pyrrha should never have tied with anyone let alone her

Jaune : Oh but when Pyrrha uses her semblance to make her opponents weapons just miss or Yang hit her opponent harder the more she's hurt or yours it's a fair and square victory but with my teams it's not a real win

Weiss: It's different

Jaune: HOW explain to mine and your teams how it's different

(You think May tied!? NO SHE FUCKING WON!)

Weiss: Zedong only won simply because of her semblance, she would have lost if the fight was pure physical combat.

Jaune: *Glares* You're right, but a fight isn't always physical combat, Schnee, it only matters if you win, who cares how? After all, do you think people like Roman Torchwick or Raven Branwen are going to fight fair?

Weiss: of course not-!

Jaune: Then why should we? Ms. Rose tells us every time that when it's a fight to the death, winning is all that matters, we have to use whatever we have! Just admit it... you're just a sore loser!

Weiss: A Schnee does not lose!!! I nor my team will ever lose to the likes of you!

Pyrrha: Weiss, perhaps you should stop-!

Weiss: WHY!? Arc and his team are nothing compared to us! Why take this loss so easily Pyrrha!? You were beaten by the likes of a sand eater!

May: Whoa! What the fuck did you call me!?

Cardin: *Grips mace* You better watch what you say next Schnee!

Weiss: Or what Winchester? Gonna defend her like that faunus mother of yours!?

Cardin: *Furious* DON'T YOU SAY A WORD ABOUT MY MOTHER!

Pyrrha: *Steps between Weiss and ARCZ* Hang on! Let's not escalate this more than we already have!

Jaune: *Glares at Pyrrha* You really gonna defend her after all the shit she just said!?

Pyrrha: N-No! I-I'm not trying to defend-!

Reese: *Steps forward* Then what are you gonna do about what she said, Nikos!? You're the damn leader! Talk some sense into her!

Pyrrha: I... I don't...

Reese: *rolls eyes* Whatever, be a pushover... but just to let you know, she's the reason you're entire team is disliked

Jaune: *Sighs* Let's go guys

*ARCZ leaves*

*Yang & Arslan walk up next to Pyrrha and Weiss*

Yang: You know, Reese's has a point

Weiss: You can't be serious!?

Arslan: You just called May a Sand Eater and called out Cardin for having a Faunus mom, what next? Gonna make fun of me for where I came from or who my parents were?

Weiss: I would never do such a thing!

Yang: Why? Because we're of use to you?

Weiss: because... your my friends...

Arslan: *Scoffs* friends, riiight! Don't fool yourself, you're a Schnee, all you see are assets and tools... you don't see us for us *Walks away*

Yang: *Looks at Pyrrha* should have let her get punched in the face, might have made her realize something *follows Arslan*

Pyrrha: *looks at the floor ashamed*

Weiss: *Huffs* Those two are... are just being dolts! I am not being-

Pyrrha: *Mutters* Shut up...

Weiss: Pyrrha...?

Pyrrha: *Looks up at Weiss with tears* J-Just... shut up... please...! *Walks away*

*Weiss looks in shock as she stands alone in the hallway feeling alone and looks down at the ground*

XXX

Not a Weiss Hater, just making her a total bitch before she gets her character development!

Also, the reason she's a bit more of a terrible person is because, unlike her canon self, Jacques wanted a mini-him, and with Winter out of the picture and Willow taking Whitely, he completely molded Weiss into his own image.

[scoutswritingcorner]

What about an au where Striker works for I.M.P? 🥺

Striker Working for I.M.P

Striker x GN! Reader

A/N: I know you just wanted to do an AU where you wanted just Striker but I am a gay simp for this fucking maniac of a cowboy. 

TW:None?

-☠️Either you just joined or are just training with him whilst the others are out? He’s a hard teacher no doubt. He’ll critique every little thing but he means it in a nice way. He doesn’t need you getting hurt or killed on his watch.

-☠️ Will teach you hand to hand combat and how to disarm someone quickly just in case.

-☠️ A huge lonewolf still but much more easier to get along with cause he has a huge soft spot for you and only you, (he has one for the whole gang but don’t point it out)

-☠️ Still wears his cowboy get up but he strikes me as a fellow who also likes to wear sweaters and a denim jacket everywhere he goes. Also blue jeans and his iconic boots with his hat. You’ll never see him hatless unless he’s letting you and only you wear it.

Platonic Route

-☠️ Big Brother energy. He’ll annoy the shit out of you and then act like it wasn’t his fault.

-☠️ Will steal your snacks and then act like he didn’t. Don’t worry he gets you some more.

-☠️ Will fight you over some stupid shit. Like a kill or if you ate some of his food.

-☠️ Very sweet though, someone hitting on you or unwanted attention? He’s behind you and glaring at the person.

-☠️ Partner acting a fool? He’s immediately taking your side. They cheated? Their car is totaled and they have broken legs. 

-☠️ HE LOVES TALKING SHIT ABOUT EVERYONE. Just go up to him and start talking, he’s immediately focused on you and what’s going on.

-☠️ Gets Loona in on it too cause he also acts like an older brother figure to her and now it’s turned into you three around her desk spilling some fucking hot ass tea. Maybe about your ex or someone else you all collectively hate.

-☠️ Once again, he hates Stolas but he also acts like a big brother to Octavia and will take you, Loona and Octavia out on the town to just relax or have fun. Don’t worry he’s got his gun and knife if anyone tries shit. He ain’t afraid to get his hands dirty to protect his people.

-☠️ He hates photos of himself. He doesn’t like to be perceived but he will let you three take photos of him but he’s a big ole grump about it.

Romantic Route

-☠️Oh boy, he’s even more protective than before. If you both are on the job and he thinks it’s going to be a tougher kill? He’s taking it and sends you off to go check on the others. 

-☠️ That one scene in the D.H.O.R.K.S episode where Blitz and Moxxie were taken? Yeah you were with them and when Striker got you back with the others? He’s feral. He will kill anything that touches a single hair on your head.

You hang your head in shame as you listen to Blitz and Moxxie yell back and forth with one another. How did you allow yourself to get caught? The doors busted open as Millie, Loona and Striker ran over, a crazed look in his eyes. “Oh shit- You okay darling?”  He asked untying you from the chair and pulling you close, checking all over you for any injuries. “I’ll kill these bastards if they hurt ya” He snarled out.

-☠️Such a sweetheart. He’s more prone to lazing around the office with you if there’s nothing to do and will occasionally take naps. 

-☠️ Out on the town with him? He’s spoiling the fuck out of your ass. Like it’s unreal.

-☠️ Loves going to fairs with you, it’s prime time for him to get you everything and to show off his shooting skills.

-☠️In this AU Bombproof is a motorcycle cause I said so and he takes care of it like its his baby. He also gets you your own helmet and lets you ride with him through the city. Date nights are much more fun when you're speeding through each ring and seeing different sites.

-☠️Loves getting/giving good luck kisses. If you don’t give him one before a mission he thinks he’s gonna fail and it bothers him. Doesn’t matter if it’s a kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead. He wants his good luck kiss.

[solaarbeeam]

Y2K - mina ashido x black!reader

tw/cw:: n-word drops, cursing, mina is portrayed as a black woman so if you don’t like that, this ain’t the fic for u

A/N:: as a bisexual, I gotta pour one up for the bnha girlies and so here I am :)

- You and Mina were the very first couple of the year in Class 1-A. The both of you clicked fast enough for it to happen, and the minute after internships, the both of you declared it official.

- Lazy days are a thing for the two of you, but as two esteemed members of the Bakusquad, getting Bakugou to leave the both of yall niggas alone to be lazy is nearly impossible.

- You tend to help out Mina with your homework, because last in the class rankings is highkey a problem. Mina, of course, whines about it but gives in eventually because who is she to deny the cute face you make when you’re upset?

- Nail dates are a must. Mina likes all different kinds of funky and fun colors on her nails and will always invite you to match, to which you will always say yes. You both share the same nail tech, who makes sure to make your nails cute but simple enough so you can use them during hero training.

- Being with Mina has inspired her to work harder, instead of just matching up with the stronger classmates. Seeing you accomplish new things with your quirk and hand to hand combat makes her want to work harder, not only for you, but for herself as well.

- On the topic of hero training, she’s absolutely rooting for you to win even if it may be impossible. You do the same for her, and once when she got the drop on Bakugou in a sparring match, you jumped for joy and got to praise immediately.

- “Awe yeah! I bet yall niggas ain’t know my girl could do that, huh?”

- The feelings are the same once you pulled off a move with Shinsou during the Class Joint Training.

- “How the hell is Class B gonna win when we got them pullin’ shit off like that?! Making them Class B niggas look stupid, I see you bae!!”

- Mina is truly the sweetest girlfriend.

She does wash days with you as well. Midoriya joins occasionally, as the three of you are the only ones in the class with hair in the group four category. Mina helps you with washing it, drying it, conditioning it well and making sure it's never dry.

"Gotta make sure my baby is done right, we'll both look cute!"

While UA is a uniform school, you do have your moments where Nedzu will be the spontaneous principal he is and calls days where students are allowed to dress down.

Now, obviously, these days come once in a blue moon so everybody gotta pop out with some of the best school-appropriate outfits possible, and when it's time to serve, the two of you will serve.

Matching outfits, coordinating colors, everything up to the accessories is matched and looks amazing. The both of you are always stars when it comes to things like this, and it often has a lot of people giving you compliments.

Even after graduating and becoming fully fledged pro-heroes, the outfit matching never stopped. In fact, without school rules, it increased. At all the hero galas the reporters would line up just to get the flick of the night from the two of you.

Whether it be through mountains high or rivers low, Mina loves you. She, and you, wouldn't have it any other way.

© solaarbeeam 2024. reposting and plagiarism are not allowed.

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Fatal Attraction

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Mentions of sexual stuff.

Summary: Natasha gets hurt during a mission with Wanda, and Wanda for some reason found herself more attracted to Nat. Yes, in her state on injury. (Featuring Y/n, Natasha's dumbass little brother and Wanda's wingman)

"Incoming!" The young super soldier yelled as he jumped into the Quinjet with his best friend. Wanda groaned at his antics, wanting nothing more than to go home and continue watching her shows.

Y/n had insisted Wanda that they flew into the back of the Quinjet instead of entering like a normal person. It's not that Wanda didn't have the heart to say no, Y/n simply doesn't take no for an answer. "So long fuckers!" He gave the middle finger as the door closes.

"Will you stop using my powers for your little attractions?" Wanda asked.

"Gosh you train with Nat too much you're starting to sound like her." Y/n rolled his eyes.

"That's not a bad thing! She get things done."

"I get shit done too! But, I make it fun."

"Not when we're-"

"Ugh quiet you two, you're being too loud." They heard Natasha complained. The two young Avengers glanced at her and their face twisted into concern when they finally noticed her injury.

Before Y/n could approach his sister, Wanda was quick to be at her side. "Natasha! What happened?"

Natasha shook it off with a faint smirk, "Don't worry about it Wanda. It's just a scratch."

"This is not just a scratch."

"I've had worse."

"You need to go to the med bay."

The former Russian spy rolled her eyes, "No doctors."

"Wands, there's no point. One time she got a broken rib and she still wouldn't go." Y/n snickered, he was concerned for Nat, but he knew she had went through worse. A flesh wound on the side of her stomach was nothing... To the Black Widow I mean.

Meanwhile Wanda's eyes grew wide at the new information. "Just take a seat, little witch. I'll handle this." Natasha said gently. Natasha was normally sarcastic to everyone, yet she had a soft spot for the young witch. Wanda blushed slightly at the nickname.

Wanda took a seat across from Natasha, Y/n approached his sister and handed her a medkit. "You good?"

"Just a normal flesh-wound-Friday, I'm good." She responded with a flat face. Her little brother rolled his eyes and took a seat next to her.

"You're always so mean to me. Wanda doesn't get this kind of treatment." He grumbled.

"Because she's kind and cute, meanwhile you're a pain in my ass." Wanda's heart skipped a beat, she thinks I'm cute? She heard her best friend groaned again.

Wanda and Natasha had been growing closer each day, especially now that Natasha was mentoring her. Wanda was close to Y/n first, as they were closer to age and not to mention he was the first to welcome her into the Avengers. Natasha took a little while longer, not that she had any resentment towards the young girl, she just wasn't exactly a people person.

Now that Steve had assigned Natasha to mentor Wanda in hand-to-hand combat, the two women are now closer than they were before. And also caused Wanda's itty bitty tiny crush on Natasha to grew. Y/n knew of course, Wanda was not subtle, at ALL.

The way her gaze would follow Nat at the gym, or how Wanda would blush whenever Natasha gave her compliments. Honestly, he might've been the one who gave Steve the idea to assign them to train together. You'll never know.

It seems like Wanda was too deep in thought as she failed to notice that Natasha had unzipped her suit in order to stitch the flesh wound on her stomach. She only looked up when she heard Natasha saying, "Keep it steady Steve."

Holyfuck, Wanda turned as red as her powers. The widow had her suit partially unzipped from the waist up, she had the sleeves of her suit take off as well to give her more flexibility. Showing off her toned bicep and of fuck her rock hard abs. Wanda let in a sharp breath.

Natasha, who has ears like a hawk, looks up at Wanda and gave her a wink. "Like what you see?"

Wanda knows Natasha is a flirt, but damn you don't gotta do her like that. Wanda quickly averted her gaze. She swore she tried to maintain her eyes elsewhere but with Natasha grunting as she tended her wounds, it's pretty fucking difficult.

She used alcohol to clean up the wound, and winced. "Agh shit-" Natasha cursed. Well that twisted something in Wanda's stomach. Y/n who had been playing on his phone, internally scoffed at his sister. She was doing this on purpose. He decided to pull out his earbuds, I'm hearin none of that.

The widow was more than capable of not making any sounds when her injuries are being cleaned. Y/n knew damn well Natasha was just teasing Wanda.

"Do you uh... need any help?" Wanda asked timidly.

"It's alright, little witch. It's nothing I can't handle." Natasha winked again. Christ, Wanda is a mess right now.

Natasha grunted again, "Ugh fuck-" she rested her head back and purposely tightened her abs. Wanda's mind raced again at the thought of hearing Natasha curse while they're in bed as she rides her abs-

No- nooope no no no

Wanda quickly shook to the thought again. The whole ride to the compound felt excruciatingly long. Natasha had opted to wear a tank top that she kept hidden somewhere in the Quinjet. (Don't question her-)

When the quinjet door flew open Y/n was the first to dart out, Steve followed after him. He look back at the two women, "Wanda, make sure she goes to the med bay. The wound still needs a proper cleaning."

"Leave it, fossil." Natasha said flatly as the two walked beside each other. Steve merely gave them a kind smile and continue his way inside the compound.

"Do you need any assistance?" Wanda asked.

"In what terms?" The widow teasingly asked. Wanda turned bright red again.

"I- you know what I mean." Natasha let out a soft laugh, she sounds so beautiful. Wanda could listen to Natasha laughing all day.

"It's alright, little witch. I can walk to my own room."

"Nu uh! Steve said-"

"Wands, I've had wounds like these many times in my life. I can handle it." Natasha said gently with a smile.

Wanda huffed slightly like a little child, shit she's so adorable. "At least let me walk you back to your room then?"

Natasha chuckles, "Alright, lead the way." The two women made their way in a comfortable silence. They reached their shared floor and soon enough they reached Natasha's room. "Well, here we are."

Natasha opened the door to her room and look back at Wanda who was standing outside awkwardly, "Are you sure you don't need to get to the med bay?" Wanda asked again. Her face showed concerns for the other woman.

Natasha gave her a gentle smile again, fuck her smile she's absolutely gorgeous. "I'm sure." Natasha retreats further back into her room. "I'll see you around, Wanda." She closes the door. Wanda lets out the breath she had been holding.

Fuck everything about this woman drives her crazy. Even as simple as Natasha saying her name. She wonders how her name sound if Natasha moaned it-

"I swear how many seasons do I have to wait til you guys get together." Wanda heard a voice beside her and yelped in surprise. She turned to find her best friend standing in the hallway leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. He had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" She asked Y/n.

"You like her, she likes you. Seriously, stop with the tension and just kiss already-" Wanda quickly shut his mouth with her hand.

"SHHHHH-"

Y/n's face cringes in confusion, "Hmpf?!"

"You can't just say things like that!"

"Like what??" He asked as Wanda let go of her hand over his mouth. "That you like her?"

Wanda glared and shut his mouth again. Y/n being the dumb best friend decided to stick their tongue out causing Wanda to pull her hand back and wipe it on his face. "EW!"

"Noo!!! I'll get a breakout-"

"Then don't lick my fucking hand!" She yelled in hushed whisper.

"Wanda, as your friend, and her brother, I'm telling you just ask her out or something."

"What if she says no?" Wanda asked, "Beside I don't want to ask her out until I'm sure she's into women."

With that Y/n gave a very, very, extremely, disappointed look. "You really did not just say that." Did she not hear the part where I said, 'she likes you'?

"What?"

"I-" Y/n shook his head. "Never mind." He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Y/n? What does that mean?!!" She chased after her friend.

These dumb lesbians I swear.

I just wanted an excuse to use that pic of Nat, teheeeeee. Hope you guys liked this! I'm still not sure whether or not to make this into a series or nah, butt i love me sum Nat x Sibling!reader shenanigans.

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

Hi there hello I need elaboration on both of these immediately they're so fucking cool

yo thank you so much!!! and thank you for asking about them! i still like these drawings and i do have ideas in my head on the story behind them 👍

sticking it below a “read more” cuz i don’t want to clog anyone’s feed:

i’ll start with the second image. so the deal here is that my farmer samuel, as a “player”, has access to things like an inventory and ability to heal wounds by just eating food. he’s also in a magic contract with yoba where he gets extra powers, like higher pain tolerance, combat skills, and teleportation. there are costs of course, but it still makes samuel into a monster-slaying machine. which yoba needs them to be in order to help it do things like traverse the mines to find the missing pieces of itself in powerful monsters. problem is, samuel tends to get kind of scary when they’re in battle mode. they get lost in it.

for the first image, the big space tree snake is essentially yoba’s true form. this scene is meant to be part of a season finale kinda episode where Major Shit has gone and is going down. pelican town is being attacked by an enemy force, which i’m still trying to brainstorm on, but i think it’s gonna be a cult that thinks they’re following “yoba’s will.” that “will” being given to them by a mysterious otherworldly being that they think is yoba (but obviously isn’t).

anyway, things are looking pretty bad. town’s burning, most of the residents are being held under siege at the saloon where they evacuated to, and all the capable fighters like marlon and rasmodius are out of commission (not dead, just injured or something). the idea here is that samuel ends up last line of defense. but during a big dramatic anime fight scene, he gets very badly wounded. and yoba finally snaps and is able to find the power in itself to unleash its true form to protect everyone. yknow. classic cute hero shit like that. i love my cheese. :) 🧀

i was thinking of mr. qi being the main villain, pulling strings behind the scenes (like manipulating a cult into believing you’re yoba). i think of qi as an alien being like yoba, but they have beef with each other. BUT AGAIN, still thinking about it. like motivations n stuff. for instance, is qi doing this just for fun? or is he following the orders of someone or something even bigger? or is he just trying to bring back some kind of equilibrium to the universe? idk for sure yet.

none of these ideas i wrote in this post aren’t completely set in stone though. i might find something i like even better. who knows! thanks again for encouraging my ramblings. 💙

[attyslittlespace]

TAKE CARE OF YOU (SAM X LITTLE! READER)

WORD COUNT: 813

Authors Note: This is my first time writing! I made it for fun so sorry if it isn't perfect 😖

Warning(s): Sam cusses like once lol

It was friday, and even though it was only 2nd period, the day had been extremely stressful. First, you didn’t hear your alarm go off, so you had less than 10 minutes to get ready and leave. Then, you spilled water on your shirt on the way to 1st period, and by the time you cleaned up yourself and the floor, the bell had rang and you were late. Finally, by the time you got to class, you realized there was a test, a test you didn’t study for. So here you are in 2nd period: Stressed, tired, annoyed, and upset. Fortunately though, your friend Sam was in that class to cheer you up. As usual, he wasn’t doing any work, just leaned back in his chair and reading a new comic he bought at Frog’s Comic Shop.

“You know, I’d allow you to borrow any of my comics if you were ever interested in reading them.” Sam looks at you, smiling and closing his comic book to pay attention to you. “Mhm..” You reply, mustering up a smile and a slight nod. You weren’t really in the mood for conversation. You were nervous. In the privacy of your home, you usually regressed to combat stress, and it was always voluntary. So when you felt yourself slipping, you were confused and nervous. You had never regressed involuntarily before, and what made it worse was that it was in front of Sam. What would he think? Would he make fun of you? These thoughts were running around your mind when you finally hear a familiar voice snap you out of it. “Hey… is everything ok?” Sam speaks up, tilting his head that has a concerned expression on it. He rests his hand on your back and leans in a little closer. “Just… stressful day… n… noth…” You try to speak, but everytime you do your voice starts slipping into your little voice. You try to stop it but your brain does it anyway. You regressed. He giggles at you. “Are you regressing?” He asks, his contaigious smile flashing his teeth at you. Your eyes grow wide. He knows what age regression is? He tells by your facial expression that you are and laughs. “I do that shit all the time!” He admits. You just look at him im awe, some because of his response, some because toddler brain. He grabs your hand and holds it. “Hey… you can regress in front of me… its okay.” He tells you, his voice gentle.

The bell rings and it’s now free period. “Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam asks, picking up his stuff and throwing his backpack on. “Nuh uh.” You reply, also picking up your stuff. “Then you should hang out with me, I’ll take care of you.” He takes your hand and leads you out of the classroom. He takes you out to the courtyard and you both sit under a tree. It’s spring in Santa Carla, so it’s very bright and sunny outside. Sam reaches in his bag and pulls out a pink marker. He always had different stationary stuff in his bag to doodle with in class instead of pay attention. “Gimmie your arm cutie.” He uses a petname on you and you cant help but smile and giggle at him. You give him your arm and he starts to draw on it. He draws hearts, stars, and, of course, the superman symbol. You watch him, kicking your legs and mindlessly chewing on your thumb. You quietly babble and giggle to yourself, to nothing and everything at all. Sam stops and looks up at you, giggling with you. “How old are you silly?” He asks, taking the thumb out of your mouth. “Uhhh…” You reply, smiling and shrugging your shoulders. He giggles are your response. “Well you're definitely too little to be at such a grown up school!” He teases, making you just giggle more. “Someone got attacked by the giggle monster today didn’t they?” he coos at you. ”Nuh uh!!” You protest, but your uncontrollable giggling just proves his point. He goes back to drawing on your arm until you slowly unregress. It’s about 5 minutes until next period.

“Hey, sam… thank you…” You tell him. He stops drawing on you and looks up, realizing you aren’t regressed anymore. “Of course! I would want someone else to do the same if I regressed at school!” He replies, smiling and putting up the marker, your arm now covered in drawings. “So… you regress?” You ask. “Yeah, for fun, but I’ve never accidentally regressed like you just did.” You both stand up and gather your things. “Well, if you ever did I’d take care of you.” You smile at him, hearing the bell ring.

“Thank you, cutie.”