#but follow each other is a impossible mission huh?

[adutchlover]

I find it really funny, because every time without exception, when these two post stories, they always appear side by side on my Instagram. Always.

[vunblr]

Toy Soldier (part 3)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Canon-Typical Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims)

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

Word Count: 6.8.k.

notes: This chapter includes flashbacks to non-con situations. Please be mindful of your media consumption and take care of yourself. Passages containing this content are marked with ****** at the beginning and the end, in case you wish to skip them.

Previous Chapter

The next days passed uneventfully after the brawl at the bar. Every location listed in the government-provided intelligence was either empty or completely inconsistent with the reports. It felt like chasing ghosts, a frustrating pattern that left them all on edge.

By the end of the week, they were on a military plane heading back to New York. Sam leaned back in his seat, glancing idly at the other two. It didn’t take him long to notice that they were... talking.

Not in the awkward way of the first days, or the strictly mission-related conversations that followed. In fact, it wasn’t the body language he’d expect from two people who barely knew each other. Bucky’s body was more relaxed than Sam had seen in years while interacting with someone, and at one point, he caught a faint smile on Tinman’s face, a real smile.

What the hell happened between those two?

Asking Bucky directly wasn’t an option. The guy was like a human wall when it came to personal questions. He had learned long ago that pushing him only made him clam up more.

No, if he wanted answers, he’d have to go to the other source. She might be more willing to spill the details, especially if he caught her in a casual moment.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his seat. He’d find a chance to ask her soon, maybe over coffee. Whatever had happened on this mission had clearly done the impossible: it got the Winter Sulkier to actually drop the act.

His attention was drawn back when he noticed Bucky tense slightly, as his expression shifted while she asked him a question. She leaned toward him, perched on the edge of her seat, focusing on the phone he held in his hand. Sam, feigning a search through one of the nearby bags, edged closer to eavesdrop.

“See, you just tap here,” Bucky said, oddly patient, something Sam would’ve thought impossible coming from him. “Then swipe left to go back, or hit this button if you want to-”

“Wait, wait,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “So anyone can message me, or is it just the guys I pick if we... match?” Her brows furrowed, her tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Sam’s eyes widened slightly. Is he teaching her how to use a dating app?

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Just the ones you match with,” he replied evenly. “But... don’t expect much. Most of these guys don’t know how to hold a conversation past ‘hey.’”

She snorted. “That’s it? No effort at all?” Then she tilted her head. “How’d it go for you, then? Using the app, I mean.”

Bucky shrugged, with a carefully neutral expression. “Tried it a little. Didn’t stick with it.”

She narrowed her eyes and the corners of her lips twitched in amusement. “You ‘tried it a little,’ huh? Because you seem to know a lot about it for someone who barely used it.”

He shot her a quick look before deadpan. “You pick things up.”

“Uh-huh.” She leaned back slightly, crossing her arms as she studied him. “Come on, you are handsome, you can’t tell me you didn’t get one match.”

“I got a few,” he admitted reluctantly, blushing slightly. “Didn’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?” she pressed.

He hesitated, and his discomfort was more noticeable now. His gaze quickly darted to Sam and then went back to her. “It’s all surface-level. A few pictures, some vague descriptions, it doesn’t mean anything.”

Her teasing expression softened at the shift in his tone. “Okay, fair. But isn’t that the point? It’s just supposed to be an icebreaker, right?”

“Maybe,” he muttered, leaning back in his seat. “But I’m not great at... small talk. And that’s all this is. Small talk that leads nowhere.”

Sam, who had been quietly watching, finally spoke up. “You’re not really helping her case, you know. You’re making this app sound like a deathtrap.”

Bucky shot him a glare. “It’s not a deathtrap. It’s just... not worth the hassle.”

She raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “Well, I won’t know until I try it. Maybe I’ll get luckier. How different could it really be once you meet in person, like a traditional meetup?”

Before Bucky could respond, Sam chimed in from a few seats over, a mischievous smirk on his face. “Well, you should also know that you might receive some... unwanted pictures.”

She tilted her head, frowning. “Unwanted pictures? Like what?”

“Dicks,” Sam deadpanned, his expression unflinching.

“What?” she exclaimed. “Why would someone... Is that supposed to attract me? Like they think, ‘Oh, I’ll send her a dick pic, and she’ll say, sure, John, let’s go feed the ducks at the park?’”

Sam doubled over laughing, while Bucky shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. “Yeah, uh... I forgot to mention the unwanted pictures,” he muttered.

She quirked a brow, and her lips twitched with amusement. “How is it for the guys? Did you get unwanted pictures too? Like, ‘Hey, handsome,’ and bam! Wet nipples pic?”

Bucky froze, his eyes widening slightly “I- what? No,” he stammered, his usual stoic mask cracking under her teasing.

Sam burst out laughing, leaning back in his seat. “Oh, man, you broke him.”

Bucky shot Sam a death glare, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “It’s not... That’s not how it works.”

“Oh, come on, someone must’ve tried.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, clearly wishing for the conversation to end. “No,” he said firmly. “Guys don’t get stuff like that. Not usually.”

Sam wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“Glad I could entertain you,” Bucky muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, fixing his gaze firmly on the floor.

Sensing his discomfort now that Sam had jumped into the conversation, she decided to redirect the attention. She leaned slightly toward Sam, with a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

“Speaking of unwanted pictures,” she said casually, “remember when that agent flashed us his brand-new Prince Albert in the Rome safehouse? Because he thought it was infected and wanted me to take care of it?”

Sam choked on his laughter. “Oh, man, that guy! How could I forget?” He shook his head, still grinning. “I got traumatized. The guy showed it off like he was proud of it. Even with the swelling and all. And you…you just stood there like it was any other Tuesday.”

She shrugged, her expression deadpan. “What was I supposed to do? He dropped his pants before I even knew what was happening. First of all, you might find it hard to believe, but it wasn’t the first time I’ve seen a dick, and second, I’ve seen worse things over the years.” if he only knew how much worse.

Bucky’s frown deepened, snapping his sharp gaze at her. His jaw tightened, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, something dark and protective. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, coldly.

She glanced at him, startled by the sudden shift in his demeanor. “What?”

“That guy,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Dropping his pants like that. You’re a lady, for God’s sake.”

Sam burst out laughing again, “I hate to break it to you, but modern life’s not exactly full of boundaries, Buck. Especially when the dude thought his dick was going to fall off.”

Bucky ignored Sam’s laughter. “Still doesn’t mean it’s right.”

His gaze drifted, growing distant, and she knew exactly where it was traveling. The countless times Hydra had forced her to touch him in clinical detachment, to treat his groin marred by shrapnel, burns, and other injuries she’d long since pushed to the darkest corners of her memory. Also, that time when…

She clapped her hands suddenly, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Anyway, about the app-”

“Wait,” Sam interrupted, leaning forward with interest. “About that, last time I talked to you, you said you were dating some dude from the library. Some kind of meet-cute.”

Bucky’s attention snapped back to the conversation, as a strange, twisted feeling settled in his gut.

“Clearly, if I’m asking about the app, I’m not seeing him anymore,” she replied, with a certain edge.

“What happened?” Sam pressed, furrowing his brow. “You seemed interested in the guy, and it sounded like he was into you, too.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “It just... didn’t work out.”

Sam gave her a pointed look. “That’s not a real answer.”

She groaned, leaning back in her seat. “Fine. Over the weeks, it was like everything he said he liked about me at first became an issue.”

“Like?” Sam prompted, tilting his head.

“Like preferring to stay home instead of going out all the time, it bored him. Or how he’d tell me he loved my cooking but would complain about his sweater smelling smoky after I’d make something. Little stuff like that.” She paused. “Then one day, I knit him a scarf. And do you know what he said?”

Sam raised a brow. “What?”

“He said, ‘I have a grandma who can do that,’” she said flatly.

Sam let out a sharp laugh of disbelief. “What a jackass.”

“Yeah,” she said with a humorless chuckle. “That was the last straw. Especially since he was the one who said he’d love it if I made something for him while flirting.”

“Oh my God, Sarah would’ve shoved the scarf through his ass, crochet hook included. And… uh did you two, you know…” Sam made a wave with his hand implying intimacy.

She couldn’t stop herself from briefly side-look at Bucky, who was staring at the ground. “No. I mean there was… but no. I don’t know, maybe that’s why suddenly everything started to annoy him.

Bucky felt a sharp surge of anger toward the faceless man. His fingers flexed against his thigh as he tried to push it down, but it stayed there. Sure, things had changed over the decades, he’d seen that much already. But memories of Rebecca knitting gloves for her sweetheart by the window, or his ma stitching clothes for them during the Depression, flooded his mind.

He knew what it meant to make something with your hands, the time, care, and thought behind every stitch. For that man to dismiss it like it was nothing, to compare her work to something anyone could do... it was a slap to everything he’d grown up valuing.

“That guy was an idiot,” he muttered, with irritation. “You took the time to make something for him, something personal. That matters. If he couldn’t see that, he wasn’t worth it.” The look on his face betrayed rage, the kind that made it clear he’d have no problem to physically teach the guy a lesson if he were standing in front of him.

She felt warmth rise in her chest at his words, “Thank you.”

Sam, who had been watching the exchange with growing amusement, leaned back in his seat with a knowing grin.

----

A couple of days had passed since they returned to New York, and she sat on her couch, biting her nails absently. The soft ticking of the wall clock felt louder than usual.

It was almost time for the doorbell to ring.

When they landed, Bucky had set her aside hesitantly and asked her if it was alright for them to talk. He’d made it clear that there was no pressure, no expectations. If she didn’t want to, he’d leave it alone. The last thing he wanted was to cause her discomfort.

She’d promptly agreed, “We can talk at my place if you are okay with that.” the offer had spilled from her lips before she could even think it through.

Her house was small but cozy, cluttered in a lived-in way. Books and plants filled old wooden shelves, the soft glow of a lamp in the corner painted the room in warm tones, and the faint scent of lavender lingered from a candle burning on the coffee table. She’d baked cookies and tidied up, in an unconscious effort to keep herself busy.

The doorbell finally rang, startling her.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she stood quickly, smoothing her hands over her shirt before heading to the door. When she opened it, there he was. Red henley, dark jeans, and a stuffed paper bag in his hand, standing on the threshold with a casual but guarded expression.

“Hi,” she managed to say, calmer than she felt.

“Hi,” he replied, nodding slightly before extending the bag toward her. “Um, for later. I figured it’d be rude to come empty-handed.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have” she said, clearly pleased, stepping aside while taking the bag, gesturing for him to come in. “Make yourself comfortable”.

Bucky hesitated momentarily before stepping inside, flicking his gaze briefly over the room. It felt... welcoming, familiar. He sat on the couch stiffly, resting his hands on his thighs.

She followed him, putting the paper bag on the coffee table and taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

“So,” she began, breaking the silence, “what did you want to talk about?”

His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he seemed to weigh his words carefully. “I just... wanted to say I’m sorry,”.

“For what?” she asked, puzzled.

“For everything,” he said, dropping his gaze to his hands. “For what Hydra put you through because of me. For being part of the reason you were stuck in that hell.”

Her breath caught, and she shook her head instinctively. “What- Bucky, you weren’t the reason-”

“I was,” he cut her off gently, lifting his eyes to meet hers again. “I might not have had a choice in what they did to me, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t pay the price for it.”

She swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not responsible for what they did.” she said softly. “Neither of us is.”

“Objectively I know,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel it is.”

The air between them felt heavy, charged with unspoken pain and understanding.

She sighed. “They abducted me because of my mutant powers, Bucky. They eventually assigned me to be your… maintenance tool because you were their most effective asset, Hydra’s fist. But even if you have not been there, there were others. For one reason or another, I would have ended up there anyway.”

The others.

******

Her words triggered memories he didn’t want but couldn’t avoid. The unending hours of hand-to-hand combat, training the newly enhanced assets. His missions didn’t end when he returned from the field; Hydra had repurposed him to mold their next generation of tools.

The rules had been clear: restrict his strength, take the blows, and avoid permanent damage. These trainees were expensive investments, after all, and he had the privilege of having his Tinkerbell next door to sprinkle some powder to fix him anew after every session.

Was in one of those travels to the neighboring cell when Soldat’s brain used the gray zones in the rules for the first time.

As he opened the heavy door, his gaze landed on the stretcher. She wasn’t alone. The asset bending her over the surface, fisting her hair, was making sure of it. His other hand fumbled, trying to place his excuse of a cock inside her, as she twisted helplessly beneath him.

His jaw ticked.

His fist connected with his target’s jaw in a blur of silver and crimson, sending him flying against the nearest wall with a sickening thud. The orders were to restrain himself while training. Her cell wasn’t meant as a place to train.

The asset groaned, attempting to push himself upright, but Soldat was already on him. In two long strides, he closed the distance, seizing the man’s throat with a crushing grip, lifting him up as if he weighed nothing. The asset’s eyes widened in panic as his legs kicked futilely against the air.

“Soldat!” a voice crackled through the speaker overhead. The handler’s voice.

He froze momentarily, loosening his grip just enough for the asset to suck in a ragged breath.

“Stand down,” the voice ordered, laced with the unmistakable threat of consequences.

His gaze flickered toward the camera in the corner of the room. He knew they were watching, assessing every move. But as he looked back at the asset, his grip tightened again.

She was still there, trembling against the stretcher, her wide, teary eyes locked on him. Her lip was split, and her arms were wrapped tightly around herself as though trying to hold her shattered pieces together.

A flicker of something broke through the red haze in his mind.

“Soldat,” the handler barked again, sharper this time. “Release him. Now.”

His hand twitched, and the hum of his arm vibrated faintly as if resisting the command. Slowly, deliberately, he dropped the man to the ground. The asset crumpled in a heap, coughing and clutching his throat.**

He walked toward the stretcher where she sat, frozen in place. Without a word, he leaned on the edge, reaching for the clasps of his upper vest and unfastening efficiently. The vest came off, revealing his beaten torso. His skin was mottled with bruises, and a sickly shade of purple spread across his ribs, the uneven swelling at the zone was a clear indication of fractures.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint static from the intercom and the asset’s wheezing on the floor.

He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze in a silent request. Her hands shook as she reached for him, steading when they met his skin.

“Soldat,” the handler’s voice snapped through the intercom. “Report back to the training room.”

He didn’t move. His gaze remained fixed on her, unwavering, unyielding. His hand twitched again, resting lightly on his thigh as though restraining himself from reaching out.

“I said, report back.”

******

“-cky… Bucky…” her voice broke the trance, bringing him back to the present.

He blinked, as his focus returned to the present. He saw her now, not trembling inside a depressing cell but sitting across from him in her living room, looking at him with concern.

“Sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. The words felt inadequate, but they were all he could manage at the moment.

She sighed, leaning back in her seat. “It seems we still have a lot of shit to unpack,” she finally said. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her shirt as she continued, flicking her gaze back to him. “For some reason, you feel responsible for my captivity, and on the other hand, I feel responsible for prolonging your torment.” Her lips quirked into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Maybe we need to do some couple’s counseling.”

The joke was light, silly, considering what they’ve been through. Still, Bucky’s lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile.

Grabbing onto that tiny smile like a lifeline, she seized the opportunity to steer the conversation toward something more pleasant. “So, what’s in the mystery bag you brought?”

His gaze flicked to the paper-wrapped goodies on the coffee table. “Some... pastries,” he admitted, almost self-conscious. “Figured you might invite me for some coffee.” He quirked a brow, the faint hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“It was my intention, yes,” she replied, leaning back in her seat, “Also, I might or might not have baked enough cookies to feed an army to go with it.”

“That so?” His smirk deepened slightly.

“Well, for starters I know your metabolism screams at you to inhale calories even in your sleep, and... I was kind of nervous before our meeting,” she confessed, almost murmuring toward the end.

He blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. “Nervous?” he echoed.

She shrugged, brushing an imaginary lint off her pants. “Yeah, nervous. I mean, it’s not every day you have a sit-down heart-to-heart with someone you...” She paused, searching for the right words. “...went through hell with.”

He didn’t respond immediately, fixing his gaze on her. Finally, he nodded, “I get it.”

For a moment, they sat in a silence that felt lighter than before, and then she clapped her hands lightly and rose from her seat.

“Well,” she said, “How about we see what kind of pastries you picked, and I’ll grab the cookies and make the coffee?

“Seems like a plan.” He agreed, standing and following her into the kitchen.

She grabbed a tray and began arranging the pastries he’d brought, their golden crusts promising a delicious treat. Beside them, she added a generous pile of cookies she’d baked earlier. The hum of the kettle heating the water filled the small space.

Bucky’s eyes drifted to the counter as she prepped. He hummed in appreciation when he realized she was setting up for brewed coffee, and the familiar sight of a pour-over filter caught his attention.

“Don’t like coffee makers,” she remarked, noticing his gaze. “Tastes like dirty water to me.”

He smirked faintly. “I couldn’t have expressed it better. There’s a machine for almost everything now, but some things...”

“...are better the old-fashioned way,” she finished, flashing him a small smile.

Bucky nodded toward the tray. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” she said, motioning to the cookies.

He reached for one, and before he realized it, his hand kept returning to the tray. They were warm, buttery, and just the right amount of sweet, a huge contrast to the food he’d grown accustomed to over the years.

“You bake like this often?” he asked between bites, in an almost casual tone.

“Not really,” she admitted with a chuckle, leaning against the counter. “I had a lot of nervous energy before today. Figured I might as well channel it into something productive.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “They’re good.”

She grinned. “Glad you approve.”

By the time the coffee was ready, most of the cookies were gone. She blinked at the near-empty tray and arched a brow at him.

“Seriously?” she teased, pouring two mugs of coffee. “I don’t think the cookies were supposed to be dinner.”

Bucky shrugged unapologetically, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Couldn’t stop. They’re better than anything I’ve had in a while.”

“Well, I’m taking that as a compliment,” she said, handing him a mug.

He took it, warming his hand with the cup. “It was.”

They settled at the small kitchen table, with the tray of pastries and the few remaining cookies between them. The conversation flowed easily, and their laughter mixed with the freshly brewed coffee aroma.

At some point, Bucky’s fingers tightened around his mug, lowering his gaze to its content. He hesitated for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line before he spoke. “When you asked me about the dating app the other day... how long... when did you feel you were ready to, you know…”

He trailed off, cursing himself inwardly for the clumsy phrasing and lack of subtlety.

She tilted her head, “Well, you mentioned it as a joke, and then I took the opportunity to ask since, you know, I was curious about them.” She chuckled lightly. “Not that my attempts at normal dating have been anything to brag about. As you heard on the plane... pretty pathetic.”

Bucky’s lips quirked briefly, but his eyes stayed on the coffee, waiting.

She shifted slightly in her chair, toying with the edge of her mug with her fingers. “As for being ready... I don’t know. It’s been a couple of years since I started feeling the... the need to have someone. Someone who’s more than just a friend.” She paused, and her gaze drifted somewhere far away, before returning to him. “But, honestly, the world changed so much. Dating now is... different. Messy.” She offered a faint smile, “Well if it feels like that for me, I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. You probably grew up around my daddy’s time.”

Bucky’s head shot up, quirking his brow in mock indignation. “Your dad’s time?”

She grinned, catching the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You were probably handing out love letters, not even using a phone.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Hey, we weren’t that old-fashioned.” He paused, “But... yeah. It was different.”

“Guess that’s one thing we have in common,” she said softly. “Figuring out where we fit in a world that’s... moved on without us.”

He looked at her then, somehow the weight of her words made him feel less alone in his own struggle.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess we do.”

Gathering her courage, she nodded toward his vibranium hand, “Can I see it? Properly, I mean.”

His body tensed for a fraction of a second, but he saw genuine interest in her eyes. Slowly, he lifted his arm, extending the sleek prosthetic toward her.

She reached for it with both hands, brushing her fingers trough the cool, polished surface. His gaze widened slightly as she turned it gently in her grasp.

“Wow,” she murmured, running her fingertips along the ridges and smooth joints. “The fingers are less edgy than the old one.” She traced a line along his palm. “How’s the sensory feedback?”

Her question startled him out of his momentary daze, and he cleared his throat. Her touch was making harder to stay composed than he wanted to admit. “neuro-connections are more advanced,” he began, in an almost clinical tone. “So I have better control over it. I can feel pressure and temperature more accurately. But that’s... all.”

Her thumbs brushed over the pads of his fingers, “That’s a lot, though,” she said quietly. “It’s incredible. Do you ever... forget it’s not flesh and bone?”

His lips twitched faintly, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Until I catch someone staring at it. Or...” His gaze dropped to her hands, still cradling his. “Until someone touches it. And I remember it’s not real.”

Her grip tightened slightly, an unconscious response. “It is real, Bucky,” she said firmly, lifting her eyes to his. “It’s you.”

“Thanks,” he said after a long pause.

Noticing that she still hadn’t released his hand, she let go quickly, feeling her cheeks warming under his stare. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

He shook his head lightly. “It’s fine,” he muttered.

She grabbed a pastry from the tray and took a bite to occupy herself. The silence lingered before she worked up the courage to ask, tentative but curious. “So... when did you feel ready to date and try the apps and stuff?”

He stiffened almost imperceptibly.

“You asked me,” she deadpanned as she gestured toward him with a half-eaten bun. “Fair if I get to ask you the same.”

He sighed, brushing his fingers over his temple as he scratched it absently. “I don’t think...” He trailed off, then started again. “Last year, my therapist suggested I start stepping out of my comfort zone. Told me it’d help with... things. So... I tried.”

“And?” she prompted, leaning slightly forward, encouraging but not pushing.

His gaze dropped to the table. “I’d be lying if I said it’s been great.”

She remained silent, giving him space to continue.

“It’s just...” He hesitated, his hand curling into a loose fist on the table. “Meeting new people it’s hard. Small talk feels fake, like I’m watching it happen instead of being part of it. There’s this constant voice in my head, reminding me of all the things I can’t tell them. All the stuff I can’t explain. I look at someone across a table, and they’re smiling, talking about their favorite movies or where they want to go on vacation. And all I can think about is how much they don’t know. How much they can’t know.” He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “That I’ve done things... that I’ve had things done to me. And if they ever found out, they’d run away.”

She set her pastry down quietly, folding her hands in her lap as she listened, letting him talk, suspecting he probably hadn’t spoken this much in years.

“And then there’s the other stuff,” he continued, lower now. “The touch. Sometimes, even a handshake feels wrong. Too close, too much. I can’t control how my brain reacts. Sometimes I flinch, or freeze. And how do you explain that to someone on a second date?”

“Yeah. Touching can be... hard if you’re not familiar enough with the person,” she murmured, dropping her gaze to the table.

They both understood why.

The silence stretched. He didn’t need to ask what she meant, and she didn’t need to elaborate. Hydra had ensured they both carried scars that made even the simplest gestures of connection fraught with hesitation.

She straightened in her seat, trying to shake off the heavy mood. “You know,” she said, with a faint edge of humor creeping into her tone, “for a conversation about dating, this has turned into a pretty depressing therapy session.”

He seemed to hesitate, curling his fingers slightly around his mug before he spoke. “It’s not like that with you.”

Her brow furrowed. “Uh?”

“Touching,” he clarified, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were confessing something. “Those days in Poland... I noticed.”

“Oh,” she said softly, as her fingers brushed the edge of her cup while her gaze flickered to him.

He looked down at his hands, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “I’ve been... thinking about it. And the only reason I can come up with is... because you were the only ‘good’ thing in that hellhole.”

She stared at him, unsure how to respond. Then she shook her head slowly. “After everything Hydra made me do to you, how can you feel-”

His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and unyielding. “I don’t blame you,” he cut her firmly. “I’ve told you that.”

She bit her lip, afraid to ask. “But... how much do you remember about-”

“Everything,” he said quietly.

She inhaled sharply, tightening her fingers around the mug and locked her eyes onto his. “E-even...”

“Everything, doll,” he said again, softer now.

She swallowed hard. “I see. And still...”

“Don’t blame you,” he repeated, resolute, as though daring her to argue.

******

It had been two days since they’d injected him with that burning substance, two days of his body rebelling against him in the most excruciating way. The unrelenting ache of the forced erection was a constant, painful thrum, and despite his silence, the slight tremor in his movements betrayed the toll it was taking.

At first, the staff had dismissed it as a side effect of the experiment. But as the hours stretched into days, and Soldat’s body refused to yield, it became clear that something had to be done.

The traditional methods failed. They’d barked orders for him to “take care of it himself,” but he stood motionless and unresponsive. They had thrown him into freezing water, and his body had trembled violently, but the condition persisted. Even a brutal beating did nothing to break the cycle.

Finally, they summoned her.

She’d entered the sterile room, and her stomach churned. He was shirtless, his skin flushed an unnatural shade, and though his expression remained stoic, she could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled slightly at his sides.

“You,” the handler barked, gesturing toward him. “Fix the inconvenience.”

Her heart sank. She swallowed thickly, forcing herself to remain composed. “But... he’s not injured, sir. I don’t-”

The sharp crack of a slap cut her off, her head snapping to the side as pain bloomed across her cheek.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, pet,” the handler sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

She bit down on her lip, as she nodded numbly. “Yes, sir.”

Approaching him hesitantly, she reached out and hovered her trembling hand over his overheated skin. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move, just stared ahead, his blue gaze void of anything human.

Tentatively, she placed her hand against his chest, and noticed the heat radiating off his body was almost unbearable. Closing her eyes, she tried to infuse him with her healing surge, willing it to work, to cool the fire that was consuming him.

Nothing.

She retracted her hand, “It’s no use, sir,” she excused herself in a whisper.

“Try harder,” he snarled, sharply.

Before she could react, he grabbed her trembling hand and shoved it between Soldat’s legs. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. He remained still, his lifeless gaze kept fixed on the far wall, as though none of this was happening.

Slowly, reluctantly, she wrapped her hand around him -or tried to-, her fingers barely circling his length. Her heart pounded in her ears as she forced herself to send another wave of her healing surge through her palm.

Nothing.

“S-sir, it’s not...” she stammered, withdrawing slightly.

“Try a different approach,” the handler barked, his patience wearing thin.

Her stomach twisted painfully. “B-but...”

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen a cock in your entire life, slut,” the handler spat with malice. “We both know very well that’s not the case.”

Shame and rage bloomed inside her chest, but she didn’t dare meet his eyes.

The handler’s cruel smile widened, and his next words were laced with venom. “Jerk him off.”

Her body froze. She stared down at her hand, still trembling against the Soldat’s unmoving form.

When she didn’t move, the man stepped closer. “Do you prefer if I order him to fuck your brains out?” he sneered. “I’m pretty sure he’d gladly comply. His fried brain probably can’t even remember the last time he did it.”

The Soldat’s jaw ticked imperceptibly at the words, a flicker of something passing through his otherwise blank expression. A muscle in his temple twitched, so slightly it was almost imperceptible, but she noticed.

“Do it,” the handler barked, his tone icy. “Now.”

Slowly, she shifted her gaze to the side, staring at the far wall to avoid looking at him, at either of them. Her hand trembled as she reached out, brushing against the overheated skin of his abdomen before curling around him again.

The Soldat kept being unresponsive.

Her fingers tightened slightly around him, and she began to move her hand in a clinical and detached way, trying to retreat her mind to a faraway place.

The handler leaned against the counter, and his smug smile made her sick. “See? Was that so hard, pet?”

She didn’t respond, focusing instead on keeping her breathing steady. Soldat remained as a statue, with his gaze fixed straight ahead. But she saw it again, the faintest twitch of his fingers, a subtle clenching of his jaw.

Was it anger? Pleasure? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t afford to dwell on it. She tried to focus on the rhythm of her movements, the hum of the fluorescent lights above, anything to drown out the humiliation.

“Good girl,” the man praised her mockingly.

At some point, the Soldat’s breath hitched slightly, a small, involuntary response. She froze for a fraction of a second, before forcing herself to continue.

The handler’s gaze was fixed on her with sadistic amusement. “See? The horny dog is starting to stir,” he sneered, chuckling darkly. “Keep going, pet. Put some effort into it.”

She kept going, trying to block out the handler’s taunts and the oppressive heat radiating from Soldat’s body.

“I can’t wait to see how this ends,” He stepped closer, and his boots clicked against the sterile floor as his shadow loomed over her. She could feel his cruel satisfaction like a physical weight pressing down on her.

He smirked, tilting his head as if studying a piece of art. “It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? The indomitable Winter Soldier reduced to this.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “And you, pet... always so eager to fix him.

Her hand faltered for the briefest moment, and the handler’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t stop,” he hissed, sharply.

Her fingers resumed their mechanical rhythm, trembling slightly as they moved over the heated skin.

Soldat’s body betrayed him, starting to respond to her ministrations. His chest rose and fell slightly faster, and the faintest sheen of sweat formed along his collarbone. A muscle in his jaw ticked again, and his metal hand twitched at his side, the slightest flex of his fingers betraying the struggle beneath the surface.

She noticed every subtle reaction, every unwilling signal his body sent. It felt like a cruel mockery, this was not a man choosing to respond, but a body manipulated and prodded to betray its instincts.

The handler’s smirk widened as he circled them, amused. “See? The body don’t lie, pet. No matter how much you both fight it, nature always wins.”

Soldat’s breaths were growing more uneven, and his nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell with increasing urgency. For a moment, his steel-blue gaze flicked down to her hand, a fleeting acknowledgment before snapping forward again, returning to the blank void.

The handler leaned against the counter again, crossing his arms, watching with sick satisfaction. “He’s close, isn’t he? Just look at him.”

Soldat’s fingers twitched again, curling slightly into a loose fist. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, a small, involuntary moan escaping his lips. Barely audible but deafening in the oppressive silence of the room.

The handler laughed, cruelly. “There it is,” he sneered, clapping his hands mockingly. “Hydra’s fist reduced to nothing more than a desperate animal. Guess even the strongest aren’t immune to a good touch. Keep going, pet,” he ordered. “We’re almost there.”

Soldat’s gaze flicked down to her hand again, and the faintest flicker of something passed through his otherwise blank expression. Another quiet moan slipped out, broken and involuntary, while his body tensed beneath her touch, and the muscles in his abdomen started to tighten,

The handler licked his lips as his gaze kept glued to the scene before him. “Almost there, loyal pet. Finish it.”

Soldat’s breaths hitched again, and his body betrayed him further as his head tilted back slightly, exposing the vulnerable line of his throat. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin glinted under the sterile light, and every detail etched into her mind despite her desperate attempts to detach herself.

And then it happened.

His body went rigid, his metal hand clenched into a fist, so tight it trembled at his side. His breath hitched, and a low, guttural sound tore from his throat, a mixture of release and anguish that echoed in the sterile room.

She froze, retreating her hand almost immediately as though burned. Her chest heaved with shallow, shaky breaths as she stumbled back a step.

Soldat’s body sagged slightly, and his head dropped forward, while his breathing started to slow down, bleeding the tension out of his system. He didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge the handler either, his gaze fixed again somewhere distant,  unreachable.

The handler clapped, grinning wide and cruelly again. “There you go, pet. Good job. I knew you had it in you.”

Her hands clutched at her sides, biting her nails into her palms as she forced herself to stand still, to remain composed even as her world felt like it was shattering.

Sensing her discomfort, he kept his smirk firmly in place. “Now clean yourself up” he said coldly. “You look like cheap whore.”

Then he turned around. “You, take him to cryo,” he lazily ordered to the guards who had been standing silently by the door. “He’s done for now.”

******

“I know what it’s like to not have a choice,” he said simply, “I know what it’s like to be used, controlled, forced into something you’d never choose for yourself.”

Her gaze dropped to the table.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “I’m no saint. I’ve hated a lot of people, doll. Hated myself more than I can say. But you? Not once. You were there, real and raw. And, maybe, is because of that that I trust you.”

She stared at him, and her hands twitched on the table, wanting to reach out, to bridge the gap between them. But instead, she sat there with her heart pounding.

“Bucky, I-”  her voice faltered. The weight of his admission was almost too much for her to bear.

The way he looked at her then, open and bare, broke whatever restrain was keeping her still.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She stood abruptly, scraping the chair against the floor, and rounded the small table.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He didn’t flinch. Slowly, his arms came up to encircle her waist cautiously, as though afraid he might break her. She pressed her cheek against the crown of his head and put her hands around his broad shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his hair.

She felt him shift slightly, dipping his head lower until his forehead rested lightly against her shoulder. His breath was warm against the side of her neck, and the subtle weight of his body leaning into her made her heart ache.

“For what?” he murmured.

“For not hating me.”

Next chapter

Taglist: @sunshinedayz19 @star-maker-rain-dancer @tumdlrnewb84 @mgchaser @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @gotminho @kaitlin013106 @startorrent @idontknowhowtonormal @mattmurdock42 @hnnhbananananana @aeriss-at-heart45 @jainaeatsstars @airixaram @seventeen-x @jaxz21 @zizzlekwum @hi172826 @valckenaux

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

[doumadono]

Katsuki and Reader as Academic rivals/enemies during their college years but is actually messing around behind close doors. For sinful sunday!!<3

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, fem!reader, rough oral (f receiving), fingering, pro hero Bakugo

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

"You're late," Bakugo growls, his voice edged with impatience as he glares at you from the doorway.

You smirk, brushing past him. "Didn't know the great Dynamight had a bedtime like a preschooler."

"Shut up," he snaps as he closes the door behind you. "You know I don't like waiting."

"And yet here we are," you retort, throwing your bag on his couch with a casual toss. 

The apartment is spacious, minimalist in its decor, with a few hints of Bakugo's personality — trophies from his hero work, a stack of fitness magazines, and a well-worn punching bag in the corner.

"Still can't believe we're doing this," he mutters, following you into the living room.

"Which part?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "The studying, or the fact that we're doing it together?"

Bakugo's scowl deepens. "Both."

You laugh, settling into the couch and pulling out your notes. "Just like old times, huh? Except now we're not stuck in that cramped library."

He huffs, flopping down beside you. "Yeah, but you still haven't gotten any less annoying."

"And you haven't gotten any less competitive," you shoot back, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, the same one that always flared when the two of you clashed in college. 

You and Bakugo had been academic rivals since your first year at UA High School. Both fiercely competitive and driven, you clashed in every class, constantly trying to outdo each other in hero training exercises and exams. The rivalry continued into college, where you found yourselves in the same courses, your mutual determination pushing you to excel. 

Despite the animosity, there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a spark that neither of you acknowledged but both felt deeply. 

Now, years later, with Bakugo as a top Pro Hero and you excelling in your own career, the competitive fire still burns. Especially when the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight fails yet another mandatory training session assigned to him by the Hero Commission.

Bakugo grabs a stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours accidentally. 

The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

"So, where were we?" he asks, his voice a little rougher.

"Here," you say, pointing to a highlighted section. "The analysis of hero efficiency metrics. You were going to show me how you applied it to your latest mission."

He nods, leaning closer. The heat from his body is distracting, and you find it hard to concentrate as he explains the data. His voice is low, the words rolling over you as you watch the way his lips move, the intensity in his eyes.

"...and that's how I optimized the response time," he finishes, looking up at you expectantly.

You blink, realizing you've barely absorbed a word. "Right. Makes sense."

He narrows his eyes. "You're not even listening, are ya, Y/N?"

"I am!" you protest, but he doesn't buy it.

"Prove it," he challenges, leaning even closer. "Explain it back to me."

Your mind races, trying to piece together what he said, but all you can think about is how close he is, the smell of his cologne, the way his breath brushes against your skin. "I, um..."

His smirk is infuriating. "Thought so, smartass."

"You're impossible," you mutter, but there's no heat in your words.

"And you're distracted," he counters. "Wonder why that is."

You glare at him, but he's right. "Maybe it's because you're in my personal space," you say, but even as you say it, you don't move away.

"Maybe you like it," he shoots back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that's more a battle than a caress. It's messy, desperate, and full of the same fire that always ignited when you were around each other.

Bakugo responds instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, it's everything you've been denying yourself for years. 

You break apart, both of you breathing hard. "This doesn't change anything," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. "No, it doesn't. But it sure as hell makes things more interesting."

You laugh, a breathless sound that turns into a moan as he captures your mouth again. 

This time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss is fierce, and you can feel the same hunger in him that burns in you.

Bakugo pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming your back as he presses you closer. The feel of his hard muscles against you, the heat of his skin, it's all intoxicating. 

You grind against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat.

"God, you're so fucking impatient," he mutters against your lips, but his hands are gentle as they slip under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath.

"You love it," you tease, arching into his touch.

"Maybe I do," he admits, his voice rough with desire. "But don't think this means you've won."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you reply, your hands busy unbuttoning his shirt. 

His shirt comes off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, neither of you willing to break the kiss for more than a few seconds.  

You trail kisses down his neck, savoring the way he shudders beneath you.

Bakugo flips you onto your back, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks down at you. "You're still a pain in my ass," he growls. His body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him a delicious reminder of his strength and power. 

You feel his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His mouth is on you instantly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the swell of your breasts.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. 

You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as you hold him close. 

He groans in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

You can feel yourself growing wetter.

"Fuck," he mutters, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and moving to the other one. His free hand roams lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With a rough tug, he pulls them down.

“Bakugo,” you basically growl at him, demanding his attention.

"Patience," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Good things come to those who wait."

But you're beyond waiting. You need him now. You reach down and grab his hand, guiding it to where you're aching for him - right between the thighs you willingly part just for him.

Bakugo's fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties, watching as your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Do you like that, baby?" he growls in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to rub you through the thin fabric. You’re so wet already, he can feel it seeping through your panties and onto his fingers.

Bakugo grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your parted legs. 

You lift your hips to help him, and soon you’re lying naked before him.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out on the couch like a feast. Your skin is soft and smooth, your breasts are full and round, and your pussy is glistening with wetness, just for him.

His fingers slip inside you easily. You’re oh so tight, he can feel your muscles clenching around his digits as he moves them in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praises, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes, just like that."

Bakugo's fingers curl inside you, hitting all the right spots. 

You can feel yourself already getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke. And then, just as you think you can't take it any longer, he stops.

You whimper in protest, but he just smirks. 

"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you first."

Before you can react, he's sliding down your body, his mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. 

You moan as he kisses and licks his way closer to your mound, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

And then, finally, his tongue is on your clit, teasing and flicking in a way that makes your whole body shudder. You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the slick slide of his tongue. It's obscene and you can't get enough of it. You buck your hips, grinding against his face as he devours you.

"Oh god, Bakugo," you moan, your voice hoarse. "I'm going to come."

He just hums in response, his tongue working harder, faster. He uses his thumb to roll your clitty in a circle, pushing the upper portion of your outer lips aside. As Bakugo plays with your little, swollen pearl, your lower lips begin to glisten, then open, and after a longer moment of playing while your breathing quickens, a thin string of crystalized dew falls from your juicy pink slit.

“Just like that, just like that!” you are a moaning mess beneath him.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls lowly, watching your body writhe, feeling the intense strain as his sweatpants become painfully tight. Bakugo doesn't stop, though. He keeps licking and sucking. He licks up through your soft folds like a dog, lapping at your cunny juices as if his life depends on it. He then curls and straightens his calloused fingers several times, petting the underside of your mound from within. “Cum for me, I wanna see you cumming hard for me,” Bakugo commands.

Your clit throbs in his mouth as he sucks the little pearl in, finger-fucking your slick, drenched pussy.

A high pitched whimper cuts off your words. Your stomach heaves, your ass shakes, and you feed Bakugo your muff with a sexy, up and down grinding motion that runs your pussy all over his slightly unshaven face. You tighten your grip on his ash-blonde hair and pull him against your pussy, mashing your clit between his tongue and your own pubic bone.

Finally, Katsuki pulls away, his face glistening with your juices.

"Fuck," you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "That was incredible."

Bakugo just grins, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome," he says. Bakugo licks and kisses his way up your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply before pulling back. "You know this doesn't mean I'm ever going to go easy on you," he says, grinding his crotch against your slick folds.

The unmistakable hardness pressing against you is making you acutely aware of how hard he is — how hard you've made him just with your moans and pussy.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Yeah, I know. But quit this shit now and fuck me like I know you've always wanted to."

[whoskimii]

omg loved your gojo makeout piece could you please write one for yuuji

thank you baby!! of course, here you go :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > yuuji x you. note that all characters are aged up!! steamy makeout sesh with your bf <33 tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

yuuji missed you. of course he did. how couldn't he ? between his missions and yours, you both got less time to spend with each other. as much as you hated it.

you knew you had no choice but to follow orders whenever your bubbly teacher would interrupt your little moment of peace to tell you that you had yet another mission. it was honestly tiring.

whenever you had a mission, yuuji had free time. and whenever yuuji had a mission, you had free time. it was like an endless cycle. the circle was just repeating itself, over and over again.

so when you both had free time at the same time, your heart leapt out of joy.

that also explained why you found yourself in your boyfriend's dorm. yuuji was on top of you, his hand buried in your baby pink panties as your pretty manicured fingers tangled in his disheveled strands.

he caressed your needy little clit with the pad of his middle finger as you whined sweetly against his lips. when he pulled his hand out of your underwear, he connected his finger with his thumb and slowly stretched the little sticky string of transparent fluid and watched shamelessly. he couldn't believe just how wet you were.

"shit," he cursed under his breath. "you get like this 'cause of me...? i'm a lucky bastard." he grinned lazily before his lips crashed onto yours. you hummed into the kiss and he smiled, his hand wrapping around your waist while the other grabbed a handful of your ass.

he sighed and rested his forehead against yours. his heart was beating like crazy and his cock was throbbing in his pants. to relieve himself, he began grinding against you. he sneaked a hand around your thigh and hooked it over his hip to pull you impossibly closer. "i need you, yuuji..." you mumbled.

he absolutely loved the way you said his name. it would always roll off your tongue like honey. he didn't care about the circumstances— the way you called out his name, the way you breathed it and moaned it, it would always make him shiver.

"yeah, i know... i know, i need you too, baby..." he breathed. he wished he could just fill you up right there and then but he feared that megumi would complain in the morning. again. poor baby didn't sleep much when you were around :( "i promise, sweet girl... i'll take care of you... wanna stuff you nice and full but we aren't alone..."

at your little disappointed whine, he sighed. his heart almost ached. "i know, baby, i know... s'fine. i'm still gonna take care of you." you bit on your bottom lip as he pressed the tip of his finger against your sloppy entrance. "gotta be quiet, cupcake." he slowly slid his digit inside you, all the while covering your mouth with his hand.

as his finger finally bottomed out, he hummed approvingly. "aaaand... s'all the way in, baby." he pushed it in and out lazily, watching your pretty eyes flutter close. "feels nice, huh ? yeah..." he chuckled. "bet it makes you feel all warm and tingly inside."

as you clenched around his digit, he sighed. he just wished that he could bury himself between your legs right now but if the sleep of his grumpy friend was disturbed, yuuji would never see the end of it.

he hummed. "c'mon, baby. don't take too long, okay ? i wanna get spoiled too." you whined. "yuuji..."

"yeah ? somethin' you wanna say, sweetie ?" he asked cockily. "wanna cum..." you mumbled. "i know." he finally found your sweet spot and it only took you a few other thrusts to come. "aw, you came ? already ? shit, i can't believe it." he slowly pulled out his digit, which was now coated in your sweet essence. "mind if i get a taste, baby ?"

you would never deny him his favorite drink, would you ?

yuuji is such a sweetheart like???

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[luvst4rc0r3]

HIII

I READ YOUR TIMEBOMB×GN!READER FFIC

AND I JUST WANNA SAY THAT I FOUND THAT AMAZING

ALSO

CAN YOU MAYBE WRITE MORE TIMEBOMB×GN!READER FFICS

LIKE MAYBE SOME SMUT OR SUGGESTIVE

I'D LOVE TO READ THAT

ANYWHO TYSM! I LOVE YOUR FFICS SM!

GUYS I AM NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT FICS BUT I CAN END FICS OFF WITH A SUGGESTIVE TONE😭😭

ALSO TYYY❤️❤️‼️‼️‼️

“Time and Chaos”

Timebomb x GN!Reader

WARNINGS: suggestive at the end

WC:628

NOTE: Reader is alr in an established relationship w/ Ekko

The air in Zaun’s undercity was electric tonight, a buzzing charge that seemed to mirror the tension hanging between the three of you. You sat cross-legged on the floor of Ekko’s hideout, the dim light of his many gadgets casting long shadows across the room. Jinx perched on a nearby table, swinging her legs like a child, while Ekko leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he watched her with his usual wary intensity.

The night had started with an explosion—literally. Jinx had crashed another Firelight mission, her maniacal laughter ringing out as her bombs scattered Ekko’s carefully planned operation into chaos. It wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was that after the dust settled, she didn’t disappear. She followed you and Ekko back to the hideout like a stray cat, her mischievous grin unshakable.

Now, the three of you sat in uneasy camaraderie, caught somewhere between rivalry and…sexual tension.

“You’re no fun, Ekko,” Jinx teased, twirling one of her braids around her finger. “Always so serious. Lighten up!”

Ekko’s eyes narrowed, but there was no real heat in his voice when he replied. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to be serious if you didn’t blow up half the city every other day, Powder.”

The name made her flinch, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before she masked it with a wild grin. “Careful, Clockstopper,” she said sweetly, hopping off the table. “I might think you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Do you two ever stop bickering?”

Both of them turned to look at you, and for a moment, you felt the full weight of their gazes—Ekko’s sharp and thoughtful, Jinx’s chaotic and unrelenting.

“Only when you make us,” Jinx said with a smirk, sauntering over to you. She crouched in front of you, her blue eyes scanning your face with unnerving intensity. Her hands were near your inner thighs, “You’re fun. Why don’t you ditch Mr. Buzzkill and come play with me instead?”

“Jinx,” Ekko warned, stepping closer.

“What?” she said innocently, tilting her head. “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. They’re the only reason we’re not killing each other right now.” She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your jaw, and you felt your breath hitch. “They’re so… calming. Don’t you think, Ekko?”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. You boyfriend’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just enough for you to see the warmth underneath. “Yeah,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “They are.”

The air in the room shifted, heavy with something unspoken. Tension that could be broken with a kiss. Jinx leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “See? Even Time Boy agrees. Maybe we should keep you all to ourselves.”

You laughed nervously, trying to hide your insane blushing. “You two are impossible.”

“Maybe,” Ekko said, kneeling beside you now. His voice was low, his eyes locking onto yours. “But you’re the only one who makes it worth it.”

Jinx’s grin widened, and she draped herself over your shoulder, her breath warm against your ear. “Guess you’re stuck with us, huh?”

You swallowed hard, the proximity of both of them making your pulse race. There was no escape from the intensity of their presence—Ekko’s steady strength and Jinx’s wild energy, both pulling you in opposite directions yet somehow keeping you perfectly balanced in the middle.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I am.”

Jinx giggled, her fingers brushing against your arm. “Good answer.”

Ekko smirked, his hand coming to rest lightly on your chest. “We’ll take care of you,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Both of us.”

HIII ERM I USUALLY DONT WRITE FICS LIKE THIS BC IM BAD AT WRITING STUFF LIKE THIS😭😭

I want sleep

[oatmealwrites]

A Night To... Forget? Ch. 2

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! Reader

Part 1 | Part 2!

(Notes: Jackson Wang is a side character LMAO [ i needed a non-pro hero buddy for reader.]

Slow burn for sure but there's some tension brewing ~~ (smut soon to follow)

Tags: jealous aizawa, mentions of masturbation, mentions of alcohol, hopeless pining by both reader and aizawa, drunken flirting, slowww burn, some established history between aizawa and reader, reader is in their early/mid 20s, aizawa POV at end(mainly SFW, but NSFW next chap most likely)

Word Count: 5.9k

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WARNING: jackson wang is a character LMAO

It’s impossible to focus. You’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your law textbook for 15 minutes now, trying your best to ignore the steady pounding in your skull. When you initially arrived, 20 minutes late, the two friends waiting at the reserved table gave you an immediate look of pity; hair unwashed, sunglasses on, and a matching sweatsuit from the university merchandise clearance rack. Your usual hangover uniform.

You peel your eyes off the textbook and reach for your water bottle, silently wondering how long you had to wait in between pain killer dosages. For your own sanity, your cellphone is on silent and tucked in the very bottom of your backpack, which is also placed under your chair.

God this is impossible.

Keigo was absolutely NO help this morning. After the initial panic of not being able to recall anything beyond being let in by the bouncer and then seeing the message from Aizawa, the both of you stopped breathing. At first, you both just stared at the message, ignoring the sluggishness of the acute alcohol poisoning, before Keigo snatched your phone and took off to the other side of the couch.

“Give it back asshole!”

“No way!” Keigo moves around the couch to mirror your efforts, one hand pointing at you with the other holding the phone “You would send something dumb back, I would actually help you get in his pants.”

You shuffle from one side to the other, making a few dives to reach your phone, but falling short.

“What if I just want to get to know him first? Huh?”

Keigo begins typing something and your efforts get more desperate, “You already kinda know him and he sucks, trust me - just get it out of your system and get over him.” “You don’t know that! You barely work any cases with him!”

Keigo ignores you and continues drafting something, with one last effort you climb over the arm of the couch and jump onto his arm. The phone is squished between you both as the two of you begin wrestling over the furniture.

“I’m helping-”

“No, you’re just gonna fuck it up!”

PING!

The two of you stop short, your first holding his hair and his arm in a half-headlock around your neck; your phone glows on the floor with the screen ‘message sent’. Silently, both you and Keigo step off the couch and crouch down.

To: Aizawa Shouta

FeliN-g a litL3e uder the weather Hoe about u?

Mybe wwe shold me5t up n recoverr?

Your leg is bouncing up and down in anxious energy and you resign to leaning back in your chair and looking around the library. That fucking idiot.

It’s the only thing you can think about, that stupid message and the fact you will NEVER be able to forget it until you die. After Keigo accidentally sent it, you both spent the next 20 minutes arguing, trying to unsend it, and then arguing some more; eventually you shut it off, kicked him out, and ran to the library in an attempt to salvage your scheduled study time.

Can’t the world just swallow me whole? Seeing Keigo beat up after a mission would be nice too.

You sigh and turn back to your book, fiddling with the edges of the paper and resting the fat of your cheek in your hand. The words are boring and unimportant, and in this moment you’re beyond grateful for your quirk. Concentrating a little bit, you scan the page line by line, committing each phrase to memory for use later.

The library is mainly empty on this level, the loft overlooking the main floor and entrance doors. Some students come in and out; most are carrying coffees and are dressed for an early morning cram session on a Saturday, forgoing social events for upcoming exams.

You have your own finals coming up alongside several new cases your externship mentor has set aside for you. At least a dozen new case files had been forwarded to you overnight, a few requiring you to stop by UA and speak with the heroes who were involved with the villain’s arrest.

“You look more hungover than usual. You’ve barely finished the first chapter...”

You look over to your friend on the right side, Dru, she doesn’t even look up from her book while she speaks, too focused on getting the material down.

A slight rumble emits from your stomach and you fidget in your seat, “Yea I’m just hungry and… can’t think straight.”

She hums and continues reading, the conversation could end there but the anxiety of the situation makes you wanna yap.

“I may have also sent a drunk…? No, just a very poorly worded text to a guy..”

The words get quieter and you sink into your seat as you talk, though the sentence is enough to make both of them look up from their books and stare at you.

“Huh?” They say in unison.

“Who?”

“What did you say?”

“This morning or did you send it last night?”

“Is he cute?”

You lean forward onto the table and rub your eyes under your sunglasses and sigh, “My coworker. It was a very poorly misspelled text asking to meet up. Sent it this morning. And uhh..” your cheeks burn from under your hands, “yea..”

The two look at each other and then turn to you, forgetting the material in front of them and demanding to know more. Dru leans in, “Ok come on, you have to show us.”

Jackson, the friend on the left, leans in and pushes his textbook back, “Where did you even get drunk? I didn’t throw a party yesterday.”

You keep your head in your hands and refuse to look up for a moment, now staring at the mess of words underneath your elbows, “It was after yesterday’s sentencing, Keigo dragged me out.”

They both wince and Jackson shakes his head, “Now your outfit makes even more sense.

I don't know anyone who can survive his drinking games without getting shitfaced.”

You sigh and look off into space, resting your chin in your hands and silently wondering if this could all just be a sick dream and you’ll wake up back in bed. Dru, who’s been silent for a moment, traces her jaw with her finger absentmindedly in thought.

“Well you said no one leaves his game without getting fucked up?”

Jackson whines and rolls his eyes, “Yea, it’s fun in the moment but a total headache the day after,” he rests his hand on your shoulder, “stay strong.”

She stops mid trace and looks at you, “Well did this guy you texted play too? That would mean there’s a chance he also doesn’t remember last night.”

Your eyes widen and both you and Jackson look at her in awe, the tension on your shoulders feeling just a little lighter.

“You’re right!”

“You’re a genius!”

She smiles and shrugs, “Well I suppose it doesn’t really help the issue of the text you sent though.”

The smile from your lip fades and you shrug forward again, your hands now picking at the loose frays of the crew neck sleeves. Jackson turns between both of you and offers an apologetic smile before pulling his textbook back closer to him.

Dru follows suit and flattens the page of her book before adjusting the ponytail of her hair to remain out of her face, “Just explain the misunderstanding in person and don’t bother opening your phone. You’re both adults, it shouldn’t be too weird.”

You sigh as the task-oriented lawyer-prepping version of your friends creeps back over them and studying for the upcoming final takes priority from your shitty love life. The group is silent now and you dejectedly flip the page of the book and scan the first few lines, silently counting down the next 246 pages you have to complete.

*******

The air outside is cold and the sun is still annoyingly bright when you all break from the exam review session. Nearing 1pm the campus is livelier, but still quieter on the weekend than it usually is in between classes. Your backpack is heavy and the straps dig into your shoulders with uncomfortable force; 2 textbooks, a laptop, pencil case, notebooks, wallet, and filled metal water bottle create an awkward weight.

“Ok, let’s resume at 3:30? I gotta run back to my apartment and grab the next textbook.”

Dru nods at Jackson and stretches from side to side, “Yea, I think I might take a nap.”

You look between the two of them and before you can mumble a phrase a pair of boots approaching cuts you off promptly, “Geez there you are. I’ve been calling you all morning.”

Spinning around you immediately look eyes with Keigo and notice the fact he’s completely not beat up before raising an eyebrow at his hero uniform. He saunters up as if he was just as close with your friends as you were and nonchalantly pulls out his phone to review his unanswered calls, not bothering to look up.

“13 missed calls, seriously, I was beginning to wonder if I needed to ditch parole to make sure you were still alive.”

A scoff leaves your lips and you turn to your friends with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, guys, I’ll meet up with you later.”

You wave off to them and examine Keigo closer, still hiding behind his phone, but you can see the facade behind the screen and glasses. Dark circles dust a purple under his eyes, his lips are chapped and cracked from the wind, and there’s a twitch in his left eyebrow from a residual headache. He’s still just as hungover as he was this morning.

“Didn’t you leave for parole right after I kicked you out? How are you already on break?”

The two of you start an easy walk down the campus brick path and towards the main road leading to some cafes and restaurants. Leaves crunch under his boots and you play with the tension straps of your backpack, attempting to find a better distribution of weight.

“It’s lunchtime, and besides, you can do a whole lot when you’re ranked as highly as me.”

You shove him to the side and groan, not in the mood for his ego or voice this early, well maybe not early early. There’s a comfortable silence in the walk, one you’ve done a million times before on the days where your break between classes aligns with his lunch recess.

“So..” Keigo rubs his temple in light circles, squinting as the sun’s glare beams into his glasses at an off angle, “remember anything yet?”

“Nope.”

There’s an exasperated sigh that leaves his lips and you both turn the corner out of the campus gates and start down the main road. A few cars pass, but the traffic is light as most people are probably already inside enjoying their lunch on a day off.

“I remember the message perfectly though, so it’s not like my quirk has just vanished.”

Keigo hums and continues with a dejected face towards your usual lunch spot, only stopping to open the door for you once you arrive.

Sliding into the booth seat across from him, you don’t even bother to open the menu; already knowing what you’ll be ordering. He sits uncomfortably across from you, more so than he usually would with a hangover.

“Ok spill, why are you acting so weird? I’m the one who has to deal with this stupid text message.”

Keigo rolls his eyes and pours water from the decanter on the table into each of your glasses,

“Apparently I called Tokoyami last night.”

You sip your water and raise an eyebrow, “The student you’re interning? What’s wrong with that?”

Keigo rubs his temples annoyedly, “I supposedly told him to go deal with some paperwork involving an arrest I made… but I think I sent him your files to retrieve by mistake.”

Your eyebrow twitches and the water in your hand is now forgotten as you glare at the man in front of you. Working in support for heroes, especially in prosecution, you know how annoying it is to chase heroes down and do the legal paperwork for their actions; making a high school student do the same is cruel.

“Ok I’ll yell at you later about making him do your busy work. But why did you even think about mentioning my cases to him?”

Keigo huffs dramatically at the raise of your voice and places his chin on the table of the restaurant, “Not so loud ok?” he looks off to the side, “It’s because you kept yapping about your cases and they got stuck in my head. When I reviewed my call log I noticed he had called me at some point last night and even sent a confirmation text that he had secured the files.”

Before you can strangle him from over the table and wish nothing but misery on him for years to come, a waitress approaches the table. She’s a bit flustered for a moment seeing Keigo, but he pays no mind to her and recites both of your usual orders to her without even looking up. You settle for a kick in the shin and sink your face into your hands. “Do you know what hero’s files you sent for him to grab?”

Keigo scratches the light scruff of his chin and thinks hard, his eyebrows forming a slight ‘V’ in focus.

“Nah. No idea.”

Any remaining oxygen in your lungs is pushed out with a huff and you rub your temples in annoyance.

“Great. I guess I’ll have to head by UA and pick them up from him.”

Keigo slides his phone on the table to the side touching the wall, making room for the plates of food being delivered by the waitress. He shoots her a wink when she blushes and walks off; you roll your eyes and take a bite, happy to finally eat.

You sit in a loud silence, eating becoming the priority and focusing on recovering from the hangover as fast as possible. Though thinking over the plan of stopping by UA makes your blood cold at the realization.

“Wait- doesn’t Aizawa teach Tokoyami? How the fuck am I supposed to grab the files without bumping into him?”

Keigo looks up at you, his mouth open for another bite despite food nearly falling out unchewed, “Uhhh,” there's a half smile painted on his lips.

You take another bite and kick him from under the table.

“You asshole. Can you at least come with me to get them?”

“Hmm no can do. I got parole followed by a few meetings. I’m totally booked.”

“Why are you smiling then?”

Keigo chuckles and drowns the food in his mouth with water before leaning back in his seat and smirking at you, “Well…I wanna see how this plays out.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and take a smaller bite, grunting a small ‘hmm?’ and waiting for him to continue.

“Oh come on. This is the chance to actually have some sort of conversation with him.”

“Is that what we are calling this now? I didn’t even respond to his texts, how am I supposed to show my face on the school campus?”

Keigo snaps his fingers and points to your backpack, “Ok then it’s time! We have to answer.”

“One: we? Two: No way.”

He rolls his eyes and you watch him incredulously while continuing, “You’ve done enough damage already.”

Sturdy arms cross at his chest, “Come on, you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, we’re both basically back to sobriety at this point.”

Well he isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t take away any of the anxiety that’s been built on your shoulders. You wait an extra moment and slowly unzip the small pocket on your backpack and dig your hand to the bottom, feeling for the cool screen of the phone.

Keigo slides both of your plates to the slide, making room when you place the phone face up in the center of the table. A small look of acknowledgement is shared between you both; taping the screen and unlocking it, you take a breath and open the ‘message’ application.

There’s a dot next to the contact ‘Aizawa Shouta’ and a preview of the message can barely be seen. It hurts to watch and your face contorts into a wince without even opening it. Keigo’s silent but gives a small nod before tapping his finger on the notification and opening the message. Well messages.

From: Aizawa Shouta

Are you alright? Hopefully not too sick...

Regardless, I’m glad you got home safely.

From Aizawa Shouta

I’d like to meet up and talk if that's ok.

He double texted. He DOUBLE TEXTED. It’s almost sad how exciting it feels to receive a message from him twice, like he actually cared. God you really needed to get out more.

“Ok that’s good! Send something casual back, head to UA, grab the files, and fuck!”

You roll your eyes at Keigo but can’t help the slight increase in your heart rate. It was exciting that he wanted to see you but there was no guarantee it wasn’t to reprimand you for something that might have happened last night.

“What if-”

“No. No what if. If he was pissed or annoyed, he wouldn’t make an effort to reach out,” Keigo leans back into the booth again, “Trust me.”

You’ve given Keigo too much trust considering the success rate of his actions, but you don’t care enough to remind him at this moment. Instead, you spin the phone to face you and quickly draft a message in reply; after your companion gives a nod of approval you hit send.

To: Aizawa Shouta

Sounds good!

I’ll be in the area today if you’re free

Though the reply is sent, you can’t help the nerves that begin to eat at you. Keigo slides the plates back over in front of you both and continues his meal, “It’ll be fine ok?” You take a breath and pick up from where you left off on your lunch.

********

The security to UA is smooth and easy to pass through, the guards recognizing you by now and handing you a ‘visitor’ lanyard to hang around your neck. The main classroom building is dead ahead, though Keigo knows Tokoyami’s schedule enough to remember that weekend training for students doesn’t resume until 3pm.

Massive hero training grounds and buildings border the brick walkway you trend down in the direction of the ‘Hero’s Alliance’ student dorms. It’s a bittersweet feeling, seeing the next generation of heroes taking water breaks while dressed in their new outfits. Part of you always wondered what it would’ve been like to follow alongside your friends, fighting villains on the frontline with them instead of sitting in an office doing paperwork and wondering if they were going to survive the next fight.

The melancholy passes and you resume your focus on the path ahead, looking for signs indicating the building for ‘class 1-A’. A cool breeze blows through the thin fabric of your university sweatshirt, and you instinctively hug your arms into your body. Leaves scatter the walkway a colorful orange and red, though you can make out a small blip of golden-yellow from the head of Toshinori just up ahead.

Perfect! He was sober all night, I’ll just ask him to tell me what happened.

“Toshinori!”

You break into a light job to catch up and cringe at the smack of your backpack into your tailbone with every step.

He turns around instantly and smiles, “Oh Y/N! Nice to see you here.”

You meet him and match his walking pace, acting as inconspicuous as possible.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I’m taking Midoriya out for his ultimate-move training. He’s progressing faster than I expected!” He laughs awkwardly at his excited outburst and scratches the back of his head, “And what about you?”

“Oh, just grabbing some files from Tokoyami, Keigo had mixed up some of the paperwork he requested him to collect.”

Toshinori hums and continues walking alongside you, the dorm buildings now coming into view.

“So… I actually had another question to ask.” He hums and gives you a patient look.

“I’m having some trouble remembering everything that happened last night... Of course, I’d like to apologize to you if I did anything strange. I’m also here to see Aizawa to do the same.”

Toshinori laughs and waves his hand, “Oh there’s no need to apologize to me Y/N! I left shortly after the game ended, and I don’t recall you acting strange with me in any way.”

A light sigh escapes your lungs in relief, but Toshinori shifts awkwardly to the side now avoiding eye contact.

“That’s nice to hear. But… do you know if anything happened between Aizawa and I? I feel there’s a bit of awkward tension.”

Coughs escape his mouth and his face is lit up in a bright red, he instinctively turns his head to the side in a poor attempt to hide his fluster.

“Well.. that would be inappropriate to recount.. certain events on school grounds”

“All might!”

You wish you could be smite down by lightning in that moment and be reduced to a useless pile of ash and textbook embers. Midoriya makes no connection in your face of horror when he runs down the steps of the dormitory to greet his mentor. With legs made of lead you watch Toshinori give a warm smile to the young man and awkwardly swallow when his attention glances past you again.

Inappropriate? INAPPROPRIATE??

Midoriya eventually turns to you and either ignores or doesn’t recognize the self-loathing currently taking place within your mind and offers an excited ‘hello’. You force out a greeting through grit teeth and wave off to the two as they head towards a training facility.

You stand outside nearly a whole minute before trudging up the short staircase and opening the large doors to the lobby. A variety of students sit around the common room in their hero uniforms, relaxing until their scheduled training and enjoying each other's company.

“Need help?”

You stand awkwardly in the entrance and notice who you vaguely remember as being Todoroki now standing nearby.

“Oh yea. Keigo- or uh Hawks, sent me here to grab some files from Tokoyami.”

Todoroki nods and you continue casually, “Is your teacher here…?”

The young man examines the room and gives a light shrug, now motioning you to follow him to the elevator, “If he’s not down here he might be sleeping in all honesty. Training doesn’t resume for a little while.”

You nod to a silent beat and peer around once more before stepping into the elevator with

Todoroki. “You work in law, right? I think you’ve done a case for my father before.”

“Oh yes, I have a few times with my externship mentor.”

He nods silently and the conversation is effectively ended. You make a mental note and rock on your feet lightly; the silence isn’t forced and it’s clear that his personality is simply more reserved.

With a ‘ding’ of the elevator opening, Todoroki leads you to Tokoyami’s door and returns promptly towards the lift in an effort to resume his break in the common room. You peer down both ends of the empty hallway and knock twice against the wood before the door is opened as thinly as possible.

“Yes?”

“I’m here-,” you pause and notice the dark aura of the room and soft purple lights emitting barely a glow, “-here to pick up the files Kei- Hawks had mentioned.”

Tokoyami glances at you from the crack in the door, “Alright, I’ll hand them to you out there.”

The door closes in your face and you blink a few times in confusion before eventually backing up into the center of the hallway. The carpet is plush under your feet as you distribute your weight from hip to hip waiting for the door to open once again.

“Here,” Tokoyami slides out from his room, an arrangement of manilla folders in tow, and hands them over to you. His hero uniform is on but disheveled, clear you had caught him off-guard.

“Sorry about the mix-up.”

“It’s no worry, I’m sure you know more than me just how easy it is to get lost amongst those papers.”

A light exhale leaves your lips and you offer the young man a smile, “I’ll let Hawks know to lighten up on this kinda work ok? A kid like you in this school shouldn’t be doing my job,”

Tokoyami blinks and tilts his head to the side despite being halfway back into this room again, “It's important though. Just because I’m not training for the same profession as you doesn’t make the work you do any less important than the one a pro-hero does.”

He shuts the door and leaves you in the hallway with four case files and a small mixture of existential relief and anxiety. Cutting your losses, you head back for the elevator and take it down to the lobby, silently thanking your luck for the lack of Aizawa’s presence, especially after Toshinori effectively put you into cardiac arrest with his warning.

Groups of students are still idly chatting away while others finish up their snacks and begin to stretch lightly in preparation for training. Todoroki looks up from his conversation with an extremely passionate boy with glasses and gives a slight wave goodbye.

“Y/N.”

Ok nevermind, there’s no such thing as luck and I’m cursed to live an unfortunate life.

There’s no need to turn around, the voice obviously belonging to Aizawa as his footsteps approach from behind you. Picking at the strings of your sweatshirt you spin and drink in his hero uniform, silently admiring the tousle of his long hair.

“Oh hey.”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you on campus at this hour, but..” he shifts for half a second, “if it’s alright I’d like to speak with you before you go?”

“Sure,” you reply as casually as possible and appreciate the background noise of the students drowning out your conversation.

Aizawa nods and motions you to follow him outside and down the entrance stairs to the small courtyard. Nervous sweat builds on your palms and you awkwardly wipe it on your sweatpants, now hyper aware of your hangover outfit and disheveled appearance.

There’s an awkward silence between the both of you.

I just need to apologize. Whatever I did must’ve been fucked if Toshinori reacted like that. I just need to grow up and face the fact any chance I had is gone and move on with my disappointing life.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait-”

“What-?”

Aizawa and you stumble on your words after speaking simultaneously, his eyes widening and cheeks becoming slightly pink. Your own face heats up and every time one of you tries to speak, the other is attempting to as well.

He raises a hand, “Ok, you start.”

“Well.. I came to apologize,” you awkwardly look off and fiddle with the backpack straps on your shoulders, manilla folder tucked under an arm, “For the stupid message I sent this morning, well Keigo kinda sent.”

Aizawa sucks in a short breath at his name but remains silent as you continue, his shoulders stiff.

“And for whatever I did last night... In all honesty I don’t actually remember any of it..”

A long silence follows and you peel your eyes off the sight of students walking around the school grounds and face him. There’s an expression you can’t quite read but his shoulders are more relaxed, and the tenseness of his muscles seem released; nearly relief.

Aizawa notices your finished statement and coughs slightly, looking around the courtyard with his ears dusted in pink, “Oh I see.”

“Well... what were you sorry for…?”

He shifts lightly, as if the script he had mentally prepared himself for has gone out the window and he’s left on stage improving his lines, “Just the same thing of course. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable last night… or when I messaged you this morning.”

The behavior is awkward and unfamiliar, it’s obvious there’s more than what he’s letting on. You shake your head ‘no’ and before you can push further, he notices the folders in your possession and changes the topic.

“I heard from your externship mentor you might be dropping by for a few cases, if there’s one in there with Vlad King I’ll be involved in the case as well.”

You blink and look down at the folders, “Yea I believe that one is going through our office-”

“-Great,” he moves towards the dorm entrance abruptly, eager to get out the conversation, “I’ll be seeing you on Tuesday then for the debrief.”

Your eyes go wide at the sudden change and there’s a small tug in your heart in disappointment from lack of closure. Watching him ascend the stairs, he pauses halfway up and turns to you, “I have your blazer still, let’s meet Monday so I can return it? There’s a good coffee shop nearby.” “Sure..”

He disappears into the building without any further explanation and you’re left standing in the courtyard unsure of what just happened. Robotically, you slide out your cell phone and answer a few ‘where are you’ texts from your friends who have resumed their study session at the library. Walking towards the exit gates, you open Keigo’s contact and begin drafting a novel of what just happened, unsure of exactly how to interpret the entire conversation.

“Ah, leaving already?”

You whip your head up and look at Toshinori waving at you and casually approaching; Midoriya stands in an open field practicing his jump kicks, unaware of the conversation.

“Yea,” you lift a few folders, “Got what I needed.”

“And did you resolve the uh... issue?”

Well no, not really. I still don’t know what even happened.

“Kinda, we cleared the air and acknowledged we’d be working on closing a case together. I’d say that’s a resolution for now.”

Toshinori nods and laughs, “I'm glad! I didn’t think it would be too awkward considering you both couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

Huh?... HUH?

“Huh..?” your voice is weak and Toshinori immediately raises his hands apologetically. “Oh I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to be rude. To be honest everyone was wondering when you both would work it out.”

There’s no language in which a single coherent thought could form into a sentence; your mind is completely blank.

“I don’t.. I don’t understand.”

Toshinori tilts his head to the side, now just as confused as you, “Isn’t that what you talked about? I left right before 12am, but you both were playing billiards and making dinner plans. Normally speaking about a teacher and prosecution support dating would be inappropriate to bring up in front of students,” he turns to Midoriya, “but I’m glad you worked it out!”

. . . .

What? I don’t-

He looks at you and smiles genuinely as if this was something that had been eating at him while you stand motionless and without flinching in the cold wind. Your throat is dry and you can feel your lips getting chapped from the air.

“All might! Did you see that one?”

Midoriya yells from the center of the field and Toshinori waves back at him before turning to you one last time, “If you want more specifics on the evening to reminisce on, you should ask Midnight. She was taking tons of videos at the time.”

********

AIZAWA POV

She doesn’t know? She doesn’t remember…?

Aizawa holds back any emotion on his face while he pours a mug of coffee in the dorm kitchen, relief and gratitude rushing through his veins. It seemed luck truly was on his side this past week, not only did he get the phone number the girl he was pining over thought was cute and made coffee plans with her, but she didn’t remember a thing about the night before when he made a complete ass of himself.

Guilt also gnawed at his gut as he sipped the warm liquid and watched his students chat amongst themselves in preparation for training to resume. He should come clean and tell you exactly what happened, but the idea of getting a fresh chance was almost too refreshing.

I’ll come clean over coffee. Yea. I’ll do it then.

He lets himself relish in the idea of being safe just a little while longer and pushes down the nervousness of rejection that still resided deep within him. Sure, when you’re both drunk in a bar you’ll admit to a lot of things, but that doesn't mean you actually felt them sober.

The hand you kept firm on his bicep while he tried to teach you how to play billiards, as if you even cared about the game, burned a mark into his skin. The way you leaned over the green of the table and hit any ball you felt like, regardless of stripe or solid, took all the willpower within him not to admire the swell of your ass in front of everyone. And every time you would stare from eye to eye to lips was nearly enough for him to lose all resolve and admit his stupid pathetic feelings right there in the bar. Instead, he resorted to casually asking to see your phone and adding in his contact ‘just in case’, the liquid courage making him smoother than any other time he’s talked to you.

This is ridiculous.

Aizawa sips his coffee and stares down into the liquid with a slight forlorn look, hating the way his warped reflection stared back at him. As if you really wanted him? The thought hurt enough to laugh so he settled to take another sip from his drink instead. You, an ace law student bound to be the country's next best prosecutor, who’s smart and charming and beautiful, and who was way out of the league of a sleep-deprived unshaven high school teacher.

He’d spent countless cases avoiding you, thinking if he kept enough distance the feeling would go away and not grow into the suffocating fixation it inevitably became. Maybe he would use the coffee date to just end the whole game altogether and get some closure. End it before he looked like an idiot and tried to make room for you in his already hectic schedule. He would go back to the plaguing dreams that left him feeling even shittier for the thoughts of you that would swarm his brain and always end with his hand shoved down his boxers.

It wouldn’t be fair.

It’s the same line he always told himself. It wouldn’t be fair to make you wait long nights for him, unsure of his condition after a fight. It wouldn’t be fair to try and make room for you when his students had become a priority. It wouldn't be fair to chain you down to a nobody hero like him when your best friend was admired by so many more.

Aizawa sipped his coffee one more time and placed the mug on the counter, enjoying the few hours he had of your blissful ignorance before he eventually came clean. He silently thanked his luck one last time before clapping his hands and approaching the couch full of students, eager to resume training and shake the thoughts of you out of his head

ty so much for the support for this series! i still have some finals so my upload schedule is annoying af, but i promise i'll keep writing when i have time!

let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list for this~~ also if u have any requests in general

Tags: @idkidk32 @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[cheonstapes]

We need a soulmate au with Miguel! There are barely any in this fandom with reader x miguel and it’s such a cute trope!

Especially with someone who isn’t a complete sunshine, just a reader who is as equally as cold and uninterested in the idea of “soulmates” as Miguel would be, yet they both finds themselves naturally drawn to one another.

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘YOU AND ME, ALWAYS TOGETHER’ (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉヽ(^o^)

a/n ~ NO SMUT?? OH EM GEE! this was so cute i loved it sm! and yes, im sorry but i hate the sunshine reader fics😭 GIMMIE EMO READER AND GRUMPY MIGGY!!

summary; your futures were sealed from the moment you both met, you two just had to accept it.

pairing; miguel o’hara x reader

wc; 1.5k

cw; FLUFF! minor angst, soulmate au!, i think reader is mostly gn! pls tell me if not🩷, blood, injuries, mutual pining, kissing, reader has a little panic attack, love love love, spanish not translated, NAWT PROOFREAD - we all caps now

As much as he hated to admit it, Miguel always knew you were different.

Miguel was cautious of those around him, guarding his heart against anyone he deemed was getting a bit too close. And you — you were no exception, well, at the start. You were no ray of sunshine, that’s for sure. The way you carried yourself, so nonchalantly — almost rivalling Miguel in his own game.

He thinks about the day he first met you often, the curt nod you gave when he reluctantly invited you into the society. The moment he locked eyes with you, something changed. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the fight, or maybe it was the way your bored eyes brightened ever so slightly as you looked at him. Whatever it was, he didn’t like the way his heart momentarily skipped a beat.

He knew you felt it too, that small spark in your belly. It was impossible to ignore him, not just because he’s your boss — but because you didn’t want to. Every time you were around him the world seemed to look a little brighter, blending colours of you two’s shared connection to create an opening for you both to find each other — to explore the depths of that tumultuous abyss.

It was too good to be true, anyway. The idea of being connected to someone like that, having a ‘soulmate’, was downright stupid. You both were too busy protecting the multiverse to worry about something as trivial as love — Miguel scoured the timelines, and no matter how hard he tried, a love of his own was not part of it.

Yet you couldn’t seem to leave each other alone. The bond between the both of you constantly drawing you back to him, and him back to you. It was small things at first, asking you to go over some

mission reports, double checking data that he had already triple checked with you — then it was asking if you wanted an empanada from the canteen, bringing you coffee when he noticed your tired state, sitting you on his desk as he patched up your injuries.

It infuriated you to no end. Harbouring these feelings deep inside of you, you knew deep down you may be overreacting— but this had to stop. It would never work. It’s all you could tell yourself as you sat in silence, your mask covering your distressed face as he rambled on about the details of the next mission. “You’re with me, let’s go.”

“Huh?” You were so cute. It was a look that he’s never seen on you before, your eyes widened slightly, mouth open in a small pout. “The mission. You’re coming with me, so get moving.” That was the last thing you really wanted, being in direct contact with Miguel. A small part of you felt…excited? It was a strange feeling, one you didn’t welcome with open arms — pushing it down with a roll of your eyes and a small huff as you followed Miguel through the portal.

The universe you were in was practically a wasteland. It was unlike any you’ve seen before and it didn’t sit right with you at all. The air was filled with a noxious green smog, buildings seemingly crumbling with every swing the two of you took. “This is gonna be quick, capture the anomaly and we go. Do not engage unless it attacks first.” His stern voice cut through the heavy silence, your head flitting over to where he was perched on a rooftop.

“Yeah, ok, no problem.” It took everything for you not to respond with some sarcastic remark, the vibe here was too unsettling for you to take a jab at Miguel. He could sense something was off, not with this world — but with you. It was like he had a sixth sense, always knowing when you were upset, angry, happy, hungry. He didn’t think much of it, but something about today made the sense so much more intense.

He was next to you in an instant, towering over you as he blocked your vision of the world in front of you. “Hey, cariño, look at me.” Miguel’s voice had never been softer, even though there was still that gravelly undertone — it was calming, enough to get you to lift your head. The pure distress on your face made his gut twist in anguish, feeling his own anxiety picking up — he hadn’t felt like that in years. Those rough hands of his held your cheeks, so gently, as his thumb caressed the warm skin.

“You know I don’t like seeing you like this — all worried. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you were capable of handling yourself, nena.”

“I know…but I-“

“Ah — no buts. What you aren’t gonna do right now is doubt yourself. I’ve known you for 8 years now, and the last thing I think when I see you is ‘quitter’. So get your ass together so we can finish this and go home.” Another curt nod, but this time there was the small hint of a smile on your face — the fire in your eyes reigniting at his words.

“Bueña chica. C’mon the anomaly should be just —“

It was barely touching you. The end of a sharp spike close to penetrating the tender skin of your stomach — but for some reason the pain was unbearable. It felt like blood was pooling in your organs, only there was none. The quietness interrupted as soft patter of crimson droplets hit the jagged concrete of the roof.

Your eyes trailed up, Miguel’s face uncharacteristically contorted into one of something akin to fear — the gaping hole in his stomach revealing itself when the thick shard slides out of it, the anomaly making unintelligible clicks and groans behind him. “No…no, Miguel!” The pain you felt directly mirrored his, your screams of anguish piercing the sensitive ears of the creature — its scaly body slithering off before you could stop it.

“Miguel? Miguel, stay with me ok — we’re going home, I-I’m gonna open the portal now and we’re gonna get you some help.” He could hear how fast your heart was beating, rings of red invading your eyes as tears pooled along with it. Even with the doughnut-sized hole in his torso, he couldn’t help but smile at how cute you were when you’re worried — the pain subsiding momentarily. “Ey, ¡carajo!, cálmate cariño. I…I’ll be ok, nothing I can’t handle.”

“Miguel, respectfully, that’s bullshit — there’s quite literally a whole carved out of you and you wanna sit here and tell me you’ll be ok? We’re going back right now, you’re not fucking dying on me.” Turning, you tapped around on your watch — opening a portal back to the HQ. Miguel’s presence behind you didn’t go unnoticed, despite his fatal, in your eyes, injury — he still found the time to tease you when he should be on the ground fighting for his life.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell you to look at me?” Was his voice always that deep, that sultry. His hands trail up your arm, grasping your wrist gently to stop your movements. The world turns as your spun round, eye-to-chest with Miguel before he lifts your head by your chin. He guides your hand towards his stomach, your hand meeting his firm muscles. “Where — Where did it…?” He chuckles deeply, shaking his head.

“Told you it’s nothing I can’t handle.” He was smiling, genuinely smiling as he looked at you — his eyes softening as he looked down at your expression. You were spluttering, hands waving around as you tried to process what you’re looking at — the hole now completely sealed as if nothing happened. Miguel’s rough hands cupped your cheeks, eyes flickering down to your lips — his own face heating up slightly.

You pause, hands shaking coming to grasp onto his shoulders — your bodies coming to press against each other. It was straight out of a movie, a dysfunctional one at that, but a movie nonetheless — faces meeting in the middle as your lips collide, tongues gently dancing. One of his hands move to grip your hips through the fabric of your suit, blunt nails digging into the fat as he grunts out curses against your spit soaked lips.

A few heated minutes pass and he breaks the kiss, panting down at you. “Let’s go capture that fucker.” You nod, your face lighting up from that bright smile you put on — once dull eyes sparkling up at him. “And after, I’m taking you out to that buffet place you keep talking about.”

Your hearts were beating in sync, everything perfectly aligned as you both finally found each other. You’re future together slotting into the timeline, the shared acknowledgement of your connection coming to fruition.

Whether you believed it or not, you two were soulmates, and nothing would change that.

-if you put a buck in my cup

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #7: AGGRANDICIZE

(also on spotify!)

There's no other way to intro this song - TAKE IT AWAY, TIKTOK VOICE

---

It's a hot and muggy night in Texas, mid-July of 2022.

In my dream, I am somewhere else entirely - A room in the city of Chicago, nestled somewhere high up amongst a countless number of high-rises, aesthetically somewhere between an upscale apartment, an art gallery, and a concert hall. Wide-open windows reveal the landscape of glass and steel spires, light bouncing between reflective surfaces indiscriminately and ultimately making it into the space I'd found myself in.

A good few souls were gathered here, many in suits holding notepads and handheld recorders, others in the flamboyantly-casual wear you might expect from a rock star invited to a press event. A song was playing at modest volume over an unseen sound system, an achingly familiar arrangement steadily ticking away at mid-tempo, drums striking with exacting precision upon each downbeat.

I held in my hand a phone, open to a familiar looking website. I don't recall most the actual words - it was a dream, there likely weren't any - but I recall it in broad strokes, with one specific detail, so I'll do my best to recreate the experience below.

i don't know if any of these shapes actually mean anything i just scribbled things down because i remember there being a row of Something there

"Some might bemoan this newest foray into glossy, baroque art pop as being simply a cheap Kate Bush impersonation," our dream reviewer wrote. "For Jamie, though, I believe she'd take this as a compliment."

And yes, I would. That's the kind of artist you're grateful to be mentioned in the same breath as! That being said, like, huh? That's not even how you spell aggrandize. What?

I woke up with a singular mission.

---

In this day and age, "being a star" is a strangely democratized concept. Everyone is a celebrity, with a brand image to maintain and an audience to cater to and a compelling story arc to be followed. Fandom manifests in all its beautiful and nightmarish aspects even in amounts of tens of people.

Maybe it's my boomer dadrock-loving parents, or my childhood obsession with the game Rock Band, or some chemical imbalance, or simply some toxic nostalgia manifest, but part of me couldn't help but crave it.

I wanted it to be true!! The romantic idea of the musician, touring nonstop in beatup vans across entire continents, pouring their heart out on stage and in recording booths, seeing their name up in lights and embossed in gilded vinyl records, finding constant companionship secondhand. Obviously, reality is so much messier than that, but honestly, it's a dream I've never really been able to let go of - being a star.

I shouldn't have to tell you how out of touch with reality that ideal is. That doesn't stop the dreams from coming.

The subject Aggrandicize is written for, that the lyrics are addressed to, is fame itself. To be wanted, to be dissected, to be bleached and recycled ad infinitum, to be subject to the churning violent machine of fame; To be forever just out of sight, to lack the luck, to bleed and bleed and bleed until you're nothing and not even get a single inch closer to that goal because it's impossible and it's not even what you want. Doesn't it sound like paradise? To tower over reality itself, a redwood tree amongst bushes and ferns? To take this image and stretch, to grow so big gravity revolves around you? To be more brand than body? To be a star?

I don't need that. I don't want that, even if I think I do. Maybe I want to want you to want me, but it is an ideal destined to rot me from the inside out and drain me for every ounce of blood. I just want to make music! And honestly, the path I've gone down has proven that I can have my cake and eat it, too - Playing live at Digital Stars earlier this year was one of the most gratifying and fulfilling experiences I've ever had in my life. I can make better memories by following where my art takes me, memories without 'fame' and 'fortune', memories of light and connection and getting in a room with a bunch of people who know the lyrics and singing my fucking heart out alongside them.

...

Basically, I own a TikTok account, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I ever use it.

---

This song, like many others I've written, was created primarily through assembling a bunch of piecemeal ideas I'd amassed over a couple years of demos. In particular, it borrows a lot from On Fire, a song I wrote for a song jam hosted by Fourth Strike Records back in 2021! I couldn't really tell you why, but I just keep returning to this song over and over - first with Encore, and now with this... Thankfully, I think I've exhausted this font of ideas at this point.

Aggrandicize, somewhat fittingly, is also the song that gave me the most technical trouble on this entire release - I think I genuinely went back and reworked the mix some fifty-odd times before finally giving up and just sending it as-is. I'm still somewhat unhappy with the final result, but hey, the only difference between a work-in-progress and a finished piece is what you call it, I guess.

This is another song I've had a lot of MV ideas for, and that may very well still see a video if I decide to go that route! There's a couple concepts that I've floated, including possibly an animated/animatic type video, but the original concept was to do a whole shitload of fake brainrot tiktoks and film them playing off a phone synced up to the music. That idea never took off, mostly because I couldn't bring myself to do all that, but there's exactly one remnant I'd like to share.

That's it for today!! If you have any questions, I'll gladly answer them below, but otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow to talk about women who love other women with Liaison!

[unreliablesnake]

Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

[dindjarindiaries]

HUNTER MASTERLIST

Each story below focuses on Hunter, with pairings for each story indicated along with summaries.

Stories marked with an asterisk (*) contain sexual, though not explicit/graphic, content.

My ratings are as follows: G (all ages), T (13+), M (18+)

Last updated: November 29, 2024

main masterlist

SERIES

senator’s shadow completed • fem!reader Clone Force 99 is assigned as your protection when you embark on a risky diplomatic mission, and a certain sergeant starts to get protective of you.

broken wings • fem!reader You meet Clone Force 99 by chance, and what the galaxy’s set in motion for you and Hunter heals you both in ways you never realized you needed.

ONE-SHOTS

refuge • reader After his confrontation with the bounty hunter, Hunter’s in desperate need of reassurance that only you know how to provide.

desperation • reader You venture alone to rescue Hunter, unable to wait any longer—for better or for worse.

wounds unseen • reader You and Hunter help each other through the fallout of Omega’s capture on Pabu.

borrowed time • reader You can’t stop staring at Hunter during a mission, and little do you know just how distracting it is for both him and you.

rush • reader You and Hunter have to make a risky escape when the end of a mission goes sideways, though even an exit gone wrong has a bright side.

at victory’s end • reader You help Hunter to recover from the lasting effects of Hemlock’s torture on Tantiss.

the art of letting go • reader After Omega leaves for her new adventure, you seek to comfort the one who’s sent her off.

in peace, there is love • reader Months after Tantiss in the peacefulness of Pabu, you find it impossible to ignore the feelings you’ve always had for Hunter.

reckoning • reader When you and Hunter are left at Hemlock’s mercy, you fight your hardest to avoid becoming the scientist’s cruel bargaining chip.

clouded • reader One year after Eriadu, you and Hunter unknowingly seek one another for comfort, achieving a new kind of vulnerability that could change everything.

the end of love • reader After losing Hunter to both his inhibitor chip and the Empire on Bracca, you and the squad stop at nothing to bring the real him back.

the unstoppable tide • reader Once Hunter finally let go, there was no holding back, and you were the only person who could keep him from drowning.

damn good drinks • reader An unfortunate mistake rewards you with a fortunate encounter, and this undercover soldier is nothing like you could have expected.

DIALOGUE PROMPTS

“Your hair is really soft.” (x)

“You’re just a softie.” (x)

“I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all” / “Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you” / “I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” (x)

“You’re not alone, baby. You never have been.” (x)

“I didn’t know where else to go.” (x)

“Everything’s gonna be okay.” “Promise?” “Promise.” (x)

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.” / “Come back to bed.” / “Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up.” (x)

"If I have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode.” / “Kiss me again.” (x)

"Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe." (x)

“How is it you always know what I need, huh?” / “No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in.” / “Don’t go. Stay.” (x)

“Are you asking me out on a date?” / “I’m not drunk enough for this.” / “I think you should kiss me.” (x)

KISS PROMPTS

Kisses for a cover (x)

A kiss of gratitude (x)

[thinemoonshine]

𓆰𝓈𝑜𝒾𝓁, 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓊𝒹𝑒 ♡𓆪

cha hyun su x female reader genre: romance, angst, fluff type: series (but can be read as oneshot) word count: 2,702

⚠ mentions of self-harm and suicide ⚠

part 4 of series ◄◄ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ part 6 of series

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ synopsis: things have gotten worse. monsters rapidly increased, green home was destroyed and the military came to supposedly 'help them' or as what (y/n) actually believes, 'collect cha hyun su' as part of their 'special infected search' mission. this caused their separation and to add to that, a series of unfortunate events follow- challenging (y/n)'s already wavering tenacity to stay alive... and the presence of a 'guardian angel' may just rekindle or extinguish her flame ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

It's been a while since the remaining surviving residents of Green Home Mansion Apartment and others have been living in the stadium. (y/n) is one of the former, alive, yet day by day, she feels less so- and knowing this kills her. She talks less each day, eats less, feels less and even moves less- slowly beginning to be a puppet on strings. The routine never changes; wake up, cut and bleed to prove her identity as human, eat and drink whatever there is to eat- none at all at some times, suffer insanely long hours of boredom then go back to sleep. Wake up and it's the same thing all over again.

Although, there is one thing (y/n) looks forward to; hanging out with Eunyu, Eunhyuk's younger sister whom she's somewhat close with due to their close age. Well, not really 'hanging out' but more of following her to the secret exit in the stadium and watching her leave. (y/n) will then wait around, praying that Eunyu will be safe and turning out relieved and joyful when she would come back alive. This small scenario that happens daily is what keeps her... feeling, in a way. To hope, to be relieved, to celebrate.

Eunyu doesn't share the same sentiments as her, obviously, since she finds her outings as 'failures' at the inability to find her brother who she believes (or chooses to, at least) is alive. But, she does feel grateful and sincerely... happy, to return to someone waiting for her. As cold as Eunyu seems, she is actually quite cordial towards (y/n) than she is with anyone else.

"How was today's trip?" (y/n) tails after Eunyu as she slips back into the stadium with dirt and soil all over her skin and clothes.

"Boring," the latter answers languidly as she strides- not sparing the other a glance. "But, he came again."

(y/n) pauses slightly at this but resumes her steps quickly again. "...Your hero?"

"Eunhyuk," her friend replies almost immediately and (y/n) feels the added weight in the air around them. Eunyu's told her about the 'guardian angel' that saves her whenever she gets in trouble outside and although it does make sense that they could be Eunhyuk who became a neo-human, at the same time... it sounds impossible. Just like the idea of Hyun Su coming back.

(y/n) only smiles at Eunyu, not saying anything further and just like that, another day passes.

Once again, she wakes up, cuts and bleeds, eats, drinks, and waits long insufferable hour—

"I want to leave," (y/n) says under her breath as she stands in front of the secret exit.

Huh. It seems today, the winds have changed.

She turns back into the stadium before exhaling a long breath and leaving a small folded note beside her foot for Eunyu. The latter left earlier, which is perfect because she would've never let her leave. But she'll be wondering where (y/n) is when she returns. The note will suffice.

"I'll be back... I think," (y/n) casually says, not caring for her fate at this point, and leaves without another look.

-

The sky's turn darker and the winds have picked up. Yet, (y/n) still remains wandering aimlessly. She's met with a couple of monsters, some small and hiding was enough to cover her; some big but non-violent. She got lucky. So lucky that she feels it's ridiculous.

All this fortune is making her more greedy; more hopeful for change, for growth, for... for Hyun Su. But all those is only going to make her feel more lonely, more longing and more... miserable. As selfish and ungrateful as it sounds, there just seems to be nothing left to live for. No one to miss, no one to look forward to.

"Just like me... No one will miss me-" (y/n) trails off as her head raises to look at the tall building beside her. "-if I was gone..."

She blinks and suddenly, she finds herself on the rooftop- looking down at the grassy ground that's a number of levels beneath her. She wonders if Eunyu's read the letter yet. And wonders if her guardian angel made sure of her returning safely.

But what she wonders most... is whether that guardian angel would treat her the same way as they do with Eunyu. If they really are Eunhyuk, he'd save her, right? Maybe? Probably. But she'll never know if she never tries.

And so, her foot lifts off the cement roof and soon, she's free falling with the beautiful view of the starry sky and the cold night air tickling her skin like a million feathers. Strangely, she feels at peace. The unknown of tomorrow- or the next few seconds, fills her with anticipation.

She throws her arms out as her eyes close, letting gravity do its job— until she's captured and crushed against a broad chest before a loud tumble follows.

She landed... alive?

(y/n)'s eyes widen when she realizes this and she quickly props herself up- stumbling slightly at the feeling of ribs against her palms and she gasps at the human figure below her.

Well, if only not for the wing sticking out his right shoulder where there's meant to be an arm. But even with it covering his face from it being used to shield around them, she can guess who it is. Who else can it be?

"You! You're back! Lee Eunhyuk!" She exclaims with genuine shock but relieved and glad for most. A bright smile stretches on her face as she properly sits up—overlooking the fact that her 'cushion' is in fact, a human abdomen—and puts one hand on the large wing to push it away. "Eunyu was right all along! You're—"

Her breath stops and smile drops. What once were upturned, crescent eyes sparkling with glee are now rounded with deep obscurity as they slice between his dark, glossy ones that stare up at her with soft endearment, yet a strange, brittle coldness.

"Cha Hyun Su?" She squeaks out, barely able to speak from the shock and emotions spiraling inside her; both the good and bad.

The other says nothing, nor does his mien express anything as he sits up with his hand hovering her back- just an inch away from touching.

"It's you... All this time, the one that's been saving Eunyu was you," (y/n) completes the puzzle but is again, met with silence as he shifts her away to the grass beside them before standing up.

She watches his wide back becoming smaller and the befuddlement within her quickly boils into something else. And her hands curl to fists.

"Ya, Cha Hyun Su! Where were you?? All this time, I thought you were at a shelter, or-or a lab being experimented on but turns out you've been... been here?? Out and about, wherever this is!" (y/n) shouts, furious and overall, betrayed, that he's never once bothered to visit her. To see her. Tell her that he survived.

Despite her roars, the other is unfazed as he continues to walk away but his choice to remain on land despite his ability to fly is enough to tell (y/n) that he's listening to her.

So, she does what she does best: follow.

"Hey! Talk to me!" She demands and spins him around by the arm when she catches up.

"What? What do you possibly want me to say?" He snaps and his frigid attitude takes her aback. Even the look in his eye as he stares her down, it's... unwelcoming. The fire in her is diminished by the raging waves of desolation that drowns her. She could've escaped this feeling. She could've been free minutes ago if Hyun Su didn't save her.

But now, seeing him act like this, act like a complete stranger towards her, everything became worse. They haven't seen each other for nearly a year but is that enough reason to treat her like one? There was something between them— (y/n) believes there is something between them but maybe, she's wrong. Maybe, it's just her.

He's the only light for her in this cruel, dark world; the only breath of fresh air and the thought of never being able to see him again was worse than being dead. But to Hyun Su... just what is she?

"You should've left me to die."

At this, his brows twitch and jaw tightens. "What?"

"You shouldn't have saved me! I'm dying anyways and all I wanted was to make it quicker! Is that too much of me to even ask for??"

Her thread finally, snaps.

Hyun Su grapples her shoulders- his wing now back to its original form. "You're dying? What do you mean?"

The panic in his voice makes her scoff. Just before, he wouldn't even spare a glance.

"What's it to you?" (y/n) hisses and shakes his hands off. "I could've died any day before this but would you have known? No. You don't bother to know. You don't care. Even saving me today, it was just some sort of 'human conscience,' wasn't it? You couldn't live with yourself if you let me die, knowing that you could've saved me- so you did. But even then, you wouldn't have bat an eye if I ended up dying somewhere out of your territory."

All these words, they feel like blades through her throat as she speaks them. But if it's the last time she's ever gonna see him, she wants to at least, leave an impression. To haunt him— as much as he's haunted her.

"Well, you don't have worry no more. Because the next time I'll try something, you won't know it," (y/n) declares confidently and glares at him dead in the eye before turning away to leave.

Tears brim the moment her back faces him and she bites her quivering bottom lip from exposing her sobs- but she's soon rendered soundless at the feel of arms wrapping around her figure from behind.

"Please... don't do this again. Please," Hyun Su pleads shakily and only then does she notice the restrained sobs that spill past his lips. "If you do something in the stadium... somewhere I can't see you, I-I can't save you. So, please, (y/n), don't."

The other stays silent, much too busy trying to hold her own cries and she feels his arms tighten.

"I follow Eunyu around, hoping to see you but I never could. But then I saw you one day. I caught a glimpse of you at the stadium's secret exit- sending Eunyu off and then again, I saw you at the exact same place when she came back. It made me happy... seeing you smile whenever she returned, and as much as I wanted to approach Eunyu to ask about you- I couldn't. "I know who she's looking for... and it isn't me. So I— I got afraid that if I revealed myself, and end up shattering her hopes, she'll never come out again and... you won't have any reason to go to the exit- and I won't be able to see you anymore," Hyun Su confesses his true feelings as his embrace on (y/n) remains unwavering- on contrary, it seems to be more and more secure as the seconds pass, but not enough to suffocate her.

Not that she isn't already from the painful strain in her neck to control the tears.

"It's selfish! I-I know that it's selfish! But I couldn't think... I didn't know what else I could do," he continues with the tremor in his voice heightening. "I care. I really do, (y/n)- and it's all my fault that you felt like I didn't. It's all me. So please, please don't. Don't do this again, please."

(y/n) swallows the hurt as his desperation seeps through her heart- thawing the ice that was forming around it like a cocoon, melting her resolve to forget him and never turn back. "You could've approached me."

"...I was scared that you-" He stops suddenly and instead brings his head down to her shoulder, rubbing his eyes against the fabric of her shirt and if it was damp with his tears before, it's drenched with it now. "I'm not the same as I was."

"If you're talking about your wing, your monster side, or whatever else it is, I don't care," (y/n) confidently declares as she spins in his arms, now looking up at him and the sight of his pooled, glossy eyes breaks her heart and simultaneously tickles it. It's a horrible thought, but he's adorable when he gets emotional. "Okay, Cha Hyun Su?”

The flickering of his eyes on hers tells her that he's skeptical and she cups his cheek, surprising him, and only adding to it when she headbutts him.

He blinks fast, confused, and barely affected while the perpetrator is clutching her head from the pain. "Are you okay? Did something break?"

Hyun Su's hands roam around her face and head, worried that she's actually fractured something.

"No, I'm fine! I'm just trying to prove to you that I really don't care. Look, if I was afraid of you would I have attacked you?" (y/n) explains her point between hisses of pain.

Hyun Su shakes his head with large, warm hands still clasping her cheeks. "N-no."

"See? I don't mind. And if I really cared about you being 'changed,' would I still do this?" She curls her fingers around his collar and yanks him down- smashing their lips together and she can feel his little jump of surprise before he slowly succumbs.

His hands slide down to her waist and he presses her against him- sweeping her off her feet quite literally when he lifts her up just to dive in further into the kiss.

The rising intensity is evident from the way his hand travels up her back as he bends forward into the kiss, making her arch and the stretch feels like heaven to her spine. All that boredom slouch sure did some damage.

"(y/n)..." Hyun Su whispers into the kiss when they separate for breath but it doesn't take longer than 5 seconds before he seizes her lips again- overwhelming the other.

With hands against his chest, she gently pushes. "Hyun Su, I can't breathe."

And he quickly glides away. His wing just popped out and now he's about a few metres away. He has a look of panic and is apologetic as he repents on his passionate behaviour.

(y/n) instantly breaks out laughing at his reaction and the sight and sound of her joy remind Hyun Su of how much of an impact she has in his life. In fact, she just might be the reason for everything.

She's the only light for him in this cruel, dark world; the only breath of fresh air and just the thought of never being able to see her again was worse than being dead. She's everything to him- although, he hopes that he isn't hers. Because in the end, he's still a monster and she's a human, she deserves to be with someone better.

But for now, there's no harm in enjoying their time together, is there?

A squeak emits from (y/n) when she's suddenly levitating above the ground and is brought spinning in his hold. Giggles and soft laughter fill the air- fanning away any tension and weight of their shoulders.

"What's this suddenly, huh?" (y/n) titters and Hyun Su smiles up brightly at her.

"I’m just happy that you’re here. Finally, you’re here.”

‘With me.’ copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Genre: angst.

Warnings: mostly language.

Words: 3k or so.

Summary: Y/N and Azriel can't stand each other, despite the centuries working together they just don't seem to understand one another. Too many secrets are being kept. But that bond between them keeps pushing, demanding, making it impossible to ignore.

Author note: the summary sucks, I should work on it later.

Chapter One?

I could hardly see anything past the blinding white rage in my vision as I stalked through the streets of Velaris on my way back to the House of Wind. How dare he?!

“Is it business or pleasure?” Azriel purred maliciously, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. 

Rhys’s face went pale with stupor but he snapped out of it fast enough to stop me from snatching the Shadow singer’s eyeballs with my bare hands. 

He should have let me land that blow. Violet eyes turned soft on my face even as he commanded in all his Mighty High Lord voice for Azriel to get the fuck out. 

Fucking miserable Illyrian bastard. Breathing deeply through my nose I measured the distance between myself and the steps of the stairs up to the House, and then started sprinting for it. Maybe the aching of my lungs would numb the rising anger that occupied my thoughts.  

The sun was shining brightly in the sky by the time I reached the training zone. Cassian was already at it with a punching bag, hair loose, shirt already discarded and sweat dripping from his forehead. He kept shoving strands of hair that fell into his eyes out of the way in between punches, an exasperated huff leaving his parted lips. A prominent vein popped into his neck as a result of the effort and strength with which he was landing hit after hit, wings tucked in tight, he looked stressed. Tough night for the both of us then. 

 I approached him as silently as a wraith, not wanting to disturb his session and starting my stretchings. 

“You’re late.” He greeted me. He’d probably been up since before  dawn. 

“You can thank your brother for that.” I replied shifting my weight from one leg to the other. He stopped punching and grinned at me, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Which one?”

I rolled my eyes. “Which one do you think?”. 

“Az is giving you a hard time again, huh?”

“Isn’t he always? You know it was supposed to be a quick meeting, we had to report to Rhys about last week, take the new mission and leave. But of course Azriel had to be a huge pain in the ass again by pleading to leave me behind because I “complicate things”, which only means I do put to use my critical thinking and not just blindly follow his every command.”

Cass chuckled at my evident irritation with the Shadowsinger. “You know, Az can be entitled sometimes but he knows what he’s doing…listening to him from time to time can’t be that bad now, can it?”

“I know Cass, he’s Spy Master for a reason, I know he’s a great spy, but so am I. And he doesn’t seem to want to see it. I too have some good ideas, I’ve saved both our asses several times now, but he just won't acknowledge it. It is his way or the hard way every single time, I’m just tired of trying to prove myself to him.” 

The rich brown surrounding Cassian’s irises looks like molten chocolate in the late morning as his gaze softens on me. I hate to look vulnerable but I guess if it’s going to be in front of anyone, who better than Cass? This huge scary looking warrior that was actually just a big loving teddy bear. Cassian was my best friend, the one who knows my secrets and fears and desires and has never judged me or pitied me for it. Not once. 

"You don't need to prove anything. You've done more than enough time and time again, if he doesn't see it then he's a giant fool." 

“Thank gods I’ve got you, who would burst my ego like that if not you, huh?.”

He flashed one of his radiant smiles at me and I motioned for him to come closer. Once he stood in front of me I made him turn and sit at my feet, quickly grabbing hold of his locks and braiding his hair back. 

Cassian was one of the first ones to warm up to me and make me feel welcome besides Rhys. It was easy with him, always ready to make me laugh and help ease my process of adjusting to life in Velaris. He quickly became my best friend.

When I first got here I was stuck in the mountains for six whole years with Amren before I could even interact with the rest of the Inner Circle. A safety measure for all, of course, I was unstable in many ways after escaping that hideous place they call the Court of Nightmares. I needed space to heal, and to learn how to control my powers. Rhys came and went very often, he took the time to actually teach me how to put a leash on my power –being quite similar to his– and to bend it to my will, but it wasn’t until years later that I officially met everyone. It was awkward at first, I didn’t know much about socializing given that my only interactions were with the stoic Amren and even before that I’ve only ever met the cruelness of my family; but Mor was excited to see me again when Rhys brought me to Velaris and Cassian greeted me with a big fat grin and open arms. Azriel on the other hand…the spymaster had intrigued me since the very first moment we’d met, lurking in a corner, his shadows hovering over his shoulders and curling up to his head, hiding the lines of his beautiful face. Mesmerizing. He seemed intrigued as well at first, hazel eyes assessing me with intensity. I honestly don’t know when everything went downhill with him, but now we just can’t stand each other. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I said after a couple of heartbeats had passed in silence between us.

“About what?”

“Uh-uh, not playing dumb with me.”

“Is this what we do now? braid each other’s hair and talk about our problems?” He tried to dismiss the subject by playing funny.  

“Well, you’re always pestering me to talk about my problems, so I figured I should do the same” I grinned down at him. 

“There was a time when we fixed our issues in other ways,” he said suggestively, waving his eyebrows.  

“If you want to get absolutely hammered at Rita’s I may be down to it, but not tonight. If I show up completely pissed tomorrow Azriel’s gonna lose it, and honestly I don’t want to deal with his bullshit for even a minute longer than necessary.” I hissed the last words as a sharp twinge of pain shot through my head. 

Cassian’s eyes fixed on my face, worry staining his golden orbs as he stood towering over me. He cupped my chin so that I was looking up at him now, his gaze falling to the dark circles under my eyes. 

“The nightmares again,” he stated more than questioned. “They can’t reach you here, dove.” His tone was softer. 

“I know, Cass. It wasn’t the nightmares this time, I’ve been…having these dreams of places that I don’t recognize, people that I don’t know and there’s always so much suffering. I wake up feeling drained of energy and totally confused. I don’t know what it means.”

Weird, blurry images of last night’s dream came flooding into my mind. Darkness and smoke, the ashy taste of fire filled my senses and made me dizzy. All I could see were the outlines of white hair and twirling swoops of black ink very similar to the tattoos on Cassian’s chest. An ancient language that I didn’t understand. 

“Maybe you should stop reading so many of those weird books of yours,” he smirked, easing the crease of my eyebrows “Have you been eating well?”

I shook out of my trance and stepped back out of his hold, adopting a fighting stance in the middle of the ring. “Enough of me anyways. What 's up with you? you seem stressed, did something happen with Nesta?” I said throwing the first punch, he dodged it.  

“No. I got into a fight with Devlon yesterday, he’s been playing us for fools and the females have not been training at all.” 

“You went to the Illyrian camps? I thought you were gonna wait for me, you know I love to spook the shit out of that misogynistic pig.” I grinned at him. 

“I was but then you had that mission with Az and then the meetings and reports, I just didn’t want to burden you any further. Besides, you’re rarely around these days. You know, for two people who supposedly can’t stand each other you spent an awful amount of time together.” He smirked. 

“Yeah well, we work together, it’s not like we have a choice. Though Azriel really puts in the effort to try and get rid of me.” 

“What did Rhys say?”

“That I was going on the mission and that was final.” 

Cass chuckled and some of the tension was lifted from my shoulders, his mere presence was comforting enough for me to relax a bit. I have had a massive headache all morning, I was barely able to concentrate on what Rhys was saying above the urging desire to bang my head against the nearest wall. 

"I can tell when you're not telling me something, you know? It's not just the weird dreams is it?" 

I sighed tiredly and dropped my arms to the side, clearly we weren't going to any further in training lest I spilled it all out for him. 

"Azriel suggested that I was having an affair with someone from the Hewn City, and while he was at it he also kind of accused me of treason." 

The General 's jaw tensed. He knew the Hewn City and anything remotely involved to that nightmare of a place has always been a touchy subject for me, being born as I was — a female with the power of a High Lord — meant an open invitation for challenge and dominance. It had cost me almost everything at a very young age. The mere suggestion that I may hold a secret agenda with the snakes that prowl around the power of the crown made my ire burn like a thousand suns. It also made me nauseous, I sure wasn't as horrible as Azriel made me out to be.

"Someone clearly needs to knock some sense into him." He gave me a look that promised trouble, rolling his toned shoulders and spreading his huge wings wide. 

"Forget it Cass, you said it yourself, I don't need to prove anything. Besides, Rhys knows the truth so I'm clear." 

He didn’t say anything else and just followed me back to the ring. Good. I have had enough of Azriel anyways. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

“I have a lead!” I said bursting through Rhysand’s office at the River House, arms full of maps with annotations. Lucien hot on my heels. 

The High Lord turned in his seat to take a look at me, then at Lucien and back at me, one dark eyebrow arched high in question. Mere seconds later I felt a talon slide gently across my mental shield, asking for permission. I granted him access. 

“Does Lucien know what this is all about?” his voice sounded in my head. 

“Just that I’ve been hunting down a group of slavers. He offered some insight when he saw me looking for connections between Spring and Night Courts.” 

It wasn’t entirely a lie, we have been investigating the disappearance of fae females for the past year now, I had first noticed it one night when I was sneaking some of them out of the Hewn City to a Shelter in the outskirts of Velaris. Only Rhys and I knew about it. I just couldn’t leave those poor women to suffer as I had in that horrible place, but it was too risky, and as much as Rhys has been doing some political changes concerning the Night Court, it still was a very complex matter. So we investigated thoroughly about whom we would be bringing to our home. Just a few at a time, Rhys had said, we can’t risk bringing spying eyes here, and a large group of females vanishing into the night will certainly attract Kier’s attention back to us. 

A couple of months ago, the group I was supposed to escort out went missing. There wasn’t a whisper of them in the entirety of the Court of Nightmares, and the female servants were too afraid to speak. I just knew someone had been watching me, it had been a warning and a message. Stay out of our business. 

He nodded, then spoke out loud. “What did you find?” 

“Well I think they may be using the remnants of the Spring Court as some sort of Warehouse or… storage.” 

The thought alone of what those faeries may be enduring down there had my hands curling into fists, knuckles going white. “Since Tamlin’s left there aren't really many rules standing, his people have been barely subsisting; it is not that uncommon that in times of need people tend to turn against their own.” 

Lucien’s face was grim, probably remembering what had happened and his role in it. He blinked twice, then said, “they could be using the rivers and the caves to get in and out without being noticed” he offered; “just like I used to do to get out of Autumn. I marked the rivers that flow closest to the caves and the closest villages. People may know something, maybe they'll turn their eyes from it if it’s convenient for them.” 

Rhysand leaned forward, studying the maps and annotations closely. “Good work, Y/N, Lucien. This is a start. We need to investigate this further and put a stop to it before more fae are taken.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of determination settle within me. We couldn't let this go on any longer. No more innocent lives taken or families torn apart.

I knew I was taking some risks with this, but I also knew that we couldn't let fear stop us from doing what was right. I would do whatever it takes to end this.

“We need to find out everything we can about this operation and shut it down. I can gain some time and winnow there tonight, for some ground recognition.” 

Rhysand stood up from his desk, tired and with a look of wariness written on his face, “ I would wait until Azriel returns from his meeting, then you can go together.” 

“I can very well do this on my own, Rhys. I’m not stupid and I’m very capable of taking care of myself.” I argued back. 

He looked reluctant at first, but he loosened a breath and said “I know you can. Lay low, gather whatever information you can but do not engage until Azriel arrives, understood? I’ll be sending him tomorrow morning.” 

“Fine” I said, rolling my eyes. But he went on, in that brotherly voice that always got me following his commands. 

“And be careful, we don't know what kind of forces we're dealing with here.”

I nodded and gave him a small smile. As we left the office, I couldn't help but think about Azriel. He would be on this mission with me, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. But, for the sake of the mission and the fae that had been taken, we had to put our differences aside and work together.

“Thank you, Lucien” I said, fully facing the Autumn male, “I know you wouldn’t reveal information that could be used against your friend or his court. So thank you, for trusting me with this.” 

He seemed rather surprised for a second, eyes shining in the dim light,  but then a smirk cut on his lips. “I trust  you, little raven, I thought I’ve made that clear.” 

I smiled back at him. “Well yeah, but thank you anyways, I know you don’t get to hear those words around here very often.” I teared my gaze away from him into the open night beyond. I should leave soon. 

“I won’t keep you from your duties much longer” He said, shoving back a few strands of that auburn hair that had loosened from where he had pinned them to the side. “Stay safe Y/N, and if you thank me again you better start bowing next time” Lucien flashed a foxy grin as he started walking towards the house. 

I couldn’t help the chuckle from leaving my lips. “As you wish, good night Prince Charming.” 

I heard his breathy laugh even as I winnowed out of the city.  

—----------------------------------------------------------

The morning sun was rising over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the lush greenery of the Spring Court border. I was standing just outside the small inn I booked for the night, waiting for Azriel to arrive. I hadn’t found anything particularly shady last night, yet I couldn't help but feel uneasy about it. The whole village felt out of place. 

Azriel arrived on his shadow wings, landing gracefully in front of me. His black wings contrasted sharply with the bright blue sky, making him look even more intimidating than usual. "Let's go," he said curtly, motioning for me to follow him.

“Good morning to you too” I murmured under my breath; if he heard it or not he didn’t tell. 

We flew over the sprawling countryside, searching for any sign of the illegal trade. After hours of fruitless searching, we landed in a small village. The villagers looked tired and scared, their faces etched with worry lines. I made to approach one of the villagers and ask if they knew anything about people going missing these days.

The villager shook his head. "We don't know anything about it. Our High Lord abandoned us a few months ago, and we've been struggling to survive ever since. Some have left for other courts, it is not unusual to find this place so quiet."

That was a fact, I had spotted caravans moving across Prythian as I traveled through the courts. Entire families leaving their homeland behind in search of a better chance at survival. This place once full of life was really starting to look like an abandoned graveyard, drying lands and growing thorn bushes taking place. Where the hell had Tamlin gone?

Azriel's face darkened with anger. "This was a waste of time," he muttered. "We should never have come here."

A twinge of guilt crept up my spine. I knew it was a blind shot to try and find them here, but other than the utter state of abandonment of this court, I still had the feeling that something was off. There was this wrongness in the air. 

I dared another look in the direction of the villager but he was already gone. Weird. If Azriel wanted to leave then fine, I’ll investigate further on my own. 

Hours later as I walked through the village, I noticed a pair of eyes staring at me, following me around in the shadows. At first I thought Azriel had sent his shadows after me but…it didn’t feel like him. I neared the edge of a dense wood and turned to approach those watching cold eyes, my right hand flying to the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh. They seemed to narrow in silent mockery and as I stepped through the bushes I was met with nothing but a lingering darkness. What in hell had that been? 

I returned to the village, searching for Azriel, to tell him what I had seen. "There's definitely something going on here."

Azriel sighed, “I’ll tell you what’s going on here” he started coolly, “Their fucking coward of a High Lord bailed on his own people and now they’re trying to survive with the little they have left still standing, there are probably shadow markets functioning across the court for those who still remain and try to sell their goods for food. They don’t need two Night Court scouts snooping around their business so no one here is going to talk. That's what is happening here. No signs of your supposed “group of slavers”. People leave on their own accord to avoid starvation.”  

He stared down his nose at me “Are you done playing your stupid game here? I told you we should have headed for Autumn. Now let’s go, we need to report back to Rhysand; I’ll love to hear how you will explain to him that you wasted both our time and his resources on a hunch.” 

I didn’t want to show him that his words had sting, that it still affected me how little trust he had in me, in my capability, but my mouth went faster than my gathering thoughts:  

"Why do you have to be such an asshole to me all the time?", my temper quickly rising to the surface, undoubtedly twisting my face in anger, sliping past my usual mask of boredness. 

“Someone has to tell you the truth to your face at last.”

“What does that mean?” I said almost snarling at his cocky face. 

“It means you’re not as good as you think you are, and no one seems to want to acknowledge it. I think Rhys spoils you too much. He handles everything on a silver platter for you and you rejoice in the riches of it like you’ve earned it. You're not his fucking sister! No one can ever replace her, what you're doing it's just awful. And he's so damn blind to it.”

Every word felt like a dagger to my heart. I've rather had him skin me alive than to hear those words again. Of course I wasn't Rhys's sister, although I do love him like a brother, but I hadn't meant in any way to come off as a replacement for her. It just felt right, to be a part of a family for once that I hadn't thought twice about my relationship with Rhysand. Does he feel like he needs to cover my needs just because he couldn’t do it with her before? Because he feels guilty? Has he been giving tasks just to excuse the amount of money he pays me? 

I stumbled one step, two steps back away from him. From his space, so dense and thick with loathing it was suffocating. I leashed my anger, spiraling down into that pit of numbness I was so familiar with as I said, with a face as blank and unreadable as his own, “I’ll give him the full report. And don’t worry, I’ll pay him back every last copper that I know I owe to him if it means I’ll never have to see you again.” 

It was the venom laced in her voice that had Azriel backing off this time, a twinge of pain and guilt flashing in his eyes but she had already winnowed away. 

[mintyys-blog]

Sam Wilson x Reader: BFB

WARNINGS: none

The sun hung low in the sky as you sat on the porch of Sam’s family home, a cold drink in hand, and your best friend’s laughter ringing through the air. You had been coming to Louisiana for years, ever since you and Sarah had met in college. It had become a second home to you, this cozy place filled with warmth, both literally and figuratively. Sam had never been around much, always caught up in the Avengers’ whirlwind of missions, but when he was, it felt like everything had fallen into place.

Sarah had always teased you about your growing affection for her brother, but you kept it buried deep down. Sam was her older brother, and as close as you were to Sarah, the idea of crossing that line felt impossible. Besides, he was a hero, constantly busy, and you were happy just being a friend, right?

Yet, there was always something about Sam that tugged at your heartstrings. The way he could make even mundane tasks feel special, the quiet moments when he’d sit with you on the porch, watching the sunset without saying a word but somehow understanding each other perfectly.

This evening, like every evening during your visit, was no different. Sarah was inside, finishing up dinner, while Sam and you sat outside on the porch swing, the creak of the old wood soothing in its familiarity. He had his boots kicked up, and you leaned your head back against the swing, savoring the peaceful silence.

“You okay?” Sam asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

You glanced over at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at the horizon. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

Sam gave a soft chuckle, turning his head to the side as if studying you. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.” His gaze lingered for a second, then he stood, stretching. “You sure everything’s alright?”

You nodded, even though it wasn’t entirely true. Lately, there was a restlessness in your chest, a feeling you couldn’t shake. Something had shifted in you since you’d arrived in Louisiana, something that was too difficult to admit. You didn’t want to make things weird with Sam, not when you enjoyed these quiet moments so much.

“I’m fine, Sam,” you assured him, but the lie didn’t sit well with you.

Sam didn’t seem convinced. He knew you too well for that. “Okay… but if you need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

You smiled, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I know.”

He returned the smile, but there was a slight hesitation in his expression, something unreadable. Before either of you could say anything more, Sarah appeared in the doorway, holding a plate of food.

“Dinner’s ready! Y’all better not be out here talking about anything too deep. I don’t need y’all getting all emotional on me tonight.”

You laughed, and Sam rolled his eyes, standing up to follow his sister inside. As you stood to follow them, your gaze briefly lingered on Sam’s back, a sense of longing pulling at your chest.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Dinner was always a lively affair at the Wilson household. Sarah’s infectious laugh and Sam’s teasing made it impossible to sit in silence, and even though you felt like something was building between you and Sam, you tried to push those thoughts aside. You could sense the way Sam looked at you sometimes, and you didn’t know how to interpret it. Was it more than just a brotherly fondness? Or was it all in your head?

The evening slipped by in a comfortable blur—Sarah had made her famous gumbo, and the conversation moved from light banter to deeper topics as the evening wore on. Sam, always the protector, found himself defending his recent decision to turn down an offer for a big job in D.C. You watched, a quiet smile on your face, as Sarah and Sam bickered back and forth about whether the decision was a smart one.

“I think you made the right choice,” you piped up, offering your opinion.

Sam looked at you, a little surprised. “You do, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I think you’ve done your part. And you deserve to be here, with family.”

Sarah shot you a teasing look. “Look at you, all supportive. You should be his publicist, not just his best friend.”

You blushed at the thought, but Sam just laughed, running a hand through his hair. “You really think that?”

You nodded. “Of course. Louisiana suits you. You’re good here.”

Sam didn’t say anything right away, but you could see the warmth in his eyes. Maybe you were imagining it, but there was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight. It was subtle, but it was there—an unspoken understanding between the two of you that hadn’t been there before.

Later that night, after Sarah had gone to bed and the house had quieted down, Sam and you found yourselves once again outside, sitting on the same porch swing. This time, there was no pretense, no distractions. Just the two of you in the cool night air, the soft sounds of crickets in the background.

Sam shifted slightly, his elbow brushing against yours, and the small contact sent a jolt through you. You both fell into a comfortable silence, neither of you sure what to say next.

Finally, Sam broke the quiet. “You’ve been distant lately. I know you say you’re fine, but you don’t have to hide it from me.”

You turned to look at him, caught off guard by his words. “I’m not hiding anything, Sam. I swear.”

He met your eyes, his gaze steady but soft. “You don’t have to keep pretending, you know. I can tell when something’s off. You can talk to me.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. How did he always manage to see right through you?

“I just…” You hesitated, unsure of how to put it into words. “I don’t know, Sam. Sometimes, I feel like I’m stuck in a rut. Everything’s just… fine. But not really.”

He nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. I’ve been there. But you know, things don’t always stay that way. You’ve got the strength to get through it.”

You gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Maybe. But it doesn’t always feel that way.”

Sam studied you for a long moment, then slowly reached over, gently placing his hand over yours. His touch was warm, grounding, and you felt an unexpected flutter in your chest.

“You don’t have to do it alone, you know,” he said quietly.

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His hand was still resting on yours, the closeness of it making your heart race.

You were acutely aware of every little detail—the way the moonlight bathed his face, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the soft hum of the night surrounding you both.

And then, in the quiet that followed, something shifted.

You knew this was it—the line you’d been dancing around for months, the line you’d never crossed because you weren’t sure if it was worth the risk. But now, looking at Sam, you realized that maybe, just maybe, it was.

He wasn’t pulling away. His hand lingered on yours, his eyes still locked with yours, as if waiting for something—waiting for you.

You opened your mouth to say something, but words caught in your throat. Sam’s thumb brushed lightly over your hand, and you could feel the pull between you, the unspoken connection that had always been there, but now seemed to have grown stronger.

“I… I don’t know what this is, Sam,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I don’t want to ruin it. Whatever ‘it’ is.”

Sam’s expression softened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low and steady. “You’re not going to ruin anything, (Y/N). We’re in this together, whatever it is.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly closed the distance, your faces just inches apart now. The air between you seemed charged, the tension palpable.

For a moment, you both hesitated, but then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Sam leaned in and kissed you.

It was slow, tentative at first, like neither of you knew what this moment meant, but both of you were willing to find out. The kiss deepened as you both melted into each other, the world outside of this porch, outside of this moment, fading away completely.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, Sam gave you a small, uncertain smile.

“I don’t want to ruin this either, (Y/N),” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together.

[queenharumiura]

Send my muse a name and they will answer “Yes or No” to the following. Kurapika!

[Original] || @skarletchains I like to do extra things, so under readmore is some explanations.

Is (Kurapika) Someone You:

• Would Kiss: Yes

• Would Date: Yes

• Would Make Friends With: Yes

• Would Adopt: No

• Would Marry: [Haru pretended she didn't see the question]

• Would Sleep With: Yes

• Would Live With: Yes

• Would Cuddle With: Yes

• Would Fight With: Yes

• Would Trust: Yes

• Would Dance With: Yes

• Would Bathe With: //squints Yes?

• Would Die For: ... Yes

• Would Ignore: No

• Would Not Care For: No

• Would Laugh At: Yes?

• Would Cry With: Yes

• Would Cry For: Yes

-

Explanations

Is (Kurapika) Someone You:

• Would Kiss: Kisses on the cheek, the forehead, etc count for this answer so yes.

• Would Date: Why not? There are all sorts of dates, platonic, familial, etc.

• Would Make Friends With: She thinks they could be friends if not already.

• Would Adopt: Given his goal in life, and the fact that he's a young adult, she doesn't believe he'd want to be adopted by someone- so no.

• Would Marry: At current, this isn't a realm of possibility. Who knows what could happen in the future based off dynamics-- but it's probably lower on the possibility scale. Haru is mindful of the age gap between them being 5 years and would believe that he wouldn't be interested in someone 5 years his senior so she'd not think of anything in relation to romance. IF they were to be married, he'd basically have to smack her with "Stop being in denial and understand that I AM interested in you'' before she gets it.

• Would Sleep With: I mean, surely they had to share a room together at one point during her travels. That counts, does it not? As for what I'm sure this actually entails, I don't think so? It could be subject to change depending on their dynamic as we interact more, maybe? At current, she just sees him as her bodyguard that she employs every so often. She doesn't have any untoward thoughts. Could change or maybe not. It's all up to the RP gods to see where dynamics shift kekw.

• Would Live With: Depending on the length of the missions, they may have had to live with each other for a bit.

• Would Cuddle With: To us, cuddles and hugs aren't that dissimilar form each other. If he allowed it, she'd love to give him hugs. If he was feeling down and needed comfort, she'd offer him hugs. As such, yes, she'd cuddle him.

• Would Fight With: Perhaps they'd argue about some things between bodyguard and protected. I don't think she'd actively try to actually fight Kurapika, no. I can see her fighting alongside WITH him, however. In this verse, she's not the sort to just sit back and be protected. She does try to have a more active role in keeping her life in tact.

• Would Trust: Sure would suck to not trust your bodyguard LOL

• Would Dance With: No reason to say no to this.

• Would Bathe With: Given the bathing culture... I could see this as a reality that could indeed happen, like at an onsen or something. She'd avoid it as much as possible if she could, but it's not something she'd deem impossible.

• Would Die For: ... //shifty eye movement I mean... yeah would be very stupid for her to die for him when he's her bodyguard, huh? Still, Haru is truly a person who sometimes acts first before thinking and it's almost always related to her feeling protective towards someone. She has the tendency to want to protect others, especially those younger than her. I do see it in the realm of possibility that if she thought Kurapika would die, she'd try to prevent that. Impulsive and instinctual on her part, really. Would be bad for her to do so, but-- she moved before she could think!

• Would Ignore: She wouldn't ignore him, that's rude.

• Would Not Care For: She cares for him, so she couldn't no care for him. (Hopefully I understood that right and worded it right? I'm getting myself confused)

• Would Laugh At: Would she laugh in a mean-hearted way? No. Would she giggle at something small like he has a lil moustache after drinking hot cocoa or something? Yeah.

• Would Cry With: She can be a pretty sympathetic person and if someone around her cries, she may try with them.

• Would Cry For: Assuming something happened to him like he's hospitalized because of her or worse- he died-- she'd cry for him, yeah.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Love - Hate game.

Summary: Eddie and y/n can't stand each other, so why do they keep sleeping together and why the hell is he suddenly so weird about her friendship with Steve Harrington?

Warnings: Fluff, Jealous Eddie, and kinda enemies to lovers. Mutual pining, Swearing. I'm writing this while trying to beat my current insomnia so I apologise if there are any grammar mistakes, 18+

Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome ❤ I do not give anyone permission to copy my work 💫💞

She sees Eddie walking down the hallways of the school, he's with his group of friends, the Hellfire Club and acting up for them.

Rolling her eyes she smooths down her cheerleading outfit and he smirks as he sees her making it his mission to piss her off.

Something he succeeds in daily.

"Princess, is that little scowl all for me?".

Asshole.

"Screw you, Munson". His eyes light up at her comeback and he nudges his friend Gareth and the freshman who follows him around and hangs on his every word, who's also Steve's friend Dustin Henderson.

"See that flush in her skin boys? The way she's looking, think she has a crush on me huh?". She seethes inside and he walks up to her.

"You wish. Given the fact it's your fucking mission to irritate me to death". He plays with a stray lock of her hair and leans in to whisper in her ear.

"Maybe you forgot you were just screaming my name last night princess?". Tingles erupt inside her and she glares at him.

"Bite me". His eyes darken with lust and she hates that she feels it too and he has to be so hot with the leather jacket, those gorgeous brown eyes, tattoos and give no fucks attitude.

He was sexy as hell and he knew it and she was hooked on him.

"Happily". He saunters off and throws her a wink as he goes, she waits a semi-appropriate time to follow him out to his van.

💖

These hookups weren't meant to happen. She just remembers her and Eddie having an argument one day over something she can't even remember and then they were kissing.

The kissing was incredible and it led to mind-blowing sex. They pretended it didn't happen for like a day and then the next day he was taking her up against a tree in the woods near the school where no one could hear their moans.

It had been going on for weeks, they would argue, end up kissing, have sex and lather, rinse repeat.

She hated how much she wanted him and hated how she would bury herself in his arms longing to be close to him.

How he would hold her and stroke her hair and they would talk to the early hours in his trailer then go right back to antagonising each other in the hallways at school or when she was with her friends happily discussing graduation and guys.

Her friends didn't know that he had stolen her heart, even if she tried to deny it because he was a freak and she was popular and they shouldn't mix.

It was all bullshit.

He didn't feel the same, she knew that it was just sex to him, she wishes she could be so nonchalant about her feelings.

That maybe one day, against all odds he would want to be with her too.

Impossible reality she told herself and they would carry on fighting and kissing and making up while she buried thoughts of happy endings.

Acting like she couldn't stand him when in all honesty he's all she thought about.

💖

"Asshole". She shoots at him playfully as he wraps his arms around her kissing her neck and pulling her into the room where he plays D and D.

"Hello to you beautiful". She nuzzles into his arms and he smiles, a gentle moment between them that she adores.

"You're my asshole". He chuckles and nips at her ear, he settles on his throne and she perches on his knee.

"Will you teach me to play sometime?". He looks surprised at her ask but quickly nods.

"Of course sweetheart, whenever you want".

The door opens and she hears the gaggle of the Hellfire crew and her stomach falls, she gets up and once again it's back to the usual pretence they put on in front of the others.

"You are the most annoying man I've ever met Eddie Munson". ( You are but I still adore you)

His eyes look sad and she briefly wonders if he feels the same and misses his insult.

Off her game, she "storms" out hating having to fake that she despises him.

💖

"I have to go". She tells Eddie lost in his kisses and he pulls her closer moving to her neck and eliciting soft moans from her as he pulls her back on his bed.

"Stay". He grunts and she wants to, god she does but she's meeting Steve and it's movie night with him and Robin.

She's been trying to tell him that but he's been so charming and his kisses have a habit of driving the thoughts from her mind.

"Eddie, I'm meeting Steve". He stops kissing her then and there's a strange look on his features.

"Harrington?". She nods and brushes her hair which is all messy and her lips feel a little swollen and kiss bitten.

"For movie night". He moves away nodding and suddenly he's very cold.

"Eddie?". He shrugs on his shirt and kisses her briefly.

"You better go then". He heads out of his room leaving her feeling very confused by his sudden mood change.

✨🔥

She can't concentrate on the movie and she makes excuses to leave after the first pissed at Eddie for ruining her night.

That's how she ends up back at his trailer wanting to know what's wrong with him.

He's with two clients, pretty ones and her anger grows as he's all charming and cute with them but sour to her.

When they leave her anger has built to a crescendo and she huffs.

"Why are you so mad at me? What did I do? You're all charming with those girls but off with me".

He sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm not interested in them y/n. Shouldn't you be with Steve?". It's the way he says Steve that has her pissed off.

"Steve is my friend, god you drive me crazy" He nods annoyed.

"We agree on something then". He tells her and she's still annoyed by his attitude.

"Yeah, because you annoy the shit out of me and yet we still kiss, and have sex despite that".

His next words really hurt.

"Yeah, well maybe this was a fucking mistake". He barks at her and she didn't expect to feel so broken at those words.

Mistake. Tears blur in her eyes and his widen, he takes a step towards her and she sniffs wiping at the wetness.

"Fine". She yells back and storms out of his trailer with tears running down her cheeks and a broken heart straight into a building storm.

Eddie follows her out and she ignores his calls fighting against the wind and the rain.

"Baby come back. It's going to storm badly". He catches up to her and she doesn't look at him still crying and slips on the wet leaves

He pulls her to his chest, catching her before she falls.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry princess. You drive me crazy but fuck I can't stop thinking about you and you being mine and I was jealous of Steve".

She stops struggling and peers up at him stunned. He was jealous?

"You are incredible and this isn't a mistake sweetheart". She sniffs and cuddles into him.

"You were all nice to those other girls and just cold to me Ed's". He softens and the rain soaks them both but they don't seem to care lost in the moment.

"I wasn't the least bit interested baby, I want you. Shit when we argue and your eyes flash and you yell at me and you look so beautiful, I want you.

"When you are sweet, soft and sleepy in the mornings and you think you look like shit, which is impossible by the way I want you".

"I adore you sweetheart and I'm falling in love with you and that dream you have of travelling over the States, road trips and shit that we talked about a while back all I want is to be with you by your side".

He kisses her and it's raining harder now but she's lost in the epic kiss, she breaks away heartache gone completely.

"I'm falling for you too Eddie, I want you with me too, imagine it. Just you and I". He nods resting his forehead against hers.

"I want to hold your hand and kiss you at school and fuck what anyone says because it is you and me and I don't give a shit what anyone says". She agrees and kisses him again.

"Come on, let's get inside". She follows him back to the trailer and he searches out dry clothes, she's soon cosy in his shirt, in his bed with his arms wrapped around her.

Movie night happens after all and it's her and Eddie's first official date as a couple.

💖

As always likes, reblogs, etc are wonderful and I appreciate them so much. 💖

[verityswritings]

Yandere Belphegor Headcanons

⚠️mentions of lesson 16 spoilers⚠️

TW: Yandere Content

I’m filled with hatred for Belphie, so this might reflect that 💀

I think he’d be aware of his extremely strong feelings for you, honestly I don’t think he’d be too happy with you about it at the beginning. When he first realized when he develops feelings, he’d probably just be like “oh :/”because you’re a human? Like he’s so much stronger and better than you and yet he’s obviously so down bad? He’s feels like he’s embarrassing himself honestly.

But then he’d realize just how much his brothers like you too, (for the sake of this post they aren’t yanderes too because this post is just about Belphie) but Belphie realizes he’s definitely got competition for you now. And then he’d definitely become jealous because hello? He’s very obviously the best and only choice here?

Que him trying to spend lots of extra time with you and claiming it’s only because he hasn’t gotten to spend as much time with you as his brothers. And you’d probably believe him because why else would he be trying to spend all this time with you? He wants to spend time with you so he can make sure you know how amazing he is. Definitely trying to make up for the whole murdering you thing and is trying to paint himself in a better light.

Watch Beel try too hard to be the best wingman he can when he realizes Belphie has feelings for you. He probably realized very early on too since the twins know each other very well. Beel probably thinks he’s being really subtle about it, but it’s very obvious to everyone including you. Truthfully, he embarrasses Belphie and you more than he helps, but Belphie appreciates the thought. Beel just wants his twin to be happy so of course he has to help you two get together!

Belphie would be really manipulative and would probably even get Beel to help him with it sometimes. He just needs to show you that you only need him! Well with Beel as an exception of course! Why don’t you want to spend extra time with Belphie and hang out with him? That’s unfair considering the amount of time you’ve spent with the others. How come you don’t want to always partner up with him during class? But he always does his best working with you? You want him to fail his classes now huh? Why don’t you want to take a 4 hour nap with him? You’re basically saying you don’t want to spend time with him anymore. You’re being so unreasonable and cruel to him.

He strikes me as the possessive type. He’s most certainly very possessive because of his brothers. I mean they just get in his way all the time. Although there’s not really all that much he do about his brothers tbh. Like he can try to distract them so they won’t focus on you or try to pull mean pranks on them like he does Lucifer, but he’ll probably just get punished for it by Lucifer. Belphie can try to find ways to get you not to spend with them and he can be as passive aggressive about it to everyone as he wants, but it’s impossible for him to succeed in his mission of showing you he’s the only one you need. All the brothers are just like “wtf are you doing🧍‍♀️”

So Belphie would be pretty salty about it, he was sure his mission was gonna be successful! Now he knows being possessive isn’t gonna work its magic so now he thinks being clingy might do the trick. How are you gonna spend time alone with the brothers and pick them as your favorite if Belphie always invites himself there huh? Fool proof plan >:)

Doesn’t work either honestly. Sometimes Belphie can’t even be bothered to follow you because he’s too tired and that’s so much work. Even if he does follow you, he can’t stay awake too long. Giving the brothers opportunity to get you away from him. His plans never really work out for him and they are such good plans too!

Now he’s gotta come up with yet another new plan. So if he can’t force you to spend more time with him and following you doesn’t work, then maybe you’d pay attention if he gave you new reasons to pay attention to him? Starts becoming a bizarre seeking type.

Maybe you’ll pay attention now that he starts acting out in strange ways? Maybe you’ll pay attention to him if he intentionally picks fights with his brothers that you’ll have to resolve? What if he gets Beel in on it and gets him to say how oh so upset Belphie has been since you don’t spend time with him anymore? Maybe he just needs to pull some outrageous pranks and piss the whole household off? Sure he’ll be punished severely but you’ll pay attention to him then right?

None of his attempts work out too well because the brothers always put a stop to his schemes and/or punish him for them, but he always tries something and usually gets on everyone’s nerves pretty badly because of it. Honestly, would be a pretty bad yandere if he got his way, but he doesn’t so other than him being extremely passive aggressive all the time he’s really harmless.