#did i almost show that picture to someone by mistake

[silvershewolf247]

Brutal, I love it

Unforgiven.

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[satoruan]

BORED N’ IGNORED w/Jujutsu Kaisean

( TW ) f!reader, explicit content, bored!Sukuna & Toji, Ignored!Gojo & Choso cunnilingus, thigh riding, blow job, humiliation, face fucking, fingering, reader snaps a pic of gojo and sends it to her friend, sub!Choso or is he just a pleasure dom…?

Featuring: Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso Kamo + Toji Fushiguro 

authors note: I re-wrote this like 10 times so pls ignore any mistakes. also, me posting everyone but Geto on his birthday is criminal...

☾ CHOSO KAMO 

“Haha! I got the kill! Finally,” You cheer. “Oh shit, someone's chasing me.” You move your controller, focused on getting yourself to safety, ignoring your boyfriend who's underneath your desk eating you out like a starved man.  

Choso just wants to make you cum. He knows he's in the doghouse for what he did last night so he’s trying to make it up to you. He didn’t know you were going to treat him like some common whore though. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s eating you out on the cold hard floor. He wants to scream but he knows you’d be even more angry, so he makes it his mission to make you cum so hard you have no choice but to talk to him.  

He sucks your clit harder, rubbing his fingers inside your gummy walls. You clench around them but show no sign on the outside that you’re about to cum. He knows his girl though. Knows you better than you know yourself. He smirks into your clit. 

“Shit—oh fuck—they won’t get off my tail—oh my god!” You scream at the game, trying and failing to mask your pleasure. Choso adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you good you almost drop the controller on his head.  

Choso picks up the pace, sucking on your clit so hard he’s scared he might leave a bruise—and finally, you acknowledge him.

“m’gonna cum! Choso!” you cry, reaching down to pull his hair as you cum all over his face.

☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA 

“Look at me!” You cry, kissing up and down his shaft before taking him back into your mouth You go as deep as you can before gagging. You pull back up and suck on his tip. You look up at Sukuna who doesn’t even look affected, staring at the TV. You dig your nails into his thighs. He doesn't react. 

“Kuna!” You scream, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look down at you. He stares at you with disinterest. “What?” 

“Why aren’t you paying attention to me?” You hiccup, sitting back on your knees and grabbing his cock. You squeeze it. 

“You want my attention little one?” He grins down at you. You sniffle and nod, bending down to kiss the tick of his cock. He pats you head and you almost cry in relief.  

“Oh, so damned touch starved—upset ‘ve been ignoring you? I apologize little one. I'll make it up to you.” He grabs your head with both hands, guiding you to his cock. You open your mouth and take him in again. He grunts, pushing you to the hilt even as you gag and try to pull yourself up. He lifts your head back up before slamming it down on his cock. You claw at his thighs. “Giving you all my attention now. Gonna face fuck you ‘til you don’t remember your fucking own name.” 

☾ GOJO SATORU 

Satoru holds onto your thighs as he pushes his leaky cock into you. He needed this so bad after the day he had. He didn’t even pay mind to what you were doing before throwing his clothes off and climbing onto the bed. 

“Fuck—Feel good, Angel?” Gojo questions as he thrusts into you from his place above you. You don’t hear him though, too busy texting your friend about the latest drama that happened in your friend group.  

“Angel, did you hear me?” Satoru moves his hands from your waist to your tits. He pinches hard. You grunt, the grip on your phone wavering. Satoru’s harsh thrusts distract you for a second before you come back to your senses and read your friend's text. ‘Why are you making so many spelling mistakes LOL?’ You grin, clicking the camera and turning it to Satoru who looks down at you half angry and half pussy drunk. You snap a blurry picture of his sweaty abs and V-line before clicking send. Your friend laughs. 

“Angel,” Satoru whines grabbing your phone. “Stop treating me like some crapy dildo machine!” He holds the phone over his head with one hand, the other holding you down by the tummy. 

“Toru! I was having an important conversation,” You moan, wrapping your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his ass. He grunts his heavy hand on your tummy moving to squeeze your side. “Please, baby? Just gotta send one more text then I'm all yours—promise.”  

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 

You hold onto Toji’s bicep as you ride his thigh. You grind your pussy harder onto his leg, making sure your clit drags over the hard material of his pants. You moan and look down at the dark patch your slick is making. 

“Can you quiet down princess? Need to finish this application and you're distracting me.” Toji says, erasing the sentence he knows is incomprehensible. You moan louder. Throwing your head back and arching your tits up in his face. He grunts, turning to the side to rewrite his response.  

You huff, if he wants to play like that. "You better not ask me to get you off later today.” You grumble, moving your own hands up to twist and tug your nipples. Your legs tighten around his thick thigh. You feel yourself getting closer.  You grind down harder, pussy clenching around nothing.  

“Gonna cum! Ahh—feels so good, you feel s’good!” You slur, legs shaking as an orgasm washes over you. You slump down against Toji’s big chest. Toji’s face heats. He doesn't know whether to be pissed off or turned on that you just came all over his thigh like that. He grumbles something inaudible, bringing a hand down to grab a handful of your ass as he presses submit. “Oh, you’re fucking on princess.” 

[natalievoncatte]

There was something decidedly… insistent about Lena’s footsteps. Kara knew it was her, of course, when she picked up Lena heading towards her apartment. Not just her heart rate but her breathing and mumbling to herself and the way she walked, her footfalls painting a picture of how she was walking, and she was mad.

Kara expected a complaint when she opened the door. Lena would sometimes launch without preamble into a rant about this investor or that senator or some such executive at this or that company and just rant adorably, balling her little fists. Kara would never tell her, because she’d feel patronized, but Lena genuinely was cute when she was angry.

Well, annoyed. When she was really angry, throwing a fit angry, fed up with the world angry, she was something else entirely. Kara would move heaven and earth, quite literally, to address whatever bothered her. When she was sad it was even worse and Kara just wanted to bundle her up in her invulnerable arms and shelter her from everything forever.

Lena walked into the apartment, not looking at Kara, and clearly fuming. She dropped the order she’d picked up on the way into the kitchen island and stared at it, then finally glared at Kara. There was no mistaking the subject of her anger.

Kara fidgeted nervously. She shifted on her feet, feeling a pressure of Lena’s gaze that forced her own away.

“Lena? Is something wrong?” She swallowed, hard. “Bad day?”

“Something is wrong,” Lena said, very softly, in the icy tone she reserved for the fools she did not suffer gladly. “Take off your glasses.”

“What?”

“Take off your glasses, Kara.”

“But I can’t see…”

Lena stepped forward and put her hand on the takeout order in its plastic bag. Kara had ordered it and Lena had agreed to pick it up, far from be first time they’d done that. Lena often ordered for them and Kara brought it when Lena was hosting.

Right now Lena was trembling, head tilted forward like she meant to charge, eyes locked on Kara.

“Glasses. Off.”

Kara hesitated briefly.

“Okay,” she muttered, screaming at herself not to do this, pleading for some kind of distraction.

All she wanted to do tonight was curl up with Lena on the couch and watch a movie and focus very very hard on not giving away how badly she wanted to make out with her.

Kara slowly took the earpieces in her hands and slipped them off, setting the too-heavy frames on the table with a soft clunk. The word rushed in, sounds more vibrant and distracting, colors almost unpleasantly sharp.

Lena was staring at her. Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched. She took her hand from the food bag and took another step forward, then another, finally picking up the glasses in her own hand, feeling them. She raised them as if to put them on and stared through them.

“For someone who says she’s blind without them, these glasses don’t have a very strong prescription, do they.”

Possibilities raced through Kara’s mind. Things she could say, things she might do. She’d squeaked out of this before, somehow evaded Lena’s staggering intellect. She had seen curiosity darken her brows, maybe even brief moments of suspicion.

This was different. Heavier. More serious.

“What gave me away?”

“Everything, really. All the pieces were there this whole time, but I just refused to put them together on my own. It took a flat out slap in the face to make me choose to see it.”

Kara’s chest felt like it was caving in. Everything was going wrong. Her chin quivered and the tears began welling hot behind her eyes.

Lena looked at her flatly. “The guy at the take out place asked me why I was picking up Supergirl’s order. I asked him what the hell he was talking about and he told me Supergirl comes on all the time. Then he showed me a selfie.”

Kara licked her lips.

“It has to be a mistake.”

“They have your number on their speed dial as Supergirl, Kara. You let their delivery kid take a selfie in your suit. They wouldn’t let me pay for it. The old lady that owns the place said ‘Supergirls girlfriend, no charge!’ and started laughing.”

Kara stared at her.

“Lena…”

“You better have a good fucking explanation for why your favorite restaurant knows who you really are and not your supposed best friend.”

The tension in their air was palpable, electric. Kara could feel it like the gathering energy in the air before a storm, ready to burst forth with energy and life or mindless destruction. She folded her arms around herself and looked down.

“You do know me,” Kara finally said. “You do know who I really am. You’re the only person who does.”

Lena’s extension was fixed, intense, edging between a scowl and a pout, and Kara realized with a start that she was holding back tears of her own.

“You’re the only person that knows me as me. You know me without Supergirl, but without all the fake stuff I do so people won’t realize I’m Supergirl. I don’t have to pretend to be clumsy with you. You’re not always looking at me like I’m super strong or super fast. I can just be me when I’m with you.”

“You’ve lied to me so many times,” Lena said, after drawing in a deep breath. “Running away from our lunches, telling me wild stories about where you disappear to at work, and I just bought every bit of it. You must think I’m an easy mark.”

“No, never.”

“I’ve always had it in the back of my head. I always thought there was something there, something between us that kept you from really, truly being yourself with me. The way your touches are always so whisper-light and you’re always stealing glances at me. Like you were afraid with every word or movement that you’d give something away.”

“Lena,” Kara began.

“I knew you were hiding something. I had hoped it was something else.”

Kara licked her lips. She quickened her perception, a little trick of will that took her out of sync with the humans around her, processing the world at her natural speed, which made her peers seem almost frozen in place by comparison.

She took this drawn out instant to really look at Lena, truly take her in, savor what she was seeing because it might be the end. She was suddenly heavily, painfully aware that this might be the last time she ever looked on Lena in person.

Great father Rao, she was so beautiful. Not hot or pretty or even gorgeous or sexy, beautiful. She was dressed for the autumn chill in a pea coat and turtleneck and black leggings and her hair was down, letting itself soften into her natural waves. She was without makeup, and Kara suddenly realized that she only ever saw Lena without makeup when she meant to be alone with Kara. When she was her most pure, most true self.

Kara slowed herself again and as she did the world sped up, and she drank in the soft sadness in Lena’s blue-green eyes and all of those things she’d pushed deep down came bubbling to the surface: imagined sighs and the feeling of that lustrous inky hair slipping through her fingers, her name whispered on pillowy lips.

Human thoughts. Alien thoughts. Desires no Kryptonian should even apprehend, much less indulge. The very idea of the non-procreative act was shameful, and to develop these emotional entanglement…

Kara had once mourned her failure, for she had been charged with preserving the ways of her people. Her first command had been to keep Kal Kryptonian.

A task she had failed even within herself.

“You hoped it was something else?”

Lena looked at her so sadly and so sweetly and swallowed.

“Yeah,” she said in a thick voice, “I kinda did.”

Kara smiled in spite of herself. When she sighed, it was as if the weight of a world slid off her shoulders.

“Can’t a girl have two secrets?”

Lena’s eyes widened.

“One day a long time ago, very very far away, a young Kara looked over her shoulder and watched the shockwave shatter the crust of her planet as its core exploded. She lost everything. Her world, her family, her culture, so many things. Tastes. Colors. Places. All gone.”

Lena wrapped her arms around herself, averting her gaze.

“I knew I’d lose you eventually. I just wanted to keep you as long as I could.”

Lena reached up and rubbed at her eyelids with her fingers.

“Do you remember when your mom’s goons threw you off the balcony?”

“Yes,” said Lena.

“Do you remember how I held you when I caught you?”

“I do.”

“I wish I hadn’t lied. I wish I’d never put you down.”

Lena said nothing and did not look up. Kara could hear her heart racing, practically feel the tension in her limbs across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lied. I’ve always known I could never keep you, I just didn’t want to make it end.”

Lena looked up with tear-wet eyes.

Then she lunged across the room, crossing the gap between them in long strides. Kara Danvers -Kara Zoe-El, Supergirl- was caught almost completely off guard. It wasn’t until Lena was practically charging into her arms, leaping into her, that she remembered to cushion the impact, catch her gently and make sure she didn’t slam herself into an unyielding wall of Kara.

She was so surprised, so shocked into helpless acceptance, that she didn’t offer the slightest residence when Lena reached, grabbed her neck in a firm hold, and pulled her into a kiss. Kara’s stomach did a backflip and she was helpless, undone despite all her strength. For a moment both their eyes opened and they looked at each other in a wordless exchange and Kara began kissing her back in earnest. Lena’s sharp breaths and soft moans instantly kindled a hot need inside her, thrumming like a plucked guitar string, and she effortlessly lifted Lena onto the kitchen counter.

“Holy shit, you’re strong,” Lena breathed.

“Of course I am,” she whispered into Lena’s kiss. “I’m Supergirl.”

And at long last, Kara found something she wanted to taste more than potstickers.

[littleslaywrites]

i will be your preacher, teacher | aaron hotchner x reader

nsfw, mdni

summary: based on father figure by george michael. hotch can no longer resist his feelings toward his younger subordinate when you knock on his hotel room door.

word count: 2.8k

cw: smut, age gap, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, corruption, slight size kink, p in v, brief dom!hotch, song lyrics in bold italics

Aaron Hotchner was a smart man. His career showed the proof: law school, accomplished prosecutor, unit chief. But this was stupid. You made him stupid. 

He tried to resist, to keep you out of his mind. When the fantasies of you under him infiltrated his thoughts, he’d banish them in the same way he tried to forget the details of haunting cases.

Yet, here you were, standing in the doorway of his hotel room. The sight of you had been driving him crazy all day. You’d worn a tank top to the precinct that day, trying to fight the heat that had met you when you arrived for the investigation. It was more skin that you’d shown before, and Aaron greedily wanted to see even more. 

That's all I wanted, something special

He couldn’t though. He was not only your boss, but also 20 years older than you. So he ignored you all day, fighting the urge to even look at you. Even Dave had mentioned his attitude, pointing out the obvious frustration he displayed. He brushed it off with some excuse about being stressed about the case, which he was sure was an obvious lie.

The second he opened the door, he regretted it. He should’ve ignored your knocking, because now you were right in front of him, still in that tank top. Even in the hotel lighting, you looked good. Really good. The slight sliver of skin peeking from above your jeans, the bra strap that escaped the cover of your shirt, the hair that falls around your face. 

“I just wanted to talk to you,” you said. “Did I do something wrong?”

Your words catch him off guard. Of course you’d noticed his avoidance. His hand balled up into a fist by his side. 

“Come in.” 

Another mistake. He has no idea why he said that. The last thing he needs is to see you in his room. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

Something sacred in your eyes

The look you give him has his mind racing, and not one of the thoughts he has is appropriate. He can almost picture you on the bed. He tries to look away from your eyes, but with his height advantage, he can see straight down your low cut top. 

“I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s just…” you trail off, suddenly shy from the situation. “You’ve been snappy with me all day.”

You would never admit it, even to your closest friends, but Aaron had been on your mind, too. Ever since you first joined the BAU and introduced yourself, he’d been the last thing you thought of before bed every night. Today he looked especially good, jacket off due to the heat. His shirt was so tight that you thought the buttons could pop off with a single wrong move. When he had refused to look your way, even when you shared your theories with the team, you became paranoid. You feared he profiled the crush you had on him. You’d come to his door for some peace of mind, hoping for an explanation of his behavior. 

That's all you wanted, something special, someone sacred in your life

“It’s nothing.” His eyes are drilling into yours. You’re trying to read him, knowing he’s hiding something from you.

A sudden boldness comes over you. You’re annoyed that he’s treated you like this all day, and has nothing to say for himself. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.” 

There’s no going back now that you’ve backtalked your boss. You decide to commit, walking closer to him. 

Aaron is slightly taken aback by your attitude. He almost laughs at you, humored by your attempt to control the conversation. 

“That’s no way to speak to your superior,” he chastises.

It’s a good thing the room is dark, otherwise he’d be able to see the blush invading your face. You feel a wetness between your thighs. When you get back to your room, you’re going to have to take care of yourself. You curse internally, embarrassed that this is how you are affected when your boss yells at you. 

Just for one moment, to be warm and naked, at my side

You have no words, but it’s too late to back down. So you stand there, staring. He realizes you’re going to be stubborn, and closes the gap between you. Now that he’s right in front of you, he can see the way your eyes have darkened. A thought flashes in his mind briefly: you might want him, too. He feels blood rush to his cock, and he can only hope that you won’t see.

“Or what?” you finally muster up. 

You’ve been locked in a staring contest, but his eyes intensify in a way that automatically makes you look down, reminding you that your bravery was simply an act. Your eyes stop in their path to the floor when you catch a glimpse of Aaron’s crotch. The light is too low to tell for sure, but the question is still there. Is he…

Sometimes I think that you'll never understand me

“Insubordination is a punishable offense.” It’s the most professional thing he can think of, especially when he’s praying you don’t notice the hardness under his suit pants.

His words have another rush of wetness pooling in your underwear. Before you can even calculate the risk you’re taking, you speak up again.

“Punish me, then.”

A heaviness settles in the air in the wake of your words. 

“What did you say to me?”

Your eyes are glued to the floor.

“Look at me.” He takes your jaw in his hand and forces your eyes to meet his. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying, little girl.”

You look away again. It’s a nickname you’re not unfamiliar with, the team using it whenever they need to tease you about being the youngest member of the team. This is a different kind of teasing, Aaron’s grip tightening on your jaw. 

“I mean what I say,” you reply, looking back up. 

He knows he should tell you to leave. He should let go of your jaw and forget all of it. He’s a rule follower, and this goes directly against all the rules he swore to obey when he took his position. It is against everything he says he is, all the moral codes he follows. 

But something tells me together we'd be happy

Fuck it.

“Is that what you want?” He lean his forehead is against yours. “Am I what you want?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, overwhelmed by his closeness. You hardly believe this is really happening. You’re sure at any moment he’ll pull back or you’ll wake up from a dream.

“Then strip.” 

You obey, walking backwards as his eyes bore into you. You kick off the slippers you’re wearing, then take off your tank top. You can feel him studying you as you remove your jeans, leaving you in just your underwear.

“Keep going.”

You remove your bra slowly, putting on a show for him. When you shimmy out of your panties, you fight the urge to cover yourself up. He’s still fully clothed, emphasizing how exposed you are. 

Sensing your shyness, he walks up to you again, planting his hands on your waist. His touch is nothing short of explosive, finally feeling his skin against yours. Finally, he kisses you. His lips are softer than you imagined. Your doubt washes away, touch gently guiding you to trust him.

If you ever hunger, hunger for me

When he pulls back, his eyes are still closed, your noses touching. “I’m too old for you.”

“I know,” you say breathlessly. 

You unbutton his shirt, tie removed before you knocked on his door. He shrugs it off as you remove his belt, and he’s putty under your hands when you brush against his hard on.

“Is that part of the appeal?” he questions. “Did your own father not treat you right?”

You know his question is rhetorical, so you only answer by unbuttoning his pants. 

Whatever you ask for, that's what I'll be

“Get on the bed,” he whispers in your ear. You lay down, watching him take his undershirt off. He’s left only in his boxers when he crawls on top of you. 

He cages you under his body, kissing you again. You can feel his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as his tongue pushes between your lips. 

Because all I ever wanted, it's in your eyes

You’re wetter than you can ever remember being. Your hips mindlessly wriggle, searching for any possible friction. Sensing your desperation, Aaron slides a finger inside you. You cry out, a reaction that would seem exaggerated if he didn’t feel how soaked you are. 

“Aaron, I–” It almost feels forbidden to use his first name, but you can’t imagine calling him anything else, not with him touching you like he is.

“Yes?” he asks, finger stroking the inside of your walls.

“I’ve never…” You trail off, blushing at your admission. You lower your voice to a whisper. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Shh,” he hushes, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”

And love can't lie, no

He adds another finger, flattening his palm so it’s up against your clit. You’re whimpering, overtaken by the feeling of being touched by another person in this way for the first time. His large fingers are finding places you can't reach yourself.

“Please, Aaron, I can’t take it anymore.” Your words come out slowly, you’re hardly able to form a thought, let alone string together a sentence. “Just fuck me.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. He wanted to get you ready, have you open before he thought of stretching you out.

“Yes,” you whine, hips jerking up to rub your clit against his hand. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, removing his underwear. You catch a groan in your throat when he reveals his cock. It’s large enough so that you start to worry.

Seeing the hesitance in your eyes, he kisses you again. Any intimidation he used earlier is gone, replaced by gentleness. 

Greet me with the eyes of a child, heaven is a kiss and a smile

“Are you sure you want this?” he says against your lips. He withdraws slightly, mind racing with thoughts again. He can’t be the one to take your virginity. You’re half his age, vulnerable beneath him. “You should find someone your own age.”

“I need you. I need it to be you. Show me how.”

Your words reassure him, and he can no longer resist his urges. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, hooking it around your waist. Your pussy is pulsing around nothing, needing him inside you. 

“Tell me if you need to stop,” he says, running his cock through your wet folds. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Just hold on, and I won't let you go

He guides himself to you, starting by pushing just his tip inside. He exhales shakily, feeling the way you’re already gripping him. 

He gets about two-thirds in before you put a hand on his chest to slow him down. 

“Are you okay?”

“Just… give me a second.” 

He brings a hand down to your clit, softly circling it to chase the tension for your muscles. You grab his hair, and he takes that as the signal to press all the way inside you.

Both of you moan as he bottoms out. He doesn’t move yet, instead grabbing your hand in his large one, squeezing it slightly. The moment has transformed into something completely different than the way it started. It’s not a hate fuck, you’re not mad at each other, he’s not punishing you. It’s intimate, and a hopeful part of you even thinks it’s something akin to love.

I will be your father figure, put your tiny hand in mine

He slowly drags his cock away, and then thrusts back in. You let out a moan, feeling every ridge of his cock along your walls. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. So full, so complete. You wonder how you’ll ever feel whole again when he’s no longer inside you.

“You feel so good,” he groans in your ear as he slowly thrusts, letting you get used to the feeling. “So tight.”

Your mind is blank, thinking only of the way you can feel his tip moving inside you, dragging along the inside of you and hitting your g-spot with each thrust. It doesn’t feel wrong to be fucking your superior, not when you’re looking up at the way the sweat is beading on his forehead. 

He starts to speed up, desperate to bring you to your release. Your whimpers spur him on, driven by the pleasure he’s giving you. He wants his cock to be the first one you cum around.

I will be your preacher, teacher, anything you have in mind

The new speed makes you think he might actually split you open. You can’t control the sounds you make, shameless beneath him. You reach the hand that’s not holding his up to grab his back, clinging on to anything you can find.

He can tell you’re close by the way your pussy is fluttering around him. He doesn’t expect you to say anything, as you’re clearly overcome with pleasure by the look on your face. Looking at you under him, he feels his own release nearing. You’re a beautiful mess, a singular trail of mascara running under one of your eyes. Your mouth is open, moans getting louder as you get nearer to your orgasm. Watching the way your lips move, he leans down to kiss you, capturing your noise in his mouth. 

I will be your father figure, I have had enough of crime

His kiss is enough to send you over. Breath hitching, you go limp. You can’t help the way your hand curls, nails scratching down his back. Your back arches, hips trying to get as close as possible to his. 

No orgasm you’ve given yourself can compare to this feeling. Your legs start to shake, toes pointing. You clench around him so hard that he has to work to keep moving. 

You're still lost in the pleasure of your own release when he cums. He stills, holding you close as you feel the warmth shoot deep inside you. Letting his head fall to your neck, he lets out a loud groan, working not to collapse on top of you. 

When he rolls over to his back and his cock slips out, you miss the feeling of being full. He pulls you into his arms, the two of you laying on your sides, facing each other. You lay your head on his chest, comforted by the smell of his cologne mixing with sweat. 

“How are you feeling?” he says, breaking the silence.

“Good. That felt really good.”

He pulls you closer, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m glad it was you,” you say, realizing that you’re suddenly feeling sentimental toward him.

“I wasn’t mad at you today,” he admits, ashamed of his earlier behavior. “I’ve just wanted you for a long time. I was frustrated.”

You smile into his chest, flushing at the admission. “Me, too”

You fall into stillness again. 

Aaron is the one to break the silence again. “I don’t want you to think this is just physical.”

You meet his eyes. There’s a certain vulnerability in them, something you’ve never seen before. He always has his walls up around the team, so this is a new side of him. He doesn’t say he loves you, but his eyes scream it. You say it back with your own gaze.

“I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you into more,” he explains, “I just want you to know it’s… I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t actually like you.”

“Me, neither,” you answer back.

There’s still more to say, more to work out, but these words are enough for tonight. It’d probably be too complicated to be real, but you have him behind closed doors. The team would never understand this, only seeing the age gap. They’d never grasp the way you let each other in. You understand, though. You understand the way he opens himself up to you, the way he lowers his defense in your arms. And he understands how you let him guide you, letting him feel you in the way nobody else has. 

I will be the one who loves you 'til the end of time

[onlyangel4]

healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. part two.

cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.

when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.

warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating. super super angsty.

author's note: this is still building up the angst the proper max fluff will be next. for context reader and lewis broke up eight weeks before the austin gp.

part one // part three

faceclaim: camilla morrone

f1wags

liked by user12, f1fan22, user 45 and 12,382 others

f1wags: y/n y/ln and alexandra saint mleux pictured on a dog walk out near y/n's childhood home. this is the first time y/n has been pictured in a week following the revelation that lewis hamilton had been cheating on her with y/exbff. no one knows how long they have been cheating but sources seem to think it did not start last weekend and has actually been going on longer. we hope that y/n is okay.

view all 439 comments

user12: oh how i would love to hear the goss

user45: alex looked angry in some of the other pictures. i just know y/n is sitting on business

f1fan22: alex flying out to see her is true friendship y/exbff could never.

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 680,928 others

y/ninsta: i'll be okay. i've got my girl.

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

view all 9,720 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: my love, i am honestly amazed how strong you have been the past three weeks. i wish to be half the woman that you are.

y/ninsta: i would not have been this strong without you and charles alex. i love you both, thank you for taking me in before i found my new place.

y/nfan: lewis cheated on her with her best friend and took the house and roscoe (WHO THEY BROUGHT WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER) all y/n got was her husky lilo and a broken heart. I HATE MEN

charlesleclerc: i took this photo

y/ninsta: yes charles you did. well done

user37: y/n is gentle parenting charles omg

maxverstappen: hope you have been okay y/n, been thinking of you recently, missing you around the paddock.

liked by y/ninsta

user17: omg even max in on her side

f1wags

liked by f1fan43, user48, y/nlover and 34,589 others

f1wags: y/n is in her revenge dress era. the ex wag has arrived at the austin gp. she came in and watched fp1 and fp2 with charles and alex and is in the ferrari garage. we here at f1wags are so happy to see her back in the paddock. also lewis and the other girl have arrived but i don't want to post about that.

view all 8,183 comments

y/nlover: what a serve

f1fan43: THE OTHER GIRL even wag pages hate y/exbff

user48: lewis hamilton found screaming, crying, throwing up in the merc garage

user21: did you guys see max. he saw y/n walk in he stopped what he was doing jogged over to her and they had like a proper long conversation.

f1updates

liked by hamiltonupdates, f1fan, user23 and 34,5672 others

f1updates: a story in two pictures.

picture one: lewis and y/n were photographed arguing behind the mercedes motorhome. y/exbff was also there. the video shows them talking to y/n and then y/n running off crying.

picture two: a shaky video captures the moment max watched y/n run off crying and he jogged after her. she said something to him and then he pulled her into a hug while she sobbed on his shoulder. he led her inside but when she pulled away from the hug max's white shirt was almost see through. y/n is obviously going through it. we are left wondering what lewis and y/exbff told her.

view all 7,625 comments

f1fan: oh thank god for max, she looked so lost. looking around for someone to help her while paparazzi started calling her name when she was fucking sobbing.

hamiltonupdates: i am really questioning lewis rn

user23: y/n would not have gone to talk to him about just anything. this has to be big.

y/exbff

liked by lewishamilton, friendone, friendtwo and 342,837 others

y/exbff: sixteen weeks ago we made what we thought was a massive mistake that we vowed to never talk about but eight weeks ago we discovered it was the best thing ever to happen to us. baby coming march next year,

comments for this post have been disabled

taglist: @sinofwriting @toldyouitwasamelodrama @formulaal

@minkyungseokie @shrbehndwn @gr1mes-cc @nichmeddar

@liberty-barnes

[burningembers91]

Like a Dog - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Rare

Gunpowder and Lace

Synopsis: Your grey suited man has finally relinquished control

A/N: well, I did NOT see the story going this way! But, the more I write for him the more I can’t help but see him as a secret sub. He’s so dark and evil during the day, but I can see him being so needy for his woman at night. So yeah, I guess this is now a Sub!Salesman storyline 🤗 but he’s still completely insane

Also, for the alleyway scene in this fic, I was deffo picturing this gif:

There was something so intimate about relinquishing control. It gave him a sense of freedom he’d never felt before, a kind of peace he was sure he’d never know. Since telling you his name, his world had altered, had taken on a new meaning. He was always so sure he’d wanted to control you, to torture you until you broke; it was a force of habit, really. He’d always been good at breaking things, of tearing even the strongest people down until they were nothing but withered shells. But somewhere along the line, his desires towards you had changed. You’d brought something new to his life; love.

It was an odd feeling, one that he’d never felt before. He’d been so sure that he was entirely incapable of feeling anything towards any living thing, and at first it at felt uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable the way his heart physically ached for you, the feeling seeping down into the pit of his stomach in a wave of delicious heat that tied itself in knots around his senses. At first he’d been sure he was having a heart attack, or possibly a stroke, but he was convinced that neither of those things were supposed to feel pleasurable, not like he felt when he was with you. He missed you when you weren’t around, and craved you when you were. He was like a loyal dog, blindly following you whenever you went.

He found it hard to concentrate at work, always wondering what you were doing. He wanted to know how your day was, what you were having for lunch, what time you’d be home, how the kids in your classes were getting on. Love was inconvenient, love was a distraction, but he was beyond the point of caring. He’d almost made mistakes at work, and mistakes in his job were simply out of the question. He had to figure out a way of getting you out of his head, had to find a way to block you from his brain during the day. But no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to worm your way back in.

You were living with him now, his desire to be with you so strong that he simply couldn’t face living apart. He enjoyed seeing your things in his home; your perfumes and lotions next to his cologne, your clothes hanging up next to his in the closet. He found himself excited to come home, to bask in the domestic mundanity of ordinary life. You liked to read, and the two of you would lie across his expansive leather sofa, his head in your lap as you played with his hair, both engrossed in your own novels. He was worried you were making him weak, turning him into the kind of man he enjoyed breaking. There were days he couldn’t make it until the evening to see you, showing up at your school to meet you for lunch, or walking you home after the day had ended.

He allowed you full control in the bedroom, bending to your every will and desire. He was so pitifully grateful on the nights you gave him the power back, allowing him to feel in control again for a brief moment. But you were the one calling the shots now, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

As his love for you grew however, so did his disdain for others. He’d always been the jealous type, had never liked to share. He found it harder to maintain his cool when you were out, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds to see if anyone had the gall to try and undress you with their eyes. There was always someone he could pick out, someone who looked at you the wrong way, who walked a little too close to you. One day when you stopped for coffee, a man had the audacity to queue jump, pushing past you as if you were invisible. That man ended up with a broken nose and two black eyes, left to cower in the alleyway behind the cafe as your grey suited man stamped repeatedly on his ribs until you told him to stop. He’d been a fool to think you were making him weak; you were only making him stronger.

You still had so many questions about the man who worshipped you like you were a goddess. You knew he was dangerous; had seen him take a man’s life and beat another one almost to death because they had disrespected you. He’d gone from stalking you like a cat stalks a mouse to begging for your attention, your validation. He was a man who would crawl through broken shards of glass if you asked him to. You knew virtually nothing about his family, only that he had parents, but he no longer spoke to them. You never met any of his friends, never met any of his colleagues. Your belief about his job in sales and recruitment was dubious. He dressed in custom Versace suits and Prada loafers, and you didn’t know any sales job that paid that well. You were hesitate to quiz him though; he treated you like royalty, giving you everything you’d desired and more, along with an undying, almost obsessive love he showered you in.

As much as he loved you, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. It was a terrifying word, one that had never left his lips before. He’d never even told his parents that he loved them, because in truth he hadn’t. Until you came along, he viewed everyone with a quiet distaste. People were a nuisance, a waste of time unless they had something you needed. He hoped you knew how much he loved you though, hoped his devotion to you showed through his actions. He showered you in gifts, did everything around the house so you never had to lift a finger, marked your students essays on the nights you were too tired. He was your servant in the bedroom, living only to please you.

He’d been scared at first, scared when he realised he was happy to let you dominate him. He’d always been in control, had always been the one calling the shots, but he’d never realised how good it could feel to be the one treated like a dog. He found immense pleasure in fulfilling your every desire, of letting you use him like a toy. His work required him to always be alert, to always ensure no one bested him. It became a relief to come home at night and allow himself to be told what to do.

He was enjoying this life with you, a life of domestic bliss he never thought he’d crave. You were by no means a conventional couple, but it worked for you.

You knew he had a dark side, had seen it many times. And yet he played the doting boyfriend so well. You didn’t care how dangerous he was, how devilish his desires were when it came to toying with others. With you, he craved nothing but your love and respect. And you were happy to give it to him, your submissive, grey suited man.

[flooffybits]

What I Needed

Idol: Yu Jimin (Aespa)

Jimin just needed someone who could see that she was more than just Karina from Aespa.

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: mentions Karina's dating scandal

☕buy me a coffee☕

“Unnie, you good to go?”

Jimin looked up from her phone screen to see Yizhuo smiling at her, already done with her makeup while Aeri and Minjeong were busy talking behind the maknae, something about what their manager had told them before they would be going out to see their fans again.

The leader offered a small smile before finally rising to her feet, the headlines and articles  with her name pushed to the back of her mind as she shoved her phone inside her pocket. Yizhuo had that same concerned look in her eyes, but opted not to push, not when the wound of Jimin’s dating scandal was still so fresh.

Minjeong spotted her and her smile softened just a little, more encouraging, while Aeri finally looked over, grinning at her friend before reaching for her hand. “You good?” She asked, and Jimin only smiled while nodding her head. “Let’s go.”

With a practiced smile and the same confident mask slipping into place, Jimin led her members out of the room and to the area where everyone was waiting for them. She held her head high, yet her shoulders were tense. Yizhuo held her hand up until they sat down, giving her a small squeeze to remind her that she wasn’t alone.

When they finally began the meet and greet, the sound of people screaming along with camera shutters going off welcomed their ears. Jimin did her best with keeping up appearances, flashing a charismatic smile as she spotted a few of her fansites. Though she had to suck in a deep breath when she saw the few disappointed stares sent her way.

The heavy feeling never goes away, Jimin had learned. Even when she laughed and joked around with her members and fans, the few who would ignore her simply for the life she lived made it almost feel like a rope wrapped around her neck, tightening with each displeased look.

To her left, Minjeong had sensed her subtle distress and placed a comforting hand on the older girl’s leg from under the table and Jimin returned the gesture with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t let them get to you.” She heard those words a million times at this point, if not from her members then by some of her friends who knew the truth behind the pictures and fame.

Finally, Jimin was met with another fan who had managed to make Yizhuo laugh a little too loud, snapping Jimin out of her thoughts when the girl finally sat in front of her and Jimin saw a look in the girl’s eyes that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

As she flashed a smile, you returned it a little reluctantly. “Hi there, I think I remember you.” She tried her hand at a friendly conversation, mistaking your reluctance for her recent scandal. “You like Winter, right?” She tried again and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “Yes, she’s my bias.”

Frankly, you weren’t even sure that she would remember something like that given how many fans she would meet on a daily basis. You were just another person in the sea of faces that Jimin passed through.

Though you were one of the more popular My's on Twitter, known for your quirky personality online and building a pretty good reputation for yourself. When people began to know who you were after a few meets and events, it didn't take long for your popularity to grow even more when people saw your face. You were a loyal fan of Aespa, and a very vocal one at that with how you defended the girls from haters.

Jimin shifted a little uncomfortably at your silence, her distress clearly showing, but she saw the way your eyes softened before you opened your mouth to speak, her fidgeting stopped and her eyes locked on your face.

“I wish you wouldn’t feel so guilty, unnie.” She blinked in surprise, her pen pausing briefly over the album you had. “There’s nothing wrong with having feelings, okay? You’re only human after all.” Finally, you managed to give her a smile, although a little shy as you concluded. “Please never apologize for the way you feel because they’re valid, too.”

The words struck a chord inside of her and she wasn’t sure what exactly it was she could say to respond to your kind words. She knows you were talking about her public apology, everyone did at this point. But she hasn’t heard anyone ever telling her that her feelings weren’t something she just needed to discard.

She was told to suck it up, that the issue would pass if she just ignored it. People only told her that it would get better with time.

But you somehow said the words that she needed to really hear that no one was willing to tell her.

That what she felt mattered.

That she mattered, too.

And as you bid your goodbye before moving to speak with your bias, Jimin watched as Minjeong happily welcomed you back, having remembered you from the handful of times you’ve come to support Aespa and even managed to start teasing each other like you were long time friends, especially when Minjeong found out that she was your bias.

“How much free time do you have, unnie? It’s like you’re always here.” Minjeong said teasingly while signing your album. “I took a day off to see you, silly.” Jimin couldn’t help noticing the difference in how you spoke to her and Minjeong.

You spoke to her with such intensity and care while Minjeong was faced with a more carefree and equally warm response. She wonders, if she didn’t have that scandal, would you talk to her the same?

Even when Jimin had to refocus on the fans that would come and go before her, she ended up realizing that her eyes looked for you in the room full of people. She had subtly followed your movements until you reached your seat so it was easy for her to find you before she would refocus on what she was doing.

And when they began to perform their latest comeback, Jimin found herself stealing glances in your general direction, putting on a show just so no one would find her actions suspicious.

People had recognized you, waving in your direction as you passed them by and if Jimin didn't know, she would have assumed that you were an idol with how people reacted to your presence. But unlike her, you had the freedom of choice.

She was bound and shackled by a contract - a price she needed to pay for her dreams of being an idol.

But as the event concluded and the girls said their goodbyes, Jimin’s eyes locked on your figure again, happily waving at them before your eyes met hers.

It was a brief yet charged moment, but you managed to flash her a smile, one that promised that she wouldn't be alone. Not as long as she had people like you to be there for her.

“You seem distracted.” Aeri murmured when her fingers gently brushed against the leader's arm as soon as they were out of prying eyes. “Is everything alright?” Jimin glanced back at the door, hearing the faint sound of people leaving the venue.

She didn't know when she would be seeing you again.

But your words would stay with her for a long while.

“Y/n unnie is really something, isn't she?” Minjeong said softly, smiling at the older girl who looked a little confused, earning herself a giggle. “The girl you were looking at, I heard what she told you.”

Ah, that was your name?

Jimin made sure to remember that for next time.

“Yeah, she was… something.”

Glancing at each other, Jimin’s members shared looks that she was too preoccupied to notice before Minjeong gave her a pat on the arm. “She's a really nice girl. I think you should try talking more next time.” She teased, keeping the atmosphere light, and Yizhuo nodded in agreement. “She's funny, too!”

“Yeah, that laugh made it very obvious.” Aeri quipped, earning a shove from the maknae. “You're just jealous that she made me laugh like that.” The girl snapped back playfully and Minjeong snorted a little. “I'm her bias so…” With a casual shrug, she then proceeded to gather her things while Aeri and Yizhuo exchanged snappy and playful comebacks.

Jimin appreciated her members for cheering her up. They knew when not to push, and their chaos was exactly what she needed to quell the storm inside her head.

And then there was you.

Despite not knowing you on a personal level, you had reached out to her without pushing past her boundaries. Jimin was grateful for your compassion and understanding, but even as the night went on, your words kept going on repeat.

There's nothing wrong with having feelings.

Jimin stared up at her ceiling, her phone long forgotten on her pillow before she decided to pick it up. She opened up Twitter and did a bit of searching before her fingers hovered over the screen.

Biting her lip, Jimin wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to do, but the longer she stared at your profile, pictures of today's events scattered across your page, she clicked on the little envelope icon before typing out a message.

Thank you.

Since she was using a fake account to just scroll, she didn't feel too worried. Though given the time, she doubts you would be responding. And given your follower count, she also doubts you would be replying to a random message without context.

But to Jimin’s surprise, a message popped up a few minutes after she put her phone down.

Umm, not sure who this is or if you've got the right person but you're welcome either way! Hope you have a good night :)

For the first time since that stupid scandal came and dragged her name, Jimin was able to fall asleep with a smile on her face, chest feeling lighter than it had when the day began.ae

[monster-disaster]

[elf] Everen

elf!Everen x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Summary: Your boss demands you to go after him into the woods.

For long seconds, the ringing of your phone seems unreal and far away. It needs time to break through your dreams, and when it does, you can't help but groan into the darkness of your room. You are disoriented and confused. Your phone doesn't stop vibrating on the nightstand next to you. The bluish light of the screen illuminates the ceiling. It blinds you for a second as you turn on your back and grab the small device. You have to force yourself to stay awake even though tears gather and escape from the corner of your eyes because of the sudden light. You can barely see the picture of your boss with his name at the bottom. You groan again.

"Mad?" His voice breaks the silence of your room. You can see him frowning on the screen. His thick, almost white brows cause a deep wrinkle between them. "It's me," you croak out. You don't even have enough energy to react to the stupid nickname he gave you years ago. Reaching out for the small lamp, you turn it on. "Did I wake you?" You glance up at the clock in the corner of your phone. It's almost one o'clock. "What do you think?" "You look like shit." "What do you want, Everen?" You ask him impatiently. Your voice is still hoarse with sleep but more steady and strict. "I need you to come here." Long seconds pass in silence before you snap. "What do you want now?" "I'm going crazy here," he says, looking around wherever he is. The only thing you can see behind him is a window with curtains. "You can't be serious," you breathe out your frustration. "You are barely there for twelve hours." "So?" You groan. "Then come home!" "I can't," he argues. "I need this." "Then why do you want me there?" You snap at him again. "You are my personal assistant, no?" He asks. "You have to do what I say." Your resignation is at the tip of your tongue, but you gulp it down at the last moment. "You are five hours away, Everen. You can't be serious." "Do I look like I'm joking?" He asks back. You don't even have to look at him to know he is not joking. You are not even sure if he can do that. "You can be here by the morning." You have to close your eyes to keep your calm. "I arrive when I arrive!" "Fine," he grunts, and you end the call.

Fucking unbelievable!

You met Everen when you finished college. He needed someone he could order around, and you needed a job to keep a roof over your head. It was a match made in hell.

The elf writes fantasy. And he is good at them. Really good. He is popular, and his books are bestsellers. Everen is lucky his personality doesn't show on the pages. He is headstrong, mean, and spoiled. Most of the time, you feel like a babysitter.

At first, he only used you to get him coffee, do his shopping, and keep in contact with his publisher, so he didn't have to. As the years went by, he asked for, or demanded, help with his stories. Read them and give them your honest opinion. Point out the mistakes and drag down his ego. Well, he didn't ask for the latter, but you like to do it nonetheless. Besides the salary, this is the only perk of your job.

After sleeping for a few hours more, you pack your things and begin your journey to Ironridge.

Everen decided to turn his back on the city when two months passed without him writing anything. The elf is sure he only needs some solitude and nature to clear his head and finish his book in time. There are two problems, though: he hates being alone, and he has no survival skills in nature, even though you know there is a town just a ride away, and he has a perfectly good cabin in the woods.

"What?" You ask him when you get out of the car, and Everen just stares at you without a word. He sits on the porch with a mug in his hands. "You are here," he states, and you freeze. "You asked me to come, remember?" Gods, if he says he wasn't serious you will kill him. Nobody knows you are here, and the forest is big enough to hide his body. Everen scoffs. "Of course, I remember!" "Good," you nod, grabbing your things to take them into the house. As you stop next to him in front of the entrance of the cabin, you notice what he wears. His boots are too new and useless for the woods, and his jeans are too tight to be comfortable. The red flannel shirt is something you never thought you would see on him. "You look ridiculous," you tell him before disappearing into the house.

The place is small. There is barely enough space for a kitchen and a living room with a couch and fireplace. The bathroom and the bedroom are next to each other at the back.

Oh, right, where are you going to sleep?

"The couch is comfortable," Everen says from behind you.

Right. Of course.

"Always a gentleman."

After putting down your things and grabbing a mug to pour yourself some coffee, you turn your attention back to the elf. "So, what did you do yesterday?" You ask him. "Did you write something or go for a walk?" He looks at you like you are crazy. "For a walk? Outside?" "Yes," you nod, and when the expression on his chiseled face doesn't change, you groan. "Why are we even here if you don't go out?" "To be close to nature." You will kill him. Nobody will know. "Next time just by a fucking plant!" "You are not really nice," he states. "Did you sleep enough?" For seconds, you just stare at him without blinking. "I wrote a few pages yesterday," he adds when he decides to change the topic for safety reasons. "Do you want to read it?" "Do you want to show them to me?" There are times when Everet is really cautious with his work, and despite your odd relationship with him, you don't want to make him do things he doesn't want to. His books and his career are really important to him, and you respect them.

Without saying anything, the elf nods at the laptop on the couch, and you sit down to read it. Long minutes pass by while you focus on the screen, and Everen walks back and forth behind you. His platinum-blonde hair is tied back with a leather stripe. The long, straight locks almost reach his slim waist.

"Holyshit," you break the silence. The elf stops and leans over the back of the couch to see the screen in your lap. The pillow behind your back sinks under his weight. "So?" He asks urgently. "What do you think?" "Since when do you write erotica?" "The publisher told me to spice things up," he explains. "He says it's popular." You frown. "Your books are popular." Everen shrugs. "Is it really that bad?" "It's so dry," you tell him. You can see he doesn't like the publisher's instructions, either, so you try to be nicer than usual. Now you understand why he got stuck with his book. "And you used "member" at least twenty times. It's not a rock band, Everen, it's a dick." You don't even have to look back at him to know he is offended. You just notice it from the way his breathing changes. "Can you do better?" "I mean…" you shrug. "I could give it a try." You are not a writer and don't want to be one, but you can clearly see what's wrong with his work. "Then be my guest," he says. "Do your best."

You spend the next few hours on the couch, adjusting and changing things you don't like in the scene. The only noise in the small cabin is the keyboard's clattering as you write. Sometimes you hear Everen do something in the house, mostly making coffee after coffee. He is lucky elves don't tend to get heart attacks.

"Are you writing a whole book?" He asks impatiently. "I didn't ask you to change the whole book." Rolling your eyes, you push the laptop onto the couch from your lap to stand up. "I'm done," you tell him. "Read it if you want."

While your boss busies himself with the book, you go out with another drink to enjoy some peace and fresh air. You feel even more tired than you arrived. You settle into the rocking chair Everen used when you arrived. The wooden floorboards feel solid beneath your feet as you rock back and forth ever so slowly. As you sip your coffee, your gaze wanders into the woods. Towering trees sway gently in the gentle summer breeze. The sunlight filters through the canopy above, casting a dappled pattern of light and shadow on the lush greenery. The air smells like pine, damp earth, and wildflowers, mixing with the coffee in your hands. Birdsong fills the quietness, a symphony of chirps and trills.

Usually, you prefer the loud business of the city, but if you have to be honest, this is good too. Your only problem is…

Everen almost bursts out of the house. His handsome face is cold and strict. Something burns in his eyes, but you don't recognize what.

"How did you do this?" He demands for an answer. You shrug, sipping from your coffee. "I have a soul." Everen's frown deepens. "I have that too!" "I don't know what to say," you reply. "Did you do that before?" "You mean writing a sex scene?" You ask. "No." "No," he shakes his head. "The scene itself." You almost laugh. "Of course I did." A light blush spreads across his cheeks, and a nagging feeling starts to eat the back of your mind. "You didn't?" His blush deepens. "Does it matter?" "I mean, no," you reply. "But it's really… vanilla." "For who?" "For me? And for a bunch of other people?" "Well," he grunts. "I want it too." You freeze. The swaying of the chair under you stops. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," you break the momentary silence after a while. The words leave your lips slowly and carefully. "I want you to sit on my face," he says. "How hard can it be?" At the word hard, your gaze falls down on the obvious bulge between his thighs. Seeing his erection trapped in his jeans, the new shine in his dark eyes suddenly makes sense. "You got horny because of…-" you point back at the cabin. Surprise shows on your face as your brows draw up in shock. "So what?" He acts like an upset kid. "I'm just surprised you feel anything besides anger," you tell him. Everen just grimaces. "You are funny." His snarky comment makes you think of his request again. Or demand. "So?" He asks impatiently. "Are you coming?" "You mean, right now?" "What do you want me to do? Take you out to pick berries?" He waves at the forest surrounding you. How many times did you imagine shutting him up since your work for him? You can't even count it. "Fine," you grunt, standing up from your seat. The chair creaks at your sudden movement.

Anything to shut him up finally.

"So, what do you want me to do?" He asks when you lead him to the bedroom. It's a mess. His clothes are all over the place, poured out of his bags, and the blanket is halfway down on the ground. "Well," you grunt, looking around. "You could clean up." He stares at you. "You are really wild in bed." "Just shut up!" "Make me!"

Fine!

"Then take off your clothes," you tell him. "Will you do it too?" He asks, staring to unbutton his shirt. You feel glad when the flannel falls off his shoulders. It really did look horrible on him. "Do you want me?" You ask him. "Naked, I mean." "How will I eat your pussy otherwise?"

Maybe this is a good step. Both of you get over the awkwardness first, so you can move on and enjoy whatever happens next. And still. You feel nothing but impatience and excitement. Your gaze rakes over Everen's naked body. Over the line of his shoulders, the light muscles on his chest and abdomen, and the V line that leads you to his cock between his thighs. He is tall and lean. His posture is confident as he stands beside the bed, watching you. His eyes burn your skin as he looks over you. Your nipples harden into small peaks under his heavy stare. "Are you still angry because you had to come here?" He breaks the silence. The elf doesn't even try to hide the fact that he can't tear his eyes away from your breasts. "Just lay down."

When he does as you say, for once, you are ready to climb up on him when a question stops you. "How do you want me?" You eye his erection. "Do you want me to suck you?" A pained grunt escapes the back of his throat. His cock jerks under your gaze. "I take it as a yes," you grin, getting into position with his hands on your thighs. Everen's long fingers squeeze your flesh, urging you to hurry up. You hover just beyond his reach. His warm breath fans over your wet center. "What did you not understand?" He asks after a few seconds. "I said, sit!" And with that, he pushes you down on his face. You don't even have a chance to keep your balance under his tight hold.

Your moans mix in the quiet room as his tongue licks over your pussy. Everen nibs and sucks on you, exploring your aching wetness. His fingers dig into your thighs, pushing you down even more. "Everen!" You cry out his name in shock. His tongue slides through your pussy, lapping at your juices. His face is already soaked. His senses are filled with your taste and scent. He breathes you in, driving himself to delirium. Your thighs shake at the sides of his head. You try to keep your balance, rocking into him and grinding your pussy against his face. You aren't even sure if the elf under you can breathe, but at this point, you don't even care. Your chase your own pleasure, and the only thing that can keep you afloat is his cock not far from you. It twitches every now and again, and pre-cum runs down on his shaft and a bluish vein under the soft, pale skin. Licking your lips, you lean over his chest. Your nipples graze his upper body.

A dissatisfied grunt vibrates over your pussy, sending shivers up your spine when you lift yourself up from his face. "I didn't tell you to move," he grunts. A breathless grin spreads across your face. "Are you sure?" Your fingers curl around his cock, smoothing up and down on his length. "Fuck!" Everen growls, pulling your back onto his lips. His hips thrust up to fuck your fist. "If I had known I could shut you up like this, I would have done it sooner," you tell him, still grinning. Your words are airy, but the snarkiness still rings clearly. Everen says something you don't understand, and the next moment, a startled cry escapes your lips as your world spins with you in the middle. He finds your entrance. He laps at the juices flowing from your pussy before his tongue plunges into your hole. Your legs quiver at the new feeling. Your muscles twitch and flex as your boss pushes you higher and higher. Your hand around his cock is sloppy. You can barely focus on anything besides his tongue in you. Your walls flutter and pulse around him as he fucks you. Both of you are soaked with your wetness and his saliva. "I'm going to cum," you cry out when you feel the first spasms in your lower abdomen. It strikes through your body, sending stars behind your eyelids as you press yourself even more firmly against his face.

You cum, and he licks up everything you have to offer. And he doesn't stop even when you try to get up. "Oh, no," he growls with a deep laugh. The rumbles shake through your sensitive, throbbing cunt. "I'm not done with this pussy yet." He doesn't let you move. He doesn't let you escape. "Oh, fuck! Everen!" You are so busy with your own body you don't even notice your grip on his cock tightening until you feel him jerk and cum in your hand. His hips push up even more, and his moans and groans shake your body. His tongue strokes into you, licking deep. He devours you with a newfound elan, and you can do nothing but grind against him until you feel your orgasm approaching again. Your breathing gets ragged, mixing with cries and screams. Your over-sensitive pussy sends you over the edge within a few minutes.

When your mind clears a bit, you are already on the bed next to Everen. His hand shamelessly gropes your tits, and his hard cock nudges your thigh. His breath is warm on the curve of your neck. "Have any other ideas for the book?"

- Masterlist Ironridge Masterlist Patreon

[peachsukii]

Hiii omg I love your writings so much!!

May i request texting katsuki while reader is drunk in a bar (maybe bc reader just broke up with her previous boyfriend or sth. It’s up to you but please make it spicy 🔥) (also 18+ please 🥹)

ohhhh the things swirling in my head about this!!! thank you for the request nonnie & hope it delivers! 💜

on the rocks

『 ♡ 』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ pro-hero au | age 24 | friends to fwb ꒱ ⇢ your week couldn’t get any worse. between a screw up at work and getting dumped out of the blue, you needed to desperately let off some steam. thank goodness the girls were more than happy to take you out for the night in the city and spoil you with a good time. everything’s fine until you receive a text that spirals into an unpredicted hookup.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI mentions of alcohol, mild/implied smut, suggestive texting, friends to friends with benefits, heavy flirting, sexually comfortable reader, reader went through a break-up, soft bakugo, fluffy ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.6k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

The bartender hands you the drink you ordered, nodding a thanks when you smile at her. You’re not drunk, per se, but you’re definitely buzzed - that warm and fuzzy feeling dancing through your veins, letting you relax for the first time all week. Tonight's goal was to think about absolutely nothing, to let go of all the shit weighing on your shoulders. Even if it's just for one night, anything to shake away the pain you've been carrying.

But the alcohol seems to be betraying you, forcibly shoving those thoughts to the forefront of your mind instead of burying them.

Memories of your ex begin to haunt you as your mind wanders aimlessly, the dam bursting that was keeping it all at bay. You try and shake your head to rid yourself of the feelings, but they just wouldn’t go away.

God, fuck him and every false promise he made to you.

Some people would consider three months a short amount of time, but to you, it felt like an eternity. He seemed so sweet, caring and kind when you first met, but once he forcibly ripped off your rose-colored glasses? He was nothing but a walking pile of shit.

Suddenly, your phone dings on the bar, lighting up to show a text message notification.

'Who the fuck is texting me so late?'

You blink a few times, re-reading the contact name before it registers: Katsuki Bakugo.

That's rather...odd. He's notorious for going to bed by 9pm - it’s almost midnight. You two were friends, sure, but never the 'text you in the middle of the night' type of friends. Curious to know what he wanted, you open the text to reveal nothing but a picture. When you squint through your hazy vision, you realize just what you're looking at.

It's a picture of Bakugo from the neck down, laying on his bed in nothing but grey sweats that are tugged down and nestled at the bottom of his hip bones. The pose accentuates the delicious deep V below his abs and shows the blonde trail disappearing underneath the hem of his sweatpants. The shadows trace each well-earned muscle, perfectly outlining them in the dim light of his bedroom.

Was this meant for you? Did he send it to you by accident? Your mind goes blank, stopping your previous train of thought about your stupid ex.

…did he send it to you on purpose? Your core pulses at the thought, causing you to cross your legs defensively.

Right on queue, another text pops up, your phone vibrating in your hands.

[katsuki] fuck, sorry. that was an accident

That was a bold face fucking lie, and you knew it. Bakugo's not that stupid to send the wrong text by mistake, especially a selfie. There's no way in hell he would even take a picture like that for someone unless he wanted it to be seen.

Liquid courage does you a favor when you reply, loosely teasing him about it.

[you] damn, katsuki. who's the lucky girl?

You don't notice Mina approaching you with how intently you're staring at your phone screen, startling you when she taps your shoulder.

"What are ya doing over here?! Come dance with us!" she pleads, pulling on your arm. She notices how you're clutching your phone like a lifeline and the coral tint on your cheeks. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Who are you texting?"

Oh god, find a lie - fast! She'll see right through your facade if you don't.

"No one, just a spam text."

Mina stares at you - shit, she knows you're lying.

"You're a shit liar, babe. Who is it?"

"I got a random text from Katsuki," you admit, the flush in your cheeks deepening at his name. Are you into him, or is it the alcohol in your system? It's no secret that he's attractive, he's always been effortlessly handsome. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't checked him out a few times, but never acted on it. The two of you were friends and you’d assumed he didn't think much else of you.

Mina grabs the phone from your hands, entering in your passcode (how did she know it?!) and reading the texts. Her eyes blow open, pinching the screen to zoom in on the photo. You scramble to grab the phone back to quit her oogling as she's squealing with glee.

"Holy shit!" she yells. "Accident my ass, Blasty. Damn, that's hot."

"Mina! Keep your voice down," you beg, locking the screen to prevent anyone else from seeing.

"No one is listening over this music," she squawks, punching you lightly in the arm. "Come back to us soon you minx!"

And with that, she leaves you at the bar, returning to the dance circle with the rest of your girlfriends. Your phone vibrates a few more times in your hand and recaptures your attention.

[katsuki] thought you'd like a distraction [katsuki] shit, if this is weird, just tell me and i'll fuck off [katsuki] i should've just asked instead

So it was on purpose. You swallow hard as you shakily type out your reply, trying to keep your cool.

[you] it's not weird, what made you think of me? [katsuki] mina wouldn't shut the fuck up about you earlier. sent me pictures of you in the dress you have on, couldn't get it outta my head

When the fuck did Mina do that?! You had thought she was taking pictures of herself earlier at your apartment. That sneaky bitch!

[you] goddammit mina, i'm sorry about her. why would she send them to you?

You see the typing indicator pop up and disappear a few times before his response arrives.

[katsuki] you know how she is, playing matchmaker and shit with everybody [katsuki] honestly? i'm not mad about it [you] oh? [you] so that's why you sent it to me. hell of a pickup line kats [katsuki] fuck off [katsuki] i can't deny that you're gorgeous [you] yeah? feelings mutual

Your face is burning hot, sitting at the bar in disbelief that Bakugo's flirting with you. And it was all because he was infatuated with what you're wearing? He couldn't get it out of his head?

You're still debating on whether you want to yell at or thank Mina for igniting this fire. [katsuki] where are you right now? [you] sitting at the bar, some club in the city

Another picture is delivered to you on screen and has your jaw dropping to the floor.

The picture is closer to his face this time, cut off at his cheekbones and barely illuminated as Bakugo's fingers are parted over his mouth. His tongue is lazily hanging above his bottom lip with a string of salvia attached to one of his fingers.

Your legs twitch as you bite your lip, imagining his face slotted between your thighs.

[you] holy shit, katsuki...fuck [katsuki] find a bathroom or some dark corner [katsuki] there's more where that came from. just say the word, princess

The pet name is doing things to you that you didn't think was possible. Your overloaded with a sudden rush of arousal, heat twisting in your belly at his promise. Grabbing your bag from the chair, you bolt to the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you. Luckily, this club's on the nicer side, the bathroom not being as scummy as you thought it would be. You set your things on the counter and grab your phone, turning the camera on and pointing it in the mirror.

If that's how he wanted to play? You could play right back.

[you] that deserves a reward

The photo attached shows your breast pushed closed together, daring to spill out of the top of your dress and wearing the poutiest lip you could muster.

Bakugo’s response is immediate.

[katsuki] goddamn, your tits look amazing in that dress [you] would you believe me if i said they look better out of it?

You turn the camera back on and click the record button, sensually slipping the top of your dress down and letting your breasts loosely lay over the bust. Your nipples are pebbled from the rousing desire flowing through you, making them standing perfectly at attention. You give the camera a wink and squeeze one of your breasts playfully. Once you're happy with the video, you send it with no hesitation and readjust your dress. [katsuki] holy fuck [katsuki] you alone? That's not the response you expected, but you roll with it. [you] yeah, one person bathroom

- Incoming Call: Katsuki Bakugo -

You stare at the contact screen for a few seconds before picking up.

"Hey Kat," you greet, nervousness wracking your body, the thrill of the situation making your heart flutter.

"I wanted 'ta hear your voice instead," Bakugo groans, heavy breaths following his words. "I never thought you'd...want to do this with me."

You can't help but laugh under your breath. "Never thought you wanted to, either."

You're thankful that your not drunk off your ass after all - you want to remember this. You're tipsy, but coherent.

And turned on to high heaven.

Bakugo breaks the silence before you cut him off. "I know you're fresh outta-"

"Katsuki, he's not worth mentioning. I'm focused on you right now."

"Yeah? Tell me more."

"I'd love to see what you're hiding under those sweats, Dynamight. I'm practically a puddle just thinking about it. How do you think my lips would look wrapped around you?"

You can hear Bakugo exhale into the phone and groan. He tries to hide it, but fails miserably.

"Cat got your tongue, huh? Too forward?"

"N-no. It's fuckin' hot. Shit," he whispers with baited breath. "God, what club are you at again?"

"The one near Shibuya station. Crystal Crown, I think. Why?"

There's a pause before you hear various clicks and a beep or two from his side before he answers.

"Changed my mind, this ain't happenin' over the phone the first time. You're 15 minutes from my place, I'm comin' to get ya."

You can feel your panties soak from your excitement, clenching at the thought of him just ravaging you in his car and not being able to make it back to his apartment before touching you like a man starved.

"Coming to sweep me off my feet or to fuck my brains out?" The words spill from your lips before you can stop them, but you don’t regret it when you hear Bakugo moan in response - loudly.

"Fuckin’ - have you been stockpilin’ this shit ‘ta say to me?" He laughs. “You’re gonna kill me before I leave the damn apartment.”

“Didn’t think you’d be so easy to play with,” you joke playfully, twirling a piece of your hair in your fingers. “Better get here before I change my mind, find some other rebound in this stupid club.”

“I’ll be your fuckin’ rebound any day of the week, sweetheart. Ain’t no guy in that building better than me.”

His confidence makes it difficult to bite back the moan in your throat.

“Guess you need to prove it. Get your ass over here, I’ll be out front. You better be wearing those sweats.”

You’re about to hang up when you hear Bakugo say something quietly, too muted for you to make out right away.

“Kats?”

He clears his throat before repeating himself, his voice soft and low. “You sure y’want this? I don’t wanna fuck anythin’ up or whatever.”

“You won’t fuck anything up, nothing wrong with friends fucking with no strings attached. I already flashed my tits at you, no turning back now.”

You subtly hear him let go of the breath he was holding and a hollow chuckle, sounding relieved at your answer.

“Good. See ya soon.”

The line ends with a click, leaving you with your thoughts while staring in the bathroom mirror. You didn’t realize how badly you’ve been shaking until you attempt to walk, unexpectedly stumbling like a baby deer on your heels. Once you gather yourself, you exit the bathroom and hurry over to the dance floor. Mina spots you, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips when you approach the group.

“Where the hell have you been?!” She shouts over the music. “I was starting to think you died in there.”

“I’m heading home,” you say while waving your hand, brushing away her worries.

“Oh…oh my god. Is Bakugo coming to get you?!”

“Mina!”

Jiro and Uraraka turn in your direction, yelling in unison. “Bakugo?!?!”

You palm your face, desperately attempting to hide your flared cheeks as the girls squeal and cheer for you.

“Stop it! We’re still just friends!”

Mina clicks her tongue. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said about Kiri a year ago, and now look at us!”

“You gotta let us know how it goes,” Uraraka winks, elbowing you in the rib. "Rumor has it he lives up to his hero name in bed."

Before the interrogation continues, you back away from the group with a smile and turn for the entrance. You slide through the doors and slip out onto the sidewalk and see Bakugo parked out front, smiling as his eyes spot you on the busy street.

Has he ever smiled at you like that before?

He gets out of the car and walks around to greet you.

“Hey Katsu-”

Before you can process what’s happening, Bakugo’s got one hand on your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He gently leans you against the car as he swoops down to place a featherlight kiss to your lips. You squeak before melting into him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Sparks are flying through your whole body - a sensation you haven’t felt for a long time. When the two of you part, his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed and lips parted with shallow breaths.

“Ready to go?” He asks, removing the hand from your neck and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your heart is in your throat, strangling any words you try to say, so instead, you just nod ‘yes.’ Bakugo walks you to the passenger side and opens the door for you, just like any other time you’ve hung out. When he shuts the door and goes to walk to the drivers side, you finally notice he’s wearing the damn grey sweatpants.

The entire drive back to his place, Bakugo’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh. His fingers danced over your skin, playing with the hem of your dress and gingerly squeezing the plush surface every so often. You return the favor, walking your fingers up the inside of his thigh a few times, stopping short of the growing tent in his sweats. Pulling up to his apartment complex seems to take the breath out of both of you. He turns the car off and you sit idly in silence, it's only a minute or two, but feels like a lifetime.

Bakugo gets out first, jogging over to your side to open your door. He takes your hand as you stand, closing the door behind you and swiftly sweeping you off your feet into his arms, bridal style.

"Wow, do all the girls you bring home get this treatment?" you tease, planting a kiss on his warm cheek.

"Never had the pleasure of bringin' a princess home, so no."

That shuts you up and makes you quiver in his hold.

"I'm honored, sir Dynamight. Take me to your castle!" You swoon, dramatically leaning back with a hand over your head.

Bakugo shakes his head and grins, starting to jog through the parking lot and up the stairs with you. You hold onto his shoulders while giggling uncontrollably, ecstatic to see where the night takes you.

One things for certain - you haven't thought about your ex once. And you look forward to keeping it that way.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries

[sjsmith56]

Still Friends

Summary: One shot. Two years after breaking up, the OFC calls her ex-boyfriend, Bucky, for help after her current boyfriend assaults her.

Length: 4.5 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, OFC (unnamed and undescribed), OMC (named, undescribed)

Warnings: Contains description of abusive behaviour and physical assault. OFC experiences angst after realizing leaving Bucky was a mistake.

Author notes: This is nurturing Bucky, who also shows some restraint by accepting his ex-girlfriend needed to work out her issues without pressure from him.

📱 🍨 ❤️‍🩹

As far as breakups go it wasn’t a bad one. There were still tears on both sides but there were also hugs after I told Bucky that I didn’t think we had a future together. Between my job as a travelling sales representative and his work an Avenger we didn’t see each other much. The sex was great, but it wasn’t enough to base a real relationship on. He was sad about my decision, but he helped me pack my things that I had left at his place, and we talked about where we went sideways. There was no blame; it was just how it went. As I stood at the door and hugged him again, he bent his head down and whispered in my ear.

“If you ever need me, I’ll be there for you. We’re still friends, sweetheart. That will never change.”

That was almost two years ago. A few months later, I accepted a job as a regional sales manager, in another city. There was less travel and I had time to date. Nothing serious developed but I was okay with that. Bucky was in the news every so often, only now the news stories were about the Avenger Bucky Barnes and not the former Winter Soldier. I was so proud of him and occasionally sent him a text message congratulating him on a job well done. He would send back pictures of him and Sam with the team they had assembled. He looked happy and I was glad for him.

Then I met a guy, Bryce Andrews, a very charming pharmaceutical sales manager. We hit it off quickly. Looking back now, maybe it was a bit too quickly, but at the time it just seemed like things were falling into place at the right moment. It wasn’t until Bucky and Sam were on a publicity tour of various cities and contacted me to arrange to meet up that things with Bryce took a turn.

We were at dinner in a restaurant. During the time between our plates being cleared and our desserts arriving I received a text message, and several more in a row.

“Excuse me,” I said, grabbing my phone. “Someone must need me.”

I looked. They started from Bucky: Going to be in your city next week for some publicity. Can we get together? That was followed by a text from Sam with the same message. Then texts from both asking if now was a bad time to call, since I hadn’t responded.

“Who is it?” asked Bryce, seeming curious, but good natured about the interruption.

“Oh, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes,” I replied. “They’re coming on a publicity tour and wanted to get together. Do you mind if I call them?”

He blinked his eyes, then narrowed them. Now, in our line of work, especially considering how much networking we did outside of normal office hours, it wasn’t unusual for either of us to make or receive calls to and from other representatives. It was part of the job. Even though this would be a personal call, I didn’t think he would mind.

“We’re eating,” he said.

“Well, then let me text them that I’ll call them later,” I said, eager to please him.

A grunt was his answer, but I sent them a text message that I couldn’t talk at the moment, but I would phone later. I put my phone away, our dessert was served, and we ate, talking about all manner of things, except it seemed I was doing most of the talking. He was quieter than normal but not in a way that alarmed me. Since we met at the restaurant, after driving our own cars there, we said our good nights and I started my car up, then set up a conference call with Sam and Bucky so we could talk as I drove. It was great hearing from them, and we decided to see each other that following week. I really wanted them to meet Bryce, hoping they would get along. It was all set by the time I got home, parked my car, and locked it before I walked to my building, where I was surprised to see Bryce waiting for me.

“What’s up?” I asked, puzzled.

“Show me your phone,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Why?”

“Did you talk to them?”

Just the way he asked, set me off. “Yeah, I told you I was.”

“Are you cheating on me?”

“What?” I couldn’t believe he would ask something like that. “I haven’t seen them in two years. How could I cheat on you with friends I haven’t seen in that long?”

Suddenly, his hand was on my throat as he pushed me against the wall. “I always knew you weren’t over him. You’re going back to him, aren’t you? You’re going back to that killer?”

I struggled against Bryce, trying to push him off me. This was bizarre behaviour, and I was getting scared.

“No, I just set up meeting them for drinks, you, me, and them. That’s all. What’s got into you?”

“You’re mine! Do you hear me? You text them back and cancel it.”

“No, they’re my friends. I want to see them.”

The next thing I knew I was on the ground, my head ringing from where he struck me. A neighbour came out of the security door then, quickly assessing the situation. He gave me enough time to get through the door and close it before Bryce could follow. My now ex-boyfriend banged on the glass, his face full of unrestrained fury so I called the police and reported that he hit me, and I was afraid for my safety. They came within minutes, arrested him and I went up to my apartment, packed a bag and got in my car. As I drove, I phoned Bucky back. It took several rings before he answered, sounding like he had been sleeping.

“Sweetheart? Why are you phoning so late?”

“Do you still have access to a quinjet?”

Immediately, his voice changed, not sounding so sleepy anymore. “What’s wrong?”

“My boyfriend. He went off the deep end about us meeting next week. He hit me, Bucky. I had to call the police on him. I’m scared to stay home. I’m in my car right now but it’s too far to drive to where you are so I was hoping you could come and get me.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

I told him and he was quiet for a moment. He must have been looking it up on a tablet because he told me the name of a private airport about 15 minutes drive away. Told me to go there, stay in the car with the doors locked and wait for him. He would be there as soon as he could. When I arrived, I parked away from the other vehicles, figuring he would need room to land the quinjet. As I sat there in the dark my phone began to sound and I could see text after text from Bryce.

I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.

Please, call me or send me a text.

I’m being charged with assault. You sure you want to lay that on me?

Why don’t you answer?

Listen, if I say I’m sorry and promise to go for counselling can you drop the charges? I might lose my job over this.

There was nothing after that and I realized they had probably taken his phone away. I received another text, this one from Sam.

Almost there. Where are you?

In the parking lot, away from the other vehicles. Red Lexus SUV. I’ll flash the lights.

When I saw the lights of the quinjet approaching I flashed my brights and stepped out of the vehicle. Bucky was at the controls and landed right beside me. The back ramp came down and both stepped out immediately. As soon as I saw them, I began to cry. All I remember at that moment, was feeling their arms surround me, hugging me, and murmuring that I was alright. Sam stepped back, took my car keys and went to the trunk for my bag while Bucky led me into the quinjet. As he buckled me into a seat, he looked carefully at my face, gently touching it. It hurt and I winced.

“He did this to you?”

There was no anger in his voice as he asked, but I knew he was angry, just by the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes. I nodded. Sam strode on with my bag and his phone at his ear.

“Red Lexus SUV, at the location I told you. I have the keys, so you’ll have to transport the vehicle with a tow truck or flatbed trailer. I want it picked up and taken to a secure location within 24 hours.”

He was quiet while they repeated it back to him, then he hung up and kneeled in front of me, doing the same thing Bucky did, except from the mindset of his former para-rescue occupation, asking me if I blacked out, or greyed out, and if my head or neck hurt. When I winced at his touch he shook his head, obviously angry. Then he had me follow his upright finger with my eyes without moving my head. Gently, he cupped my cheek with his palm then stood up and looked meaningfully at Bucky.

“He doesn’t get away with it,” he said to his partner. “You know that type of reaction is jealousy, and it will just get worse now that he’s let his façade slip. I wish we had done something sooner.”

“What do you mean, sooner?” I didn’t quite understand what Sam meant.

Bucky let out a deep breath. “When you first told us about him, we checked him out. I know, that was technically spying but we still care about you and weren’t going to let just anyone be your boyfriend.”

“You’ve been interfering in my love life?” I could feel the anger in me ratcheting up to 100. “You had no right!”

“You’re right,” agreed Bucky. “But we just wanted you to be safe and happy with a good guy. Bryce seemed to be alright but there were moments in his past that made us wonder if he was as nice as he presented himself to be. What happened tonight, proved he wasn’t.”

Even though they were right, I was still angry, and I sat there with my arms folded, fuming. Bucky returned to the quinjet controls while Sam sat next to me and buckled in. To his credit, he didn’t try to talk me out of being upset at them. Half an hour later we were at the airport in the city where they were appearing. Sam called for an Uber. As we waited for it to arrive, he and Bucky stood closely together, murmuring, looking at me every so often. Sighing, I went over to them.

“If you’re going to talk about me, at least do it to my face,” I said, irritated.

“Just discussing the sleeping arrangements,” said Bucky. “We have a double King room. You can have one bed; Sam will take the other and I’ll take the floor.”

“I can pay for my own room,” I replied.

“No, what if he finds out you’re here?” asked Sam. “You’re staying with us. You can take a few days off of work, can’t you?”

“Possibly, if my boss is okay with it. Where do you go next?”

Sam rattled off the next three towns they were in before they got to where I lived. They both promised to help me deal with Bryce if he showed up. By the time we got to their hotel I was beat. Bucky went into the bathroom and came out several minutes later.

“I’ve run a bath for you,” he said gently. “Take your time and relax. We’ll talk when you’re done.”

I would have argued but he seemed so sincere that I grabbed my pyjamas and went into the bathroom. When I came out, the TV was on, and Sam was on top of the other bed, in sweatpants and a T-shirt. The other king-sized bed had been turned down, but Bucky wasn’t in the room.

“He went to grab some snacks,” explained Sam. “Get comfortable. Anything you want to watch?”

I shook my head as I dropped my clothes off on my suitcase and climbed into the other bed, with my phone in hand. There were no other messages from Bryce. Hopefully, that meant he was in custody and not plotting his revenge. The sound of the door being unlocked made both of us look at it and we watched as Bucky came in, carrying a bag and a covered paper cup. He toed his boots off and approached the beds. He placed the paper cup on the nightstand nearest me then reached inside the bag, pulling out a wrapped package, and handing it to Sam.

“Po’ Boy, with lots of hot sauce,” he said. He smiled at me, pulling out a small carton of rocky road ice cream and a spoon. “Comfort food, if I remember correctly.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, taking it from him. “It is.”

He pulled out a submarine sandwich for himself, then two bottles of beer, handing one to Sam. I looked at the paper cup which he had placed on the nightstand nearest me.

“Hot chocolate for you, to warm you up between brain freezes.”

“You still remember?”

“Of course.” He gestured to the space on the bed next to me and I patted it. “I would never forget that.”

Bryce never remembered my love of rocky road ice cream and hot chocolate. In fact, he thought it was stupid that I needed to warm up between bites of ice cream whenever I was feeling stressed. My mouth started to tremble and before I knew it the tears started to fall. Both men placed their food down and sat so they were on either side of me. Sam took my ice cream and put it on the nightstand then put his arm around my shoulders while Bucky held my hands.

“Why did I ever break up with you?” I whimpered, feeling pretty sorry for myself. “You both came out late to get me, then you make a special trip to get my comfort foods and act like its no big deal that you remember it two years after we broke up.”

“Hey, I told you that we’re still friends,” said Bucky, in a voice that was so kind. “I still love you and care about you. Sam still cares. It was our phone call that made Bryce react so poorly.”

“No, don’t blame yourselves,” I said emphatically. “If it wasn’t this, it would have been something else that set him off. I look back now at what attracted me to him and it’s obvious that he wasn’t sincere. It was all an act and I bought into it because maybe I was still trying to convince myself that breaking up with you was the right thing to do. The fact that you two were still watching out for me means that you saw through him long before I did.”

They glanced at each other in the way that good friends do when they need to say something unpleasant to another friend. Sam cleared his throat first.

“We didn’t have anything concrete on him when you two first started to go out. On the surface, everything seemed good and as long as he treated you right, we respected your privacy.”

“But?” I looked at him, then at Bucky. “There is a but, right?”

Bucky let his breath out. “There was a complaint laid against him about twelve years ago, when he was in college. Another student, a woman, said he wouldn’t leave her alone. Always sending her gifts, calling her and checking on her location. It came to a head at a function where her brother hugged her, and Bryce punched him, apparently thinking he was a rival for her affections. He went for anger management counselling and since then his behaviour was acceptable. Because he didn’t seem to be obsessive about you, we figured whatever his issues were then were no longer a concern. We were wrong.” Gently, he pushed some hair over my ear. “You got hurt because we gave him the benefit of the doubt. We’re both so sorry.”

I looked at the ice cream and reached for it, jamming a spoonful into my mouth. After the third spoonful I started to cry again and this time Sam took the ice cream, put the lid back on and stuck it in the freezer portion of the mini bar. He grabbed his jacket, his Po’ Boy, and left me there with Bucky.

“Come here,” he said gently, leaning back against the headboard and pulling me into his lap. “Don’t blame yourself for him being abusive. We should have paid attention to our first instincts about him.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that.” He felt so warm and secure as I snuggled deeper into his arms. “I’m upset with myself for thinking that what we had wasn’t enough. Being with you here right now, it’s obvious that I was fooling myself.”

“Sweetheart, at the time, you had valid concerns about us,” he answered. “If you recall, I didn’t try very hard to change your mind. What you were feeling obviously resonated with me.”

“And now? Do you miss me?”

“All the time.” He kissed my head. “But I knew it was important for you to find yourself again, so I let you go.”

I hesitated before asking my next question. “Are you seeing anyone?”

I could see his smile begin. “No, haven’t been looking, either.”

“Are we still just friends?”

“We’ll always be friends, I hope. Do you want it to be more?”

His right hand was rubbing my left arm as I contemplated his question. Had I missed him? Honestly, yes. He was always good at this, comforting me and validating my feelings whenever I felt insecure. How had I not considered this emotional aspect of our previous relationship when I ended it? Was I so wrapped up in my career at that time that I overlooked how good he could make me feel, not just with this type of intimacy but with our sexual relationship? Bryce didn’t even come close to Bucky in those aspects, nor in any other aspect that counted.

“Yes, I want it to be more.”

“What about your work? I don’t want you choosing between your career and me.”

“My career ….” I sighed. “It’s okay but I think I would like a change, especially since I don’t want to be in the same town as Bryce anymore. I’d rather be closer to you.”

“You’re sure?” His blue eyes were focused on me. “Is this what you really want? I’m not a rebound, am I?”

“No, you were the one that got away. I’m sorry I ever broke up with you. You gave me the time and distance to work it out and it just took me this long to realize that you’re the one I want to be with.”

He caressed the side of my head, as he gazed into my eyes. This is what I had really missed, having someone making me feel like I was the most important person in their life. Even when I ended it before he didn’t stop liking me, constantly reassuring me that we were still friends. Our lips met and for the first time in two years I felt another part of what I had been missing. His kiss was gentle and loving. When I winced after he touched the part of my jaw that still hurt, he stopped and hugged me again. Then he made sure that I was looking directly at him.

“I never stopped loving you and wanting you back,” he said quietly. “We’ll make it work this time. I promise.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

Bucky’s phone sounded and he picked it up, reading the text. “Sam wants to know if we’ve kissed and made up.”

“Yeah, let him come back,” I replied. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, either. But it’s just cuddling tonight.”

He smiled in that sexy, lopsided way that I missed so much, as he texted Sam.

“I’ll get us our own room for the other nights, if you want.”

I was definitely okay with that. Sam returned, immediately noticing we were both happier. He offered to get a different room but we both told him it was late, and we would wait until the following night. Bucky quickly ate his sub, I finished my hot chocolate, leaving the ice cream for another time. We all brushed our teeth then got into bed, Sam on his own and Bucky sharing his bed with me. It felt great to have him spoon behind me again, and I slept well.

I gave my notice to my boss the next morning, who was sorry to lose me but when I told him what happened he offered to kick Bryce’s ass. Apparently, he also thought my ex-boyfriend had some issues with jealousy, explaining how Bryce had threatened several guys at the staff Christmas party about being overly friendly with me. Just like Bucky and Sam, he felt guilty about not taking it more seriously.

Three days later, on our return to the town where I lived, there had been no word from Bryce, although I was called in by a detective to answer some questions. It seemed that Bryce claimed he lost his temper after finding out I was cheating on him. Both Bucky and Sam, who accompanied me, showed the detective their text messages as proof that they only asked about meeting up with both of us. My text messages were also taken as evidence. My neighbour had already given his statement which verified that he witnessed Bryce hitting me hard enough to knock me down. They had security camera footage of that and of him grabbing me by the throat. His excuse wasn’t enough to justify the extreme use of force he displayed. From the police station I went with Bucky and Sam to the hospital where they were doing a PR visit in several wards, visiting sick kids and veterans with health issues.

Instead of staying at a hotel I offered my apartment to both Bucky and Sam, as I had two bedrooms. Since it was the last stop of the tour, they offered to help me pack up my possessions and arrange for movers to clear me out of the apartment. When we pulled up in the Uber, after the hospital visit, I was disturbed but not surprised to see Bryce waiting for me. He scowled when Bucky and Sam got out of the vehicle with me.

“Where the hell have you been? I want to talk to you.”

“Haven’t had any messages since you were first arrested but that could be because you were ordered not to contact me,” I replied, attempting to walk past him. He grabbed my elbow and immediately, Bucky and Sam grabbed him. I glared at Bryce. “Take your hands off me.”

“Not until you tell me where you’ve been.”

Bucky started to speak but I interrupted him. “Don’t, he’s trying to goad you two into hitting him. Notice how he’s in position in front of the security cameras? That’s why the charges I filed against him will stick because they caught everything he did to me.” They both let him go and I pulled my arm out of his grip. “Get this through your thick head. The moment you accused me of cheating we were done. You made a bad situation worse by grabbing me around the neck and then hitting me hard enough to knock me down. Compounding that is the fact that I found out you threatened some of my work colleagues not to be friendly with me. I also found out about the woman you harassed in college and how you hit her brother for hugging her. There is something seriously wrong with you, Bryce, if you think I’m going to overlook all that and allow you into my life again.”

“But I love you,” he said. “I thought we were going to get married and have a family someday.”

“No, we’re not and you don’t love me. You don’t even know my favourite colour or my comfort food.”

He stared blankly at me. With a sound of disgust, I pushed past him, and he tried to grab me again. I turned and kicked him in the groin, making him fall to his knees while he held what was left of his dignity, which wasn’t much to begin with. As he gasped for air, Bucky held the door open for me and Sam as we entered the building. Then I closed the security door, shaking my head at the sight of Bryce, still on his knees. I phoned the detective and told him about the encounter, knowing that Bryce had been warned about contacting me. Assured that a unit was coming to pick him up, I left him there and the three of us took the elevator to my floor. Bucky put his arm around me and kissed me on the head.

“I’m sure glad we stayed friends after we broke up,” he said. “You got a mean streak in you.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Baby, that was sexy as hell.”

He kissed me again, and squeezed me against his side, a big grin on his face. Sam was also quite impressed. By the time we got up to the apartment we were in a good mood, and we enjoyed ourselves that evening with pizza, beer and a movie. Sam stayed for a couple of days before being called for a mission. He flew the quinjet back while Bucky took some personal leave to help me pack up.

If ever there was proof that he was committing to us, that action alone proved it. By the end of the week, my furniture had been picked up, my car was packed, and we prepared to drive back to the Avengers compound, where some new personnel quarters had been built. The individual units, complete with patios and yards, were just what we needed to begin living together again. I got a job on the compound, heading up the purchasing department, sourcing vendors, negotiating prices, and arranging for delivery of all sorts of materials needed for the Avengers. The best part was that with living there, I saw Bucky a lot more, as he followed through on his promise to make it work. We were still friends, of the best kind.

One Shots Masterlist

Please share this story by reblogging.

[shysublimecoffee]

Marinette receiving the Ladybug mantle was an absolute mistake. I watched the special, and honestly, gurl is doing the most—and for what? A guy? One dude, and she’s ready to throw her common sense out the window. Like, how has Hawkmoth/Gabriel not used his own son more often as leverage against her by now? That’s villainy 101, and he’s just sitting on it. Like for the amount of times I've seen this show rag on ChatNoir because of his weakness in romance when that Ladybug biggest weakness not CN lol.

At this point, I don’t even care about what Marinette’s going through. Whatever emotional investment I had in her? Long gone. She’s out here spinning lies on top of lies, desperately trying to hold together her crumbling Adrien-obsessed empire, and for what? She lost. Game over.

Now, if this were a story about a girl slowly getting corrupted, spiraling into villainy, and intentionally written as a downfall arc? No problem. That would’ve been a compelling narrative with a real lesson for kids about the consequences of obsession and dishonesty. But nope, instead we’re stuck with this mess where her choices make it harder and harder to root for her.

Marinette's speech at the press conference—“Ladybug holds the truth, she holds the truth” —had me scratching my head cause it sound more like a villain then a hero. Like, did the writers forget she’s supposed to have hero-like qualities? She’s meant to be the messenger, the symbol of hope, the hero. But how often does she actually display that in her own show?

Lately, it feels like being Ladybug is more of an obligatory chore for her than something that brings her real joy or fulfillment. Isn’t the whole point of magical girls to inspire, to help others, and to grow through their journey? Where’s the sense of accomplishment, the spark, the joy of making a difference? It’s like they’ve stripped her of everything that should make her role uplifting and meaningful.

I've seen here and there about how MC was never meant to come off that way or the writers are trying to make her more complex or how dare you do you dislike complex female characters or the most used it was never her intention to come off that way it was a mistake.

I want you to picture this without the music just dialogue cause i'm going to be clearcut about this.

Ladybug went to an orphaned, grieving child—one who had been locked away in solitary confinement, surrounded by nothing but white walls and being sensory deprived—and lied to him about his father being a hero. Let that sink in. Gabriel, who systematically abused his own son, was painted as a noble martyr by Ladybug.

Adrien, a kid who was finally starting to question his father’s authority, even beginning to tear down the oppressive image of the man who controlled and hurt him, is now trapped in an even tighter mental cage. After all, if Paris sees his father as a hero, a savior, how could he possibly feel justified in blaming or resenting the man? Gabriel is now a martyr in the eyes of the world, and Adrien is left to wrestle with guilt and shame for ever having cruel thoughts about someone everyone else idolizes.

Ladybug’s decision to perpetuate this lie doesn’t just protect Gabriel’s image—it messes with Adrien’s already fragile mind. Instead of helping him heal or giving him the freedom to process the truth, she’s reinforced the very chains Gabriel used to control him. It’s not heroic; it’s delusional and harmful, all in the name of preserving some twisted version of peace in her head.

You want me to feel pity for a girl who I'm sorry if I sound harsh to yall at the end of the day just want to keep the peace to fill her delusions that everything is going to work out in her part at the end when really she's just the worst type of coward there is when it comes to confrontations lmao. Accountability? She avoids them like they’re some kind of plague. It’s almost impressive how someone can masquerade as a hero while being utterly incapable of facing the hard truths. Lmao, sure, let’s all pity her.

Honestly, in the earlier seasons, at least Marinette seemed to feel bad about her mistakes. Now? She’s only gotten worse. I headcanon that receiving the Ladybug mantle or becoming the Guardian inflated her ego, giving her a power trip. With no proper mentor to hold her accountable and everyone automatically deferring to her leadership, who’s left to challenge her? Well maybe CN if he has the guts to do so but he'd rather cower into his shell lol.

In hindsight, I don’t think Marinette should’ve become Ladybug—not because she lacks the capability, but because the role itself seems to have worsened her as a person. Instead of growing into the hero I though she was meant to be, she’s devolved, losing some of the humility and self-awareness she had at the start of the series.

Let’s be real—we’re in Season 6 now, and we all know the writers aren’t going to make Marinette face any real consequences. The whole universe bends over backward to accommodate her. If you’ve seen Season 5, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

That said, I’ll give credit where it’s due: the special was fun. Yes, despite all my ranting, I actually enjoyed it because it was funny in its own way.

At this point, though, I’m only sticking around for Adrien and Lila. Honestly? I’m rooting for Lila to be the one to drop the truth bomb and expose everything. It would be chef’s kiss poetic if she ended up being the one to set things straight. Lmao.

P.s For anyone who thinks there is a dilemma to be had about the whole thing its really not lol rip the bandaid off.

It reeks of a megalomaniac in the making, making her come off like a gaslighting psychopath. Ironically, it reminds me of Gabriel—especially with the way he used similar wording. Honestly, are we sure Marinette isn’t Gabriel’s true daughter? Because the parallels are man.

I’m genuinely angry that she is the one everyone feels sorry for, and it’s only because the show is stuck in her perspective. If we spent even a fraction of the screen time on Adrien’s pain, it would make for a far more compelling story. It’s infuriating. Marinette isn’t some helpless sheep/damsel victim here—no one forced her into this role at gunpoint. She made her choices, knowingly and willingly. How dare she act like the weight of the world was thrust upon her without her consent? When she very much messed with a grieving kid here?

And yet, Adrien’s pain—real, tangible, and far more tragic—is constantly sidelined. He’s an orphan, being lied to by nearly everyone around him, adults and teens alike, and his suffering is treated as a subplot to Marinette’s endless drama. Why should the audience feel more for her than for the boy who’s lost everything? Why is his pain has to be centered to her??

This isn't a small mistake this has far reaching consequences if the show had the balls to do it to lie to the entire world over a man who terrorized on people fear.

If Adrien ever became a villain, I wouldn’t blame him. In fact, I’d understand and give him the free ticket to go ahead and cataclysm and burned the world .

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hii i love your writing so much! this is my first ever request so sorry if it sounds weird!

can i please request some general dating headcanons for (older) rise donnie? for example, what hes like as a boyfriend, the types of dates he likes, his quirks etc in a relationship!

thank you 🫶💜🐢

Dating Headcanons (Fluff/Angst)

Future!Donatello x reader

A/N: You’re request doesn’t sound weird at all, so no worries💜 Now, I would usually post this with a picture of one of the turtles, with a somewhat matching tone. But since there’s no official illustrations of Future!Donatello (as far as I’m aware), and I don’t feel safe using someone’s art without permission, I’m just going to use this shot of Donnie. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy💜

Warnings: The Krang future is quite a bit more angst than the good future, so if you’re only looking for the sweet stuff, just head straight for that💜

Krang future:

Dating in a Krang infested world, living in a bunker deep under earth, was not easy for anybody. It is a stressful and depressing way of living, where everyday is about survival, with little no time left for love. Yet, emotional beings always seem to find a way for such things, even in the hardest of times. And so did you and Donnie.

With Donnie being the main reason that the bunker was functioning - having been the one that built the whole thing - your boyfriend was often stuck in his lap, working not just for his own joy, but for the survival of all that called the bunker home. It was not easy for Donnie, as one small mistake could mean the death of all. And so, your job quickly became helping Donnie destress, keeping him above and sane from all that was going on around him. It was your job to make sure that Donnie was able to move forward, even if it sometimes felt useless. And that wasn’t easy for either of you.

Dating in a world overrun by Krangs, isn’t really like dating in a normal world. You don’t go on dates, and rarely have time to actually spend any form of intimate time together. No, dating in a world of Krangs meant finding a person, who you wished to survive with. It meant looking out for each other before anybody else, and at times even giving up rescurses for the one you loved. Which you and Donnie had done plenty of times, giving up food, water and time for each other.

Though Donnie may be tired most of the time, it didn’t make him any less caring. He had his own way of showing it though. He had thousands of ways to check up on your wellbeing, going to somewhat drastic lengths in order to make sure that you were safe in your small home in the bunker. He was absolutely against the idea of you going to the surface with any of his brothers for supply runs, almost getting to the point of panic attacks.

On the rare occasions that you and Donnie actually had time to act like an actual couple, you didn’t do much. You would usually cuddle and enjoy the company of one another, before eventually falling asleep in each other's arms. It wasn’t often that the two of you got to feel safe like that, and it was increasingly rare that you would feel as well rested, as you did after a cuddle session with Donnie.

Good future:

In a world in which you and Donnie didn’t have to worry about much more than whether you should be drinking Coca Cola or Pepsi with your pizza in the evening, the two of you had the time along with the mental and emotional excuse to build your relationship in a healthy manner. Both you and Donnie had your own interests, in which you respected and engaged each other. You would let Donnie talk hours on end about what he had been working on in his lab, and in turn he would do the same for you, often listening while tinkering with what he had just been talking about. It just made it easier for him to listen.

Donnie was for the most part a very relaxed boyfriend. He knew you were a grown adult, capable of taking care of yourself, allowing you large amounts of independence without getting bothered or insecure. However, Donnie could have his random moments of overprotection. The weather had been particularly bad, and it took you a little longer than usual to get? Donnie would start calculating the chances of you having gotten hurt, driving himself to a point of wild worry. That was usually right before you would make it through the door, where your now overly analytical and worried boyfriend would check you over five times, just to be sure that you were in fact okay.

It’s rare that you and Donnie would actually go out for dates. Donnie is generally most comfortable in his own home, and the thought of going out, being around a bunch of people, when your dates were supposed to be about just you and him, just didn’t sit right with Donnie. It was no secret that his social batteries had a tendency to run out fast when out and about, so he would much rather spend the night home alone with you, watching a movie, eating comfort food, or geeking out over something together. And it also tended to be much cheaper, which was a win for the both of you.

Donnie has never been much for PDA. He’s very affectionate when the two of you are alone, but when other people are around and he starts masking, he tends to get physically distant, and will often have a hard time with things touching him. However, he’s always up for a good banter. A small argument between the two of you, with well thought out points, that never went beyond smiles, actually taking joy in whatever back and furth you had, was a kind of affection Donnie often engaged in, no matter who was around. Other’s quickly learned to just let the two of you at it, and that those smiles were actually real. You guys enjoyed it. It was fun, and both of you understood what was going on. No need to spoil a good and functioning thing.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

Fixing MHA's Ending So It Follows Through With Its Core Themes (And It Basically Fixes Itself)

I don't like retconning at the best of times, but turning what started as essentially a Hope focused narrative into a "realistic" tragedy at the very last second is some wild work.

So I'm gonna do what I do best as a fic writer and fix it!!!!!

The Summary

So, I'm pretty sure all of us were on mostly the same page up until the very last panels of the Shigaraki fight (Having AFO being just "born evil" was probably the start of things not being great, but I'm willing to let that slide because it doesn't really effect the overall function of the story that much). Once that and the epilogue started is where I mostly saw people being like ????????? to a lot of choices, so I'm going to focus on those two sections only.

We're gonna be rewriting:

-The deaths of the Villains + Kurogiri (obvs)

-The overall post-War actions and reactions

-The continued existence of the Commission and the Hero Rankings

-Hawk's fate

-Spinner's fate

-A liiiiitle tweak to Chisaki's fate

-Slight tweaks to the Todorokis

-and finally What to DO with the Villains + Kurogiri now that they're alive

And we'll be starting with...

Toga

Now for a battle that was so beautiful, this really did end up completely falling apart.

I'm not gonna justify every single Villain Rescue I do, but Toga's really comes down to one simple reason for me:

Her bullies literally wanted her to die as atonement.

You don't...typically make your character's fate agree with their bullies or abusers (otherwise???? why are you explicitly portraying them as bullies and abusers to the audience if you want us to ultimately agree with them?????)

Throughout most of the story prior to this, Hori made it a staple in the show that dying for the cause, hurting yourself for the cause, martyring yourself or otherwise telling someone to kill themselves for the cause is a vile thing to do. So, it makes ZERO sense why he would suddenly retcon this at such a critical moment, especially since he already set the stage for it to be wrong in the first place.

(also does anyone also think it was weird/creepy that Hori LITERALLY has her do this with Twice and she very explicitly says "Don't be stupid I don't have to give all of my blood away"? No? Just me?)

Everything happens the same, she still thinks she's sacrificing herself, "If only, if only", blah blah blah

AND THEN...

Hawks

This is such low-hanging fruit plot-wise it actually feels offensive that it went nowhere

Nothing happens with Hawks. We all say it, fans and non-fans alike. He is wasted potential incarnate. His story is a circle and it so easily did not have to be that way because of one simple writing decision:

Hawks and Toga share a blood type.

Up until now, it really did seem like Hawks learned nothing from Jin's death. The first thing he says when he sees the clones is, "We have to kill them now!" But then, picture him still battered and broken from his fight with AFO, wingless, but there is still SOMETHING he can do to save someone's life.

And he puts the needle in his arm instead, and before she can question it, he tells her Jin would want her to live. He's not gonna make the same mistake twice.

(I also think it'd be nice if he said something like how lucky she is, to really go full circle with the Jin story, but I'm not trying dialogue here lol)

And that leads us to...

Shigaraki (and Kurogiri!)

This is a double feature because with the way I'm doing it, I can't save one without the other.

So, something that happens during this and is super anti-climactic and seemingly pointless is Midoriya losing his hands. He gets em back in like 2 seconds, because Eri gives him a surprise rewind almost immediately after. The actual point of it was just to show the brand new rule that physical damage that happens in the vestige world also happens in the real world, so that killing Shigaraki a few chapters later would still make sense.

We're gonna get rid of that rule entirely and just say that Midoriya does not lose his actual arms in the fight, and psychological damage in a ghost world does not reflect physically in reality (or idk. If you DO want that to happen, then just say the embers of the vestiges protected him one last time or something).

And because he doesn't lose his arms, Eri still has a surprise rewind to use.

But before we get to that, we actually have to save Shigaraki. So, here's the super complicated rescue rewrite I came up with. Ready?

Kicking AFO out of his brain and giving him back full control over his body simply does not kill him.

That's it!!!! That's really all that needed to happen!! It was a very conscious choice to make that kill him! It's actually more work and details to kill Shigaraki than it is to save him!! Hori already went out of his way to say that Nana's vestige protected him so that he wasn't completely swallowed by AFO, just so he could say goodbye before fading away anyway. What if, considering the fact that hatred of Nana is what damned him, love FROM Nana actually just plain ol saves him? Full stop? We come full circle. It would make it a fantastic mirror to the Todoroki fight and solidify the theme that love from your/a family, even a broken one, will save you!!

And then further in the background, Bakugou doesn't randomly kill (?????? Even after reading it again I'm still really confused about how Kurogiri dies. I think this is what happens?????) Kurogiri, and instead starts to lose control like they feared. But then, refusing to give up on him, Aizawa hits him with the now-available Rewind Juice and it finally, finally stabilizes his mind for good.

The day is saved.

And that just leaves...

Touya

Unfortunately my stupid husband can't stop trying to kill himself for 2 seconds despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise, so there's really nothing I can do about the extent of his injuries

However, there's LOTS I can do about the way we're treating said injuries! =D

First of all, because Touya is my favorite, I do wanna allow myself the space to briefly rant about how his entire situation was handled because brother. first of all. It's so incredibly obvious that he was supposed to die on the battlefield with his comrades. That man had no fuckin eyeballs by the end of that fight, bffr. And then it was like Hori remembered the thing about the noodles and was like 'oh shit I better at least wrap that up lol' so he brought him back--eyeballs and TEARDUCTS magically intact btw so naturally the audience with reading comprehension was like 'oh he's healing somehow I guess'--just to get that specific moment on the books (and maybe just to draw Touya in his Batman Who Laughs era because I mean he does look pretty sick in the tank) and then turned around and killed him again. With no explanation what the random functioning tearducts and magical regrowth of eyeballs was about.

Like...my guy, you ain't gotta do all that. Again, it's so much harder and more complicated to kill him than it is to keep him alive. Not to mention he was killed OFF-SCREEN. WE DON'T EVEN GET TO SEE ANY--IF ANY--CONVERSATIONS HE HAS WITH SHOUTO OR HIS FAMILY, WHICH WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF NOT KILLING HIM ON THE BATTLEFIELD. INSTEAD OF THE SEXY SHIRTLESS SERVING-FACE-AT-A-FUNERAL IMAGE OF TOUYA WE COULD'VE SEEN A FLASHBACK OF THEM TALKING AND HIM SMILING AND BEING HAPPY WITH THEM FOR WHATEVER TIME THEY HAD AND THAT STILL WOULD'VE BEEN MORE SATISFYING. Y'KNOW. BECAUSE THAT WAS THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT OF THE TODOROKI PLOTLINE?????????????VSSSBBNM,.;;PUSAAXXGHIIRWDFGG

But anyway.

Fixing Touya's death is really simple. We can do two things, actually.

Work with the deus-ex Ice Quirk a little bit, make the Phoenix Theory canon. Ice heals him, the tank is a giant fridge. Lo and behold, it would explain why he magically healed eyeballs and tearducts. It's an incredibly slow process, but eventually he'd heal enough to be out of the tank and in a normal hospital setting for the rest of his recovery. It also gives him a goal to pursue for the future, I.E learning how to control the new side of his powers and mayybeeee getting interested in studying Quirk Biology in the process 👀

He simply!!!!!! Doesn't die!!!!!!!!! Out of ALLLLLLL the MHA characters, I would 100% believe you if you told me that Touya Todoroki nevertheless persisted. That's like...his entire character. You don't even need to give me a reason. His entire character up until now has been 'the one that's somehow still alive' to the point that the fucking Dr. Eggman lookin ass mad scientist that brought him back to life in the first place (in WORSE condition) was like 'yeah no idea how he's still here that's scary'. I'm sorry, the entire fucking show I've had to see A. An old man without a face with a back alley ventilator system shoved directly into his stoma that's somehow fine and talking perfectly, and B. Another old man missing his ENTIRE digestive tract for years and is still up and walking around somehow with no G-tube or colostomy bag to be seen, so I think by the power of God and Anime, Touya could probably survive his injuries and it would be within the realm of believability for the show. In fact, it's LESS believable that he stayed alive through all that by spite alone and then when he finally gets offered love and acceptance, that determination and tenacity to stay alive suddenly goes out the window. If anything, it should've made him MORE determined to live.

Sorry I got carried away with that one. But there. Everyone is saved and the core themes are intact.

Now we just have...

The Overall Actions and Reactions Post-War

Gonna sum this up really quickly:

-The cameras never turned off. They're built for Quirk resistance because they're a fucking newscast in a Hero society if their technology broke every time there were heavy Quirk exchanges there would never be any fucking news. Making them conveniently lose footage so none of the civs can see the Villains humanity is just rubbing salt in the wound and serves no narrative purpose in line with pre-established themes. Everyone saw what was recorded, and it helped the Villains' cases for rehabilitation.

-We do not censor out this battle in future history books. Everyone is very familiar with the final fight and the events and circumstances leading up to it. It is not erased from public memory as soon as possible. In fact, it's frequently studied and referenced when making new policies to avoid making the same mistakes. Hori. Wtf.

-We do not reinstate the Hero Rankings in any way shape or form, and Shouto is the biggest voice in dismantling this system. Voila, this is now actually the story of how they all became the greatest Heroes, because they aren't ranked. They're all literally the greatest Heroes, and so will everyone after them.

-This IS actually portrayed in the epilogue, but yes, let's be LESS reliant on Heroes and police and MORE invested in the community!!!!!!! Even more so than what's portrayed!!!!! Take another bit from Spider-Man: Anyone can wear the mask!!!!!! Let's make a world where Heroes have too much time on their hands and not just make more of them, right????????? Remember that????????

-WE DO NOT REINSTATE THE COMMISSION. WE GOT RID OF THEM CORRUPT HOES FOR A REASON!!!!!! NO A CHANGE OF THE GUARD IS NOT ENOUGH TO FIX IT WE'RE NOT 7YRS OLD!!!!! HORI. WTF. The only thing I want them to be in charge of is licensing Heroes. I want these fuckers to be the DMV of the Hero world and that's IT!!!!!!!

Which brings us to...

Hawks' Fate

I don't even fuck with this man like that, but he did not deserve to become CEO of the organization that groomed and abused him since he was a child when all he wanted to do was chase tail and fuck off to a beach somewhere. Considering the fact that he also, like, killed people he shouldn't have, let him retire like Endeavor, please. We're done giving the old guard power and privilege, especially when they explicitly did not and do not want it (and when they did have it, they misused it). The only thing I want this man involved with is Toga's recovery alongside Uraraka. Specifically, I want him paying for it and anything else she might need. Fuck it, you know what, make HIM Endeavor's personal aide instead of Rei!!!! He gets to be a little simp and Endeavor gets a replacement son to fill Natsu's spot. Everyone wins.

(He does deserve that hairline tho. I ain't fixin that.)

So that leaves...

Spinner's Fate

I'm not changing much here, besides the fact that now Shiggy is alive and I think they should be ✨Roommates✨ eventually (and obviously he's gonna be much less riddled with survivor's guilt). I still think he should write that book, but I also think that with his multiple Quirks, he should team up with scientists to understand how Quirks work in the body (and maybe get some of them removed from his).

And next...

Chisaki's Fate

I just think this guy needs to be in the same place as the other Villains, at least for a fraction of the time. Why is he just...out. He was also in that daycare and could definitely use some help before we just let him loose in the streets because he said sorry (Can the League just say sorry then??????????).

I do think afterwards he should get involved with something chemistry related tho, cause those bullets of his came in clutch.

And on that note...

The Todorokis' Fates

And by Todorokis I mean two of them, specifically Rei lol

Yeah, she's not gonna be Endeavor's nurse for the rest of her life lol. That man has more money than God, he can hire an aide like everybody else. In fact, they're not even living together. Do you remember how earlier in the series, he gave them a new house? So they could live away from him and he would be in the old house by himself? I liked that plan. Let's go back to that plan. I'm not gonna go as far as to make them divorce, if they're together they're together, but I think separation is a necessary must at this point because if they MUST stay together, they should at least try dating for once???????? Girl was actually bought like maybe they figure out if they even still like each other at all, or ever did.

(Also, I have to laugh as a motorized wheelchair user that Hori drew her pushing Endeavor all happy and blissfully. Motorized wheelchairs are not meant to be pushed like that lol. They have push features for emergencies and small around-the-house distances of course, but uh, mine's 350 pounds without me in it. It's not usually anyone's first choice.)

But there is one more Todoroki I have a lot to talk about, so that finally brings us to...

What Do We Do With The Villains + Kurogiri Now That They're Alive???????????

We take everything from comic books except what would actually makes sense with the story lol

Surprise!!!!!! We're doing Arkham!!!!!! This is another low-hanging fruit thing that I'm almost a little offended that it wasn't implemented. Obviously Arkham has its problems in the Batman canon that we're gonna try to avoid, but I honestly think Batman villains and the core MHA Villains are pretty similar in their execution in that they are primarily mentally ill victims of society who have done very terrible things, but the audience (and Batman himself) is actively rooting for them to get better over just rotting in jail or being killed. Two-Faced has killed sooooo many people and has relapsed a ton, but I ultimately still want to see him get better because he was Batman's best friend once and a good man, and what happened to him was a tragedy. I think all the Villains deserve a space where they can humanely heal from their issues and gain support, while also being safely separated from society while they're still dangerous to themselves and others.

Oh, but Batman and his endless money bought Arkham. Who do we know who has access to trust fund money, an investment in the mentally ill, and the bonus of a medical background that could fund such a thing?

Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for...

Natsuo Todoroki!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My mans graduates from college and immediately uses his money as a doctor and his inheritance to open up Rindou Sanctuary, in honor of his mother Rei and named after her favorite flower (I don't think he'd want to give Enji the satisfaction of his last name attached to his greatest achievement). He's head doctor on site and the board, and visits Touya every shift once he's healed enough to be transferred to the facility. He is very invested in his brother's treatment and refuses to lose him again--at least not until they're proper old men.

It is publicly funded by donors and taxes alike, and Enji, naturally, is always the highest donor. Call it reparations.

And there you have it! That's how to fix the epilogue. It took longer to type than think about. I could care less about canon shipping, so y'all can keep that (or not). I'm just here to fix the structural problems that have no reason to be here at this point. As I said, once I redrew lines Hori already set up and just abandoned, it pretty much fixed itself.

Hope you enjoyed it and I hope it eases the grief a little!!!!! They're alive look I fixed it!!!!!! <3

(also feel free to use anything I said in here in your own fix-it fics!!!! Just tag me so I can read them 👀)

[spinchip]

It was all there, in plain sight

Summary: Zane wants something she can't have.

She notices the pit in her chest only after she’s left Birchwood forest behind. It opens up where her heart would be, a black pit of longing she mistakes only slightly for loneliness and loss. There was someone she loved, once there and now gone. There was a life she had that was hidden from her, so the pit gnawed at her until she grew numb to the ache. It made sense, of course. What little she had left- her name, her face, the white sweater and white pants and cold hands- wasn’t enough to pad out the spaces her amnesia left behind. She looked for the rest of her heart in everything, searching for identity in cold still waters ponds and sunsets and the term elemental master the elderly man gave her when he asked her if she was prepared to face her destiny.

“I’m Jay.” The red haired boy greets her with a wave when she drops her meager belongings on the floor next to her bunk bed.

“Cole.” The other boy introduces himself with a crooked smile, “Yo.” He throws a peace sign up from where he’s laying in his own bed, sketch pad propped up on his lap.

“Hello.” She says formally, clasping her hands in front of her, “My name is Zane.” She refrains from adding I think to the end of her name, “It is nice to make your acquaintance.”

The chasm in her chest is a bearable pain, something that only itches at her in the gaps between training when the monastery is quiet and the two boys are preoccupied. She tries to find things to fill her life with- cooking, mostly. There are a handful of half-finished hobbies she’d tried and failed to integrate into her interests. Granny-square knitting scraps in a box under her bed, sewing needles and threads only pulled out to mend a tear in hers or the others robes after her first project has bored her, and a journal she’d abandoned when the pages she wrote were too empty for her to stomach.

Once, she tried drawing with Cole.

He doodles a drawing of her and shows it off with a grin- the boy in the picture seems so foreign to her that she almost asks Cole to throw it away. A sharp angled jaw, thick brow ridge and broad shoulders. Deep set eyes and hollow cheeks that only seem to accentuate the width of her face. Every part of her is rough and harsh. Handsome, but that doesn’t feel like a compliment when Cole or Jay says it to her. She thanks Cole and draws a picture of him in return- crude, not as skilled, but Cole appreciates it anyway.

Kai brings something with him that makes the cavern in her chest bleed- Nya. Nya, who has soft features and gentle hands. Beautiful, Jay sighs dreamily, and Zane wants that. She wants to be beautiful the way Nya is beautiful, the way the models on magazine covers and actresses in movies are. The pit in her chest has a razor edge now, and each time she compares herself to Nya and finds herself wanting she cuts open her heart on the sides. She tries her hand at makeup once, a few products Nya left in the bathroom that she plays with once day- her attempts are like that drawing she did of Cole. Crude, unskilled, clownish. So she washes her face and goes back to training and wants something she can’t have.

And she knows she can’t have it, because the one time she’d grazed her fingers over the femininity she desired she’d been laughed out of the room. A pink apron, so small and simple- a taste of a life she wanted so, so badly.

But she was a boy, and boys didn’t do things like wear pink aprons.

When she finds out she's a robot, the ache eases. It should go away- she knows who she is, she remembers her father, there’s not this big looming mystery clinging to the nape of her neck anymore. Her shoulders aren’t weighed down by a grief she wasn’t able to remember- sure, knowing brought with it a new pain, but there wasn’t any question to who she is. Zane, son of Dr. Julien. Robot. Hero. She could accept that. She could find peace with her past now- and yet the emptiness persists. Not so harsh, not at first- but over time, the chasm spreads until it feels like her whole body is an empty husky she inhabited.

“Father, if I wanted you to make a change in me, would you?” she asks her father after she finds him again, so close to putting into words a desire she was afraid to recognize.

“But Zane, you're perfect. I could never make you any better than you already are.” He smiles, reaches out to place his hand on her elbow with a squeeze, and she loses her nerve. Redirects the conversation to another persistent issue she had wanted to address as well, and doesn’t bring up the way her body doesn’t feel like it fits her anymore.

Maybe it never had- but then the world is ending, and there’s no time to think about that anymore.

And then a year later, the world is ending again and she pays all she has to prevent it.

She meets another android right before she gives up her life to save the world, and Pixal is everything Zane wants to be. She is beautiful, and she can convince herself it might be love when the pit her body is made of floods with a longing so deep her soul aches with it. She wants to ask her what it’s like- to be a girl.

Is it as wonderful as it looks? Is it as fulfilling as she imagines it would be?

She’s dead before she can form the words.

When she rebuilds her body in the blackness of Borg towers basements, she curves her jaw. She softens the harsh lines her father had sculpted her with, blending out solid planes into gentle features that hinted femininity. Not too much, careful to make it so slight that her friends won't look twice. Just enough to slake the hunger in her chest. Just barely enough to stifle her longing.

She touches her body the same way, adds weight to her hips and thins her waist to give the slightest impression of an hourglass figure. She considers her chest and again she wants what she can't have. She sends the blueprints to the machine before her heart breaks over a life that's not hers and she steps out of the machine in a body that's never going to be quite right.

But she's alive again, and there’s work to be done.

In the darkness of that cell in Chen's dungeon, she experiences heartbreak all over again when her memories flood back and she's reminded that she is a boy. In the spaces between memory, she knows what she isn’t. Memory brings reminder. There’s no escaping the words written down in her code. She can leave the island behind but she’s not free, not really.

Tox and Chamille and Nya and Skylor all cluster together and she wants so badly her core seems to wither with the force of it.

Pixal asks, “Is everything alright?” Because her fans stutter with physical pain at the cruelty of it all.

And she’s never been more grateful that Pixal’s abilities in her head are limited- she can’t read her mind, can’t look into her memories and see the longing living in her every breath. “I am fine.” She says, because there is no other option.

In a set of memories that are not hers to keep, she stares as a villain across a chessboard who says “Then I take it you do not want to make a wish…”

And he smiles at her like he knows. Like he can look right down directly into her heart to see a desire she would never voice, a want so so desperately shoved down and strangled because it simply wasn’t allowed. He’s giving her a golden ticket, a smoking gun to fix everything that’s ever been wrong with her life- it would be a simple, easy wish. Something that rewrote history to suit her needs.

I wish I was a girl, and that I always have been.

But she had a plan, and there was no room for this wish in the precious three she had to use.

She’s always been good at compartmentalizing. She could put her emotions away- this was harder, more insidious, but with time and effort she could make the ache a blanketing numbness instead. She fought just the same, cooked like always, and was for all intents and purposes normal- the disconnect she felt with her body was put away, and it didn't affect her duties as a ninja. That was paramount. Of course, it didn’t matter in the end- they lost. the Destiny's Bounty was crushed and it was pure luck that they had the mind to remember Mystakes tea with enough time to use it. Ninjago fell and they were trapped worlds away with no way back in sight.

Things were starting to look up now, though. The Iron baron was on their tail, but with Faith on their side they had put considerable distance between them. For the first time in a long while, things didn’t seem so bleak.

Faith had approached her while she was readying lunch, helping her prepare the meager supplies they had into a decent meal.

“I apologize,” She began quietly, breaking the lull of silence between them, “For mistaking you for a man.” she’s not sure why she brings it up, just that it feels important to say.

Faith's lips curl up ever so slightly, “Thank you.” There’s another pause, “...You didn’t.”

She glances at Faith, confused.

Faith clarifies, “You never used him in reference to me.” She sets the bowl down and studies her, searching for something. She doesn’t know what to say, so she stirs the pot of noodles while Faith comes to a realization. her mouth forms a perfect o before she schools her expression, looking away. “...I wasn’t always a woman.” She sets the words out gently between them.

She drops the spoon and has to clamber to pick it back up, “You were not?” She asks, looking over at the huntress with wide eyes.

“It is a bit of an oversimplification.” Faith admits, “But no. I was born a boy, and I realized I was a woman later in life.”

“Oh. I have… never heard of that before.” She finds herself whispering, the information overwhelming and too big to deal with in the hot desert sun so far from home. It feels like something slots into place- a reality worth pursuing suddenly just over the horizon. No more longing, no more ache-

“I apologize too.” Faith says softly, eyes sparkling with a new kind of warmth, “I didn’t know we were… family.”

She’s always been one to take someone's words at face value, but she understands Faith's words for what they are the moment they leave her mouth. We’re the same. I see you.

Her throat feels too thick to respond so she just finishes lunch and calls the other over to eat, leaving the conversation to repeat in her head over and over again.

After everything, on a day where the team is sprawled out in the living room trying to unwind after twelve hours of rebuilding work in downtown Ninjago, she blurts it out. While clearing rubble or carrying around building materials she’d been running a search program in the back of her head- pinging more and more resources that give the emptiness and desire inside her a name. She found others who felt the same, reading through post after post of personal stories that all voiced her own private thoughts openly and honestly.

Suddenly the world is alight with poetry and videos and potential, boundless possibility to remake who she pretends to me into who she is. The other women on the internet link hands with her and offer her a community she has been deprived of- and her life is her own. Transgender and transcendent and trans joy.

“I’m a girl.” She announces into the room, because now that she knows all there is to know- now that she knows it's allowed she won’t live another second in this identity that crushes her chest and chokes her spirit.

It’s the first time she’s ever said it.

As her friends surround her, she's met with unconditional support and a life worth living spread out in front of her feet.

[tickettride]

I’ve just seen a face | 1

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

pairing is johnny davis x f!reader

in which the man you've been staring at all night long at a party meets you in the kitchen, and suggests to walk you out where it's safer. the only danger is not being able to stop kissing him.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+ (mdni), alcohol, mention of weed, men being creeps, smoking, sexual tension, kissing and a touch of fluff?, "girls are prettier without glasses" speech (ugh), maybe a few mistakes and nonsense

• read the second part here

The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. — The Picture of Dorian Gray

 

Johnny’s lips hovered over yours, mixing his warm breath with your shaky exhales. You had never felt so connected to another human being before. Never felt your soul leaving your body that way. And here you were now, nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

A deep, unwavering sexual tension had tethered you to Johnny for hours. Even since you had stepped into the house, actually. It had been hard to see right through the smoke, even more since you had decided to ditch your glasses for the night, just for the experience. Well, it had been a fucking mistake. All the faces were blurry, and you swore you introduced yourself twice to the same people, all of them hoisting their beer and exchanging looks you didn't quite understand.

It doesn’t matter, your friends told you. They won’t remember anything the next morning. You supposed it was a relief, to think people would forget about you in just a few hours. At least until you saw that guy who had been standing in a corner the whole time. 

No, not a guy. A real man, with broad shoulders and a certain way of carrying himself. Even from across the room, you knew he was respected.

It had taken you longer than necessary to reach the kitchen behind a group of wobbly men, bumping into shoulders and apologizing inaudibly. Someone talked to you but you barely paid any attention, giving a small "okay" instead as you focused on getting to the kitchen in one piece.

Rubbing your eyelid tiredly, you nearly scratched your eye out when a hand closed around your wrist, though it felt warm and gentle.

“Hey.”

The man from the corner was looking down at you, worry flickering in his eyes. So close to you, he was even more handsome. Full lips, a face that carried memories. Clearly, he had seen a lot.

“Ya need help?”

“No?” You dragged the syllable, confused as you shot a look at your friends. The three of them had crashed on a couch, their loud laughter drawing attention. You might have looked drunk though, you gave him that. “I’m just headin’ for the kitchen. Gotta drink some water before I start feelin’ all…”

Your vague hand motion made his lips twitch in amusement, which pulled a smile to your lips too. It slightly faded when he removed his hand from you, and you turned back around.

So he had noticed you.

A strong scent of alcohol and weed burned your nostrils when you walked over to the sink, your eyes sweeping over the room to find where the glasses were stocked. Littered cups filled with some sort of alcohol mix had your nose wrinkled up at the smell, wondering what was wrong with those people. Did they really enjoy drinking this? Finally, stacked glasses that seemed clean enough caught your eyes.

And now that same man was standing at the threshold.

“I’m old enough to be left on my own, y'know," you said sarcastically, almost nervous to be left alone with him. Was he one of the creeps? Or just a man bored to death?

In response, he nodded like you had made a great point. “Just don’t want ya to feel unsafe, is all.”

You shrugged, retrieving a glass, checking it was somewhat clean, and filling it with water. “I know how to throw a punch. I've been taught the basics.”

“Show me, then.”

The three words made your heartbeat faster. With your free hand, you closed your fist, barely thinking. 

“Nah. Ya’d break your thumb like that.”

Your gaze flitted to your hand for a second. “Yeah. Probably.”

Another nod was addressed to you, and a moment of silence wrapped you both in a comfortable bubble. You drank the water silently while he kept his eyes on you, which would have looked truly odd did he not seem safe. He looked exhausted, though. Maybe a bit entertained. Maybe like he’d been waiting for someone like you to light up his evening.

“I’m Johnny.”

You gave your name back, watching his smile that definitely shouldn’t have caused a hot nudge in your lower body, considering he would surely move on from you the next day.

Still, the tension choked you as he stepped further into the room, picking up a bottle of beer in a bucket. Your hand tightened against the glass when you opened your mouth to ask where he was from–the usual small talk you used when silence made you uneasy–and instantly closed it as two bearded men barged in, ruining the moment.

“I say, "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, motherfucker",” the first one spat, waving a gun in the air. “I captured you.”

Swallowing thickly at the sight of the small handgun, you set the glass back down into the sink and glanced over at Johnny. Your senses returned to you enough to do some calculations. From what you could see, you could slip beside him and make your way back to your friends swiftly. But those two creeps had spotted you, standing there like an outsider or just a woman, and nerves started filling your body as you hyped yourself up to take the few steps toward freedom. There was no way you were staying there to risk being shot accidentally. What a stupid end that would make.

Johnny’s brow furrowed at those guys and back at you, sensing your discomfort. He tipped the drink to his mouth, taking a long sip as you took a deep breath. 

“I think I’ll head out,” you announced quietly, ignoring the men’s hot gazes on your back.

It was a shame to leave so fast, but maybe you just weren’t meant to be talking to Johnny. You believed in all that stuff fiercely.

Johnny’s head turned around, watching behind him before meeting your eyes again. “I can’t see your friends.”

“Oh, they must be smokin’ somewhere out there.”

Giving a small nod, he stepped closer to you and left his beer near the sink. “I’ll walk ya out.”

You cleared your throat, trying to alleviate the lump forming from the thoughts racing through your brain. His hand settled on your lower back as he guided you to the back door, and you didn’t think once. Perhaps you'd finally have that time alone with him, after all. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave either.

The cold breeze hit you in the face as you squinted through the darkness, praying hard not to fall or trip or do anything embarrassing in front of him. And that was exactly what you did. The couple of stairs were poorly lighted, and there was only one idiot to miss that one step. You.

“Shit,” you stumbled, chuckling awkwardly when you felt Johnny’s hand on your waist, making sure you were not collapsing.

“Alright?”

“Yeah,” you replied quickly, unable to stop yourself from smiling. 

Maybe it was his big hands on you, or maybe it was just the one beer you had drunk, but the wind seemed less cold, less aggressive on your skin. God, he looked so... attractive.

A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at you, almost checking you out. “Should’ve slowed down on the beers.”

Another giggle escaped your lips, trying not to shrink under his gaze. “It’s not about the beers, promise. I just can’t see nothin’ without my glasses.”

“You lost ‘em?” Johnny asked, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. 

“No. Um… I’ve been told girls are prettier without glasses.”

He made a sound. Kept frowning. That was your cue to blabber on. 

“Not that I found myself… unattractive. I just thought I could try one night without wearin' them. Which was really stupid, considerin’ I’ve almost died at least twice.”

You pursued your lips as you caught a whiff of his scent on his leather jacket, willing yourself to shut up and flee. As you were supposed to. And yet, as dumb as you sounded, Johnny’s eyes were fixed on yours and did not leave for a moment. He was listening carefully, blocking out the world to hear your silly explanation. 

“You’re not unattractive,” he said in a low voice. "I bet they make ya look even prettier."

“How would you know?” your tone matched his, your blood heating another degree. 

Johnny came closer, raising his hands to run his thumbs above your cheeks, where your glasses usually fell. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, but they were beautiful. Dark. Full of fantasies. 

“Just imaginin’,” his raspy voice sent a hot shiver down your spine. "I've been lookin' at ya since you walked in, but I hadn’t noticed those freckles right there."

Your heart hammered in your chest. It was all going so fast, but the mere thought of slowing things down was absurd. You couldn’t think of anything but feeling his lips on yours. Moving your body with his. Feeling so wanted he might die, and you as well. You usually were careful and rather shy when it came to flirting, but why would you resist the temptation now?

The party didn’t matter. The people out there didn’t matter. Hell, even your friends didn’t matter. It was only you and the man you had checked out (ogled) all night, the man who had made sure you were feeling safe, the man who had caught you in his arms like they did in the movies. 

It did feel like a movie anyway. None of this felt real. 

“I can’t see much, but you look pretty attractive too,” you dared to say, though you wished you had sounded bolder. 

His lips nearly touched yours. The top of your noses did, causing you to chuckle. What was even happening?

“See me better now?” Johnny muttered, angling his face.

"Much better."

"Good."

You had known a few men, kissed a few of them, but nothing had ever come close to this particular moment. Nothing had ever felt so exciting, so hot and passionate. You didn’t want him to forget you. Fuck, you were sure you would think of these minutes until your last breath. You needed to have him, even for a short moment.

Nose-to-nose with a man you didn't even know.

“Johnny?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Emboldened by his widening smile, you closed what little distance was left between your mouths and pressed a soft kiss against his lips, just testing the waters. You hadn’t expected it to feel that good. Like a taste of heaven. Gripping his shoulders, you drew yourself high against his chest and slipped your tongue into his mouth, a tiny sound mixing with a groan of his. His hands pressed against your back, holding your waist like a fragile doll as yours slid to the back of his head. Fuelled by the need to make him moan again, you wrapped both arms up around his neck until you were shamelessly making out on the grass, wishing he could do something to alleviate the burning in your body. It was bewitching.

You were out of breath when you landed on your feet again, as though you had just taken a trip to the stars for a minute. Clearly, Johnny was as dazed as you were. 

Looking over his shoulder, you found no less than ten faces peering out the window, and a couple more watching from the front porch. Smoking. You bet your friends had seen it all. 

“Shit,” you whispered, at a loss for words. 

Johnny ran his thumb over your lip, his eyes tracing his own movements as he did. ‘Tell me where ya live.”

Forgetting everything about the safety rules you had always followed when it came to men, you whispered, “Next to the shoe store. I work there on weekends.”

The detail had slipped out, but you just wished he would suggest picking you up someday. Don’t let him forget you, your brain kept saying. You couldn’t be anticipating the saddest goodbye of your life yet.

“You’re workin’ tomorrow?”

A bit of hope flickered in your chest. Men usually fucked off after getting what they wanted, but he seemed really into you. That was unreal.

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” you grinned playfully, chuckling as he nodded. 

"Tomorrow’s Friday," Johnny repeated, realizing his mistake. "Guess I don’t wanna spend one day waitin’ to see ya again."

“Me either,” you admitted lowly, removing a strand of hair sticking to your lips. “You can—you can still come on Saturday, if you want to.”

“You’ve been on a motorcycle before?” 

You shook your head, wondering why you felt so bashful all of a sudden. Johnny’s lips curved at your hesitancy, holding your gaze for a moment. His eyes full of promises again.

“Hmm. Ya should leave before I keep ya out here with me,” he declared, snapping you out of your thoughts as he squeezed your hip gently and stepped backward. 

And with that, the moment was gone.

“Saturday, then?” you asked, just to make sure. 

You sounded almost desperate, but you couldn’t care. There was something scary about being so attracted to someone so fast. What if a simple change of heart left you heartbroken?

“Saturday,” Johnny confirmed, making it sound like it was years away. 

You dropped your gaze for a second and raised it again to look at him one last time, the steadying sounds of your breathings filling the cold air. Johnny broke the eye-contact to check that your friends were still standing in the distance.

“Ya need help walkin’ over there?”

The question made you smile. “I’ll be alright. I’ll try to walk in a straight line and avoid people."

Johnny’s stare could have been a good reason to stay with him and let him keep you, but after a second of hesitancy, you willed yourself to utter a small ‘Well, see you, then’. You made a beeline to your friends, blinking a couple of times as though your vision would become clear again. 

You shot one look behind. Johnny was waiting for you to reach the others, not moving.

They all shouted in your ear when you stepped on the tiled floor, but you weren’t listening. Just thinking of how fast it all could change when you least expected it. You weren't fully sure he'd really show up in two days, so you crossed your fingers during the whole ride back home and hoped he wouldn't forget. You were already longing for this man’s touch.