#he ain't that heartless

[night-wilf]

Writing prompt 139:

Danny stares at the umbrella in his hand. Did he just hear it swear in annoyance? At being WET?

"Uh....... hi? Are you meant to be human?"

"You can hear me?"

"Yeah. No shit sherlock. Are you meant to be human?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

Danny sighs and shakes his head. He does NOT need this today with exams coming up. He starts asking questions, finally getting a number to call and ask a family member come to pick up Bruce while he figures out this mess.

[hehether]

The way Heartless get jumped that night

[greedbent]

one another thing i'm supremely feral about when it comes to this crowman edgelord mcshadypants is that he legit can be so blindsided by people being legitimately heartless and uncaring

. . . allow me to explain— awnjgoha

yes, he himself is ruthless because the life he lives and the environment he lives in forces him to be. because he cannot risk having any softness or attachments that can be exploited because that's the thing !!!

everyone has a weakness no matter how typically cold and detached you are, there's always at least one thing (and oftentimes one person) that is a . . . shall we say pressure point that can be used against you

and the most interesting thing to me is that kaz often uses people's families and other similar attachments as his leverage. he basically banks on the reality that "hey, this guy cares about his wife, so if she's threatened, he'll do what i ask" or "this woman's love for her children is stronger than anything in the world; she'd bend over backwards to protect them, so let's do something with that"

kaz himself grew up with a good family he had a brother he adored he had a great dad he cannot fathom the dysfunctional families where a parent legitimately despises their kid or vice versa, so when he does come across that reality . . . ?

cough Wylan and Jan cough

it honestly always throws him off similarly to coming across someone who has zero attachments or genuine affection for anyone else; it's wildly outlandish to him and honestly disturbing if he just cannot find anything to them

[vvatchword]

What Things We Have Done

Fontaine jumped out of the bathysphere grinning. His opponents called it a bastard grin, a cocky smile he usually appropriated just before smashing a business off of the map. A couple of years ago, Ryan would have corrected them: “I find his boyish enthusiasm appealing.”

Fontaine just laughed. Let 'em talk. I’ll give them action.

Two big mooks strode on either side of him, smoking cigars, armed with pistols. Fontaine was smoking a cigar, too, an unnecessarily big one that stank terribly. As he strode into the center of the skyscraper that bore his name, he stopped in the middle and looked up. Office upon office. And below…

He laughed and blew a smoke ring.

He took the elevator. He made sure to stand in the center, with his two mooks standing on either side of him. They puffed away like a factory. The other occupants of the elevator leaned away, coughed politely into handkerchiefs, and rubbed their eyes; most of them got off on the following floor. When Fontaine finally left, the remaining occupants glared after him. He didn’t seem to notice. There was a spring in his step as he sauntered up to his office.

“Hello, Mr. Fontaine,” said the secretary. An old woman he’d dredged up from the Fisheries. He would have liked to fulfill his little fantasy of a cute button-nosed girl to be his secretary—someone to fuck in the downtime, on the sly—but loyalty and ability were worth a thousand fucks. So he stuck with Miss Phipps, a spinster who knew how to keep her mouth shut.

“Hey, Granny,” he said. “You got the mail already?”

“Yes, sir. I put it on your desk.” She said it all in that cold angry voice that said, I’d quit if I could, and then you’d be sorry.

He laughed and winked at her, then passed into his office. I pay you too much to quit, you old bitch, and you know it.

It was the ugliest office in the city. He’d made sure of it. Huge ceiling, big windows gazing down on the city, big fucking portraits of his family in luxury attire (which was half the joke, since they had been stuck in a tenement with four other families and his father only showed up on weekends to beg his mother for drinking money), towering bookcases full of books he never planned to read, and garish taxidermy: a moose head, a swordfish, a huge fucking polar bear. He liked the polar bear. He dressed him up for holidays.

The mooks spread out a little and began a cursory examination of the room, as was their wont. Not that anything would happen. Fontaine had enemies, but they were enemies who only knew how to fight with capital.

Paid to be careful, though, you were always careful, you always covered your tracks.

Fontaine stopped in front of his desk and tapped a few ashes into his crystal ashtray, then took the newspaper from the mail pile and shook it out.

RAID ON FONTAINE FISHERIES, said the headline. THIRTY SMUGGLERS APPREHENDED. Beneath, a big photograph of Captain Sullivan strong-arming a darkly tanned man into a bathysphere.

“Good luck getting them to talk, Captain,” he said, and threw the paper on the desk. He looked at the headline for a moment, then up at his walls. There, in several frames, were dozens of news articles he had carefully clipped out and pasted to cardboard. He fit them together like puzzle pieces.

FONTAINE OF FONTAINE FISHERIES: ENTREPRENEUR OF THE YEAR, said one headline, yellowed with age. Beneath, a large paragraph by Andrew Ryan. “Mr. Fontaine has transformed the fishing industry. He has invested in the services of engineers to develop submarines with increased hold capacity and longer fishing times, all while consuming less fuel. He has streamlined his factories, increased his catches, and discovered new ways of luring fish and other sea life into nets and traps to further reduce fuel consumption. In the process, he has lowered costs for consumers, and provided outlets for rising stars in the engineering field. There is no part of Rapture that he has not touched. If anyone embodies the Rapture ideal, it is Frank Fontaine.”

Another headline screamed, PLASMIDS MAKE A WAVE. Fontaine, younger and less stocky, stood in front of a glass window with a big grin and his hands on his hips. Behind him, a shoal of herring in a holding tank; beside him, a woman with frizzy hair, cut off by the edge of the photo. All he could see of her was her shoulder and right eye, which stared out at him sharply. Below, the caption: “The impossible is possible! Fontaine Futuristics rewrites genetic code of herring.” And below that, in the text, Andrew Ryan: “Fontaine is the future.”

Shit, Fontaine had liked that line so much he made it the tagline on his business cards.

Several frames down was the big angry headline, FONTAINE CONNECTED TO SMUGGLING INDUSTRY. Nothing from Andrew Ryan in that one. He had put that one into its own frame. He suspected that Ryan didn’t know what to do for a while, because most of the articles on the subject included the line, “Andrew Ryan unavailable for comment.”

One article showed Ryan Security infiltrating the wharfs down in the Bounty. There were the headlines about raids and the danger of smugglers and associating with dark-skinned strangers, and then something small about Ryan Security and the Wharfmaster teaming up to stop the smuggling problem. One article read: “Citizens have raised concerns about the autonomy of businesses. Should Ryan Security step into the private affairs of the Neptune’s Bounty wharfs? Andrew Ryan of Ryan Industries could not be reached for comment.”

Paragraphs of praise exchanged for two words. “No comment,” said Ryan of Ryan Industries. “No comment. No comment.”

Fontaine chuckled and looked down at his desk, and hesitated.

“Wait,” he said. “Why the fuck did I come up here again?”

He paused, then stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He gave it a cursory glance. The letter had come by special courier earlier that day. One word printed on it, from Dr. Tenenbaum: “Success.”

Chuckling, he turned and marched out of the door. His mooks tailed him.

“Did you find the mail?” said Miss Phipps. By the tone of her voice he could tell that she was saying, You didn’t notice it again, did you? The fact I organized it? I spent twenty minutes organizing it.

“Nope,” he said. “I’ll be back. Forgot that I was supposed to go the other direction.”

She grunted, and he left without looking back.

He took the elevator down to Floor 11 and stepped out. It was a single room with a single door, locked with the latest gizmo from Minerva’s Den. He set his hand on the screen, punched in the code, and then swiped his card. The machine beeped, and the door swung open.

“You guys, stay out here,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

He swaggered into the common room. Three big men in black lounged around it, smoking and carrying shotguns. The secretary there—who was a cute button-nosed thing with bobbed hair and big blue eyes, but too far away to take advantage of properly—waved him through.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fontaine,” she said.

He inclined his head. “Afternoon,” he said. “Dr. Tenenbaum in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

He passed through the door into the testing facility.

Sterile, white, silver, clean. Lines of desks on either side, mystery liquids in various vials and flasks, big machines he couldn’t remember the names of that purred, the air heavy with the stink of chemicals. Scientists darted around him holding clipboards and boxes of God-knew-what.

“Hey!” Fontaine shouted. “Where’s Brigid?”

“I am over here,” said a woman frostily.

He glanced around the room. “You playin’ hide and seek today, sweetheart?”

Brigid raised her head. She had been staring into a microscope’s eyepiece so long that there was a pink circle around her eye. Her hair was frizzy—she must have gone home last night and washed it. That happened what? Once a week?

Fontaine swaggered between a few desks and slipped up beside her. She waited for him, staring at him impassively. She almost never smiled. She wore the same stained cardigan he had seen her in a few days before. There were three cups of coffee sitting beside her on her left, one untouched and cold. On her right were four overflowing ashtrays and the greasy wrapper from a sandwich. Most noticeable was her bared forearm. There was a number tattooed there.

He leaned close to her, dropped one hand onto the small of her back, and tapped the ashes of his cigar off on the floor.

“I got your message,” he said. “Success where? With what?”

“If you would to please get your hand off of my backside,” she said, “I will tell you.”

He raised his hand. The Kraut was so touchy. “Sorry, sorry. Just tryin’ to get friendly.”

“This is business, not party.” She stood tall and turned. “Come with me.”

She took him to a little door in the wall and swiped her keycard. When they stepped inside, the back of his neck prickled, and his smile fell a little. The room stank like a farm. God, he hated it. Reminded him of the tenement. When he was a kid, he had left every day just to escape the stench.

“Clean this fucking place, will ya?” he said.

“We cleaned it.” Tenenbaum turned to glare at him. “We clean it every day. Twice. We can not have subjects getting sick. Hard enough keeping them alive as it is.”

The room was packed with cages and pens. There were rats, mice, guinea pigs, cats, monkeys; pens of pigs, dogs, goats, miniature cattle. There were twenty hundred-gallon aquariums flush against the wall, where baleful black sea slugs covered with bulbous glowing pustules crawled. There were only two narrow corridors between the cages. Tenenbaum led him down the right-hand one.

By all rights, the room should have been noisy. Instead, it was notable for its silence.

The animals were pale and dangerously thin. They leaned against the walls of their cages, or lay on their sides panting. The ones with energy wandered in meaningless circles, jerking spasmodically, foaming at the mouth. Every eye glowed like a little light bulb, yellowish and sick.

“Any luck modifying the slugs?”

Tenenbaum snorted. “No. I grow them larger, they develop sickness, they die. I get them to make more ADAM, they develop two heads and extra organs, they die. I try to make it easy to harvest ADAM without killing slug, they die. I try to inspire reproduction in captivity and… ach, almost impossible. The larvae spend part of life cycle in upper water columns, they require such exact parameters…”

“I didn’t come here to hear you bellyache.” Fontaine stopped at a pen and leaned over the fence. “What was successful? Tell me that it’s the cow.”

The cow he was looking at labored to breathe; she leaned against the wall of the pen, her head hung, her legs shook. He had envisioned cows that he could milk ADAM from, like they milked Guernseys.

Tenenbaum shook her head. “It was too hard. Too many processes involved. The cows die after maturity and make only a little ADAM.”

“Then which of 'em worked?” Fontaine said. He looked at the rats.

“Why you look at those?” Tenenbaum said sharply. “They go mad and tear each other apart. Especially males. Males and ADAM production not good combination.”

“All right, now you’re just making me wait. You want apologies for me touching you? Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll never touch you again. Show me.”

“This way.” She gestured to the end of the room, where there was a cage with thick iron bars. She pointed at the corner, and he looked in. He didn’t speak for a moment.

“Are you shitting me?” he said.

“No.” Tenenbaum rapped the bars with her pen. “Mary. Get up, Mary.”

The huddled bundle on the mattress raised its head, blinking. It was a girl, dressed in a stained, wrinkled hospital gown, with tousled hair. There was brownish-red dribble on her chin. Her eyes glowed like lamps.

“Holy God,” he said. “I thought you said it didn’t work with humans.”

“Wrong. Only didn’t work with adults. Killed every adult within two days.” Tenenbaum leaned against the door. “Something about this little one. Maybe it is because her body is still changing, she produce different amounts of hormones… ach. I will be honest, we do not yet understand. But from what I tell, we feed her a spoon full of ADAM, we induce regurgitation, she spit up ten times amount. We do this by ADAM modification and surgical implantation of ADAM slug, instead of changing embryo into ADAM slug hybrid, like with other animals. Understand?”

“Yeah,” he said, slowly. “So you need to try and replicate this experiment?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. Little kids. You know how hard it is to get those?”

“This is not end-all be-all,” she said. “New subjects are necessary. I am going to surgically implant ADAM slugs on bigger animals, younger animals, see if we get same result. But this is the one that worked first. Sort of lucky. She was only one we had.”

“I’ll find some way to get more kids to you, then.”

He backed away. The little girl sat up on the mattress. She couldn’t be more than eight or so, all skinny stick-limbs and big eyes.

“What’s she in for?”

“Stealing food in Farmer’s Market,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “I think.”

“Miss Tennabaum?” she said, looking at Fontaine. “Why are there bears in the ocean?”

“Not important,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “Come here, Mary. I have ADAM for you.”

The little girl rocketed to her feet and sprang to the cage door. Dr. Tenenbaum reached into her pocket and pulled out a small baby bottle full of something red and faintly luminous. She handed it to the girl, who yanked it out of her hand and ran back to her mattress. She jabbed the nipple into her mouth and sucked. The entire time, she stared at Fontaine.

Fontaine scowled.

“And soon we have a gallon of ADAM,” said Dr. Tenenbaum. “Will take her about four hours to regurgitate.” She straightened and fastened her emotionless eye on Fontaine. “You will come back to see?”

“Nah. I’ll take your word for it.” Fontaine had backed up across the room. “If I get you more kids, can you up the production?”

“Yes.” The doctor stared at him, unblinking, slumping a little, her eyes sharp and hard. It was a horrible picture. The doctor standing across from the cage, where a eight-year-old with glowing eyes sucked at an infant’s bottle for the last dregs of ADAM.

I’m going to have fucking nightmares.

“Good.” He nodded. “Then, uh… keep up the good work. Keep me updated.” A pause. “I’ll give you a bonus.”

Dr. Tenenbaum shrugged. “Thank you.”

As he left Floor 11 and collected his mooks, he couldn’t seem to regain the spring in his step. He felt sick. He knew what it was, of course. It was the animal smell of the testing room. Brought him right back down to Earth faster than he could count to three. God, if he never had to go back…

But he had to make sure the Kraut stayed on task. Yeah, she was the best at what she did… but some things, you couldn’t leave up to chance.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

This Chapter on AO3

[tev-the-random]

I have way too many thoughts about the Red Light Bandit AU but not nearly enough brain power to put them all into a fully fledged fanfic, please ask me things about my silly little AU please please please please-

[rizsu]

the "losing all my innocence in the backseat" lyric is so geto waitttttt 😩

sneaky link geto who's like that guy who haunts the narrative of your love life

⢷ pepsi will never thrive without coca cola. (he ain't shit) geto suguru ꘟ fem-reader.

+ love, ‘su: PAUSE THE CHAT 🗣! geto would def stalk ur very much directed tiktok reposts and reply to them with “u miss me huh” (no beta #writtenassoonasigotthisask)

s-link!suguru who just wanted some quick comfort. he didn't need a nagging girlfriend who'd bother him about his whereabouts, certain messages, or even the not-so-hidden circular bruise at the side of his neck, a little under his ear.

in his eyes, you were — no, you are the perfect match for him. you're everything he's ever needed. you used him the way he used you; one and done. no more, no less. both equally needing the sense of relief and relaxation without pushing for deeper meaning.

s-link!suguru who obeyed the “no kissing” rule. to him, kissing is intimate — it's pure. the intentions of a kiss (in his view) are always romantic and genuine, two things that he's long been stripped of. he also avoided eye contact during the moment. it made him feel vulnerable, like he was ready to give up the persona and bask in your love.

again, you never opposed. if that's what he wants then sure. it's not like you were hoping for anything deeper. ignoring the sting in your chest, you often buried your head in the junction of his neck to shoulder — sometimes biting on his skin to deter yourself away from tears. you don't love him; it's just in the moment. that's all.

unlike what s-link!suguru believes, his friends collectively agreed that he's slowly falling in love. why else would he be aggressively tapping through your instagram stories? why would he swipe to reply with “who the fuck is that” if he isn't your boyfriend?

a monkey who doesn't see his own tail won't recognize his own mistakes, a saying his friends often preach — much to suguru's dismay. he doesn't know where it came from nor why they use it, but he's heard it from time to time.

the men can be heartless, but they have no tolerance for suguru intentionally hurting someone as sweet as you. you've met them, they met you, and s-link!suguru's hand never stopped lingering on your body. “not her boyfriend,” he said.

s-link!suguru eventually acknowledges that he's falling — head first, too. this is against every rule he laid out at the beginning of... whatever you two had going on. so, he didn't hesitate to slowly go no-contact with you.

it was easy to say the least. muting your chat, silencing your calls, skipping your posts — too easy. almost as easy as the first time you let him through your barriers. but he hadn't anticipate your immediate move on. when you finally confirmed that he's beginning to ghost you, you moved on.

did you jump relationships? no, but you did post more revealing outfits and “clubbing” stories.

his bottom lip suffered tremendous damage once he saw what you've been doing. is he angry? upset? jealous that you're in a dress he specifically pointed out that it'd “look hot on you” during a walk together?

it didn't take long before nailsbytrish457 kept viewing your profile. they were within the first few viewers. at first you were weirded out by it — a random account keeping daily tabs on you? time to private your profile.

for some reason, you didn't bother to private. instead, you were set on blocking the account and the other accounts it's attached to. your following count went down by 2. odd, right? why would su_geto be blocked as well if you only blocked nailsbytrish457?

s-link!suguru who gave up the non-existent fight and called you. he didn't care — you were going to deal with him whether you had the energy to or not. minutes into the call, arguing about the fact that he shouldn't be bothered until you hear a car pull up in your driveway.

baffled, you'd say “you're not fucking serious.”

he'd only reply with “open the door.”

in between the cursing, yelling, middle fingers being thrown up every now and then, you found yourself straddling his lap, digging your nails into his neck. you want to injure him — badly — but your mind can't seem to stop replaying the flashbacks you desperately tried to turn into lost footage.

s-link!suguru who cracks a cocky smile knowing he got his way, per usual. it's always like that. you know it too, but you can't seem to do anything about it. at least, he's a call (and an argument) away if you need him.

you're familiar with the warning that your love life will crumble if you don't get him out of the picture permanently, but how can you if he's so consistent yet irregular in your life? he's there, he's not. he's with you for a week, he's ghosting you the next.

a push and pull game you're too tired to care for.

andddd thats it bc im out of ideas 🧍🏽‍♀️ idk how situationships go i've yet to experience real romance in my life BYE. i literally stole my friends' experiences n stories for this #inspo #shoutouttotheirls

[bbunnyyy]

All The Stars~ PT.2

BAKUGOU X SECRET ADMIRER PT.2

A/N: I didn't expect the prequel to this to get as much attention as it did. I'm so grateful you guys liked it, and I hope you'll enjoy this one too. <333

☁︎ [You and Bakugou were always head to head, fighting for the top spot.

The tension between you and Bakugou was firey, pushing both of you as well as 1A to perform better. Aizawa Sensei secretly appreciated the effect the both of you had on the rest of the class- he would let you both drop detention for disrupting the class for the 7th time in a row.

Your admiration for Bakugou started when you saw him save civilians from a falling building before he had his license. He was chewed out for it endlessly- not that he cared. You observed from the sidelines, noting he wasn't as heartless nor avoidant as you had previously thought.] ☁︎

ALL THE STARS~ PT.1 | ALL THE STARS~ PT.3

Katsuki Bakugou found himself looking forward to Wednesdays.

Wednesdays? That's a weird day to look forward to, apart from art class or PE or something. As the weeks progressed, so did the number of gifts in Bakugou's locker- with Bakugou's increasing frustration, of course. The gifts were obviously from one person. "It ain't even close to Valentine's Day, which blockhead is causing all this trouble?" Bakugou'd answer irritably when questioned. Lucky for you, you convinced Hatsume to help you delete the footage when you'd pick his locker open.

His secret admirer. What if it was a prank? What if it was one of his peers? What if it was some crazy stalker like Toga? He found himself scared again. Scared of being hurt. After being kidnapped by the League, his anxiety and nightmares made him spiral. To wake up in a cold sweat at 4:23 was now a habit. He'd sulk and bury his head into his pillow as if it'd absorb his anger. All he could think about these nights was this secret admirer of his. They were really something, THE great dynamite king killer blah blah Bakugou found himself staying up at night, face flushed as he thought of them.

BAKUGOU woke up drenched in his own sweat again. His bedsheets were damp with sweat as the air around him was stuffy. Relief washed over him as he slumped back against the wall and realised it was a nightmare. Just a stupid nightmare. He placed his feet on the cold tiles on the floor, deciding to go for a run.

☾

His mind was foggy- with thoughts of his secret admirer. He'd hate to admit that those 'high protein chocolates' helped him buff up and increase his stamina as well. The cool air rustled through the trees along the path he jogged. He saw someone sleeping under one of the trees as the sun was rising, the light illuminating the person. The nearer he got, the faster his heart beat.

The soft rays of the sun glazed over your skin like honey. You were fast asleep on the soft grass, mouth slightly open. Katsuki narrowed his eyes at your sight- he was very vocal about how much he hated you. Though obvious to you and the rest of the Bakusquad that he had a soft spot for you. Passing you cold water during breaks, buying you a soda from the nearest vending machine after a long day of patrolling during your internship. "It's only so that they can try to become better than me, it's funny to watch them try." He'd say.

Whatever he felt or said, it was hard to deny you were attractive. Your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your beautiful smile.

He'd tilt his head as he watched you from his desk as you giggled alongside Mina as you laughed at another one of Kaminari's pranks. He loved how your eyes would light up at seeing your favourite side dishes on the menu at the cafeteria and the cute expressions you made while eating, the way your nose danced as you chewed on the food. And right now, he loved how your hair spread out on the grass as you dreamt on.

Noticing a blueish diary next to you, his body moved before he could register. The first few pages were filled with sketches of cats and pros, along with some classmates. He sat down cross-legged next to you, careful not to wake you as he flipped through the diary.

Katsuki Fucking Bakugou knew darn well he was wrong- and that made him feel some type of way. Curiosity blew up the cat?

His warm fingers traced the sketches as his face heated up despite the morning chill. He leaned against the bark of the tree, propping the book on his knees. A slip of neon paper fell out as he admired the sketches- the neon orange paste-it drifted onto the dewy grass. Bakugou picked it up, noting the familiarity. There were only three words on the neon note.

☾

Katsuki ran towards the dorms with your diary in his hand, beet red. He shook his head as those words swam through his mind- such a simple arrangement of three words, really.

High Protein Chocolate.

A/N: PT.3 coming soon, please stay tuned~

[voikiraz]

Lover ; jay 저이 .

Lovers . bf!jay x fem!reader w. None step ? #1131 M.recordings ! [ jay ver!!! I love yhis sm omggg ]

Syn. Lover jay and actions he does that makes you fold every time

ꕤ now we all know he is a GENTLEMAN. okay and nobody can even think otherwise, so whenever he goes out early for a schedule and you're still sleeping, he leaves you a note literally as big as his head [ Said with love ]

Jay woke up early, thinking about how heartless the company is to make practice at 8 am, then he noticed you sleeping on your side of the bed. He stared at you so lovingly as he fixed your hair a little.

He then got up, done his routine and threw on some sweatpants and a shirt. He then got the note stack from his drawer and pulled one, getting one of those glittery coloured pens, and he wrote some stuff down.

A little bit after he left, you woke up searching for your partner just to find out that the company has stolen him from you once again.

But at least you found a note stuck to his pillow.

"good morning my love, I hope you slept well, sorry I couldn't be with you this morning (again) and that I can't make you breakfast, but I bought your favourite cereal a few days ago, it's in the snacks container, I hope you enjoy it, I'll be back as soon as I can honey, wait for me :) "

And everytime he leaves you a note like that, you just melt all over again, wondering what you've done in your past life to deserve him.

You took the note and got up, going to get that box that has the words "seong my one and only" in a big font on the top of it, you put the note in with the rest of the other papers.

More morning notes, the letters he writes for you when you two fight cause he said that he can't possibly stand in front of you if you're on bad terms or else he'll cry, the note he confessed to you in, a paper ring he made for you along with some paper hearts. And random long letters he writes for you every now and then.

He's the sweetest and you love him to death.

ꕤ he really cares a lot and focuses on small details, so he noticed how you don't drink water a lot so he always has a water bottle for you.

You were out on a morning run, and after running so much you say that you became tired, so you stop to take a mini break as you put your palms on your knees, trying to bring your breath back to normal.

"y/n do you have water with you" he asked after he took a sip from his own water bottle - now an empty one - you took a few seconds before you shook your head no.

And he just frowns at you, though he was expecting it. He pulled out a water bottle from his bag and handed it to you.

"one day you'll die from dehydration and I won't say I told you so." he shakes his head like a disappointed parent as he watches you take a sip from the water.

when you were done. You closed the water bottle and handed it back to him since you didn't have a bag.

"I'd be dead, idiot, how would you even talk to me" you commented, making him rethink his choice of words.

"but thanks jay" you said as you adjusted your clothes,giving him a smile and heart eyes.

"anything for my girl" he ends his sentence with a kiss to your cheek, making them heat up.

It was good that he didn't know the effect he has on you or else you wouldn't live for real.

ꕤ having matching slippers now…. Tell me that ain't Jay core, TELL ME.

It was a Monday morning and you both had schedules, but of course, you almost slept in, so you got up in a rush when you finally noticed what time it was.

Jay was already in the toilet brushing his teeth as you came closer to the toilet and stood there in the doorway looking at him with sleepy eyes, after staring a little with a weird expression, you went to take your tooth brush to start your morning.

"Morning my love" he said as he kissed the top of your head the moment you stood next to him.

"Morning" you replied, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, yawning a little as you reached for your toothbrush.

As you were getting out your clothes to change into and get going, you noticed how big your slippers were, you would believe it if someone told you you're hallucinating.

"Jay" you called for him with a loud sigh, the boy being in the kitchen, making breakfast, you heard him give you a little hum.

"You wore my slippers again" you entered the kitchen, placing your hands on your hips.

Once he realises, he lets out a small chuckle.

"But dont they look cute" he turns to you and raises his eyebrows playfully.

You laugh at his antics, "boy just take your giant slippers and give me mine." You lightly hit his shoulder, shaking your head in amusement.

ꕤ obviously baking together is a must, it's like a special date night, even though it happens often it's still special according to you.

He promises you to try different pastries each time, and he actually does, you don't even know where he finds these stuff.

"Is everything ready?" Jay asks as he comes out from the room, placing his phone in his back pocket.

"Mhmm" you give a nod after you recheck all the ingredients laid on the counter.

"Okay, good girl" he says as he gets a bowl to start making the cookie dough.

You chuckle as you wait for his instructions, knowing he probably should take the lead since he's the better cook, unfortunately.

"So it said first we should make the cookie dough normally and add the strawberries at the end, I'm gonna need you to cut them into little pieces and smash them with a fork, okay?" He gives you directions, you listen carefully and nod at his orders, getting your cutting board out.

Even though it's very fun helping around in the kitchen, and you love his knowledge about cooking, what's more fun is when you get to taste the amazing pastries. As expected from Jay, and his amazing girlfriend.

"Oh my god, these are so good" you state after tasting the strawberry flavoured cookie.

"It's because they're made with love," he jokes, taking a bite of his own cookie.

"Cliché" you chuckle at him, making him smile as well.

Best believe that every week's pastries are better than the one before it.

© voikiraz 2O24

[bigbadvoxbox]

ALR LEMME TWEAK MY VOX X SUB!READER SMUT RQ-

my lame ass excuse for a plot: Being bratty and annoying vox during working hours, like constantly pestering him for 0 reason and eventually he gets fed up with your shenanigans and snaps (insert whatever happens nex here)

SOUNDS HOT i'm up for it

gonna put it into bullet points to help me get it all goin cus longer stuff ain't my strong suit and i'm already workin on two longer fics

warnings: smut. spanking. reader is a goddamn brat. edging. punishment. unprotected sex (don't do this).

- "Voooox. I'm bored. Can we hang out?"

"No, I told you. I'm busy. So why don't you go keep yourself entertained while I work." Vox insisted, beginning to grow frustrated with your antics. You, however, were having none of it.

- Taking his phone out of his hand and tossing it aside, trying to get his attention, only for him to take a deep breath through clenched teeth as he veeery gently redirected you to go somewhere else, picking his phone back up. He was starting to lose his cool now.

- Sitting nearby, continuing to whine and complain about how bored you are, noticing his eye begin to twitch, before half his face is beginning to actually glitch with pure frustration.

- Eventually, he loses it, and gets up from his chair to grab you by the collar, pulling you to his desk and bending you over it.

"If you can't help but be so fucking bothersome, then I guess I'll just have to deal with you."

- His voice takes on the static effect when he's getting really riled up. And it's the sexiest fucking thing ever.

- It starts off with spanking, his sharp hands catching on your skin, making the flesh bloom a rosy shade of red. He soothingly rubs your ass after each spank, even though you both know his pity and care are fake. He's mocking you.

"Awh, poor girl. Did that hurt? Good."

- Before long, his fingers are inside you. He isn't too careful, since this is your punishment for bothering him while he works, for being such a goddamn little brat. but he isn't heartless. he knows you can't take him without some preparation.

- His fingers pick up the pace until you're just almost there, right on that edge of bliss, and then he stops.

- He lets you come down from the close edge, before replacing his fingers with his cock (and what a cock it is).

- He's got you bent over his desk, holding your head down against it as he fucks you so hard the desk's legs scrape across the floor a little.

- "Is this entertaining enough for you? Good enough for a little fucking whore like you?"

- It isn't until your hole feels raw and your body feels like it's on fire that he begins to settle down, letting you cum, and pulling out. He watches with a satisfied smirk at the mixture of yours and his cum that drips down your thigh.

- "Can I finish my work now? Yeah? Good girl."

Sorry I know it's a little short but I hope you like it!

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

Sunshine [Joel Miller]

this is my entry to Summer Loving Challenge by @pedgito. Thank you so much for creating it and letting me be part of it. You're a star! Or shall I say, sunshine??

pairing: no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

wordcount: 1.7K

warnings: reader is she/her, sexual content/mild sexual themes (implied only), mild language, mentions of violence, overall safe to read.

prompt: ROADTRIP #2

She smiles too much, he thinks. 

And Joel ain’t too fond of folks who smile all the damn time. Reckons they must be hiding something behind those shiny white teeth. 

Thing is, he ain't even sure how Tommy managed to rope him into this foolishness. He’d stopped by his brother’s place for a cold one and somehow left having agreed to ferry his obnoxiously cheerful sidekick across the state to some new job she landed in Joel’s neck of the woods. Must have been the quiet begging in Tommy’s eyes that did it, he supposes. Joel may be a surly son of a bitch, but he ain’t heartless.

So here he is, with the sun barely up and her sitting pretty beside him. Sneakers-clad feet up on the dash like she owns the place, skirt of that yellow sundress riding up her tights.

Tommy’s friend. The motormouth. The endless goddamn ray of sunshine that Joel just knows is gonna make his jaw ache from clenching before they even cross county lines.

“Mind if I turn this thing on?” she breaks the silence, stretching a little to fiddle with the radio dials. 

He fucking does. He’d rather drive in silence. But just shrugs instead.

Figures out it’s not worth the argument.

And as expected, her taste in music is as saccharine as the rest of her, all twangy guitars and lyrics about truck beds and tan lines. When she starts humming along off-key, he has to work very hard not to grind his teeth to dust. 

It's going to be a long drive.

Joel sighs and glances over at her. Shifts a bit in his seat and admits, albeit grudgingly, that she's easy on the eyes. Has been ever since he's known her.

But the problem is, she’s just so… much. Never still for a minute, fingers tapping, foot bouncing, mouth running a mile a minute. He can practically feel all that restless energy buzzing under her skin, setting his own nerves alight. Makes him wonder if she even knows she's doing it, all them little twitches and squirms. If she's got any idea how it gets him all riled up without even trying. Joel ain't sure quite what to do with her.

And sweet Jesus can she talk. About this, about that. Everything and not a damn thing. About the weather and politics. The heat and some harvest festivals she’s helping throw. A whole slew of crappy dates, some dog she’s thinking of adopting. The gossip about people Joel barely knows and could care less about. So, he tunes most of it out, just grunts now and then so she thinks he's listening.

But at some point, whether because he’s getting bored or because of the heat, Joel catches himself actually paying attention. Learns she's a teacher, spending her days trying to cram knowledge into the heads of a pack of rowdy kids. 

"It's thankless work," she laughs, "but I guess somebody's gotta do it."

Joel thinks it's pretty admirable, choosing a job like that. Lord knows he's had his share of crap gigs. Brings to mind those long, hot days pouring concrete under that merciless Texas sun. The way heat would shimmer up off the fresh pavement and make him feel like he's in some kind of fever dream.

“Look, I didn’t expect you’d want to give me a ride,” she pipes up after a bit. “I appreciate it.”

"Mm," he grunts, committing to nothing.

“I mean it, Miller. I was really close to sticking out my thumb and hitching.”

Joel's hands tighten on the wheel at the thought. "That's a good way to get yourself murdered."

She cuts her eyes over at him. "How do I know you're not some kind of murderer?"

He snorts. "Do I look like a murderer to you?"

"I don't know. What's a murderer look like?"

"Not like me."

"Hm. That's exactly what a murderer would say, I reckon."

He shakes his head, more than a little annoyed now.

This damn woman.

When they pull over for gas and to stretch their legs, Joel finds himself watching her as she arches her back like a cat in the sun, that sundress pulling taut across her chest; the skirt riding up even higher. Makes him look away real quick.

“I’m going inside to pay,” she chirps. “Want anything? Coke maybe? A three-day old sandwich?”

Joel peers at her. Mutters, “Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Grumpy.”

Grumpy. 

It's hardly the worst thing he's been called, but it chafes at him for some reason. For a second, he wonders what it would be like to be someone different. Someone who said yes to Cokes and gas-station sandwiches. To yellow dresses and sunshine smiles.

"You ever think about how weird it is that we can just go anywhere these days?" She starts in again before he even gets back on the road.

He squints over at her. "How do you mean?"

"I don't know. Cars and planes and those talking maps on phones. World's gotten real small. Used to be folks who didn't stray more than a few miles from where they were born. And now here we are, two random people rolling down the road in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. Just 'cause we felt like it."

Joel's not sure he'd say he felt like it, exactly. But he gets her point. "I guess," he allows. "Makes you wonder what it musta been like. Back then."

"Doesn't it? No AC, no snacks, no radio to bicker over." She grins at him, teasing. "Though I suppose you would've done just fine without that last one, huh?"

He huffs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “They wouldn’t need a radio with you doing all the talking. Probably would've driven the whole wagon train up the wall with your yammering."

“You mean, I would’ve livened things up?”

"Livened," he repeats, dry as dust, and she laughs. It's a good one, Joel thinks. Bright and uninhibited in a way he hasn't heard often in this life.

Suddenly gets the strangest urge to reach out and touch her. Trail his knuckles down the line of her throat, feel the vibration of it under his fingers.

Wraps his hands around the wheel instead, wondering where the hell that came from. If she notices his odd moment, she doesn't let on. Just keeps rambling on about dysentery and fording rivers and how she definitely would've been the first to die of cholera. Joel lets those honeyed tones wash over him and tries not to dwell on the tight, hot feeling in his chest.

By the time they pull up at the little house Tommy helped her get settled in, it's pitch black out. He can just make out her face in the glow of the dome light, those big eyes soft and serious for once as she gathers up her bags.

"Thanks again for the lift," she says, real quiet. "I know I'm not exactly your favourite person to be stuck with."

"Wasn't so bad," he admits, and it's almost not a lie. "Glad I could help."

She hesitates with her hand on the door handle, worrying that plump bottom lip with her teeth. "I'd invite you in for a beer but I know you probably want to get home."

He does. He should. But maybe it's that little waver in her voice, the uncertain set of her shoulders. Maybe it's knowing that the second she steps out of this truck, the strange little bubble they've been floating in is going to pop. Things will snap back to how they've always been, her grating on his last nerve from a nice safe distance and him avoiding her as best he can.

And maybe he's just not quite ready for that.

"Well..." he drawls, "I reckon I could come in for a cold one."

The smile she gives him could put the sun to shame, all dimples and crinkly eyes. Makes that tugging feeling in his chest pull so sharp it steals his breath. 

He follows her up the porch steps and into the cosy hallway, his chest tight and his palms clammy like some nervous teenager. As she putters in the kitchen, fetching beers and clinking glasses, he stands in her living room and looks around at the organised clutter, the artfully arranged photographs, the bunches of wildflowers stuck in mason jars.

The whole place is so absolutely, utterly her it makes something behind his ribs ache fiercely.

When she comes back with two frosty beers, pressing one into his hand, they just stand there for a minute. Look at each other with the heavy weight of something hanging in the air between them. She takes a pull off her bottle, throat working as she swallows and it's more than he can take. The urge to put his mouth right there, to lick the sharp tang of hops right off her skin.

“So…,” she murmurs softly as she places her beer on the counter behind her and looks back at him. Her eyelashes flutter, and her gaze latches on his mouth. It’s a split of a second but Joel decides that he’s had enough. 

He sets his own bottle down carefully. Cradles her face in his rough hands and leans in slow, so slow, until he can taste her shaky breath. She meets him halfway, arms winding around his neck as she opens up for him, soft and sweet as summer rain. He tips his head to kiss her deeper and she mewls into his mouth, hands flexing against his shoulders, and Joel is lost. 

It doesn’t take long before they are stumbling back to her bedroom, all tangled up in each other. When he rids himself of his shirt and hovers above her, she is smiling, her fingers moving slowly to graze the warm skin of his back, and it’s so good Joel feels drunk on it. 

Later, after, with her curled up asleep on his chest, Joel stares up at the lazy spin of the ceiling fan. Marvels at the strange turns a life can take. How somebody can get under your skin until one day you wake up and realise you forgot how to breathe without them.

He runs his fingers through the wild tangle of her hair, feels her sigh contentedly against him. Lets himself imagine, just for a minute, that this could be his life. That he could have something this soft, this sweet, and keep it.

Joel blows out a long breath.

Drops a kiss to the top of her head and lets his eyes slip closed.

Maybe there's something to be said for all that sunshine after all.

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 3

Grass Talks (Literally)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: Soft, lowkey ooc Bakugou but thats bc I imagine him to be a lot more mellow as an adult. Little bit of a serious talk, but nothing crazy. Readers quirk is also mentioned

Word Count: 1k

previous chapter

The date had been going well so far, and the sun was even beginning to set since now it was almost 7:00 pm.

You two were currently lying on your backs together, looking up at the sky filled with clouds, stomachs full of yummy food.

"That one looks like a giraffe, or something else with a long neck." You said point up at a cloud.

Bakugou hummed, "Nah, I think it's a flower or something. Don't you see the stem? And there's even petals around it."

Tilting your head at a different angle, you tried to see what he saw.

"I don't see it! I thought I would, since I'm used to seeing flowers all the time..." You said while still looking up in wonder.

Bakugou sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, "That's right. You're a florist ain't you? What made you wanna do that?"

You stayed lying down and answered him, "Yeah, I've been a florist for a few years now. I chose it because of my quirk."

"What is your quirk anyways? Is it something with plants and all that crap?"

"Yep. I can talk to plants, so taking care of them is much easier and I love being able to help others that are struggling with their own plants."

Bakugou rubbed his hand along the grass, "So me doing this... is it hurting the grass?"

You closed your eyes and listened, hearing the grass ask what it was that was rubbing all over them.

"It's not hurting them, but they can feel it."

He pulled his hand away. "What about walking on the grass. Does that hurt 'em?"

"Sometimes it can. If you're walking normally, then no. But if you're stomping all over them, then yes it does hurt them." You said, finally sitting up and facing him.

You leaned over and ran your hand along the top of the grass very lightly, hearing the voice of the grass sigh at the feeling. You learned early on after developing your quirk that most plants actually enjoy being pet, if you can call it that.

"They like it when you do this to them. Just make sure you do it really gently." You said while showing him how to pet the grass.

He followed your directions with a grunt and did the same motion as you.

You laughed lightly, "Petting grass is kind of silly now that I think about it. I guess it's different since I know that the grass likes it."

He shook his head and pulled his hand away, "It's not. I think it's interesting. I have some plants at home, now I'm wonderin' if they're happy with me."

You giggled at that, "I'm sure they are. But thank you. I always felt like my quirk wasn't super useful since I couldn't be a hero, y'know?"

"You don't gotta be a hero to have a useful quirk. Everyone can find a way to use their quirk, trust me."

You smiled softly, "You know what, you're really sweet. You don't portray yourself like that on the media at all."

"I ain't sweet." He said looking away shyly.

"If you say soooo." You cooed.

He smirked lightly and looked at you, "Thanks for uh, being genuine by the way."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be genuine?"

"I mean like, almost everyone I've met just wants to be with me because I'm a hero. It just makes dating a lot harder, I guess."

You frowned at his words. You knew there were people who were out for money, but to play with someone's feelings like that? That was just heartless. You knew Bakugou was a grown man and fully capable of handling himself, but you couldn't help but feel bad.

You place on of your hands on top of his and said, "I understand what you mean, and I want to let you know that I don't have any bad intentions at all."

"I won't lie and say I'm not a fan of you as a hero," You continued, "but right now I'm getting to know you as Bakugou. So I hope you'll continue to allow me to."

Bakugou genuinely smiled. No smirk, or sly remark following it. Just a smile.

"Thanks. That means more than you know. But on that same topic, I also wanted to talk to you about a boundary I have if we're going to continue seeing each other." He said seriously.

You nodded your head and listened attentively.

"Because of my line of work, I just ask that you be honest with me about things. I fuckin' hate liars in general, but I really need you to understand that I can't have someone around if they're gonna be keepin' secrets and shit." He said frowning, almost as if he was thinking of a particular person when speaking about liars.

You nodded and smiled. "I promise, I'll be completely honest with you. I really wanna keep seeing you and if that's all it takes then I'm willing to do it."

He grunted. "Good. Let's clean up now, I'll take you home."

Just as you were about to start cleaning up, your phone went off. You picked it up quickly and saw that it was an email, a notification from the site you write fan fiction on.

You bit your lip and thought about what Bakugou just said. Deciding to ignore the notification, you just continued to clean up.

...

After Bakugou had dropped you off back at home, you quickly changed into your pajamas and got comfortable.

You said goodnight to Cheerios and your plants, who said goodnight back.

When you got in bed, you looked through your emails and at the notifications from HeroFiction.com that you had received earlier.

You began to think about Bakugou's words again.

"I fuckin' hate liars."

You shook your head and tried to rid away any negative thoughts you had. This secret wasn't that big of a deal, and it was probably for the better that he didn't know.

Keeping one secret wouldn't hurt, right?

...

next chapter

authors note

i had fun writing this chapter :) i hope you liked it! i also hope you liked softer bakugou here, hehe.

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl @gold24fish @cxp1d @rv19

(those in pink are not able to be tagged unfortunately)

[valkyyriia]

Hiii! It is I — Veli! no not nagi /lh

Can I request for a fic with Ellis where he happens to be lovesick? He and reader had to be separated for a period of time due to work, travel etc. And maybe they reunite at the end, but upto you

Take care and stay hydrated <33

Growth

Words: 1107 CW: None | SFW Tags: Separation, Mutual Pining, Jude being Jude Prompt: Ellis + Lovesick Pairing: Ellis / Reader

Note: Hi Veli! No, Nagi - no, Veli - hahaha! Thank you for the request, I love Ellis. 💜 This one is sweet! ... And got away from me a bit. Whoops. I guess I'm long-winded tonight, hahaha. I hope you like it!

"Be safe," you told him, your nose buried in Ellis' purple and black jacket. Ellis held you close, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I will be," he smiled. "I wouldn't miss your happiest day for anything."

"Yeah, yeah," Jude cut in irritably. "We get it. Yer gonna cry the whole time yer separated. Let's get a move on, Ellis. We ain't got all day."

Ellis squeezed you tighter for a moment, a murmured 'sorry' whispered into your hair, before he let go and followed Jude out the front door.

As you watched the door to Crown Castle shut behind them, your heart constricted painfully in your chest. You hated being left behind on missions like these.

Crown had received intel that there was a branch of human traffickers taking up residence in Ipswich. They were using the Gulf of Orwell to ship their captives all over Europe.

Victor had claimed the mission was too dangerous for you, that you would be a target if you had accompanied them. Even if you were just there to act as Fairytale Keeper, you'd be singled out the moment you were spotted near Jude.

You knew the more likely truth was that you would be a liability to Jude, Ellis, and Roger if you were to accompany them. If things went south, you'd be left unable to protect yourself adequately, and the others would be scrambling to defend you, putting themselves in danger.

You absolutely hated feeling like a liability to Crown.

It was understandable that you didn't know your way around weapons. Compared to everyone else in the organization, you had had an easy upbringing. Jude never stopped mentioning it, in fact.

You were the Fairytale Keeper. Your job was mostly to assist when needed and to record the evil deeds of the Cursed.

Your job was generally not to infiltrate drug dens and human trafficking organizations.

You knew that, and still.. it bothered you.

You hated the idea that if Ellis - or any of the others - were to get themselves into a tight situation, you would be more of a hinderance than a help to them.

And that was how you found yourself in Victor's office, an hour after the trio had left on their mission.

"Ah, if it isn't our lovely little robin," Victor greeted cheerfully. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I want to learn how to protect myself." You were candid with him. "I don't want to b a liability anymore."

Victor's eyes widened and he looked at you in mild surprise. Of all the things you could have wanted from him, that was not what he anticipated.

"Of course, you're welcome to anything in my personal armory as a member of Crown, my dear robin," Victor said, "And I would be more than happy to help you in any way you desire. If you're certain, I'll set out some time to teach you."

The next morning found you in the castle courtyard, Victor walking you through the use of various weapons in his repository. A few of the others came to observe, some offering pointers, others simply watching.

Truth be told, the other members of Crown didn't mind protecting you when needed. All of them, even Jude (though he would deny it), appreciated the optimism and sunshine you brought them on a daily basis. None of them held it against you.

Regardless of your decision to stay with them, they wanted to leave you with the ability to return to your normal life if that's what you chose to do.

They were evil, certainly - but far from heartless. They all cared for you in their own way.

Every day you practiced with Victor, you found your mind wandering to Ellis and the mission. Was he okay? How was the mission going? When would he be coming home?

You missed him.

You were looking forward to seeing him again, safe and unharmed.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellis was having similar thoughts.

Ellis hated being separated from you, too.

He had long ago learned to squash down his desires. They were unnecessary and only served to get in the way of his goals and the happiness of all around him.

And yet he found himself wishing more and more for your presence near him.

Ellis was quiet for the majority of the train ride.

"Yer gloomier than usual, kid," Jude huffed, lighting a cigarette. "Ya left the bird for what, an hour, and it's all doom and gloom?"

"Sorry," Ellis said. "I was just thinking."

"Well, stop it," Jude snarked, ignoring the look Roger was giving him. "Yer gonna break something."

Ellis smiled noncommittally, looking out at the landscape whizzing past them.

Part of him wished you could have joined them. It was unusual for him and Jude to take a mission without you nowadays. Victor, however, had said this one was too dangerous for you.

Ellis agreed, of course. You had had the barest of minimums when it came to weapons training. Your happiness was his top priority, sure; but your safety was equally important. He couldn't have you dying before you had your happiest moment.

Ellis also knew that you seeing what was going on in this place would make you sad. He somehow wanted to see that even less than he wanted to see you get hurt.

The fact that this was in your best interest didn't ease the ache in his chest any less. He missed you already.

This was going to be a long few days.

The mission went by quickly, all things considered.

Thanks to Roger's exemplary hearing and Jude and Ellis' quick thinking, they were able to infiltrate the den and capture the ringleaders within a few days. The remaining members of the organization had been scattered and left leaderless. Sure, another leader would pop up eventually - but it was doubtful it would be at this same location, and it would take awhile to recoup their losses as well.

For now, they've done all they could.

In contrast to their train ride to Ipswich, Ellis was smiling on the return trip. He would be seeing you soon, and that thought was enough to make him happy.

Ellis found he considered his own happiness a lot more now that he was with you. He found it didn't bother him too much, though; you had said on many occasions that his happiness brought you happiness. If it made you happy, he'd do anything.

Jude took one look at him and scowled, turning back to his book.

Ellis didn't mind. He was just looking forward to your sweet reunion.

Note: I've been sitting on it for awhile, and debated on writing their reunion, but I think I prefer the open-ended ambiguity at the end. I hope this is alright with you. 😊

Taglist: @natimiles @queengiuliettafirstlady @candiedcoffeedrops @goddesswitchmother Banners/Dividers by @natimiles

Let me know if you want to be added!

[reddragon-cowboy]

Eyebrow twitches up sharply. And the smirk disappears as he admits a chance for her words sink in. Then, his upper lip curls up, resembles close to a sneer, and the husky timbre of his voice hovers darkly in the dim lit room, wafts through the air like cigarette smoke under his breath, filters between hot wires and cords connected to bright monitors that paint his tall figure in stark blue as he looms over her.

❝ Oh yeah ? ❞ No hint of surprise presents itself in his tone, nor does surprise manifest upon his features that maintain a steel rigidness as solid stone, now devoid of humor as his mind quickly analyzes over this proposal Hal granted him on a silver platter.

His hand clutches the guns grip in a tight hold. The weapon doesn't waver nor stray off aim of his target, but there's no intention to waste a 9mm bullet unless a reason incites him to violence with a simple application of pressure against the trigger. Kid or not. Whether someone was younger in age or older in years was irrelevant to Spike when a big fat bounty was stamped across their forehead. ❝ You okay with jus rattin out on your lil friends jus like that, kid ? ❞ He questioned, unimpressed by her lack of loyalty as she was clearly crumbling under the pressure of this situation, the way she was willing to sacrifice the freedom of her associates to a miserable life behind bars.

But the benefits involved ? Well, his wallet gets paid in full, and she possessed the rod to reel the fishes in closer to shore. ❝ Maybe my fortune isn't running dry after all. Okay then. . . you got my attention. What's someone y'know on Mars that got a bounty closer to yours ? Possibly, maybe, bigger ? ❞

The brandishing of his gun was met with a cold look, a deep frown, eyes wide but strangely empty of the spark they'd had while she'd been messing with him all this time. He wouldn't do it. She was worth more alive anyway. Those she'd harmed needed someone to undo the damage she'd done, untangle her programs and viruses until all was as good as new.

She would have done it nicely in the first place, if they paid her enough.

Nimas didn't know loyalty, not even really to each other, and the more Hal was starting to learn that, the more she felt a certain amount of cynicism filling in where so much naivete used to be; a family of liars and cheats, doomed to forever be in retreat to as far as the reaches of the known universe would allow. Hal was young, but she was already on that same path, cloaking her whereabouts in a blanket of stars, the cold vastness seeming to open up and swallow her whole.

"Tons of lowlifes come close to my price tag, guy." did they? Hal actually didn't know, it had been a while since she checked.

The other hackers that came close, as far as she could remember, were also Hal, just under different monikers. That would no-doubt make things complicated. Surely there were other cyber criminals, ones who weren't amateurs who Hal hadn't already played for suckers time and time again.

"Okay. Maybe not tons, but I'll more than make up for my bounty with just how many actual, nasty bad guys I can catch for you."

Actual. As though she wasn't just as bad if not worse. At least she was no bounty hunter, bottom of the intergalactic barrel if you asked her, and here she was, about to help one.

"And I'm talking some real freaks! Not just jaywalkers and.... space clowns or whatever."

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Womanizer ft. Geto

womanizer!Geto is very much aware of how fine he is. Struts through the school with his head and nose way to fuckin high in the air. You think the hungry way the girls look at him might actually feed his energy, he seems to literally level up from it and its absolutely ridiculous. But don't think he doesn't notice how your burning gaze rake over him before you pretend it has no effect on you.

womanizer!Geto even though he's hella cocky, still has a soft heart; just doesn't want anyone to about it. Whether it's of monetary value or not, he'll help any way he can. Suguru might be sex on a stick and confident as fuck but he isn't heartless. Only Saturo knows this side of him.. Till one night when he tried to play match maker and end up spilling the beans to you.

womanizer!Geto isn't just a pretty face, so doesn't like his girls brainless. Unless its cause of his cock ofcourse. He doesn't keep em long but expects to get a bit familiar before he tries to hit. Doesn't think anyone not pursuing a higher knowledge is really worth his time. Interesting lil fact: of all the years Suguru's known you, he swiftly peeps how intelligent you are and always been.

womanizer!Geto obviously loves attention from the ladies. Like waaay too much. Turns you off matter fact. And he notices. Which is weird. Cause he usually only notices when women throw themselves at his feet. "Goin to Geto's party inna few weeks? Come on, hang with us? Could use another pretty face there." Suguru over hears Satoru ask you after class. "Hmmm.. Maybe. Though I think you two horny sluts have enough eye candy on the menu." You answer with a eye roll. "Me? We? Sluts?" He feigns ignorance as you shake your head laughing. Meanwhile, Suguru wonders when in the world has he ever thought bein called a slut was arousing cause.. His dicks startin to chub.

womanizer!Geto isnt really into easy women. Most of the cute lil thangs from school put out just watchin that talented tongue swipe across his bottom lip. Knows he doesn't have to do much work and sometimes that puts him off. He doesn't even like to talk with a woman if he doesn't think he's gonna hit but nothin gets his dick softer than a girl that open her legs to him before she even knows his name. Funny though.. Suguru notices you don't date. At all. Kinda wonders what it would take to get a chance with your pretty ass. So he asks you one day while you guys practice sparring. "Y/n, how long have we known each other?" Straightening from your fighting stance, absolutely befuddled as you answer. "Bout 5+ years, as you already know. Why?" Suguru steps closer, trailing his index finger down your cheek. "Cause I wanna know why in the 5 years that you've known me, you've never given me a chance." You tsk at him. Is he serious? "Boy, ya dick been in every one under the sun." You're response throws him off, makes him chuckle as he thinks about your words. You ain't lyin. He uses protection though.

womanizer!Geto has always had a high sex drive. Except lately. He just doesn't know why he can't get it up when he's not thinkin about you. Hasn't been interested in any of his usual conquests lately. To add to the madness, jerking offs become a pain in the ass if he doesnt let you swim into his thoughts. So he sulks and pouts about it in class one day- till he sees heading to your seat. Suguru's dark eyes are glued to how your tits slightly jiggle in your robe as you walk. Man, would bet every single penny he had that you're fuckin gorgeous everywhere. "Hi, y/n" "Hey, Sugu! Wassup?" Oh shit.. No, no, no, no.. Cute way you say his name, moist pretty plump lips, and that fuckin body.. His dick. His dick is definitely what's up right now.

womanizer!Geto usually has a harem of cute girls following him around like puppies. Not the night of his party, he trails after you like one instead. "Come on y/n, just gimme a chance." He a bit tipsy so you continuously evade him. You're soakin wet from dodging Suguru's advances, his nasty words and exploring fingers. So you head into the kitchen to poor yourself a drink and gets some space. Unfortunately for you he meets you there and you groan at his persistence. "Geto, quit it. You're just horny. And there's plenty of fuck toys round here for you to play with. So beat it." You grumble. Suguru whines at your rejection, cornering you as you try to side step him. "Don't like when you're mean to me. Or when you call me that." He lies through his teeth. Only one of those two sentences are true. "Fine, Sugu. Happy? Now go find one of your playthings. Fuckin manwhore." Okay now hes perplexed, your mean words having the same effect when you called him a slut. Suguru thinks you should know since it's your fault. He pins you to the counter, pressing his hard dick into you. You gasp, fingers gripping into the sides of his shirt, havin to fight not to let your eyes flutter shut at his bulge pressuring your tingly clit. "Can't, y/n. Dick never gets hard for them anymore. Have fucked in weeks. Can't even cum without you on my mind. Help me out, baby pleeaase." You've never seen him so desperate, pawing at your backside as he sticks his face in your neck. Won't stop dry humping and licking you as he inhales your scent. "Sugu-" He cuts you off, pleas wearing you down real quick. "Promise I can make you feels so good. Know how to make that lil kitty purr, baby. Lemme show you?" You're eyes trail off over his shoulder as you think about it. Fuck, why not? He's the most wanted attraction in town, how could not get a ride too? You accidently catch Saturo's gaze. Grin wide when he does a peace sign, sticking his tongue between the two fingers and wiggling it. He points at Suguru and gives you a thumbs up, signalling how good his BFF's pussy eating skills are. Shit, that seals the deal; you def need a demonstration. "Fine, Sugu." You feign irritation, pushin him back and pullin him towards his bedroom. "Better not disappoint me. Not gonna get another chance, playboy." Promises of your pleasure spill from Suguru's lips as you drag him by his t-shirt, him secretly hoping you'll continue your lil mean act while riding his cock.

[oh-to-be-a-murderer]

Tony : you're grounded! No more spider-man-ing!

Spidey : Nuh uh, I ain't getting grounded

Tony : What do you mean "ain't getting grounded" ? There's no option in here!

Spidey : Nuh uh

Pepper : Go to your room

Spidey : I am sorry ma'am ill respect your words and listen to you and repent my actions

Tony : HoWwWw!??!

Bonus:

Pepper : Tony you're going too soft on the kid. Yesterday he was out all night! And you didn't tell him anything?

Tony : Well what do you want me to do? Put him in a timeout?

Pepper : yes, at least for four minutes!

Tony : YOURE A HEARTLESS MONSTER, DO YOU NOT LOVE HIM????!!!!!

//I saw this on pinterest and had to bring it here. GOLD//

@tonystark-official @spidey-official

[kuyurasu]

Spider Lily

Dottore x Reader

Part 1

Part 2

Summary ; Soulmates are tied with their lifespan. After being sold to a man as a slave in sumeru, you forgot about the boy you had saved as a child. He didn't.

WC ; an obsene amount

Reading time ; depends.

Warnings ; a fuck ton. Porn with plot, p in v, mentions of rape and sodomy BUT NOT APPLIED or discussed in further chaps, trauma, severe abuse, slavery, suicidal thoughts, realistic healing, dark side of teyvat basically, heavy sexual content in the future, oral (m+w), praise, degradation, spanking, dom/sub, rough, soft, sweet, mean idc just being rabbits., so many more... don't be nervous, I'm just a little pinch of mentally insane.

... Haunting Adeline, anyone?

Authors note : Enjoy and sorry for being MIA, life fucking me hard-core in the ass. Also, I don't care who reads this. I'm not your fucking mom. I ain't gonna tell you what to read.

Perhaps it was a cruel fate that brought you to where you are now. Something messed up the fairytale, princess wonderland story you were supposed to be in. and somehow, you were here.

If you could curse the gods above, Celestia, and everything, you would. But physically, your tongue was tied. Incapable of muttering but a few words. It was a cruel world to be living in, and while others were blessed, you were in the dirt. Beneath all of them. A slave, they called you. Your own father sold you just so your mother couldn't save you, run away, or live without having a slave tattoo etched on your wrist.

Your father was a cruel man. Heartless, even. He didn't see anything wrong with abuse, it seemed, or treating his daughter or wife like cattle. He cut off the tip of your tongue when you screamed and fought with him as he sold your older brother, ultimately resulting in his death. He broke your bones and scarred your flesh beyond recognition. And then sold you away.

It was when you were 4 years old, though, that you first met the emotion of happiness. It was soft and warm. It started in the center of your chest and slowly spread out to your entire brain. It was definitely infected, yet so beautiful.

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, your eyes softening at the little boy in front of you. He was dirty and breathing heavily, yet he was wearing nice Sumeru clothing. It made your heart ache that he was clearly better than you, and yet, your slightly shorter tongue couldn't stop itself from speaking to him. Your voice was shaky and raspy from years of silence.

The little boy did not seem to mind; he actually had a fascinated look in his eyes at the sight of her semi-cut tongue.

The boy looked around frantically, though, at the sound of yells and searches among the villagers. They were looking for him.

"Please, help me." He asked for you. His bright red eyes were the only thing you could make out from the night sky, the mud covering his body, and his trembling form. Regardless, something struck a chord in your heart to help him. Perhaps it was something that you knew would be direct disobedience to your father, but helping anyone and getting back at him was all that pushed you to help the little boy.

You ran into the house, not even bothering to hide your footsteps until you made it to the small cabinet that hid the medical kit. The forest rangers provided every household in the rainforest with them, and who knew you would be using them on someone other than yourself and your mother?

You ran from the house, soft little breaths escaping your lips as you made it back to the boy with little time passing. You were secretly surprised your father did not hear you, so he must be out somewhere.

"H-Here." You crouched next to him, holding out the medkit to him. The red-eyed boy deftly began to pull everything out and use the supplies with unexpected accuracy for a little child.

You looked up nervously, watching the group of villagers go in hoards as they looked for someone—the little boy, not that you knew that. Not that he told you. He wrapped his injured foot and hand before catching sight of the slavery tattoo branded on your wrist. "What's that?" He asked quietly, his small, pale hand grasping your wrist before you could hide it.

You were stunned into silence for a moment, speechless as to what to say in response. You swallowed before answering, "My father wishes to sell me to Hadanish."

"The slave owner near the desert?"

You gave a small, reluctant nod in response to his inquiry, knowing it was something to be ashamed of, even terrified of. The muddy boy grabbed your shoulders, pulling you close.

"Come with me." He pleaded with you. How could he let the little girl who saved him go into slavery? It would kill him alive. No one has ever shown him kindness before you. He couldn't let his savior just die. He knew what happened to slaves, especially women. He was disgusted at the mere concept of you being in the clutches of Hadanish, a man known for his rape, sodomy, and abuse. You already looked to have experienced hell; he couldn't bear thinking of you experiencing more of it.

"N-No, I mustn't... I have to stay with my mother. sh-she needs me."

He grasped the little girl's cheeks, making them muddy as well, while the yells and hollers of the villagers looking for someone persisted. He shook his head, seeing the tears in the little girl's eyes. It was sad that you already seemed so grown up. "You saved me. I will never forget this. I will save you, I swear." He whispered to you, his heart breaking as he knew he had to leave. He had to go now.

You stammered slightly, your heart pounding in your chest, as you began to watch the little boy stand, taking the medkit with him. "W-Wait!" She called out for him, and luckily, he did pause. "What's your name?" She asked him softly, receiving a faint smile from him.

"Zandik, and yours?"

You whispered your name, only for him to nod and run off into the night.

It has been over 500 years since you were alive. It was weird considering you thought that you'd have been passing away like any normal person... But when you got to 40 years old and you still hadn't aged past 23, you knew something was wrong.

So did Hadanish, but he took advantage of it. He knew that as a slave who had no signs of age or death, you were like the perfect worker. It wasn't until your bones ached and threatened to break after hours of labor that he let you rest, only to get about 5 hours of sleep, and that's being very generous. He sent you to nation after nation in chains as a walking slave to serve from master to master; you wouldn't be surprised if everyone forgot about you—just something like a package for them.

Slowly, over the span of 200 years, you began to believe them. Tormented by what you saw through the ages, by the age of 396, you were so deep and lost in your own mind that it was like all you could think about was doing your labor. Until your bones break, until you throw up and can't think about your own name, until you forget to be.

It was at age 512, 5 years ago, that some person helped you. Practically saved you, as you were near death one particular night.

That morning, you woke up to a strange, nagging feeling. Something is screaming in your brain to get out of there. It was weird. After all the years you had spent completely alone in your head while your body got abused left and right, it was odd to hear a sense of self-preservation still remaining.

It was before 4 a.m. on a Wednesday when you got that dreadful feeling. It was something that you had never truly experienced before. Something in your gut told you that if you did not leave in less than 10 minutes, you'd never wake up again.

Carefully and strategically, you stood; being used to the chains that clamped down on your ankles, you shuffled silently to your current master. Asleep, unaware of whatever danger was lurking near the camp. It set your teeth on edge, the approaching lethalness, but the best you could do right now was get the hell out of there.

Your heart pounded and ached in your chest. It had been so long since you felt like hope was even possible in your situation. Maybe it was when you turned 124 that you stopped believing? You forgot. It didn't matter now. To hell with all the past grievances, you were getting out. Today.

With a shakiness you hadn't experienced in awhile, you reached for your master's pocket. The dogs around you, also chained to the metal post, did not stir. Neither did any of the other people as you slipped your hand around your key—a delicate yellow shade. It caused your breath to stutter as you weakly walked behind one of the tents, carefully unlocking your chains, as the idea of them waking up to their prized forever slave to be escaping...

Yet they were trusting. In over a decade of events and masters, you had never once tried to escape. Before today. It was because, at the ripe age of 4, you were already out working for your father—minor tasks, but still. Then you joined your brother; it was ingrained in your very soul to be a slave. To be a worker. They trusted that their product wasn't even aware she could escape. but they underestimated the power of instincts and wanting to remain alive, even for you.

The key twisted, and the lock came undone a second more. It was like time froze for a long, agonizing second, waiting and listening to anyone waking up to the betrayal—no, the resistance of a slave.

When nothing happened, you took off in a sprint. It felt so weird to fully extend your weak, shaky legs, but you told yourself that it was the most freeing, beautiful feeling. The nation of Natlan was beautiful yet savage; the land was not suited for the unfit, yet luckily for you, being a slave that worked until the skin was completely off your feet and bleeding, you were quite capable of this. It was like the pain of you running for hours on end didn't even phase you; the wheeze of your breaths did not stop you, nor did the trembling of your legs to take a breath prevent you from running all the way until you physically collapsed on the sands of Fonatine, laughing like a fool.

It had been far, far too long since you smiled and laughed until you were gasping for air while your legs trembled. Sore and probably having broken bones from your relentless running, while your head was spinning with exhaustion and dehydration. You were on a delirium high, dying as you lay on the beach.

After so long, you had basically killed yourself by escaping. It didn't make you sad; in fact, you laughed even more. Until you were puking up the water and bread from yesterday's lunch. It was hilarious!

You did all this just to die! It was so...

So… beautiful! It was like nothing you had ever experienced before. A crazed expression on your face as suddenly you could not laugh anymore. Your chest was just falling and rising rapidly while your heart rate shot up to levels you'd never felt before. looking up into the sky with wide, shaky eyes.

For some reason, the little boy you helped when you were just a small child flashed before your eyes. Oh yeah. Did he live a good life? You wondered, Did he suffer but escape earlier than you? Should you have accepted his offer to escape?

Maybe you did have a regret in your miserable life. The one choice you could've made could've changed your very life. What would it have looked like? Would your brother have lived?

"H-Hold me." You whispered out, unable to even lift a finger as you stared up in the sky, unable to breathe any longer as, for some reason, it was like life had swept under your feet...

The water dripped slowly. Just dripping in her open mouth to slowly hydrate her body so as not to put her in shock. Foolish girl, she already looked like she had put her heart through a shock. It was lucky she was even barely alive. Although he couldn't necessarily blame her, not after seeing the several slave tattoos all over her body when cleaning her up.

Perhaps it's for the best that she did such a thing, so she knows what life feels like. Overwhelming would be an understatement. He would probably tell her to look after that insanity she felt for that short amount of time; perhaps she could find life where she found death.

Maybe.

He would have to report to the doctor that he would not be coming back until tomorrow, which did worry him slightly. but if he told the harbinger that he had found another rare experiment item, he would let it pass.

"Foolish girl. The world has done you cruelty, yet I have to use this tactic. Sigh." The man gently placed a damp cloth atop her forehead, cooling down the fever ravaging her insides. She would take a while to heal, but that was why he was here. As a Fatui operative, he had never truly saved a life. It felt nice.

Perhaps she would be suited for a life in Snezhnaya; who knows? All he knew in this moment was that she was dying.

"Your soulmate is probably waiting for you somewhere. C'mon, foolish girl, wake up for them."