#im gonna be fucking dead on my feet tomorrow

[beetlejuicesgraveyardrevue]

wild how I do one (1) physical activity and my brain is immediately like ‘yeah!!!!!! Do more!!! Do more right now!!! You cannot stop moving or we’ll fucking die!!!!!’ like. bro. calm down.

[laviechuchu]

Omfgffggff I js found u through the nerd guy fic and I'm obsessed!!!

Ik we are all not so sane here so,,,

If I can request a silly rebellious reader and stepdad punishing the reader for hanging out with good for nothing guy friends with skimpy outfits

:3 Thanks!!! ( You don't need to do ... this is straight up crazy ik lol )

Author’s note: AHH HELLOOO IM SO HAPPY!!! AND OFC SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT!

Content below: use of y/n, AFAB reader, brat taming, punishment, use of nicknames such as babygirl, pet, cheating?, stepcest, minor writing smut, bratty reader, cigars, reader is 18+, dubcon.

Proceed to read..

“Ugh i told you, pick me up tomorrow. My stepdad is coming and i wanna act long enough so i can take some money from him. Then you and cain and me can have some fun! You bring the alcohol!” You giggle as you lay down in your very pink and girly room. The teddy bear your stepfather gave you for your birthday just slumping onto your pillows

You giggle as your best friend starts to ramble about how fun tomorrow will be and starts to ask the real questions “your stepdad is hot! Not gonna lie, i mean! Hes a silver fox!” She squeals as you gag “yuck no! Live with him for a day and you’ll see how controlling and bossy he is” you mumble.

The laptop was still on video call as you roll around on your bed. You sigh as suddenly you hear a doorbell “shit! Be right back!” You yell and slam your laptop closed.

Your feet scramble to the door and open the wood separating you and your money machine.

“Daddy! Welcome home” you giggle and hug him. Ugh disgusting…he smells like his cologne and smoke. He looks at you with disinterest and lets out a low hum. His eyes looking at your perked nipples from your lack of bra.

“Have you been studying? As i told you? I gave you two weeks” he says, pulling away from the hug. What the fuck? Does he have a stick up his ass or something?

Oh yeah about that “ah… yup!” You say with a lopsided grin, batting your eyelashes at the older man. He seems to see right through you but you dont really care, all you need is a few hours and his money and then you can meet your friends-

“Yeah? Ill be testing you tonight.” He says bluntly and starts to head to the kitchen to get dinner for himself.

“Well… im heading out cain and nicole” you say, a little more happily then you mean to. He takes out a cigar and looks at you dead in the eyes. “No.” He states bluntly “wearing a skirt that short? Thigh highs? And what is this..” he comes closer to you your chest almost just almost reaching his. He pinches at your left nipple “a flimsy piece of cloth, that you little ones call a top.”

You yelp and cover your chest “why the hell were you looking?”

“Im your father, and you are not going out like that, with your so called boyfriend who only wants you for your body” he states. Grabbing the back of your top like a cat would.

He goes to his office and throws you on the chair and locks the door

“Question one, look at the fucking paper. A, B, C or D?” He loosens his tie and undoes his pants. Sitting you on his lap “the faster you finish the faster ill let you go” he says putting his cigar down.

“Fuck! I dont know? B?” You say, you feel something warm against your cunt. You unconsciously grind on the feeling “bad girl” he says as he pulls your panties aside and shoves the tip inside. You feel the slight burn and you tear up. Sick motherfucker is gonna rape you?

He grabs your waist and shoves everything inside in one go. No lube no nothing. Just raw fucking cock.

You yell and cry “fuck you! You sick piece of shit” you attempt to get off his lap when he pushes you on your chest. His heavy balls against your clit.

“Its okay babygirl.. you dont need to use your smooth brain anymore” he whispers in your ear. Slowly moving in and out of you “you can be my personal pet from now on” his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit. You moan gently, your eyes tearing up at the smell of your stepdad the one you used to love but now.. you’re not sure anymore

“Daddy…d-daddy” you mumble dumbly, his cock slipping in and out of you. Your feet barely touch the floor “im sorry baby, this is your punishment” he says before his pace becomes faster and faster. You squeal and try to hold on to him. Your pussy squelches and pulses. Your ass connecting to his hips.

“D-daddy!” You cry. The swirls on your clit becoming faster yet precise “becoming a dumb little girl already? Poor thing… must have been so pent up” he coos, your brain is turning into mush as your legs shake from the pounding. Your cunny fluttering around him, be groans “ah fuck…”

His hand that was once on your clit, now on your nipple. Tweaking them just painful enough for you to keep your sanity in check. “Need a new piercing on your nipples now. Maybe my initials?” He teases.

“I-im gonna cum” you manage to mumble out. The wet skin slapping is making your brain fuzzy “daddy.. i need your cum” you say your tongue lolling out, awaiting his tongue.

He smirks at your now dumb form and gives a few more thrusts but pulls out at the last second.

“Maybe after you get the questions right” he says his gentle smile making you feel warmer.

(SORRY THIS IS BAD ILL WORK ON IT BETTER SOON ENOUGH, I WAS MEANT TO PUT THIS IS DRAFTS BUT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT)

[pedge-stuff]

God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — — 

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — — 

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

[joyfulness03]

just left some comments. got this on my dash at 2:30 pm. it is now 10pm. might be feeling ill. might be terminally unwell about this. i have NO idea how to function like a human being but i sure didnt get anytrhing i meant to done today. quack we've never spoken but oh my god this is the coolest thing i have ever seen and also you've killed me. i am dead and dying. i dont think im going to recover from this and i blame you. holy fuck. what a time to discover this fic. jesus christ. i have no idea how im gonna sleep tonight but i just am going to keep rambling until i feel like i've managed to coherently express just how ground breaking, inspiring, invigorating and muse-inducing this is for me. just how fucking cool every chapter has been to read. i literally couldn't put it down, i wish i was exaggerating but i need to go get water and try to do something before class tomorrow. you are literally the coolest. this is the coolest. i love this and i am metaphorically at your feet rn. i cannot believe i didnt know this existed before today. you, for better or worse, have probably just changed the course of my entire mental state for the entire rest of the semester. dude you're so fucking cool.

I should go drink water and take my meds. (wheezing laughter) God help me. I love this so much that I can't articulate it properly. You alone might get me back into fic reading, which could reinvigorate and restore my own writing inspiration. if anything is going to do it it's going to be This.

I can't believe I got cliff-hangered on THIS. CHAPTER. this is the worst thing you could have possibly done to me (positive) (dying) (having the time of my life) (oh my god holy fuck oh my god) well i left comments only to come here and ramble for another hundred or two words. god i am not normal. hey if you're reading this you should read this fucking fic

"Excuse me--"

Emmet's voice. Ingo abruptly about-faced with a warm squint-smile, only to freeze.

"Erm," the subway boss jolted back a step at the unexpectedly swift swivel, the ends of his pristine black coat swishing with the sway of his legs, "Warden?"

[lilac-melody]

I’ll probably wait until Saturday to upload chapter 1 of the L&K novel. Just the first two chapters are well over 60 pages, and if I want to continue writing my fic (which I do) and have everything done without destroying my sleeping schedule, I’ll have to save the super long chapters for days I have more time.

[somewhereintime1986]

basking in the glory that was the def leppard & journey concert (until i wake up in less than 4 hours for my shift)

[milaek]

I'm sorry Opera is an entire ass genre and much of it is so so so good and FERAL MAKING. Don Giovanni gets DRAGGED TO HELL AFTER KILLING A DUDE AND BEING A LITTLE SHIT AT HIS GRAVESITE. BITCH IS LITTERALLY DRUNK AT HIS GRAVE AND IS LIKE "SUCK DICKS IDIOT YOURE DEAD AND IN THE GROUND" AND HIS BESTIE (who's tooooootally not in love with him and thinks he can fix him just maybe if he is so so good) IS LIKE "PLEASE MY GUY YOURE THE BEST BUT THIS GUY IS DEAD YOU WON ALREADY AND THE VIBES IN THIS GRAVEYARD ARE RANCID AND I THINK ITS HAUNTED ACTUALLY?" AND DJ GOES LMFAO YOURE A PISS BABY AND IM GONNA PROVE IT! HEY DEAD GUY IF YOURE SO COOL WHY DONT YOU JUST POP OVER FOR DINNER? OH WAIT YOU CANT YOURE FUCKIN 6 FEET UNDER LIKE A DEAD IDIOT LOSER WHO SUCKS AT SWORDFIGHTS!" AND THE FUCKING STATUE. THE FUCKING STATUE ON THIS GUYS GRAVE GOES "FUCKIN BET?" AND THE BESTIE IS LIKE "OH SHIT OH FUCK I TOLD YOU THIS PLACE WAS HAUNTED WE HAVE TO GTFO"

And DJ, being the dickbiscuit he is goes "nah nah nah. Let's hear what this idiot ghost has to say. Yeah you think you're so cool? You think you scare me? Fucking bet. See you tomorrow at 8 biiiiiitch we'll have a fucking feast in honor of your dead ass."

And his bestie is like "oh God please don't say that why would you say that you're gonna die I'm gonna die were both gonna be killed by ghosts I'm litterally pissing myself."

And the statue ghost says "see you there shitheadddddddd" and then proceeds to drag the bitch to hell the next night.

Absolutely feral. Also some of the thickest, deepest bass vocals on display that could go up against an oak tree and win.

And that's just *don giovanni* one of the most overdone mainstream operas. DONT TALK TO ME ABOUT THE ENDING OF AIDA I WILL NOT SURVIVE

OP turned off reblogs so this is my post now. Behold, the "Objective quality vs. degree of ferality" scale

Here are a few of my own personal datapoints:

[bleutectic]

hey yall just a heads up that i might be a bit inactive the next few days as im SUPER FUCKIGN BUSY HOLY SHT 

this is probably the longest tags ive ever written lmao

[generic-lab-assistant]

Here it is, the man, the myth, the Floridian

I wrote this all at work so sorry if its all summed up terribly i havent written fiction in a long ass time & i mainly write with bullet points & shitty scripts, i was planning to try and make a comic of him so maybe one day thatll happen, plus i might fuck around & make a comic where he enters the carnival and stuff, who knows- anyway since i wrote this at work and have god awful memory, go easy on me

Ralph is sitting in front of his camcorder (or whatever you used to record videos in 1980), after showing off his guns and acting like he knew how to load them, he quickly ran through his Epic Carter Removal Plan.

“Now, ya see, I have this timed bomb- once I press the special button on it then I got ‘round, eh, 15 minutes I think, to jump an’ tackle that sonuva bitch! Then, I’ll just hold him real tight and the bomb’ll go off! I’ll blow that corpse-raisin’ bastard to hell where ‘e belongs and save the damn country- plus, the world!!”

He pauses, then takes in a realization but smiles.

“Course I’ll ‘ave to die too, but itll be known that what i did was good when they get the news from ma’ dad. Ha- he’s gonna be so pumped to know that his son succeeded at somethin���!”

“Now, tomorrow is my big day, so to whoever ends up watchin’ this tape after I go blam, make sure nobody after Carter knocks down any satellites or raises any zombies. Good luck to me.”

He grins and shuts off the recorder.

*The Next Day, Nov 20. 1980: about 12:30 in the afternoon*

A small crowd gathers in Florida, Jimmy Carter is by a podium giving a speech. As he ends and is walking among the crowd (ala George Wallace, what up Bremer), Ralph presses the button on his bomb and begins to weave through the people and towards Carter. Once hes only a few feet away, he looks on with an anime-like sense of determination and sprints the rest of the few feet to Carter- leaping through the air and tackling the president to the concrete- yelling ‘IVE GOT YOU YA SONUVA BITCH!!’- as people yell and scream and two policemen rush to grab Ralph off of him.

As they grab him, his thoughts run theough him in a panic:

“Why’d the bomb not go off?? Why the hell didn’t it go off??!!”

As he is dragged away he yells at the officers- “Goddammit Im rigged to explode! Let me go! Let me the hell go!! Im bout ta blow the fuck up if ya dont let me go dammit!!”

He continues to panic and attempt to get out of the policemens grips, when his bomb timer beeps. With a sharp yell of ‘DAMN YOU ALL-‘ only slightly cut off at the end as the explosive goes off and Ralph & the policemen explode. Blood & bits of gore and miscellaneous bits & pieces rain from the sky and hit those in crowd, several people who were the closest retain a few minor injuries after the incident, but those harmed the most are the two (now dead) pigs, and Ralph, who is almost unrecognizeable as he is now in very many various bloody parts.

His parts are picked up and disposed of after a quick autopsy in a cheap wooden box, not even a coffin. His only relative is his father, who could care less about proper burial. He is only left with a headstone in a Floridian cemetary: ‘Ralph Hewitt Myers

Oct 8. 1949-

Nov. 20. 1980’

[hollowedwing]

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

_________________________________

tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part. 

Word count: ~1,800

_________________________________

You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly. 

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly��did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought. 

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters. 

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door. 

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events. 

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on. 

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess. 

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

[adezahnae]

While We’re on a Little Trip (Part 6)

A/N: IM LATE AS FUCK WITH THIS CHAPTER BUT HERE IT IS!! DON’T KILL ME😭😭

Warnings: Smut, flashback, angst, mentions of drugs, prostitution, heartbreaking, murder, etc....

Tagged People: @ahgasearmyfan @whoreforshuaaa @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @janedukiesworld @staynctzen127 @keeach @nanascupid @winwiniee @stormxiii05 @winkoes

Your POV

I laid there, silently crying as I replayed the event in my head. I kept feeling the slap to my cheek each time he ran his hand over my hair. I flinched away from him when I felt a small tug on my hair. “I’m sorry...” He mumbled. I sniffed and nodded my head letting him know that it was okay.

He breathed out and pulled me closer to him. I felt stiff in his arms now. The fact that he put his hands on me in such a harsh way it ruined me. I could still smell the stench of the weed he was smoking. There was so many questions running. Too many, so I want some fucking answers. “Who is she?” I asked. “Y/n-“ “I want to know, who the fuck is Alexa!?” I yelled sitting up crying.

He sat up with me and pulled me towards him. “FUCKING TELL ME! IM SICK OF YOU AVOIDING THIS!!” I yelled. He sighed in defeat. “Okay..come here.” He said. I looked at him and turned in his direction. “Alexa is, your sister....” He said. I felt my breathing stop.“What?! N-No...That’s not true...you got her pregnant with a child?! I have no sister!” I denied. “Alexa was before Mia and you.” He said.

“...H-How did you meet her?” I asked. “Okay...it was five years ago..I was at a club with my workers.” He said.

Flashback...

Jaehyun’s POV

I got out of my car and walked up to the club with my men behind me and few of my workers. The bodyguard instantly let me through with my men and smiled. “Good evening, Mr. Jung sir..” He said. I nodded in his direction and continued to walked. I got in and I smiled, watching everyone dance on one another and drink.

I walked to the VIP section and sat there, watching everyone from a distance. One of my customers came up to me. “Jae! Man...I need another hit..” He said. “What?” I asked, lighting a cigarette. “I need some more!” He said. I cocked my eyebrows and leaned forward. “I gave you two packs three days ago.” I said. He shook his head nervously laughing. “N-No you didn’t!” He said. I blew out the smoke leaning back in my chair.

“Yes I did. Where’s my money for those two packs?” I asked. He sighed. “Look, I will get your money tomorrow! I promise!” He said. I jolted up from my seat and grabbed his shirt. All of my men pulled out their guns, pointing to him. “You said yesterday. Look you junky fuck, I don’t play about my goddamn money. I want my shit now. Now where is it?” I growled. He shook in my grip, not responding. I furrowed my eyebrows and pushed him in the face.

“ANSWER ME WHEN IM TALKING DAMN IT!” I yelled. “I don’t...have the money...” He admitted. I let his shirt go and let out a chuckle. I kicked his stomach and stomped his head. He yelled out in pain as I continued to beat him. “Now you know what that means right?” I asked.

He shook his head, coughing. “Mike, take him out back. I don’t need a mess on my outfit.” I said sitting down in my chair again. The guy gasped and shook his head. I took a puff of my cigarette and watched them carry his outside the club.

I turned back around and seen a beautiful girl. I watched her as she smiled and swayed her hips to the music. I seen her look over at me with a seductive eye. I smirked and motioned her to come to me. She did so, strutting over to me. She made it to the VIP and she sat down beside me.

“Hello there, pretty..” I said. She giggled and replied. “Hey there, sexy..” I smirked. “Why don’t you come and sit down with me, hm?” I asked. She did so and scooted towards me. I gave her a glass and poured champagne in it. “Thank you.” She said sipping from it. I took a glass for myself and leaned back, putting my hand over the the back of the chair where she sat.

“Are you alone?” I asked, referring to a man. “Yeah, friends forced me out. I’m happy that came though. I met an attractive guy like you.” She said. I chuckled and drunk from my glass. “How nice of you to say..” I replied. “What’s your name?” She asked.

“Jae. And yours is?” I asked. She smiled. “Alexa.” She said. I took her hand and gave her a kiss. “Nice to meet you miss Alexa.” I said. She blushed. “You look adorable like that, I wish I could see you do it all the time.” I said, brushing my thumb over her cheek. I took the bottle of champagne. “You want another glass or do you wanna go?” I asked.

She kicked off her heels and leaned closer to me. “I think, I’m gonna want another glass. You’re too attractive to pass up.” She said holding her glass out. I poured her a glass and sat the bottle down. “I have to say, I like the way you demand power from others and how you get your respect. It’s sexy..” Alexa said.

I chuckled and took my glass, sipping the wine from it. “I have my ways, beautiful. You like bad men like me?” I joked. “I heard bad men give you a feeling you’ve never felt before..” Alexa said. “Hm,” I sat my glass down and brushed her hair behind her ear. “You wanna test that rumor, Princess?” I asked. She bit her lip as she looked at me.

- -

“Ohh fuck Jae...” Alexa moaned in my ear. I groaned and lifted her leg up, putting it over my shoulder. “Shit, you’re so wet..” I mumble. She moaned and wrapped her other leg around my waist. I smirked and lifted her from the bed, taking her to the wall of my bedroom and slammed her against it, ramming into her again.

Her hands went to my back and scratched down it, making me bit my lip. “Fuck, baby.” I whispered. She threw her head back against the wall, groaning. “Fuck yeahhh!! Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” She moaned. I angled my hips to get a better angle.

She gasped and gripped on me hard. “Right there! Ahh shit! Yess!!” She exclaimed. Found her spot. As she clenched around me, I felt myself coming close as well. I placed my hands against the wall, ramming harder and harder into her. “Are you gonna cum, huh slut? You gonna squirt on this dick again?” I asked her with a smirk. She nodded her head.

I tsked. “I can’t fucking hear that. Say it..” I said. She groaned out. “DADDY IM CUMMING! AHHH MY GODDD!!!” She cried. I grunted as I came in the condom as well as she squirted. I brought her back to my bed and I pulled out quickly and rubbed my hand over her clit, making her squirt more. She cried out as she made a mess on my rug. I smirked and kissed her. “Good fucking girl..” I praised.

Her body calmed down and she weakly smiled. “That’s...oh my god..” She said. I smirked and lifted her up to her feet and helped her to my bathroom. I turned the shower on for her and let her get in. “Aren’t you gonna join me?” She asked. I got in the shower with her. “I guess I will..” I said.

- -

We were both in bed, sleeping. I felt her hand reach over me and go to my wallet, beside me. I furrowed my eyebrows and grabbed her hand. I heard her gasp and I opened my eyes. “You’re a hooker?” I asked her straight forward. “No...” she mumbled. I turned to her. “Then why are you going in my wallet?” I asked.

“I need the money...” She said. I cocked my eyebrow. “For..?” She bit on her lip in nervousness and rushed out my bed. I grabbed her by the arm to stop her from leaving. “No. Tell me why do you need it and maybe I’ll give it to you.” I said. A tear rolled down her face. “My boss will kill me..” She said.

“Who is your boss?” I asked sitting her down and sitting beside her. “I can’t say..” She said. “Yes you can, tell me..” I said, placing my hand on her cheek to calm her. “His name is King. He claims to be the King of all gangs. He runs me as a prostitute to take money from gang leaders. He’s also I guess my pimp or whatever he calls himself when talking to me. He told me if I didn’t get his money in two hours, I’m gonna be dead.” She explained.

I chuckled and got up from my seat beside her. I went to my closet and pulled out my sweatpants and a hoodie of mine. I threw it to her. “Put that on.” I said going to the closet. I pulled out one of my suits and began to dress. “Where are we going?” She asked from the room. I came back, buttoning up my shirt. “We’re going to your boss.” I said. “You look...good..” She said. I smirked.

“Thank you very much.” I said pulling on my jacket, finishing the suit. “HAECHAN!” I called making her jump. “Calm down.” I said. He came in the door. “Yes sir?” He asked wiping his face, trying to remove the red lipstick on his lips. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked him up and down. “Are you making out with a girl?” I asked. He nervously darted his eyes from me.

“Sorry sir..” He nervously laughed. I sighed and pinched my eyes, sighing. “Johnny!” I called. “Yes sir?” He asked. “Go and get the car ready. I have to make a trip.” I said. He nodded and walked away. “Come on.” I said to her. She followed behind me. “What are you going to do to him?” She asked. “Just gonna talk...” I said.

We made it in the car and I turned to Taeil. “Find King...who?” I asked Alexa. “King Chu.” She said. “Yes. Find his location.” I said. He typed in the name of the hacking computer. We waited for the process and it finally popped up. “He’s in a warehouse near the Seoul Hotel.” Taeil said. I patted his back. “Thank you. Keep him tracked for me.” I said. “Yes sir.” He replied.

“Jungwoo, go ahead and drive.” I said sitting back in my seat. “Yes sir.” He said starting the car.

- -

We made it to the location. “Slowly pull up.” I said. He did so and stopped the car. I breathed out. “Johnny, Taeyong, Mark, Yuta with me. You three keep a look out for any of his men who approaches the warehouse. Take them down when you see them.” I ordered and opened the door. “Yes sir.” They said. I made my way to Alexa’s side and helped her out the car.

I walked to the door and everyone kicked the door open. Johnny and Yuta rushed over to King and grabbed him, putting him on his knees in front of me. Mark and Taeyong pointed their guns at him. “Who the fuck are you?! Hey-“ I nodded for Johnny to hit him in his head with a gun to shut him up. “Don’t even try to call anyone. They will all be dead in seconds. I have ten men in cars each, surrounding your warehouse and three by the door. And trust me, all they need is snap of a finger to blow this shit up with you in it.” I said.

He glanced at Alexa. “Why do you have her? She’s useless..” he scoffed. I landed a punch to his face, making his mouth bleed. “Belittle her again I will fucking kill you.” I growled. He laughed. “You fell in love with her after a few hours and now you’re here, beating me up like you own the damn world? Huh! How pathetic. I don’t fucking know you.” He spat. “Well how about we greet each other then. What’s you’re name?” I asked, knowing the answer. “It’s King. And how about yours you wanna be fancy thug?” He scoffed. I smirked. “It’s Jae..” I said.

His head snapped in my direction. “Fuck...” He whispered. “Surprise, surprise...” I said. “Look....I’ll give you all you want! I-I didn’t mean to disrespect you in anyway!! I just...didn’t know it was actually you standing in front of me. I-I worship you!” He ranted in fear. “To hell with all of that bullshit. You try and claim that you are the boss of all gangs, huh?” I asked. “Sir, please...” He said. I gripped his hair.

“At this rate, you’re one of my bitches.” I growled. “Sir...I mean no disrespect to you...Do you want Alexa? I-I’ll give her to you! She’s free! Take her!” He said. I grabbed Yuta’s gun from his waist and slapped him with it. “Does it look like I’m here for me to take her!?” I yelled. He whimpered in pain. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, just let me go! I’ll give everything I own to you!” He cried. “I already own everything you have, including you! As I said, you are one of my bitches.” I spat.

“How about I run you like you run Alexa huh?” I asked. “Sir..what is your point in this?” He asked. I hit him again with the gun, making him cry out in pain more. “THE FUCKING POINT IS, WHY ARE TREATING HER LIKE A DAMN PROSTITUTE!?” I yelled. “It’s how I also get money! I’m sorry I’ll never do it again! I’ll never take your name again and I will treat her right! Just one more chance sir!!” He begged and cried. “No..One thing about me is that I don’t give second chances to fakes like you. I should fucking kill you.” I said.

He panicked. “Sir! Please! I-I’ll do anything!!” He said. “Fuck that. Tie him up.” I said, taking off my jacket. Yuta and Johnny lifted him to his feet and took the rope they had. They tied his hands up and dragged him to a pole, hanging the loose end there so he could hang. I walked over to him and took his gun and knife. I took the knife and stabbed it in his side. He screamed out in pain. “Sir please!! Stop this!” He cried. “Beg for it, bitch.” I growled.

“Sir..please! I admit my mistakes and I will never do it again!!” He cried. I took the knife and cut his face. “I don’t think that was convincing enough. I said, beg for it Bitch..” I growled grabbing his chin, forcing him to look at me. “I’m sorry sir...please! Please let me go! Sir, I’ll obey your orders only! No one else’s and not even my own! I won’t tell people how you look or anything, just pleaseeee let me go!!” He cried out. I slit his chest, legs, arms, and face again.

“I don’t think I’m pleased bitch. Do something to make me happy.” I said standing back. “I can’t...My lord, My Boss, My Master. I won’t do anything like this again!!” He said. “Master is a very intriguing name to call me...hm. Say it again.” I smirked. “Master! My Master!” He yelled. “Now who’s bitch are you?” I asked. “I’m my Master’s bitch!” He cried.

I smirked. “Good, now you have one more thing to do for me.” I said setting the knife down. “Yes?” He asked. “Take your beating like a good bitch. Boys, beat him.” I said walking away. They all rushed over and began to beat him with everything they had. I sat in his chair and watched. I looked over to Alexa watching in fear. “Come here.” I said calmly. She walked over to me hesitantly. I pulled her into a hug. “Its alright. Really.” I said. She looked in my eyes and nodded. I smiled and turned to the guys.

“Stop.” They all pulled away from his aching body. “Alexa, do you want to say anything to him?” I asked. “No...kill him..I hate him..” She mumbled against my shirt. “Okay..Mark. Taeyong. Shoot.” I said. King began to panic and cried and scream. “No! No please! I’m sorry!” He cried. Taeyong and Mark cocked their guns back and shoot him 27 times.

They left his body hanging, dripping of blood. I grabbed my jacket and put it on. “Let’s go.” I said. Everyone followed out after me and I took Alexa by the hand. “No one is gonna hurt you anymore. You’re all safe.” I said. “But..I have no where to go! My mom kicked me out the house!” She cried. “You will live with me. We’ll take care of you. That’s honesty.” I said. She fell to her knees and hugged my legs. “Thank you! I need this!” She cried. “Of course...” I said. There was something about this girl that I love...I don’t know what it is...

Your POV

“You mean to tell me...that you are a..a gang lord?” I asked hurt. He sighed. “Yes..but that’s all behind me now..” He said moving towards me. I avoided his touch. “No...I need some time..this is...” I said getting off the bed. “Y/n..don’t leave me. I really need you..you’re the one person who changed my life for the best. I can’t live without you. You just can’t leave me. There’s not a second in my life that I don’t hope and wish that my past will come up to you and my daughter. I hate my old life. My dreams, every night...is that I get murdered or you get killed by some random thug off the street who hated me, and my daughter gets shot in her head. please...Y/n I’m at my breaking point right now..I can’t do this alone. I think I might go crazy if you leave me. D-Don’t leave me..”

He began to cry and I hesitantly went to him. I pulled him in my arms and hugged him. “It’s okay..it’s alright..I promise..” I said. He grabbed onto my body as if it was the last time he would hold me again. “Y/n, I mean it..if you leave, I will snap. I won’t be myself anymore..I feel myself breaking. The old me is trying to force its way out..” He said. I froze. Those words sent chills though my body. I felt..scared of him..he laid us down on the bed and he tugged my hair behind my ear. “Don’t leave..” He warned. I shook my head. “I won’t.” I mumbled. He kissed my lips and pulled my body close to him.

I felt his breathing even out as he fell back asleep. I still had so many questions, but one lingered the most. “What will happen if I actually left?” My body was already afraid, my mental state was ruined and I feared nothing but him. My heart was yelling for me to stay but..my mind and body said different. I just needed some time alone. I slipped out of his grip and went to the bathroom.

I looked up in the mirror to see the black eye he gave me. I seen the red bruises he left on my body and I could still see the grip marks on my neck along with hickies. I shed a tear as the moments replayed again. “BITCH!” Slap. I flinched at the memory and made my mind up of what I needed to do.

I walked back out the bathroom and grabbed my robe. I took a duffle bag and packed everything I needed in there. I threw it over my shoulder and peeked over at him to see him sound asleep. My heart ached and cried as I looked at him. Am I really about to leave the man I care for and love? I have to...

I quietly walked out of the room and to Lia’s, packing all her outfits and toys and cup. I took her bag and picked her up carefully. She mumbled in her sleep. “Mommy..” She said. “Shh...You and mommy are going somewhere..” I said. “Where are we going? Where’s Daddy?” She asked as I walked out of her bedroom with her blanket.

“Shh, daddy can’t go right now. He’s sleeping. Just go back to sleep.” I said. She hummed and fell asleep. I made it to the door and gripped the door knob. I looked back to the bedroom he was in and I closed my eyes. I breathed out and opened the door, leaving him behind...

[maybebanks]

Stronger

JJ Maybank x Reader

JJ was deeply loyal to his friends, still he had no idea why the right group could accept one new member, you. JJ is always sour to you, being a kook and all. But this summer, something changes.

⚠️:hints to violence

“Jesus, Y/n,” JJ mumbled, the words just seemed to fall out of his mouth without his permission. He shuffled in his seat.

At this Y/n felt insecure. JJ usually put her down, with his snarkey remarks that always landed a place under her skin. She didn’t know why. But she was new to the group, and apparently that was all JJ needed to hate her.

Y/n gripped her iPhone, “What now JJ? You gonna comment on my looks? Or is it the sound of my voice that annoys you?” She snapped.

The group surrounded them, they weren’t new to this kind of bickering between Y/n and JJ.

“Quit it guys,” John B ordered.

“I will, when Y/n quits at life,” JJ joked, but said it in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off, Maybank,” you groaned, not wanting to insult him any more.

“Ooh? Did-did y’all here that? Y/n just talked back to me?” JJ said, faking shocked.

You rolled your eyes.

“JJ, don’t start,” Pope added. He knew you didn’t like to fight back. You usually never insulted JJ back.

“Nah I wanna hear this! Say it again Y/n!” JJ exclaimed, pointing towards you.

You looked away, tensing up.

“Say it to my face Y/n,” JJ continued, in a threatening manner. JJ thought it was slightly playful. And hoped you wouldn’t know the reason why he was actually picking on you.

“Leave me alone JJ,” you muttered, moving closer to John B sitting next to you.

“Y/n, tell me, have you always been this much of a pussy? Or are you just afraid of me?” JJ taunted.

“Watch your mouth, asshole,” you insulted.

“Make me,” he snapped, leaning closer to you. Towering over you.

JJ smirked, “you wanna know what I think? I think you, being a waste of space and all, would be easily forgotten if you just..hm pulled a Scooter Grubbs,”

You rolled your eyes, “I can’t deal with you right now,”

“You’re gonna leave?! Expected,” JJ chuckled.

“It’s not worth it,” you muttered, heading out the door.

“JJ why do you have to be such a dumbass?” Pope said, but JJ was just motivated by this. Feeling disappointed that the fight didn’t go as planned.

He followed you outside, you were by the Pogue, grabbing your backpack.

You heard footsteps and immediately perked up, “god, what is wrong with you?” you groaned.

“I was thinking...” he began.

“Look, I don’t give a fuck. So please get out of my way,” you gestured towards him, there was minimal space on the dock.

“Not until you give me what I want,” JJ shrugs.

You gulped, stepping backwards, “JJ, let’s talk tomorrow,”

JJ knew you were intimidated, it wasn’t just his height that scared you.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” JJ scoffed, giving you a dirty look.

“Whatever,” you muttered, trying to walk past him. You were restricted when he grabbed your arm

“Let go of me,” you said, pulling away lightly.

“No. I want you to fight back,” JJ blurted. Still holding you tight.

“I’m not gonna fight you,” you said, pulling away hard enough to be released.

JJ ran a hand through his hair while taking a sharp breath in, then he stepped towards you. Shoving your shoulders with force, not enough to make you fall.

“The fuck!” You shouted, and now triggered and annoyed. But you couldn’t fight him. So you calmed your breathing.

“Fight BACK!” He shouted. He wanted to be insulted. He wanted to be punished.

“I-..what? I can’t!”

“I know you’ve got a mouth on ya! Insult me!” He demanded.

“No. Just let me go. Please,” you continued.

“No!” He screamed, then he stepped forward towards you and in one motion, he grabbed your face with one hand, forcing your eyes up to him.

He studied you, you were frozen, but still remained composed.

“You never fight back, it’s like you think your better than me. Why.” JJ spits.

“Im not gonna fight you-“ you repeated.

“Why?” JJ interrupted.

“Because...your stronger than me,” you shrugged.

JJ backer up, he was slightly confused. He knew you could tell anyone off. But you never tried with JJ. He wanted to know why he was different. He wanted to know why no matter how much of a dick he was to you, you wouldn’t insult him back.

“Stronger than...like physically?” JJ asked.

You look at the wood below you, still standing on the dock.

“Look...I don’t pity you JJ. But when I found out about your Dad, I-“

“Hold up. Who...what the fuck is there to know?” He defended. He was mad someone told you, he was mad that someone he, deep down wanted to impress, knew his biggest insecurity.

“JJ,” you sighed.

“What? Who told you?!” He exclaimed.

“No one...” you lied, not wanting to get John B in trouble.

“Stop fuckin lying,” he said angerly.

“You’re...you’re scaring me,” you croaked out.

“Fine. Then leave,” he stated, he was still clearly angry, you noticed his jaw clenching.

You were afraid that if you moved, he’d snap.

“Just know you’re fucking dead to me,” JJ whispered, but you heard him.

You frowned, but understood that now he probobly wanted you to leave. You walked around 6 feet past him. When you turned around.

He hadn’t moved, he was staring off into the distance.

You watched him for a moment, ruffled his hair a bit, then kicked some rock that was on the dock. You heard him mutter small things like “fuck.”

“Me doing this,” you spoke up, “doesn’t mean I’m giving up on you,”

JJ didn’t turn around to face you yet.

“We don’t deserve that shit,” you admitted.

JJ furrowed his brows, that was enough for him to turn around, “we? We are nothing alike.”

You frowned, but instead, slowly, you pulled at the hem of your t shirt, to reveal purple and blue marks the size of a fist on your torso.

“How the fuck you get those?” He asked, slightly calmer. He wasn’t connecting the dots.

“I should go,” you replied. Turning around and heading past the house.

JJ jogged over to you. You gasped when he touch your shoulder to turn you around.

When you looked at his face, it was softer now.

“Just because I don’t like you, doesn’t mean I can’t beat the shit out of someone for you,” JJ told you.

You noticed he was trying to help, but he couldn’t.

“It’s okay. I’ve got it under control,” you answered, starting to walk away again, he jogged infront of you.

“Was it Rafe? I swear to God I’ll kill him,” JJ muttered.

“Um..fuck..I shouldn’t have told you...just, in the moment...” you started to panic, you hadn’t thought of the consequences in that moment. What reckless JJ would do to protect his friends or anyone labeled in his friend group.

“I’m glad I know,” he answered, nonchalantly.

You felt sick suddenly, you didn’t want JJ to have another reason to hate kooks.

“JJ...wait...these,” you paused to point to your hip, “they’re just from me being clumsy...I fall like all the time-“ you stopped when he starting closing the space between you two.

He didn’t say anything, he just was walking closer. You weren’t intimidated at that moment. You sensed the comfort JJ was offering.

The truth was, you were a kook, who decided to become a pogue. And some of the kooks hated you for it. So, Rafe and Kelce sometimes would pick on you, and when they were high it would escalate. Sometimes even that plug Barry got involved.

You didn’t want tell anyone your problem and JJs was much worse.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

For JJ, he felt less broken. If someone was going through similar pain.

“I should go,” you pushed him by his chest gently. To create some distance.

“Right. You want me to walk you home?” JJ offered, it was weird, kindness coming from him.

“Uh...” you contemplated, JJ placed his hand on your bare shoulder. It was meant to be comforting. But him putting himself up for you, even though he was struggling finally hit you, and your eyes stung, starting to water.

“Just let me walk you home!” Rafe smirked. You were alone with him. Outside the country club, in the dark parking lot.

“Please don’t do this. Not tonight,” you pleaded.

“Why?” He paused to grab your hip, “going surfing what the Pogues? Your such a slut you wanna wear a bikini?” He seethed. His face so close to yours.

“Stop!” You shouted, but that angered him more. Then, he covered your mouth with his rough hand. Sending a powerful punch to your side.

“You know how you end this, Y/n. Just say you’ll do it,” he taunted.

“Never.”

“No. I’ll be fine thanks,” you shook your head. Wiping the tears away quickly.

“Can I at least walk you past the driveway?” He asked. JJ really wanted to apologize for how he’s been treating you. It was his own defense mechanism to hide his feelings for you. But now, he couldn’t apologize, it’s not who he was.

He would make it up to you with his actions.

You sighed, “is really hot today, don’t you think?” You said, making conversation.

JJ nodded, his boots dragging against the gravel as he joined you walking.

The uneasy feeling in your gut remained, even after JJ was talking about the plans for the rest of the summer.

“And what about midsummers? You still going to that?” JJ asked.

You didn’t even notice you stopped walking, until JJ gave you a confused look.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

You brushed him off. Just shaking your head and not saying anything.

After you both started walking past the driveway you frowned.

“JJ, you should leave. I don’t want you to get hurt,” you blurted.

“Me? Why are you always worried about everyone but yourself?” JJ scoffed.

“Why are you?” You retaliated, “it’s not up for discussion. They have numbers,” you said.

“They? What the hell are you talking about?!” He shouted, now angry.

“JJ. I’m not going to ask you again. Leave,” you demanded.

He didn’t respond because the sound of an approaching engine could be heard from down the road.

When you looked up you recognized it. They were slowing.

Your instinct was to run. But JJ stood still.

“JJ, let’s go! What are you doing?” You asked frantically.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“No...JJ don’t do this. Let’s run!” You pleaded, tugging at his bicep.

“They hurt you, they hurt me.”

Part ii

[kiribakuficrecs]

hello!!! im going on a very long trip at the end of april and I'm looking for some very long fics to download to keep me entertained! i dont care what they're about as long as there's no major character death or mentions of non-con. ur blog is a godsend ilysm and you do such a good job thank you so much 🙏

hi there!! i definitely have a lot of good lengthy fics i can recommend to you!

quote love unquote by newamsterdam 

Sero nods. “It’s the chance of a lifetime, really,” he says. “We want you to date Bakugou, for the sake of his reputation with the press. Some public appearances, a few ‘candid’ photos. For at least a couple of months.”

“Bakugou sent you to ask me to date him?” Kirishima asks, baffled.

“Of course not. We, his people, are asking you to date him. He’s going to have to get on board, if he wants his career to survive. And in the bargain, Riot will get all sorts of publicity, because their lyricist will be dating one of the industry’s hottest stars. A win for everyone.”

When Kirishima Eijirou's band hits the big time, he's not prepared for his newfound fame. He's even less prepared to meet the actor he's been crushing on for years, or to start dating him as a publicity stunt. The closer Kirishima gets to Bakugou Katsuki, the more he realizes he's in over his head. But it's hard to stop, once his heart is in it.

acceptance and denial by poteto

It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.

cause the darks not taking prisoners tonight by imatrisarahtops

“Are those soba noodles?” Kirishima asked.

Again Bakugou’s only reply was a grunt. He offered no further explanation—not that Kirishima honestly expected one—as though making soba noodles from scratch at half past four in the morning wasn’t at all a bizarre occurrence and made complete and total sense. For a fleeting moment, Kirishima even wondered if maybe he was the odd one here. Besides, he’d already decided it was generally not in his best interest to question these types of things with Bakugou, especially when it was something essentially harmless.

When Kirishima has a nightmare and is unable to fall back asleep, he accepts defeat and decides to study in the common area of the dorms. What he doesn't expect to find is Bakugou, also very much awake, and Kirishima can't help but think that maybe they're both having the same problems with sleeping. If he's worried, it's just because they're friends. (Right?)

the weight of your hand by kamin

That night, to the citizens, the explosions were a jolt of fear at every blast, but to the heroes and the students of UA, they were punches and swings, fierce fighting and loud strength. The explosions were the pulse of the battle, and the power of a boy that would never back down.

One after another, explosions set a chorus through the shuddering city.

And then, suddenly—the explosions stopped.

(In which Bakugou’s kidnapping goes a little differently, and just a few seconds could change so much.)

so take my hand (your life will be brighter) by multiclassmaps

When a stranger shows up at the ice rink during Bakugou's usually private training sessions, Bakugou expects to hate him. He doesn't expect to develop feelings that become increasingly difficult to deny, or for them to help each other sort through their emotional baggage. - Bakugou really didn't like Kirishima's smile. There was something about it that made his stomach hurt, something about it that made it difficult to focus. He definitely hadn't thought about that smile on his way to the ice rink that day. He definitely hadn't.

distance makes the heart grow fonder (false) by dragontrappedinhumanskin

When Bakugo and Kirishima get hit by a quirk that forces them to literally stick together or face the less then desirable consequences, how the fuck is Bakugo supposed to keep his crush hidden?! Well, turns out he never needed to.

-- “Well, this fucking sucks, how are we supposed to train?!” "Really closely?"

perihelion by tauontauoff

Bakugou was a comet, blazing out of reach. Kirishima knew he was stupidly lucky that his furious trajectory went by close enough that his fingertips got to graze the cowl of fire. It was enough.

During Christmas Class 1A and 1B spend a laid-back week learning about extreme environment hero work in the Alps. Kirishima was used to keeping part of his feelings for Bakugou hidden, and had every intention of keeping it that way, but things don't always go according to plan.

fight me by mr_todoroki

Bright red, spiky hair. Annoyingly bright smile. Clothes that radiate ‘look at me’ vibes. Neon yellow tank top with black shorts. And those were definitely crocs on his fucking feet.

Yeah, Katsuki hated this guy.

-

Bakugou gets a new roommate.

quietly by chezka

“We’ve been taking the same way to and from school for weeks,” Kirishima grinned, and then when Bakugou frowned at him he put on an affected pout, tilted his head so that he was looking at him through his thick, long lashes, “you never noticed? Am I that easy to miss?”

He could barely finish the sentence before a laugh escaped his lips, and Bakugou rolled his eyes, hit him with a shoulder a little more violently than necessary.

“You stick out like a sore thumb, broom-head,” he grumbled, promptly ignoring Kirishima's whining about his hairstyle when it started coming, “I didn’t notice ‘cause I didn’t care.”

“And now you do?”

everyone knows that cats are independent by purplepersnickety

Eijirou enjoys his job, working the graveyard shift at a 24/7 coffee shop. His daemon Riot is always there to keep him company, and he likes meeting the early-morning patrons and giving them the best possible kick-start to their day. It's been his routine for about a year now.

Then one day, a grouchy guy with a daemon in the form of a lion walks into the shop in the dead of night, and Eijirou decides to strike up a conversation with him.

punks not dead by wrunic

“So you want to use me to piss off your mom?” Kirishima summarized, raising one pierced eyebrow at Katsuki.

“Look, if you want to be all fucking judgy about it, I take cash,” Katsuki said, dropping his hand palm up on the table.

“Hey now,” Kirishima said, raising his hands in surrender, “I didn’t say I wasn’t doing it. I’m always down for a little chaos.” He flashed a grin, showing off his ridiculous shark teeth.

“Good,” Katsuki said. “We start tomorrow."

sent, delivered, read, loved by kiribakuhappiness

Kirishima E. [6.49pm]: ur okay for such an angry dude bakugou! :)

Bakugou K. [7.12pm]: FUCK YOU!

Kirishima E. [7.14pm]: haha! :D ttyl!

Bakugou K. [7.48pm]: FUCKING WHAT DO THOSE DUMB LETTERS MEAN???

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: I JUST LOOKED IT UP DONT FUCKING TALK TO ME LATER!

Bakugou K. [7.52pm]: STOP TXTING ME!!!

- OR -

Bakugou's and Kirishima's relationship develops from classmates to friends to more, as told through their text conversations.

flicker by mr_todoroki

He was starting to feel depressed. Life was so uninteresting. It was so mundane and forgettable. He had no one to hang out with besides Kota, his family didn’t even live in the city.

He grew his hair out as some sort of rebellion, some sort of stand to make his life the slightest bit more interesting. But he could already feel himself giving in to the pressure of cutting it. He needed to work to live. Without a job, he’d truly have nothing.

OR

Kirishima never applied to UA, therefore never became a hero.

let’s get down to business by kjelfalconer

Katsuki Bakugou, one of the brightest rising stars on wall street, is in need of a new personal assistant. Again. Could Eijirou Kirishima finally be the one to last more than two months?

Katsuki's long suffering HR department sure hope so.

something about us by bigstupidjellyfish

nothing like being in highschool and having no idea how to deal with emotions

fireproof by inkbender

Four years after a classmate nobody seems to remember is kidnapped by the League of Villains, Kirishima drags an amnesiac hobo he found washed up on the beach into his apartment, attempts to teach him how to adult (with varying degrees of success), and discovers along the way that the line between heroism and villainy is quite fine indeed. Plot-divergent after episode 45, the Forest Training Camp arc.

blood riot by magicallee (alternatively)

Kirishima from a universe with no quirks is mind-swapped with an alternate universe version of himself where there are superpowers.

And in that universe he’s a super villain.

And Bakugou is the superhero who caught Evil-Kirishima and put him in prison.

blindside by drowclericpelor

“You’re the first guy friend I’ve had that I can just like, be friends with. You’re either the most unthirstiest boy ever...” Camie shrugged and made another wobbly illusion appear between her hands. It looked like a sparkly rainbow with the word ‘friendship’ beneath it, accompanied by what Bakugou assumed was supposed to be a twinkling sound effect, but it had a tinny quality to it and sounded far away. “...or I just ain’t got the kinda straw you like to ssssip.”

Carefully, Bakugou considered the strange turn this conversation had taken.

He had never been asked, point blank, if he was gay before. And he honestly had never thought about how he would respond. Lying about himself didn’t sit right with him. But he’d always wanted to wait until he was the number one hero - when he stood above everyone else - before coming out. Though he’d had times when he’d thought about doing it before then and had almost gone through with it once. But being the number one hero came first. It wouldn’t matter what people would say about it then as long as he’d risen to the top.

Bakugou knew his lack of a response would give Camie all the answers she needed.

flour power by wingsonghalo

“I’m telling you now, Shitty Hair,” the blonde growled, “I am not gonna play house with you. We will cart this stupid flour around for a week like the assignment says. But some of our idiot classmates are naming the thing and setting up ‘playdates’ and dressing it and I am not doing anything that stupid. Got it?”

Kirishima and Bakugou are paired up to take care of a flour sack for a week. It would be so simple, except nothing with Bakugou is ever simple. Also Kirishima might be kinda sorta completely head over heels for him.

sunchaser by chonideno

that feeling when you suddenly want to jump off a cliff for no reason but instead of a cliff it’s your best friend and instead of jumping it’s growing feelings out of nowhere

or how Bakugou has to try really hard not to throw everything to the wind, and Kirishima doesn't help

i also have a tag specifically for fics that reach somewhere between 30k-70k words long if you wanted to check that out as well! i hope you enjoy the fics here and that i was able to help, ily enjoy your trip!!! :D 

[samingtonwilson]

Mac and Cheese

Summary: Bucky takes the last box of frozen mac and cheese, takes your phone, and makes you fall in love with him. The audacity of that man.

Prompt: “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” 

Pairing: bucky x reader

a/n: i wrote this and was fully done formatting it and everything, like, 6 months ago. i didn’t post it because it’s approx. 82% nonsense but i figured why not post it now when it’s still 82% nonsense but im struggling to finish everything else. so taal, long time vegan, writes a story about mac and cheese and, listen, idk what this fic is either. can i write a fic without adding sam to it? no.

Mac and cheese. That’s all you want. Disgusting, frozen, usually-quite-mushy-if-not-microwaved-correctly mac and fucking cheese. 

The kind with the layer of cheese on top. The kind with that real elbow pasta, not rotini or penne or seashell pasta— real macaroni. The kind you try to only eat one serving size of before you eat everything in the package. The kind you always gravitate to when your eyes are stained red, swollen, and too proud to be anything other than dry.

You take the subway. You switch lines. You endure the smell of the F train during rush hour when you aren’t sure where your thigh ends and the thigh of the woman sitting beside you begins. All for that one Trader Joe’s, out of many, in Brooklyn the hipsters abandon before six because the coffee shop next door closes at five.

Your feet ache in your boots and you’re pretty sure a rock has somehow lodged itself between your toes, it’s starting to rain and you have no umbrella, you don’t think your throat has ever felt so parched. 

But you tuck your phone into your back pocket and march into that store with the hideous overhead lighting that makes your skin look like it hasn’t seen a bottle of toner in days like you’re Hades, the box of mac and cheese is Persephone, and Trader Joe’s is Mount Olympus.

You aren’t planning on smiling at anyone in greeting. You aren’t planning on making eye contact with anyone. You aren’t even planning on waiting politely behind whoever is inevitably idly standing in front of the pasta section of the frozen aisle— you’re going to say, “Excuse me.” Like the badass, New Yorker, on-the-verge-of-tears bitch you are and you’re going to toss that mac and cheese into your basket like you’re Steph Curry at the NBA Finals.

Lines are long when you walk in, cashiers bored-looking and tired. The produce section is a jungle of stay at home fathers and people who make their own pressed juice, the salad display a mess of college students trying to eat healthy. 

Your eyes accidentally meet those of a toddler who is slyly plucking a grape from a bag he had no intention of spending his allowance on and you smile.

You hold your basket like a designer handbag and dilly-dally only for a moment to pick up some yogurt for breakfast tomorrow. 

And some inauthentic babka because there’s no way in hell you’re going to endure Zabar’s after this. 

And a package of olive oil popcorn, a bottle of three dollar chardonnay, and string cheese. 

But that’s it. Self-control.

You feel the chill of the frozen aisle before you step into it. You feel the magnetic pull of that box with only one step in its direction. You stop for just a second to grab the mini mango and cream pops.

You almost roll your eyes to yourself when you see that someone is indeed standing right in front of the frozen selection of pasta. He’s staring at two boxes— a red one in his gloved left hand and the one in his right hand green.

As you grow closer you notice behind his curtain of dark hair that his eyebrows are knit together and he’s frowning at a decision he must be forcing himself to make. 

Sophie’s Choice, but involving mediocre excuses for Italian food and no Nazis— hopefully. Because who really knows these days?

He wears a forest green hoodie under a black leather jacket, black jeans tight around thick thighs. Boots, too. You think you might swoon.

And you wait behind him. You tap your foot, shift your weight, and chew on your bottom lip. You don’t say anything.

He looks over his shoulder when you curse under your breath and set the heavy basket at your feet. He’s apologetic— and handsome— by the looks of it, blue eyes slightly widened and lips downturned. “Shit,” he says as he takes a few steps to the right. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You kick your basket with the toe of your boot until it lightly smacks against the bottom of the freezer. “No problem. It’s a big decision.”

His eyes lift from the boxes and he smiles. “Biggest one I’ve gotten to make in a while.”

Setting your hands atop the cold metal railing, you stare down into the freezer. You see farfalle with roasted tomatoes, rigatoni with pesto, ricotta and spinach ravioli, roasted vegetable lasagna, cauliflower gnocchi, chicken parm, and… an empty space. 

You tilt your head.

You lean away and crouch to read the description cards, looking for the bubble letters to tell you where on Earth your saving grace is. When you spot the card, you stand again. The indicated space is empty, your heart is empty, your will to live is—

A box of organic pesto tortellini is tossed back into the freezer and you look up. Your eyes might lose their prideful dryness at any moment, even in public next to that handsome stranger with the nice jacket and,

the box of mac and cheese.

You gasp audibly and leap backwards. You point at the box in his left hand.

With an expression of panic, he holds his hands— and the box— up in innocence. “It’s okay. I’m not—”

“What the fuck is that?” you shout to gain the attention of customers you don’t even perceive, waggling your finger at the box. Your wide-eyed stare, and bared teeth, and messy hair must be terrifying. You hope they are.

He looks down at his hand. An eyebrow lifts. And, confusedly, he asks, “The box?”

“Yes, the fucking box!”

“It’s mac and—” he meets your gaze again. You’re wearing your anger like armor. But you aren’t scared. Bucky thinks he might never have felt such relief at a woman’s anger. “It’s mac and cheese.”

You shake your head. Wildly. Your neck hurts. “It’s the last box of mac and cheese!”

He glances at the box, then back at you. He jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “They might have some in the back—”

You shake your head again. A hint of devastation cracks your voice as you say, “It’s Monday night. Trader Joe’s restocks Tuesday night. This is usually all they have left.”

“I—” He pauses. “Is this shit really that good—”

“No, it’s not but that’s not the point!” you’re shouting again. And crying. Oh, God, you’re crying. In public. “The point is my building is going co-op!”

He tilts his head. “Your building is—”

“And I have to buy my apartment if I want to keep it! And they don’t give raises at my job to women unless they’re willing to suck something I won’t say in front of that kid right there,” you nod toward a little girl in a pink raincoat with her pin straight black hair in pigtails who stares at you in bewilderment. You sniffle. “So I quit. And I’m proud of myself for it. Because I have integrity, and I have self-respect, and I have no gag reflex, so the rejection should kill my boss dead.”

He cracks a small smile when you let out a short, watery, pathetic laugh. Easily, he holds the box out to you. “I hope your boss is dead, too.”

You laugh again and don’t hesitate before taking the box. You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve. “Thank you. You’re nice.”

“Not a popular opinion, but one I’ll certainly take.” He’s smiling and it’s warm. “Sorry— about all that.”

“You’re apologizing to me? I just screamed at you in the Trader Joe’s freezer aisle over mac and cheese.”

He shakes his head and picks up his own basket when you grab yours. “Your building’s going co-op and your boss deserves to burn in hell. You should get all the mac and cheese you want.”

You reach into the freezer for that green box of tortellini he’d thrown in, tossing it into his basket with a smile. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “Still. I’m sorry for yelling and I hope the tortellini doesn’t suck too bad.”

“It’s frozen pasta. My expectations are low.”

You hum a laugh and walk past him to the crowded lines at the registers. “As they should be.”

It’s when you’re lost in the sea of customers and Bucky is deciding between frozen palak paneer and frozen lamb vindaloo with basmati rice that he feels a tug at the hem of his jacket. 

He looks away from the green and orange boxes, lowering his gaze to meet curious almond-shaped eyes beneath blunt black bangs. He smiles and she returns it. “Yes?”

She reveals her right hand, which she had hidden behind her pink raincoat, and holds a phone up to Bucky as far as her arm will let her.

“Is that your phone?”

She shakes her head and giggles. Loud, happy, and squeaky. “Yelling lady dropped her phone.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knit together until a woman, much closer to his height, steps behind the little girl. She takes the phone the girl holds out and offers it to Bucky when he straightens his posture. Her smile looks like the little girl’s. “We figured you would have a good chance at getting it back to her.”

He takes the phone and nods his thanks. Pressing the power button reveals a picture of you and a dog, a large, fluffy dog with its pink tongue hanging low. You’re smiling brightly and, oddly, it seems like the dog is, too.

—

“So you just took her phone? Didn’t even ask an employee to keep it there in case she came back for it?”

Bucky, watching the tray of pasta rotate in the microwave, scowls. “I would’ve if I’d known that was an option. And stop eating my fuckin’ chips.”

Sam tosses back another handful of kettle-cooked barbecue potato chips in defiance so the obnoxious crunching echoes through the kitchen. He smiles sarcastically when Bucky snatches the bag and rolls it up. Half is already gone. “You come up with how you’re gonna get it back to her?”

“Thinkin’ about asking Pepper to post a picture of it like it’s a missing child to that ‘Tweeter’ nonsense,” Bucky replies dryly. He’s glaring at Sam as he leans his hip against the counter. “You and I both know I haven’t come up with shit.”

Sam snorts and is smiling in amusement, deep brown eyes alight. Bucky hates the sight. “Tweeter. You’re so fuckin’ old.”

It’s been hours since Bucky took the phone from who he learned is little Vivienne and her mother, and he is no closer to getting it back to you. 

He’d tried looking for you at the store but there were too many people for a Trader Joe’s that Yelp claimed was the least busy in New York for that to yield results. So he returned to the Tower. He thought about asking Tony to look into the doohickey but figured an invasion of privacy should be the last resort.

He pulls the tray from the microwave with nimble vibranium fingers and sniffs the pasta before setting it down on the counter. He removes a bowl from one of the cabinets and dumps the steaming pasta in it, a sprinkle of freshly grated parmesan from a tub he’d bought— also at Trader Joe’s— a finishing touch.

“She’s cute,” Sam says when the screen lights up with an incoming text notification.

Bucky spins his fork between his fingers as he walks around the counter to sit on the barstool beside Sam’s. He glances at the phone as well. “Very cute,” he agrees. “She had a shitty day. Something about her apartment goin’ co-op. Whatever the hell that means.”

Sam frowns. “Means she’s gotta buy the place. And with New York real estate prices right now,” he shakes his head with a sigh. “She better have a well-paying job.”

“Quit that today, too.” Bucky takes a bite of the pasta and hisses as it burns his tongue. “Boss is a creep that asked for some action in exchange for a raise.”

“Jesus. Poor girl.”

The tortellini isn’t great. It’s a little bland, a bit too dry, and there isn’t enough filling— but it’s better than Bucky had expected. He takes another bite. “Yeah. And I took the last box of mac and cheese. Which is what she went to the store for.”

“I’m surprised your head wasn’t chopped off.”

Bucky smiles. “She yelled— a lot. Was crying, too, ‘til she said something and made herself laugh.”

Sam then begins teasing Bucky juvenilely for having a crush until both men are laughing and shoving one another to see who falls off their stool first, Sam only relenting when Bucky hands the potato chips to him again as a peace offering.

The bowl is in the sink and the chips are down to just crumbs when a loud ringtone— an instrumental version of an R&B song Bucky recognizes from Sam’s many plays of the original— shocks the two of them.

It’s from an unknown number and Bucky is unsure if he should pick up until Sam swipes answer and puts the call on speakerphone. “Hello?”

A sigh. Bucky doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or frustration. “I’m hoping whoever this is found my phone and didn’t steal it.”  

Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder with a toothy grin and Bucky rolls his eyes. “The little girl you almost traumatized in the freezer aisle found it and gave it to me.”

Another sigh— the relief in this one is obvious— and you’re laughing. “It’s you— tortellini dude. Must’ve fallen when I crouched down.”

“Seems like it, yeah.”

“So are you gonna ask for my address or do I have to schlep over to Avengers Tower?”

Bucky and Sam exchange a look. “Avengers Tower?”

“You weren’t exactly in disguise— I realized who you are the minute I left the store. Would’ve recognized you right away but I was in my own head and you aren’t my favorite Avenger.”

Bucky smiles. “Yeah? And who is?”

“Falcon.”

Immediately, the phone is taken from Bucky’s hand. “Hi, baby, you’ve got Falcon.”

A gasp, a pause, then you laugh. Audibly stunned laughter. “You guys actually hang out with each other? That’s cute.”

Before Sam can reply, Bucky flicks his forehead— in reply to which Sam elbows Bucky’s ribs— and takes the phone back. “I can bring your phone to you whenever you’re free.”

“Awesome. I’m unemployed now so any time tomorrow is fine.”

You tell him your address before hanging up and he wishes you a good night. Your laughter is the last thing he hears before three beeps signify the end of the call.

—

Bucky takes the subway. He switches lines to the F train. He tries not to mind the overpowering smell of stale B.O. and deli meat leftover from rush hour, the skittering steps of a rat across the floor in the adjacent empty car. He ignores those who stare at him intensely enough to burn the fabric right off his skin. All for that one apartment in SoHo.

He thinks the gash below his ribs might still be leaking as the warm, moist subway station air blows past him. He can feel that cluster of bruises above his knee— the one from the pipe the hostile operative had ripped off the rickety walls of a nearly destroyed Hydra base— every time he takes a step, more so as he climbs the stairs.

He knows he must be quite a sight with combat boots and tac pants worn and dusty, a simple bomber jacket thrown over a ripped, sliced, stained compression tank. His mind is blank, his eyes shadowy, the ghost of something terrible lurking behind blue and grey. 

Posture stiff and muscles cold, steps crisp despite the ache, he follows the familiar path and manages to form the thought of turning around. Not bringing this all to a threshold— or, more accurately, a windowsill— he’s only crossed three or four times. He’s too weak, though.

It takes one rap of his knuckles against the third-story window for a lamp to flicker on, gauzy drapes pushed aside. You smile as he lifts the window open, stepping aside as he enters the apartment with careful grace. He feels less guilty when he sees that your bed is still made and your hair isn’t the tangled mess it usually is when he bursts in at a late hour.

“I have a door.”

“Okay, show-off.”

It’s when he steps into the light of the standing lamp in the room’s corner that your quiet laughter gives way to a soft gasp. 

He doesn’t like the widening of your eyes or the way you gently lift the right side of his jacket, fingers light against the torn fabric. But you laugh again, and it shakes in nervousness. “You know I’m not a doctor, right? Or a nurse? Or even a pharmacist with high self-efficacy?”

He nods and, despite himself, there’s a smile pulling at a corner of his lips. His eyes brighten a little. “It’ll heal itself.”

“Confidence. I like that in a burglar.”

Before he can take a step further into your bedroom, you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and point at his feet. “Boots.”

He kicks them off with a sigh and a groan when the shifting of his knee sends a tremor up his leg. His jacket is tossed aside as well, and he catches the black t-shirt you throw to him. You’d washed it, folded it, and put it in your closet. 

Just a little more brightness. “You owe me mac and cheese.”

“Oh, I owe you mac and cheese? We’re really holding onto shit from four months ago?”

He nods again and pulls his tank off, withholding a wince.

Eyebrow raised, you cross your arms over your chest. You’re giving him a narrow look but, because you’re clearly struggling against a smile, it’s one of his favorites of the expressions you’ve ever offered him. 

You give him a towel next— pastel blue. “Shower and then we’ll see about me owing you something.”

He wants to say thank you, do more than smile. 

But he knows if he so much as opens his mouth while you’re looking at him the way you are, he’ll tell you he’s fallen in love with you over the last four months, that maybe he’s been in love since you screamed at him in the freezer section of Trade Joe’s. 

He’ll go to say thank you, but the words of a Byron poem he’d learned to impress a girl in his English class more than eighty years ago will come pouring out or he’ll simply kiss you like he wishes he could on the nights he can’t sleep or during the missions he can just barely endure. 

He’ll go to say thank you, and then tell you with no clarity whatsoever that you’re what he finds comfort in when he’s had a hard day. That the disgusting, mushy, nothing-compared-to-fresh mac and cheese is just an excuse.

But he just smiles. And nods. And takes a shower.

His hair is still wet as he stands across from you at the kitchen counter. There’s a bowl of steaming pasta between you, a spoon in his hand and a fork in yours. “You’re dripping onto the counter.”

With a cocking of his eyebrow, he shakes his head and you sputter a laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Bucky!”

He laughs then, fully and happily, as he reaches over to wipe the drops from your cheeks and forehead. You only smile back, the gleaming of your eyes making him feel warm all over.

“This shit’s terrible, by the way,” he says after a minute of staring.

You shrug a shoulder. “Told you.”

“And you fought me for it. Publicly.”

You shrug again and laugh. You lean your elbows atop the counter to match his relaxed posture, dragging a noodle through a particularly large puddle of melted cheese. 

Looking up, your nose nearly bumps Bucky’s and you hope he doesn’t hear your breath stall. You try to smile. “Makes me feel better when I need to fill that hole in my heart.”

“With cholesterol?” he jokes.

“Yes. It’s excellent. It’s like spackle.” As he laughs and you roll your eyes, you push off the counter to stand straight. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah?”

You hum. “I’m seeing an apartment I want tomorrow and need the rent lowered. And you’re the Winter Soldier.”

He considers that for a moment and you burst into laughter just as his eyes narrow into a fond glare. “You want me to scare them into lowering the rent?”

“Don’t think of it as you scaring them,” you begin, rounding the counter to stand next to him, hip leant against the marble, “think of it as you being an amazing friend and helping me.” A moment later you add, “By scaring them.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. He glances at the bowl to avoid the risk of staring at you for too long. “Fine.”

You grin. “You really take no convincing.”

A snort and he meets your gaze. “Only when it comes to you. I’m afraid you’ll start crying again.”

“So I could ask you for anything and you’d probably say yes?”

He shrugs a bit, then nods. Who is he kidding? You could ask for his right arm and he’d give it to you.

“Okay. Go on a date with me then.”

There’s a pause— in the conversation, in his chest. “A what?”

“A date. It’s like dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or something.” You grin when he takes half a step in your direction and his hands grip onto the counter at either side of you. “It’s this thing people do when they like each other.”

Something much more than like is in the sparkling of your eyes and the tilt of your head. Something that might match exactly what’s in his eyes whenever he’s around you. His insides burn at the thought.

“I know what a date is.”

“They had those back in your day?”

He nods and leans forward. “Not from the Stone Ages.”

Your lips brush lightly against his, hand set on his chest to feel the rapid beating beneath. You smile and he thinks he might melt. “Could’ve fooled me with that hair.”

Laughing, he presses his lips to yours a little harder.

—

Apartment littered with unpacked boxes, misplaced books, and askew furniture, you sit on top of the counter where Bucky works. He’s twirling a knife through his metal fingers, arranging sprigs of chives on the cutting board with the flesh ones. 

He smiles when he catches you staring at the pan cooling on the stove. “S’not done yet.”

You sigh. Loudly, heavily. “You took it out of the oven. That means it’s done.”

“It needs to cool for a few minutes or you’ll burn off your taste buds. You want to burn off your taste buds?”

“You want to burn off your taste buds?” you repeat in a high-pitched, taunting voice. You’re scowling and, somehow, look to be on the verge of snatching the knife from him to stab it through his chest. “Maybe I do.”

Less than a minute later, you groan and add, “I don’t care how good you are in bed. I’m about ten seconds from dumping you.”

Swiftly, he chops the chives and turns around to sprinkle a bit into the baking dish. “You know, most people would say thank you.”

“Most people don’t have to wait an hour while their boyfriend attempts to make mac and cheese when there’s a perfectly good box in the freezer that would take four minutes.”

“It’s worth it.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t know if it’s worth it. 

He’d asked Sam for a recipe and did his best to follow it despite the autocorrect which had changed “gruyere” to “grape year.” But he trusts it since Sam generally knows what he’s doing in the kitchen. Unlike Steve who had continuously attempted to chime in with useless suggestions such as, “Maybe don’t add the paprika.”

“Just trust me,” he urges as if replying to the growling of your stomach which has interrupted his search for the plates he could’ve sworn he’d unpacked. He’s crouched and searching the lower cabinets as he adds, “You’ll fall in love with me after you try it.” 

“Who says I haven’t already?” 

He stops searching.

He peeks his head above the edge of the counter and, his eyes wide, he sees you pulling two plates from a box placed on the small nook table. Your smile is small and a bit sheepish— the latter something he’d never seen from you. 

“You never took them out,” you tell him, the clatter of ceramic on the wooden surface loud when you set the plates down. As you approach and he stands to his full height, you sigh and roll your eyes at the look he gives you. “Yes, I love you. It can’t be that shocking.”

“It isn’t.” 

“Someone should tell your face that.”

Chuckling over the heavy thumps in his chest, he leans forward to kiss you but pauses just to say, “I love you, too, by the way.” 

When an empty dish sits between the two of you, Bucky’s stomach warm and full of over three-quarters of it, you stand from the table and walk to the freezer. 

Shooting a smile over your shoulder, you grab the familiar red box and toss it into the stainless steel trash can. Steph Curry at the NBA Finals. “I’m never eating that shit again.”

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO Sketchy friends, followers, and fans! It's that time again, time for...

SHIPPY SATURDAY!

The heck is happening here? Here's an FAQ~ Wanna support the event? Here's my Ko-fi!

That's right, it's FINALLY the last Saturday of the month... and I've decided it's high time our Quotable prompt evolved into a Dialog prompt! This is gonna work a lot like previous Quote prompts, but with an extra twist, so please make sure you read the guidelines for a valid request before sending in!

ONWARDS!

To make a VALID Shippy Saturday request, please send me the following in an ASK to my ASKBOX:

The COUPLE you'd like me to sketch up ---- OC? Heck yes! Canon? Hell yeah! All characters welcome, so long as they're from Fallout ---- OC x OC? Cool! Canon x Canon? SWEET! OC x Canon? DAMN RIGHT.

The NUMBER of the dialog snippet you'd like me to art them saying ---- Got more than one favorite? You may list up to THREE in your ask, in order of preference, to help the artist avoid repeats <3 ---- Still can't pick? Send in 'Dealer's Choice!' and the artist will pick one for you.... oooor possibly make up some fresh dialog on the spot ;3

What KIND OF RELATIONSHIP your couple has with each other ---- Romantic? Platonic? Professional? Familial? Rivals? Neighbors? Despite it's name, Shippy Saturday is about all kinds of human connections, not just the romantic ones! ---- Is your couple part of a larger OT3 or poly group? Tell me who else is part of the relationship; they probably won't get arted, but they might add their two cents to the scene from off-frame XD

IF YOU'RE SENDING IN AN OC!! ---- Send your request ask FIRST, without reference information ---- THEN send your OC's reference information to me via my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have any reference pictures, but you can type of a written description? Great! I love working from written descriptions! :D [ No, really, I do. Give them to me :D ]

After that, you can leave all the rest to me! :D [ I.e Please do not request poses or specific actions ]

Hokay? HOKAY! With all of that out of the way, let's get onto the dialog snippets! These are taken from various things I enjoy, as well as some of my own work. These quotes have been modified to gender neutral pronouns, to remove most proper nouns, and for brevity.

[ Some of these quotes have multiple speakers! That will be shown like this! "Speaker A" -- "Speaker B" ]

"Yeah, well, I'm a victim of circumstance" -- "... I thought you called it your pecker."

"Here, you look cold."

"You are so lucky I love you." -- "Damn right."

"You know the routine." -- "Yeah! WE do all the work, YOU get all the credit!"

"I want you with me, but... I'm scared." -- "Trust me. Trust me to take care of myself." -- "I trust you, it's the rest of the world I'm terrified of!"

"No breakfast?" -- "I did it yesterday-- bologna and beans, it's your turn." -- "No... It was eggs. I did eggs... over easy." -- "The hell you did! Bologna and beans, it's your turn!"

"I like the kind of person who can handle themselves... think on their feet."

"So you were ahead of me." -- "I don't know about ahead, but I've been behind you ever since you fried those mannequins."

"Don't make me say it out loud..." -- "... I can say it first, if that'll help."

"Nooooooope... five more minutes." -- "We were together all night." -- "Didn't count... I was sleepin'."

"Well, this is very serious" -- "IT IS!" -- "You, you destroyed a door." -- "Colonel, we're talking about a test on an armored vehicle, that will carry people into combat." -- "Right, but this door is property of--" -- "The shell barely penetrated the door." -- "okay, but now it's all bent out of shape. How are you gonna get it back on its hinges?" -- "I'LL BUY THE ARMY A NEW GODDAMN DOOR!"

"Sorry, I thought... I thought you were trying to buy something I'm not selling."

"I'm busy." -- "Too busy to look up?"

"You can't kill people just because you don't agree with them." -- "You see, that was the ONE point me and the doctors could never agree upon."

"Would you ever consider having a drink with an enlisted solider?" -- "Depends... does the enlisted soldier think I need one?" -- "What are they gonna do? Kick you out?"

"Thanks" -- "No problem, anytime."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up-- one day it's gonna happen to you. Someday someone is gonna ask you, who is it? And a face is gonna jump to the front of your mind, and it's gonna completely sandbag you... I can't wait to watch!"

[to a peacefully sleeping person ] -- "Good moring, Mx. ___, this is your wake-up call. Please move your ass."

"I say we run for it" -- "Running isn't a plan, runnin's what you do when a plan fails!"

"... Normal Illinois, is that on the map?" -- "Yes, Sergeant, it is." -- "... is it normal in Normal?" -- "... Uneventful, I think, is the word."

"Now-- how many brahmin does it take to make a stampede? Is it like... three or more? Is there a minimum speed?" -- "Wish a stampede up your ass."

"I don't mind being a secret of yours."

[Right after THE BIG FUCKING KISS] ".... let's not make it a year before the next one, okay?"

"If we were serious about money, we'd quit being hired hands--" -- "Handymen! We are han-dee-men." -- "Oh whatever! We'd quit this and go find some real money."

"Please... don't go where I can't follow."

"Alone is fine! I can do alone, it's worrying after them that's got me all wound up!" -- "Have you considered that's because alone is NOT FINE and you don't wanna do it anymore?" -- "---!!"

"This is not the first time you've been here." -- "We've been down this road before, that is correct." -- "Several times, in fact." -- "I hadn't been keeping count."

"And you must be ___, I've heard all about you." -- "I deny everything."

"First time I saw you? I thought to myself, that's the kind of person BRICK WALLS jump outta the way of." -- "Figured you'd be safer behind me rather than in front of me?" -- "Damn right."

"Just keep looking at that beautiful sky; that's the sky that'll be over our roof when we're done." -- "What if we don't finish the roof? Then we can look at the sky all the time."

"Yeah, well... maybe a friend is what I need right now."

"Next thing you know the Feds will be at our door; Sorry, time to move out, Eminent Domain." -- "Down honey, down."

"Even a heat-seeking missile can miss a target." -- "... you taped so many hot-plates to the test target you could fry an egg at 20 feet, and it STILL missed by a mile."

"My dear, my darling, love of my life...." -- "What do you want?"

"What I mean to say is... you make here a better place to be. For me. Easier. Does that make sense?"

"Calm down, you make it sound like a war." -- "What do you people have against being prepared?!"

"This is not just a report, it's a deadly weapon." -- "Sir, an M-16 is a deadly weapon. A report is just a pile of paper, unless you plan to inflict a lot of extremely vicious paper cuts."

"Stupid son of a bitch, knocked himself out cold..." -- "Cold my ass, he's dead."

"Y'know, in baseball, a guy who hits .400 is consider pretty damn great." -- "In baseball the losing team isn't killed by their opponents."

"Hey... I love you. Did I tell you that today?"

This post is going online at 8 PM, June 24th, 2021, US Pacific time. The askbox will open for requests until 6 PM, June 25th, 2021, US Pacific Time. Get yours in now!

Arting will begin at 9 AM tomorrow morning, see you then! :D

-Loor

[settersloveletters]

NO. 1 FAN

• part sixteen; just endurance training

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⤷ y/n will always go out of her way for her family, especially for her 7 year old niece, who happens to be kageyama tobio’s number one fan. what happens when the charming sweetheart, y/n, meets the emotionally null, kageyama tobio? and what happens when those two fall in love at first sight?

a/n: its here.. ENDING is ambiguous. ill leave it up to those big imaginations yall have 🧠 hahaha. IDK IF THIS IS TOO OOC. whatever ill justify it by saying “adult kags is mature and horny and knows what hes dooing hahsjej. also likes to dirty talk im sure of it 🤗🤩😋

[!] under is written smut which is not important to the story, sorta, kinda [!]

➳ word count: 1.5k

➳ warnings: smut, but nothing too crazy; hand job, praise kink (kageyama recieving), cum eating?! is there a proper word for that lool

Wow, he’s really hot. Not that that’s new news, but here he is, in your small living room, freshly showered with damp hair in the comfiest loungewear. After all the commotion -- trying to fix the car only to decide on letting him sleepover, setting up a comfortable sleeping place for him, and of course, not trying to embarrass yourself on countless occasions -- you two now rest.

“Hey, wanna watch something?” you suggest as the two of you sit on the couch, a TV perched on the cabinet across from you. Even though you two sit at least three feet apart, you feel his body heat emanating and he hears your heart beating a mile a minute. It’s weird, you two are usually so normal and casual, able to converse and talk, but why is it so different right now.

“Sure, you can choose.”

“Romcom? Oh, or maybe this documentary. Wait no, I actually like this movie,” indecisively you scroll through the library of movies. “That one,” Kageyama says in such an alluring tone that has your finger slipping, the chosen movie is now beginning.

Minutes in, it might be your mind playing games, but the distance between you has become smaller and smaller, and before you know it your hips are touching. You feel every rise of his chest when he breathes and he feels every time you jump or squirm against him. And to be honest, the movie is getting deathly boring when your eyes would much rather feast upon the man beside you, his toned arms and big hands. You’re almost so tempted to touch them, compare them to your own, interlock both your fingers.

“Are you even watching the movie?” Kageyama scoffs, and when you get a better look at his face, you see the small rosy tinge that covers his cheeks. “Yes, I am. Are you?” leaning into him even further, your body acts before your mind can think. You give him a peck on his cheek. It’s not like you two have never kissed before, but this feels new, fresh, exhilarating.

“I am, for your information. Unlike you, staring at me like you’re the predator and I’m the prey,” he looks you dead in the eyes, deep blue engulfing you. He’s letting you know the nature of the relationship; he is no prey.

Gently grabbing the back of your neck, Kageyama pulls you into a kiss, lips touching and sending pleasurable jolts across your body. The distant movie playing has drowned out in the background as your heavy breathing and heartbeats fill the room. You even let out the tiniest of whimpers that shoot straight down to his cock. His other hand begins to wander, until it settles around the small of your waist, pulling you up onto his lap.

You two spend an eternity, his touch constantly rubbing along your body, your fingers twirling around his hair, and your lips and tongues dancing with each other. With your legs straddling his, you don’t shy away from giving an experimental grind against his clothed erection.

“Hm,” his moan is muffled in your interlocked lips. You pull off, looking him in his eyes, all clouded and gasping for air. There’s something tantalizing about the thought of being the one to seduce Japan’s top young athlete. Seeing the young star in front of you, lips red and swollen from all the kissing and almost begging to be touched. It has you quivering at the knees. This is Kageyama Tobio..

“Ha, I didn’t think you’d.. Baby, let’s take it slow, yeah?” you tell him, slipping the cute pet name in which has him pulling you in closer to him.

“Of course. To be honest, I don’t know how much of you I can handle at once,” he looks down at you, jabbing at your usual boldness and forwardness. You can tell he’s nervous. “I should be saying that to you,” you sigh, hands grabbing onto the formed tent in his sweatpants that has you too excited. He’s big.

“So, why don’t we just touch today,” you give him a reassuring smile, giving his cock another squeeze that has him moaning aloud again. Kageyama just simply looks at you and gives a nod in response. He’s embarrassed at his own voice, but to you, it sounds like heaven. You don’t hesitate in lowering the waistband of his pants and boxers, letting the heat of his cock expose itself. Looking at it has you biting your lower lip and shifting in his lap. You wrap your hands around his girth, feeling heavy in your hands as the thick veins tickle the pads of your fingers. You stroke his shaft, listening to the way he audibly gasps and groans under your ministrations. Your fingertip rubs along the head, picking up the drop of precum, allowing you to give him a more satisfying jerk.

“Do that, that felt good,” he breaths out. You pick up the repetitive motions as you feel the surface of his cock heating up, and the unsuppressed sounds spilling from his mouth. The sweet clicks of your strokes has you desperate for more, desperate to pleasure him more. Boldly, you spit onto the head of cock, slicking him up and quickening the pace. Kageyama lets out a needy noise that has your insides trembling and panties uncomfortably wet.

He likes the attention, you know it. He loves being able to openly receive this love from you, no matter how foreign or new it is to him. This thrill Kageyama feels has him aching for more. His hands grasp onto the legs that sit on his lap, squeezing the soft exposed flesh of your skin. His mind goes wild imagining what lies beneath those tight shorts you purposely wore to seduce him, what you’d look like all exposed just for him. He’s not usually this dirty minded, but you’ve always managed to pull out the craziest things from him.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” you ask with your innocent and calming voice, totally contrasting the lewd hands that continue to rub at his cock.

“I’m thinking about a lot of things..”

“Like what my panties look like?”

You will be the death of him, he swears. Before he can even respond or react, you’re already removing your shorts, showing him the delicate black fabric underneath that leaves oh so little to the imagination. Kageyama is brazen and confident on the court, but in the intimacy of right now, you have to be in control of the game. Straddling him again, you continue where you left off, bringing him closer to his release with your hand, kissing along his jaw and neck. “I won’t leave marks, don’t worry.”

“I don’t mind,” he manages to say through his pants. Without hesitation, you leave the tiniest mark on the side of his neck. The thought of tainting his perfect skin has you moaning against him, only egging him further to completion. His cock twitches in your hands, which has you stroking him faster.

“C’mon baby, you can cum anytime. You’ve been so good to me,” praising him, Kageyama looks directly into your eyes, face gone red, eyes hooded with uncontrollable lust as he groans aloud at your words. He likes it. “You’re so hot, baby. Cock’s so hard just for me,” his breathing gets heavier. “Gonna cum soon? Do it. Be good and cum all o-” He suddenly grabs both your wrists in his hand, stopping you from doing or saying anything else.

“Get on your fucking knees.”

You weren’t expecting that at all, which has you smirking and doing exactly what he says. Getting off his lap, you settle on the ground in front of him. You watch Kageyama intently as he stands right in front of you, cock in his dominant hand. He rubs himself, shallow jerks near the head of his big cock, with his other hand resting itself at the back of your head.

“I’m about to.. Can I?” his gasps get louder as he reaches the brink of climax. You stick your tongue out, a nice distance away from him, willing to accept all the love he has to offer. You admire the way his cock stills, and with a moan that has you throbbing, spurts of his cum land in your mouth. White ropes paint your tongue and face as Kageyama looks down at you, gasping for breath. You swallow his seed, all while never breaking your eye contact.

The movie has been long done, leaving you two alone in the now quiet room. Your thighs rub together, still in need for his touch even though he looks utterly exhausted. “You wanna sleep now, baby?” you simply say as he pulls his pants up, adjusting his now softening cock. Kageyama grabs a small cloth from his bag and begins wiping your face clean.

“No,” he discards the cloth and picks you up bridal style, walking you two to your bedroom. “It’s not that late. And, I still think I have a lot to learn..”

“Don’t you have practice tomorrow morning?”

“This is just endurance training.”

- TAGLIST -

@anhphunnnn | @adamarvv | @asahiswaifu | @fangirling-25-8 | @kei-kui | @lilacshouko | @smol-enbybackup | @gyubit17 | @renee1414 | @denkiwenki | @xanaxdeity | @cuddlesslut | @nikkipea | @lovemesomehwa | @muiyuuuu | @oikawalmart-hq | @mirdy47707 | @lumiriai | @notamazinglizzy | @starwrite-er | @dearkags | @hamsterfan17 | @sugawsites | @anime-simp | @singleandlonely | @levisackerwoman | @cactuski6 | @kingkagss | @gentlechainsaws | @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that | @prettymuchboo | @highlyanxiousintroverted | @anna-pcy21 | @sweetlysugawara | @yqshirov | @kingkags | @marifujioka | @luna-barnes14 | @musekala | @thechaosoflonging | @oikawasphlatass | @tremendousglitterthing | @kathya420 | @daninaninani | @maii-flowers | @akakuzumo | @tycrackculture | @gaychemicalwater | @mariachiii | @kiyoomile | @jaxneedshelp | @xs-hoodie | @preparingtofall |

(taglist continues in the replies!!)