#n i need to see your key to see what brand of lock it is and i was like. UM. no?? Who Even are you again?????

[swampghouls]

also had the weirdest experience at work today.

[cornsoupflavour]

Sorry, I Found Better (Twice NSFW Smut)

[ New Collaboration Pt. 2 – See Pt. 1 ]

⚠️18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI⚠️

TWICE Mina Myoi x Manager!Male Reader

Tags: 3.5k words, semi-cheating, multiple creampies, sweat, sharing, manager x idol, romance, wholesome, possible breeding/impreg, body praise

Months after her encounter with the new idol, Mina realised that she wanted more. Not more of him, but more of that feeling he gave. After some reflection, she realised he didn’t satisfy her as much as she wanted him to. Even the collaboration faded into the back of both their minds. After the two drifted apart despite the hope he had for the both of them to continue to see each other, Mina was left feeling rather empty – both physically and figuratively.

The feeling became worse after the whole incident with you and Momo. That whole ordeal made her feel some type of way, like that was what she wanted. She wasn’t sure if it was you, Momo or the both of you, she wanted to get a taste of whatever you two had. But alas, with the fact you and Momo were dating now, it felt as if that were to never come true.

It’d been a while since she treated herself to some retail therapy, and thought that might be what she needed at the time. She grabbed her things, put on a really spicy outfit, and headed out.

She walked around the mall, checking out branded bags and jewelry when she heard a familiar voice call out to her.

"Mina?"

Mina turned around to be greeted with Momo’s bright smile and tantalisingly curvy body. Mina’s smile widened even further as she saw you approaching from behind Momo.

"Momo!"

The two girls leaped into each other’s embrace excitedly. It’s been a week or so since they last saw each other in person but it seemed as though that was long enough. The girls chatted for a bit, giggling and gossiping. You couldn’t help but notice Mina, sneaking in glances at you, once in a while.

You flashed a warm smile each time you felt her gaze on you. You might be with Momo, but you couldn’t deny the allure Mina had on you.

"Anyway, I’ve gotta be somewhere now, you two have fun, alright~?" Mina chimed as she pulled Momo in for a really tight hug. "Mr. Manager, huh? Good job, Momo... Say, you up to share?"

"With you Mina? Of course~ TWICE’s J–Line has to stick together right?"

Wow, she thought Momo would be more possessive... Maybe this could be the start of something new and special.

"Mhm~"

"But I mean, I won’t say no if the other girls ask to share him either... As long as I remain his favourite~"

"Hehe~ Of course~"

Your eyes shifted around, unable to discern what the whispering was about. But as quickly they embraced, they pulled away. Mina gave Momo a fluttery wave before turning to you and winking.

As Mina left, Momo wrapped her arms around yours before continuing the errands you had to run.

Later on that night, as you had settled into a comfortable routine with Momo by your side, nestled in your bed. You were about to drift off to sleep when your phone buzzed. It was Mina.

"What? It’s like... 11PM..."

Momo turned over, her beautiful eyes locking with yours with a soft gaze.

"Who is it, baby? Is it Mina?"

"Yeah, how’d you know?"

Momo giggled, bringing her hand up to your cheek and caressing it gently.

"Us girls just know... But I encourage you to go, trust me."

A soft smile graced her lips as she leaned forward and planted a soft but longing kiss on yours. A few moments later, the both of you pulled away. You nodded reluctantly as you got out of bed, walking over to your closet to grab some new clothes.

"If she asks to head back to her place, do it. I’ll be fine tonight, baby. Don’t worry about me~"

You frowned a little, as you approached her side of the bed to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. "Are you two planning something?"

"Hmm... You’ll just have to find out~"

You shook your head amused before grabbing the keys and heading out. "Love you, Momo. If you need anything, just call, alright?"

Momo nodded, "Love you too, Y/N~ Bring my beloved Mr. Manager back in one piece, alright?"

"I will," you chuckled as you left your home and made your way to the meeting spot Mina had picked. Luna Cafe... 

Upon arriving, the lights around the cafe were dim. Not in a ‘scary, dangerous alleyway’ dim but more of a ‘romantic evening with your spouse’ type dim. You walked in, amazed that a cafe would still be open at this time of night. The lights within the cafe were the same romantic dim, a soft jazz tune playing in the background.

You scanned the patrons before spotting Mina, seated in a corner. Her eyes zeroed in on you the moment you walked in. When your gazes finally met, she waved you over. She wore a white turtleneck, a black coat and some tight black jeans.

You approached the table, a soft smile on your face as you took a seat. "So, Mina, you wanted to see me? What’s going on?"

"Mr. Manager... I have to come clean... Earlier this year, I met a new idol..."

Mina began to explain her situation and what she did. You sat there listening attentively. Once done, she sighed.

"But, I don’t know. Something felt missing between us. Or well, it felt as though HE was missing something..."

"What might that be?"

"I can’t exactly put my finger on it, but... when we caught you and Momo in the hotel room the other night... I realised that was what he was missing."

You blushed deeply. You and Momo had already slept and fucked well over three times now, but somehow, you still feel embarrassed and shy when someone brought it up. "W–What do you mean? What did you realise?"

Mina breathed a deep sigh before placing her hands onto yours, her thumbs tracing circles on the back of your hands. "I realised... he wasn’t you, Mr. Manager..."

"...I guess I’ll just come out and say it... Mr. Manager, I want you to fuck me the same way you did Momo."

Your eyes widened. Did she really just say that? "Mina... Y’know, I..."

"If this is about how Momo would react, don’t worry about it. I made sure to discuss this with her and Jihyo before this. Please, Mr. Manager... please show me that you love me as much as you love Momo and the others..."

You froze. This was... quite the temptation. You took a moment to yourself to think. As you looked into her eyes, her motherly yet youthful appearance, her gummy smile and her toned body... You couldn’t say no.

"Alright, Mina. I’ll do it. Is there anything else you’d want me to do before we go through with this? I take it you want to join my relationship with Momo."

Mina's eyes lit up with excitement, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Yes, please. Let's go to my place. It's not far." she said, standing up from the table.

"Like right now...?"

Mina nodded, a slight seductive glint in her eye. That’s when you remembered what Momo said and decided to go with it.

You followed her out of the cafe, the two of you strolling through the quiet streets. The night air was cool, the city lights casting a soft glow over the surrounding area. The both of you engaged in some small talk, discussing music, the latest gossip within the industry and what it’s like to be dating THE Momo Hirai.

"Y’know, you’re a lucky man. In–charge of a group of attractive girls, even dating one of them? I know people who would kill to be in your place..."

"Yeah, I really lucked out. Momo’s the best thing to have ever happened to me... besides becoming TWICE’s manager, of course."

The both of you chuckled as you felt her body leaning slightly onto yours. She wrapped her arms around one of yours as you walked. Initially, you felt a little put off, but you slowly warmed up to it. If Momo says it's alright, it's alright.

A few moments later, the two of you arrive at her apartment. Mina's apartment was cozy and filled with a sense of warmth. The smell of recently–baked cookies lingered throughout the space. There were posters of various artists adorning her walls, including TWICE and some of her solo endeavors.

"Comfortable, right?" Mina asked, leading you to a couch.

"Very much so. I didn’t think you’d keep all the posters I gave all of you for each of your tours..." you replied, taking a seat.

"Yeah well, you gave them to me, so I gotta, right?"

Mina sat beside you, her hand gently brushing against yours. "I appreciate you coming here, Mr. Manager. I know this is a little confusing for you, especially since you're already with Momo."

"It's alright, Mina. Momo’s alright with it and I want to make you happy too," you assured her.

Your gazes locked as she slowly brought her face closer to yours. Your lips met, your tongues dancing together in an intimate embrace. Mina's hands slid down, gripping your waist before moving lower to unbuckle your belt.

She pulled away momentarily, "Mr. Manager–"

"Please, Mina... call me Y/N."

Mina blushed slightly, "A–Alright, Y/N... I want you to breed me, alright?"

Your eyes widened, unsure if what you heard was right. Breed? Like... start a family? Mina could sense the shock behind your widened eyes.

"You heard me right, Y/N... I discussed this with Momo... she said that she’d allow you to get me pregnant... but if you want to breed her first, I’d totally understand."

You stuttered, unable to get words out of your mouth. Before long, your body moved on its own, leaning forward and joining your lips together once more. It appears your decision has been made. Whether it happens or not, you are going to attempt to breed Mina.

As the makeout continued, Mina pulled away once more. "Y/N, wait. Let me get changed into something... nicer for you~"

Your hands lingered on her hips, almost not wanting her to leave but a little wink from her left a smirk on your face. You waited patiently, checking your phone for any messages. Momo had just sent some.

Momo 🥰🥰: hey baby~ everything going well?

You: everything’s fine here baby, im back at mina’s

You: how about you? everything alright back at home?

Momo 🥰🥰: mhm

Momo 🥰🥰: just missing my beloved man is all~

Momo 🥰🥰: anyway, im not gonna bother you

Momo 🥰🥰: breed her well okay, baby? im trying to be an auntie here~

You chuckled to yourself.

You: alright baby, ill do my best

Momo 🥰🥰: okay~ get home safe, and if youre still not satisfied, im always open for a breeding~

You blushed hard as the both of you bid farewell. As you put your phone away, you looked up and felt your cock spring out from your undone pants. Mina sauntered in, her tight and fit body adorned in a beautiful feathered–blue jacket and a sexy light blue top and skirt.

Your mouth hung slightly agape as the goddess of a woman entered the room.

"So? How do I look?"

"...I need you so fucking bad."

You leaped up and wrapped your arms around her waist, engaging in a hot makeout once more. You dragged her back onto the couch and adjusted your member so that its tip is perfectly aligned with her slit.

It felt as though you weren’t in control any longer as you impaled her onto your cock, the tip bottoming her out almost immediately. She moaned loudly, arching her back to meet your every thrust. "Fuck, Y/N, you're so fucking big~! Just like Momo said you’d be~" she cried out.

You increased your pace, slamming your whole length into her as you showered her upper body with kisses. You began to lick her breasts erratically, it felt like you’d gone insane with lust.

As the intensity increased, Mina’s moans grew louder. "Ahhh, Y/N... you’re making me cream all over your cock," she panted.

You grinned, loving the wetness engulfing your length with each plunge. As you drowned in the sensations, you reached up, fondling her breasts while you ravaged her pussy. Mina arched her back, her heaving chest begging for more as her moans morphed into cries of pleasure.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she groaned, her fingers digging into your shoulders.

You could feel her warm folds begin to quiver around you, a sign that she was nearing her climax. Her walls clenched tight, making you feel like you were the owner of the most sought–after toy.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." Mina pleaded, her nails digging into your flesh as her orgasm claimed her.

Her cunt milked you like a greedy monster, and you couldn’t help but match her rhythm, feeling the familiar tinge of your own impending release.

"Mina, I’m close, baby..." you warned, your voice raspy.

"Knock me up, Y/N..." she cried out, her voice shaking as she looked deep into your eyes, urging you to fill her with your seed.

Your thrusts became more erratic, your hips bucking as you lost all semblance of control. With a loud grunt, you exploded, flooding her insides and filling her with your hot cum.

Mina continued to shake, her orgasm reasserting itself as you spilled your load into her. When your orgasm subsided, you collapsed onto her, panting heavily.

"Holy shit, Mina... you’re... unbelievable..." you said, your breath still catching in your throat.

Mina smiled, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. "Momo said you’d say that."

You began to pull out, admiring the evidence of your defilement on Mina’s thighs. Her hand rested on your abdomen. "Hold on, you didn’t think we were gonna stop after one round did you?"

Mina gazed longingly into your eyes as she pushed her lips against yours in a deep and passionate kiss. "Until further notice... I’m claiming you... You belong to me and Momo now~"

The both of you smirked before Mina broke the kiss, a wicked grin on her face. She readjusted herself as she made you lay back on the couch. Before long, she straddled you again. This time, however, her demeanour was different; she was in full control... Mina was in–charge now. Her hands gripped your shoulders tightly as she lowered herself further onto your cock, her pussy swallowing your whole length once again.

"Ahhh, Y/N, I’m..." her voice quivered as she bounced, her sultry voice pleading for more of your thick shaft. Mina began to ride you, her movements slow but deliberate. Each time she rose, she’d slide almost entirely off you, teasing your tip with her wet entrance.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." Mina’s tone was demanding, taking charge of the situation. She set a relentless pace, her slender thighs gripping your hips, her pelvis rocking back and forth. Her hands rose to her soft breasts, groping and squeezing them desperatrely. You did the same.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." She cried out, her moans deafening within the small apartment. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours. "THAT’S IT– YOU’RE MINE~"

Mina began to bounce faster, her cries growing louder as the scent of sex began to fill the room. Her hand reached between her legs, rubbing her clit while she rode you. Within minutes, she began to shake, her inner walls clenching you tightly.

"C–CUMMING–! C–Cum with me, Y/N!" Mina begged, her voice trembling.

Your hands gripped her hips. You didn’t think either of you could cum again this quickly, but Mina has shown you her sexual prowess and you just couldn’t hold back your own release anymore, your hips bucking to meet her rhythm. 

Together, you both climaxed, Mina’s orgasm pushing you over the edge. You pumped her full once more, your seed spilling into her as she collapsed on your chest, her hair draped over your face like a veil.

Panting, she whispered into your ear, "You better get used to this, Y/N. Momo and I are going to milk you dry."

"Oh, Mina... What do you think Momo has been doing with me the past few days?" You chuckled, sweat dripping down your forehead. "But hey, I’m not complaining, Mina."

Mina hugged you tightly, her heartbeat syncing with yours. You both remained intertwined, sharing this intimate moment in silence, savoring the afterglow.

She leaned up slightly, her outfit messy but still intact. The way her back arched made you shoot a little cum into her still impaled body.

"One last time?" she asked.

"I can’t say no to you~"

Mina leaned all the way back, your cock still engulfed within her folds. She arched her back a little, pushing her tits upwards. You could see the outline of her ribcage but for some reason, that turned you on that much more.

The both of you were now positioned in this desperate and hungry missionary, you began to drive yourself into her, your thrusts quick and forceful. Mina arched her back, her breasts jiggling with each plunge. She gripped your shoulders tightly, her nails digging into your flesh as her moans grew louder with each thrust.

"Aahh, Y/N, I’m... oh, fuck, Y/N, don’t stop..." Mina panted, her voice almost hoarse from all the screaming.

Your brows furrowed as you gritted your teeth. You’ve grown sexually frustrated. It’s like you couldn’t get enough of this woman. You kept thrusting, your hands reaching forward to squeeze the wonderful pair of mounds in front of you.

You could see a slight bulge on her abdomen form each time you thrusted inwards. Her loud yet sultry moans pushed you forward. You squeezed her hips, your hands gripping tightly on their sides.

"Fuck– Mina– I don’t think I can ever get enough of you– Momo was so right to invite you to join us– FUCK–"

Your own breathing grew ragged as you neared your limit yet again. Mina's sweat–soaked skin glistened under the light, her ribs visible beneath her smooth skin.

"Mmmm, Y/N... you feel... so fucking good..." she cried out, her words becoming more and more desperate.

Each thrust was now a battle for dominance, both of you vying for control as you forced your bodies to submit to the rhythmic pounding.

"Gnnnngh... Y/N... oh, fuck... don’t stop..." Mina begged, her voice now a mixture of pleading and demanding.

You slammed into her one last time, the sound of your flesh meeting hers echoing in the small room. "That’s it, Mina, squirt for me–" you groaned, your voice hoarse. Mina began to scream out in pure ecstasy and pleasure.

"OH MY GOD– FUCK~ KNOCK ME UP, Y/N– DO IT–!"

Mina's walls convulsed around you, triggering your own orgasm. Together, you both unleashed powerful orgasms. Her cries of ecstasy intermingled with your guttural grunts. Your seed flooded her once more, the heat of your release igniting another wave of pleasure for Mina.

With both of you completely spent, you collapsed onto her, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat dripped from your brows, coating both of your trembling forms.

"God damn, Mina..." you whispered, panting.

Mina smiled, her cheeks flushed from exertion. "I–I’m glad you approve, Y/N."

"Approve? I don’t think I ever wanna be away from you anymore... I guess it’s official, you’ve joined my relationship with Momo."

Both of you stayed entwined, sharing this intimate moment, the room now filled with the scent of sex and the heavy thumping of your heartbeats. After a while, Mina let out a content sigh, her body relaxing beneath you.

A few hours later, you were back at home with your beloved Momo. She could see the look of a man who had just been drained of what is essentially his soul. She playfully called out to you.

"Y/N, baby~ Come and sit with me."

As you waddled over and sat down, she gave you a soft kiss. You reciprocated.

"So, how was it? Looks like you had fun~!"

You nodded.

"Yeah, baby... Uhh, Mina’s gonna join us now... like you and me, us..."

"Mhm! I told her she could, I mean, you didn’t seem to mind when Nayeon was actively touching herself to us..."

"You’re right... I love you so much..."

Momo smiled, knowing she made the right choice, both for herself, for you, and for the both of you combined. Knowing that, you and Momo look forward to whoever else that would be interested in joining your little circle here.

You and Momo shared another sweet and loving kiss as she straddled your lap. Just then, you both heard a knock at the door. You stood up, walked over and opened it. There stood Mina in a white tank top, a tight blue jacket and a short yellow skirt. She presented her phone to you, a message already typed out to who you presumed to be the idol she slept with a while back.

Mina: hey, i dont think we should see each other anymore

Mina: sorry, i found someone better

Your gaze met hers as you brought her in for a passionate kiss. As you did, you brought your finger to the send button and pressed it. As the kiss broke, you brought Mina in to see Momo and the two sat on the couch together and faced you.

"Wait, what’s happening now?"

"You know~"

[Let me know if you want a part two or if you want me to make this a long running story. And let me know who else you'd want to see a fic about.]

[shomatoriashi]

01/06/25; 06:03pm

sylus x fem.reader | non.mc

obligatory tags: @voidsylus | @milkandstarlight

warnings: unedited; semi-public s-x.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the boutique located in the n109 zone that sylus had taken you to was surrounded by dozens of high class women; those who were born with a silver spoon in their hands. now, being an average woman, you didn’t get to experience the luxuries of such a life until much later (the moment you fell in love with sylus as he swore to give you not only his heart, but anything and everything you desired as well.)

which was why you were here to begin with. even as you browsed the cute trinkets and jewelry from the store, you could feel the clerk’s eyes glaring daggers into you. not only were you receiving dark looks, but all the other employees were actively ignoring you, choosing instead to sink their claws into your lover as their saccharine voice asked if he needed any help.

“no, i’m fine, but my girlfriend could use some assistance.”

you momentarily bask in their crestfallen expression, watching as they tossed aside their curled hair before marching over to you. you had not even spoken a single word when the catty employee leans in to harshly whisper in your ear, “sorry, but i believe these cute jewels are just way too expensive for the likes of you. after all, having you wear our brand would be such a disgrace.”

as swiftly as she came, she stomps away from you, her laughter echoing throughout the store as she went to gossip with her coworkers over what had just transpired. manicured nails point at you, as their hushed whispers openly mocked you as they spoke about how unfit you were to be with mr. sylus.

grateful that sylus was entirely focused on the contents of his phone, you decided to get a tiny bit of revenge by hatching an almost diabolical plan. instead of looking at the various rings and necklaces, you cling onto sylus’s arms and point toward the direction of the section that housed all of the lingeries.

“walk me over there?” you point a finger over at where the various lingeries were on display, watching as sylus’s eyebrows go up in amusement.

“my, i wanted to take you here in order to help treat yourself. i didn’t think that i would receive a treat as well, little dove.”

you tried to appear as innocuous as possible, jutting your lips out into a pretty pout as you pulled sylus along. “but of course, i’m always willing to spoil you, sy.”

with sylus practically following you around (like a lost puppy), you have him talk to the lady manning the fitting rooms, asking him to get a key for one of the rooms as you made your selection alone. giving you a chaste kiss, he obeys your command and leaves you to your own devices-

which was exactly what you wanted to happen.

your eyes scan the various lingeries, searching for the perfect one that would set sylus off-

and within mere minutes, you found one.

the material of the flimsy piece left little to the imagination, and you could just picture the way your perky nipples would strain against such pretty lace while wrapping the most intimate part of you in ribbons-

this is the one.

folding the lingerie, you head towards the fitting rooms, seeing sylus waiting for you as he handed you the key. blowing him a kiss, you sweetly ask him to wait for you before locking yourself into the single room. taking a moment to admire such a spacious area, you muse to yourself at how this place felt like a totally different world before getting to work. putting your purse aside, you hurriedly shimmy out of your clothes, making sure you were bare before sliding on the lingerie, feeling the silk fabric fit your form to perfection. admiring yourself in the mirror, you put on a fresh coat of lip gloss while fixing your hair-

ready for sylus to make his move.

you open the door, standing seductively against it while whispering sylus’s name. he looks away from his phone, meeting your sultry gaze as his eyes widened with shock. crimson irises were felt raking down your form, making you giggle.

“like what you see, sy?”

yet the onychinus leader doesn’t answer you, choosing instead to march into your fitting room while slamming the door shut. “do i like what i see? kitten, you are absolutely divine.” you feel the way his powerful hands wrap around your waist before picking you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you felt the way his clothed erection strained against you-

making you break out into a grin when you realized you had him; hook, line, and sinker.

he presses his hot lips press against the base of your throat when he pins you against the wall, ready to slide off your lingerie when you stopped him. “no… i want to keep this pretty lace on, just for you, sy.”

a low growl escapes from sylus, and you felt him lower his large hand between your legs before moving the ribbons that cover your center off to the side. with a gasp, you felt his large finger slowly drive itself into your wet heat before making a pumping motion. “you’re driving me crazy, love.”

hiding his face within the curve of your neck, sylus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, drawing out breathy moans that seemed to echo throughout the boutique. with your arms wrapped around his neck, you gently grind your cunt against his fingertips while whispering in his ear, “do i feel good, wrapped around your fingers like this?”

a broken groan was heard coming from sylus when he removed his now soaked fingers out of your core, licking them clean briefly before adjusting his hold on you. he presses your chest against the walls now, making you gasp when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you.

even when you weren’t able to see him, you could feel him- the sensation of hot velvet pressing against your soaked cunt before slowly sheathing itself inside of you. your gasps quickly morph into moans when sylus began to pound his cock into you, literally fucking you into the wall.

“i’m so fucking obsessed with you.” his hot whispers were all you could hear, feeling sylus press lingering kisses against your damp skin. you felt each new angle of his cock slamming back into you, causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you each time as your walls eagerly take in every inch he had to offer.

somehow, you were able to find your voice, begging him to turn you around. “l-let me look at you, sy… i want to see you as i fall apart for you.”

a low hiss was heard as sylus bites down against the lobe of your ear, heeding your command when he hurriedly pulls out of you. the sudden loss of him causes you to sob in response, with sylus gripping at your waist before allowing your back to meet the wall once more. settling himself between your thighs, sylus doesn’t waste another second when he completely impales his cock back into you.

your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, coaxing your lover to go even deeper as you felt your breasts bounce with his every movement. not even caring that you were not alone while in the midst of this expensive boutique, you allow your moans and his grunts to echo throughout the space, your back arching when you felt the way your walls sweetly wrapped around sylus’s cock before milking him for all he was worth.

spurts of his seed were felt escaping your walls as they stained at the lace and ribbons of the lingerie, with sylus letting out a content grunt. his hips sloppily thrust into you, making sure he was completely emptied before resting his weight against your shoulder. by now, you were both panting, feeling the sweat run down your respective forms as sylus pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder.

keeping your hips still, sylus gently pulls out of you, and you moan when you felt the evidence of your respective release further stain the lingerie. sylus takes a step back, admiring how he had completely wrecked you and the flimsy fabric with an appreciative hum. as he adjusts himself (placing his softened cock back into the confines of his boxers), you watch as he zips up his pants before gathering your crumpled clothes from the ground.

not even allowing you to remove the utterly ruined lingerie, sylus helps you put on your clothes while pocketing your panties. once your blouse was on, you watch as sylus shoves your bra into the confines of your purse, hands automatically going around your waist as he presses a lingering kiss on your temple.

“keep that purchase on you; i’ll pay for it as we walk out- i’m far from being done with you, kitten.”

unlocking the door to the fitting room, sylus grabs the key and his wallet, coming face to face with a now blushing woman that had a wide eyed gaze. he tosses a few bills at her as payment for your latest purchase all while giving your backside a firm smack!

as you both walk out of the boutique, you basked in everyone’s shocked expression (red face and all!) while showing them your own, victorious smile-

having the leader of onychinus as your lover meant that you would always have free reign to do whatever you wished to do (since everyone feared him and would never wish to go against him), and even if you weren’t born with the world given to you on a silver platter-

sylus was all too willing to fix that and make it a reality for you.

end notes: so i had a n a u g h t y daydream earlier and decided to make it a r e a l i t y… (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[innistable]

Talk talk (snippet) [Full fic coming 10/07/2024] [1/4]

jason todd x reader

summary: the sequence of events that led you and your neighbor, Jason Todd, to fall in love. For better of for worse.

a/n: I'm new to tumblr and I'm still getting the hang of this. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Please, like and reblog if you are interested in reading the full fic, any comment is highly appreciated.

word count: 2k

Your grandmother had always been a superstitious woman, constantly talking about those omens lying everywhere, praying to be seen, both as a warning sign or as a blissful encounter. However, you have never been the one to pay attention to that, not caring about cats, stairs, corners, clover and everything in between, especially in a city like Gotham, where you don’t need an auspice to know that danger is close. 

For all of its sketchiness, Gotham City is a pretty straightforward place, there is always something happening, you may not see it, but it is there, an uneasiness that you can’t quite shake, hiding in a blind spot, a shadow in the corner of your eye. Still, in this precise moment, you wish that you had paid attention to something, omen or not, maybe the gray sky had been a good pointer that it was going to rain, maybe for once you could have listened to weather forecast, and maybe, just maybe, you should have just stayed at home after you saw that black cat licking one of its wounds on the fire escape. 

The point of all this is that it is raining, pouring, it’s one of those rainfalls that’s so loud and strong that it makes you think that the sky is being torn apart. Now you are on your knees, blue jeans now wet and grayish against the cold pavement, trying to retrieve your scattered groceries. 

It went like this: a few harmless droplets when you were cornering Monolith Square to take the bus after spending the evening seeing the Wayne Botanical Garden; on the bus, you were reading a book, something short and too pretentious for its own good, suddenly, the driver was using the windshield wiper and you noticed that the window view was then translucent, being barely able to make out the street silhouettes, it all became a blurry heap of buildings, street lamps and ill-defined legs, torsos and heads; then, you recognized the “C” Building, your stop, so you pressed the button, the bus slowed down and opened its door, outside a storm awaited. 

It’s a two hundred meter walk to your apartment, but what normally was easy, it turned into a midday odyssey, strong winds and warm water made the route unbearable, your tote bag felt heavier by every passing second and just when you were in front of your building, keys in hand, your bag tore by the seams, and all of its contents fell to the ground. 

It’s frustrating and you feel like screaming, it’s not the worst thing to ever happen to you, but it does feel like it is, probably because Gotham is some kind of cruel mistress, no matter how hard you try to play by its rules, it always ends up having a way to humble you, you might try to avoid trouble, but it ends up finding you, one way or another. You have this kind of overwhelming sentiment that makes your eyes sting when you see the damp sugar on the floor, just next to the trinkets you got from the Wayne Botanical Garden and your favorite brand of cookies. 

The rain seems to feel your distress and it starts pouring even more. Great. 

“Need help?” a voice asks. 

You have never been a very religious person, but when you hear those words dripped in that thick gothamite accent that sometimes makes your stomach churn, you think that perhaps there is something out there that has decided to glance your way for once, and that for once, it felt pity for you. 

“Yes.” you say. 

You look up and see a tall man, gruff, huge. He has dry blood on his upper lip, a thin scab, dark maroon, recent but not too fresh. His hair is black, tousled, with a white streak on the front, and it seems a little bit damp, locks sticking to his forehead. His skin seems thick, probably because it is littered with scars, white dents on his skin, some big and some small, you don’t think too much about it, it’s Gotham, everyone has some scars around here, from gunshots to safety accidents on the swings of Robinson Park. His eyes are blue, almost icy, and his pupil is enveloped by vibrant green hues, his gaze seems curious and fixated, he is analyzing you, the same way you are analyzing him, ‘fair’ you think. He wears a worn out hoodie, overused, with grease spots and frayed holes, he is wearing also a pair of black shorts, the ones you use for running or going to the gym, and he’s also using trainers, the label says Numa instead of Puma, they are probably from the street markets that you can find around in every corner of Gotham. 

He is alluring, you concede, even handsome. But that doesn’t matter, because he is kind. Gotham is isolating, people keep to themselves, they look the other way, not because they are necessarily assholes, but because they have clear boundaries, they distinguish your business from their business, and unless those two spheres intersect, they don’t see a reason to cross the line, it’s easier that way. Therefore, unapologetic kindness is not something easy to come across; in fact, you would be wary of it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he has a plastic bag and is taking your milk carton from the ground. Thank you, that’s what your eyes say. 

For Jason it goes like this. 

He is in his apartment, for the first time in days. It’s Wednesday and on Saturday he had a complicated patrol with Nightwing, the kind of complicated that leaves your face scarlet and body mauve, the type of convoluted patrol that leaves you aching for days, movements limited and a sore spot under your sixth rib. 

He was kept in the Manor until yesterday evening, not because he wanted to, but because he was forced to. I can take care of myself he grumbled, but then Afred got this look in his eyes, not the one that says I am disappointed, he doesn’t care about that, he is used to disappointing, to failed expectations and lists of unspoken requirements he will never meet, it’s fine, what’s not fine is the other look, the one that softly whispers You are breaking my heart, master Jason, and Jason doesn’t want to do that, not to Alfred, who seems the only one ready to accept him for what he is now and not clinging to an old memory of what could have been. So, he stayed, receiving medical care from Leslie and Alfred, but he left as soon as he could. 

Alfred had asked if he was staying for dinner, even though at this point it’s more of a silent plea, some sort of want for him to stay for once, to really be part of the family, to act like one, but Jason never agrees. The thing is, Jason never stays, he flees, he doesn’t do goodbyes or excuses, he is not a Wayne, perhaps he was at some point, when he was loud and excitable, full of wonder, but that part of him died, and no magic or god can bring that back, some things stay dead and maybe it’s better off that way. 

The point is that he was finally back at his apartment. The closest thing he had to a proper home. It was small, he could afford bigger, he had bigger, but it began being just a plain safehouse, some impersonal storage unit to keep ammo, League weapons, gear, etc. However, at some point, he started spending nights there, probably because it was in a nice part of Gotham, Midtown, without the constant chaos from Uptown, where he mostly operated, but still far away from the haughtiness ever so characteristic of Downtown Gotham. It was a perfect balance, not too much, not too little, and Jason likes evenness, equilibrium, perhaps because most days he tethers the line between sanity and insanity so he appreciates any resemblance of stability he can grasp onto. 

He arrived yesterday at 20:30, ordered delivery from the mexican restaurant a few blocks away, and fell asleep watching reruns from an old, mildly successful tv show. He likes the background noise, when everything is too quiet, he starts imagining things: footsteps, the sound of a crowbar against his flat’s parquet, screams and wails, the sound of a ticking bomb, etc. He likes everything that makes his subconscious believe that he is not alone. 

His morning wasn’t different from any other mornings and that was fine. Jason enjoys routines, the predictable. He enjoys his usual morning channel; the black cat that visits him every morning to silently ask for food; the cadence of his neighbors footsteps as they run around their flat trying to get the kids ready for school and Roy’s texts. There is no sign that today is going to be different, and he likes that. He hits the gym, as always. He prepares lunch, nothing fancy. He reads, today it is The Master and Margarita, he is one hundred pages in, he marks words, phrases, writes thoughts on the margins and slowly makes his way through. He journals, he is not much of a poet, not that he wants to; he might be tortured, but he is not an artist, words more times than not get stuck on his throat, scratching like barbed wire against his larynx, drawing blood; however, Dinah, also known as Black Canary, who acts as his psychologist via Roy, advised him to write, she told him that it could help, sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn’t, he keeps doing it anyway. 

When the clock marks 17:23, he gets bored, so he goes to his balcony. It’s sad, but he lives his days anticipating the nights; he likes patrolling, he savors the adrenaline, he basks on the rush, he thrives under the light of traffic and streetlights; daylight stuns him, he doesn’t really know how to navigate the world once the sun has risen, it’s disorientating. Therefore, he just rots, he decays around his apartment, and now he feels like festering on his balcony. Suddenly, it starts to rain. It begins as a drizzle, so he doesn’t really care, he takes a cigarette, he lights it up and takes a puff. 

He started to smoke when he came back to life, his dad used to do it, his mom too, everyone in Crime Alley did it, since it helped you to stay warm. When he was younger, he didn’t like it, back then when he was the bright-eyed Robin and he treated his body like a temple because Batman told him to do so, back when the only thing he wanted was to prove himself worthy, something he never was. His body as Robin was a temple; his body as the Red Hood are the ruins of a long forgotten empire that lived its own demise, and no one cares about ruins, why should he? 

His first cigarette was given to him by Egon, one of the first mercenaries who trained him after his resurrection; then, the habit sticked, after all the life he chose, the life he lives, happens on dimly lit bars and dingy hideouts where a thick layer of smoke covers everything, it’s only normal that he smokes. Furthermore, he admits, there is some kind of masochist element to it, at first, the smell of smoke was enough to send him to a panic attack, since it reminded him of bombs, collapsed buildings, screeching manic laughs and charred skin; smoke was what filled his lungs when he gave his last breath, so if he was able to control the panic that the smell evoked, that meant that he won, in some way, in any form, it may be a consolation prize, but a prize nevertheless. 

So he smokes and the rain starts falling with more force, but he doesn’t bother going inside, he likes the feeling of the droplets against his skin, it’s nice, it feels real. He looks down and he sees you, hunched over picking things from the floor and, after a few heartbeats laced with smoke, he decided to go down and help. 

He sees you up close, eyes fixed in your face, taking in every detail, engraving them on his memory as he does with everyone. Right now, the world doesn’t tilt on his axis, there are no sweaty palms or rushed breaths, nothing has stopped, it doesn’t feel like something monumental, but it is. 

He helps you and accompanies you to your apartment, it’s on the second floor - his is on the fourth - and he feels content about knowing someone new after Roy has been nagging him about needing to be friendlier and meet other people. He doesn’t talk much, he never does, he tells you his name and his apartment number, it’s enough for such a small talk. You thank him and it feels nice. He leaves and you close the door, it’s enough for today. 

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[chaossturns]

𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

⋆⑅˚₊ — synopsis: you spend countless nights thinking about your past relationship with matt, but what happens when he breaks the no contact?

“can you, tell me what’s with all the distant love? if i called, would you pick it up?” - kehlani

⋆⑅˚₊ — pairing: ex!matt x fem!reader

⋆⑅˚₊ — warnings: angst, slight crying, swearing, smut, p in v, missionary, unprotected sex (be smart), and pet names

a/n: i sorta made the lyrics to be the readers thoughts as the fic moves along, let me know how ya'll feel about that. but anywho, enjoy babessss

⋆⑅˚₊ — word count: 1.6k

slightly proofread

5 months. 

5 months since you and Matt cut ties with each other. In reality it was the right thing to do, he was taking a toll on your mental health. saying things he didn’t mean, keeping broken promises, playing with your emotions, and just entirely throwing your feelings away. 

You deeply loved Matt, but you just couldn’t bear the truth that he truly didn’t care for you anymore like he used to. The love had become distant and not worthy, more lies were being told from Matt's end. But he swore up and down he wouldn’t do it again, yet you went for his lies over and over again. 

On a daily occurrence you often find yourself reminiscing on your past relationship with Matt. In all honesty you craved to be back under his touch every night, his fingers floating over your skin as sleep would slowly take over your body. You itched to grab your phone and text him, but you had to be strong. 

“on some nights like this, i just want to text you, but for what?”

But this night it was different. The moon was completely full, it shined brightly into your room as you sat in bed. You found yourself sifting through photos of you and Matt together, having such a desire for a brand new connection with him. With groans leaving your lips you throw the phone on the bed, getting tired of having these feelings. 

You sat up against your headboard, so many thoughts clouding your mind as you sat and pondered. The sound of your phone buzzing rang in your ears, receiving a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown

hey 

i miss you 

i’m sorry 

All of the air had gotten sucked out of you, a various amount of questions swirled around in your head. Did he actually miss me? Is he lying again? Why text me now? 

“you gon’ say you want me, then go switch it up”

Before you could even guide your fingers to respond back he texts you once more. 

let me come over, we can talk

Your lip sits between your teeth as nervousness and anxiousness creep into your body, debating whether or not you should talk to him. You decide to leave him on read, not having a complete answer for him nor yourself. Feeling the need to pee you head to your connected bathroom and relieve yourself but when you return to your phone you’re met with yet another text from Matt. 

i’m omw

matt no

i’m almost there

Breaths start leaving your lungs quicker, your legs making themselves pace throughout your room. Being nervous was an understatement. You were completely hyperventilating and freaking out. Why couldn’t he just wait for an answer? Did he really want to see me that bad?

You see lights illuminate through the window, the engine of a car being powered off. Matt was here. Matt was fucking here. Trying your hardest to calm down you heard his fist collide with the front door, his keys clashing with each other as he moved. You gradually make your way towards the door, undoing the locks and twisting the knob revealing the blue eyes you’ve desperately missed. 

Matt shifted on his feet, fidgeting with the rings on his pointer and pinky fingers. “Can i- um, can I come in?” he asks, putting his right hand behind his head and scratching his head. “Oh yeah, right, come on in.” you responded, moving to the left side of the door which allowed him to pass by you. You felt the warmth radiating off his skin as he walked by, wanting to rush into his embrace to feel secure by him again. 

He makes his way into your living room and sits on the plush couch. You do the same but sit yourself on the other side. “So,” you say breaking the ice, “what’d you wanna talk to me about?” you question, pulling your knees up to your chest. “I just-, i just miss you.” he answers, dropping his head as his vision is fixed on his lap. “I fucked up bad. Like really fucking bad.” he scoffs, returning his gaze back to your flushed face. 

“you gon’ get my hopes high,”

You left out a breath, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skin. “I miss you too Matt.” you reveal, a glint of happiness danced in his eyes. “But it won’t be easy getting me back.” you continue, Matt nodding his head in understanding. Silence scales over the room, no words seemed to be said. You put your head down as you pick at the overgrown acrylics on your nails, not noticing that Matt was inching closer to you. 

By the time you bring your head up Matt is directly next to you, reaching an arm behind you to wrap around your shoulder and bring you closer into his chest. You let this happen with a gentle sigh floating out into the air. Matt lips are placed on your head confiding in the comfort you bring him, wondering why he had let you go. 

You turn your head to look up at Matt, staring at the pink shade casted over his lips. He looks back at you, his eyes shifting between your lips and your sparkling brown orbs. His lips close in on yours as they mold together, moving in sync as his hand rests on the side of your face. The kiss contained gentleness and desire, leading you to place yourself on his lap as your legs sat on the side of his. 

His erection grew under you as you rocked on him, filling him with the need to be inside you. You hungrily pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the side. Matt’s hands fiddle with the hem of your long sleeve, awaiting your approval to remove it from your body. “May I?” you nod, leaving your chest to be left in a baby blue bralette. He reaches around your back to unclasp your bra, your boobs dropping with the withdrawal. “Absolutely perfect.” He says, decorating your neck with small, sloppy kisses as you tilt your head to give him more access. 

Your hands collect at his belt to remove it from him, eagerness laced with your movements. He raises his hips allowing you to drag his pants down. Only left in his black boxers, your hand palms him as a groan emits from his mouth. He tugs at your shorts and pulls them down along with your matching blue panties. You pull his boxers down as his aching length claps back on his stomach. His tip was an angry red as it yearned for some sort of contact. 

Matt runs his finger down your slit, collecting your wetness as his finger dragged up and down. “Matt.” you whine. “What is it sweetheart?” his voice dropping into a seductive tone. “Please fuck me.” you say. In that moment something switches in Matt, his eyes darken as he pushes your back on the couch. His lips attach to your collarbone creating marks, the tip of his dick entering you slowly. He eventually bottoms out inside your tight hole, being stretched out by him in the most perfect way possible. 

“Shit princess.” Matt’s strokes maintain a content pace, the surrounding room filling with his body clapping against yours. Your eyes stay stuck to his face, watching how his face reacts to the pleasure he's feeling. His lip was partially trapped between his teeth and his eyebrows pushed together. The past times you and Matt fucked it was more fast and lust filled. But this time it became more sensual, taking his time with you as he cherished this moment. Soft, quiet moans could be heard from him which only drove you crazier. Matt was never one to prevent his noises and you loved that about him. You loved many things about him but that was one that came above everything else. 

“M-Matt.” you manage to get out between moans, “m-m faster.” Matt obeys and his strokes begin to hasten, your walls pulsating around his dick. “You feel so good baby.” he says, linking your lips together. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth, your tongues twirled and collided while you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him more into you. Your body moved in rhythm with Matt, producing a familiar feeling to crawl inside you. 

“M’close.” Matt’s tip creates a recurring feeling as it hits your delectable spot. A reverberant moan dropping from your mouth as you’re drawn closer and closer to your orgasm. “You gonna cum for me hm?” kisses being placed on your jawline as his hands stay stuck on your hips. You nod quickly, wanting to become undone under Matt’s body. “Words princess, I need your words.” He says, a grunt being followed after. “Y-yes.” your body shaking erogenously as you're on the brink of exploding. “I’m g-gonna cum.” the most piecing moan escaping out of your throat as Matt shoots his steamy, warm load deep inside your pussy. “Fuck i’ve missed this.” Matt says, leisurely pulling his cum covered length out of you. Nothing but deep breaths could be heard from you two, staring at the ceiling while the wind blew outside.

Matt extends his arm past you to grab the blanket beside you, throwing it over your shaking figure. “Thank you for tonight.” playing with a string attached to the blanket. “Of course sweetheart.” His hand combing out your messy hair. Your face dropped in regret, wondering if this was all a mistake. As much as you deeply enjoyed tonight, you had to admit something to him.

“Matt,” you say in a mere whisper. “Yes sweetheart?” His eyes connect with yours. “I’m scared to fall in love with you again.” and with that Matt feels a pang of sadness in his heart, feeling remorseful for the way he has made you feel. “I’m sorry baby.” he says, pulling your naked body flush with his as tears begin to fall from out his eyes and dropping into your hair.

“feel like it’s too hard to fall in love again, no”

tags: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl @thisisntmattsturniolo @hoesformatt @sturniyolo69 @luvs4matt @joemamaaa42069 @conspiracy-ash @chrispotatos @watercolorskyy

[queenbrucewayne]

Grand Tour

A/n: Ngl this absolutely got away from me, it wasn’t supposed to be this long… sorry.

Moving to Gotham was a spur of the moment thing. It was supposed to be a remote job so you wouldn’t have to pack up and leave, but for some reason the idea to be in the same city as the company you work for to get a brand new start sounded just like what you needed.

The place you picked had some personality, nothing too big, but just big enough that all the things you owned has a place.

“This is gonna be great.”

Turning around you noticed that your friend Clark had 3 big boxes, all marked bedroom on it.

“Clark! Let me help!” You quickly ran over to take the top box off, now being able to see his head.

“I told you it’s not that heavy, I got it.” He laughed, setting down the other two boxes.

Even though you had struggled taking the one box from him, it looked like he had hardly broken a sweat carrying three. Guess he really didn’t need help….

“Ya know, for a guy who can’t say a straight sentence in front of his crush, you sure are great at keeping things going smoothly.”

Clark pouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You still haven’t asked out Lois, have you?”

“I’m taking things slow.” He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Too slow!” Picking up your new set of keys, you tugged on his hand towards the front door. “Common! We are done for today, let’s go get some food. I’m starved!”

Clark stopped confused. “But, we just brought the boxes in, we haven’t even unpacked anything.”

“I can live out of boxes for a month! It’ll be fine!” You pulled him along, locking the front door behind you. Clark went down the stairs. “Food comes first.”

“Alright, I know a place. There’s a diner a few blocks from here.”

You glanced over, “uh… you know a place?”

Clark nodded, “My friend took me there once.”

“Ah, yes. The mysterious Gotham friend you’ve told me about.” You go into the car, Clark on the drivers side. “Ya know, you’ve talked about him, but you’ve never told me his name.”

Clark hesitated for a moment, turning on the car he put it in drive and they made their way. “It’s nothing personal, he’s just one of those friends that doesn’t like his personal life shared, I respect it.”

“Riiight… says the reporter.” Y/n teased.

“It’s different with him, he’s a good friend.” Clark said. You both were silent for a minute.

“Wow, Clark….” You started, sounding heartfelt.

He looked over suspiciously.

“You’re in love with him.”

Clark nearly choked, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter he scoffed. “I’m not in love with him.”

You nodded understandingly. “It’s okay, I won’t tell, your secret is safe with me.” You placed your hand over your heart dramatically, trying not to laugh as you see the annoyance he couldn’t hide.

Pulling in, both of you got out and headed inside. The ring of the door bell made your arrival noticed. The waitress called out to take a seat wherever, which you and Clark gladly did.

There was very few people, a perfect corner booth was open. “Over here.”

Clark followed behind you. Both of you sliding into the booth across from each other.

Once the waitress had come over and took your order, you were left to chat with Clark about the good ole Smallville days.

“I’m going to miss the old farm life a bit.” You looked outside to the city, “it’s definitely two different worlds.”

Clark smiled, “I’ve always known you to adjust to about anywhere, you’ll do great here.”

You looked back to him. “You seem to be doing okay.” Reaching down to take a sip of coffee you continued, “How did you do it.”

Clark shrugged, “I missed it a lot at first, but I found a purpose in Metropolis. You will find yours…in Gotham I suppose.” He said sheepishly.

“Awh common Clark, It’s not so bad here. It’s got character.” You looked down to your plate of pancakes, “I think it’s a great city.”

“I would happen to agree.”

Both you and Clark turned your heads to see a man standing over your booth, he was wearing a nice looking white dress shirt with some black slacks and a matching blazer. His hair was slicked smoothly and his cologne smelt like oak and whiskey.

“Although, I would be pretty bias to say so.” Looking down to you, he smiled, a sweet but mischievous smile. Holding out his hand you could not help yourself but to take it. “Gotham, will certainly be lucky to be gaining a beautiful women such as you.” He bent down, a gentle kiss to your hand, but his eyes were still staring at yours.

“What are you doing here?” Clark spoke up, his voice was somewhere in between irritated and confusion.

The man didn’t look in Clarks direction. He only took a step back and slipped both hands in his pants pockets. Still looking at you. “Enjoying the view.”

You cracked a smile at that, bringing your coffee quickly to your mouth to try to hide the bit of embarrassment you were feeling.

Clark scoffed, rolling his eyes he scooted over to be closer to the window in his booth. “Right, why don’t you have a seat, and maybe shove some bacon in your mouth, do us both some good to keep it occupied.”

The man turned to Clark now, taking the opportunity to slide in, but not before saying. “There’s other things then food to keep my mouth occupied.”

You chuckled a little this time, trying to look anywhere then this man’s bright blue stare. “I take it you two know each other?” You asked.

Clark leaned back in the booth. “Unfortunately…Y/n this is Bruce Wayne. Bruce this is Y/n L/n, she just moved here from Smallville.”

“Ah, so you’re from the same town as Clark, why come all the way to the city life?” Bruce asked, taking Clark’s advise and grabbing a piece of bacon from the plate.

“New job, needed something super different, I don’t exactly have the best real world experience outside of Smallville. I wanted a change.”

Bruce nodded, pointing over to Clark. “Why not go to Metropolis, be near this guy, since you know someone.”

You laughed nervously. “Heh, yeah, the job just took me here, and so I followed.” It was a half lie, you didn’t want Clark to know you did have the same opportunity in Metropolis as you did in Gotham. He would’ve stopped at nothing to try and get you there.

Truth be told you didn’t wanna go to Clark’s city of Metropolis. You wanted a fresh start, new friends, new environment. When Clark left Smallville he didn't know you hadn't made any progress in your life being there, that small town. If you were still in Smallville at your age, you were ether deciding to settle or having the same career as your parents before, and the cycle would continue.

Metropolis was filled with those from Smallville, being compared to your old self with those old memories of those people around you wasn't the change you were looking for.

Clark looked at you curiously. You cursed to yourself thinking he must have noticed your nerves. No matter how many times you’ve tried to keep something from him it was always like he knew you were lying, almost like he could hear your heart skip a beat…

"I'm very grateful for the opportunity." You said quickly, ignoring the look Clark was giving.

Bruce smiled, "Sounds like you're ready to go then." He reached across the table to take a piece of your bacon. "If you ever need a tour guide, someone to take you around the city-"

"No." Clark cut in. "I don't think that will be necessary." It wasn't a hint of jealousy, but a hint of over protectiveness coming from him. Clark continued to glare at Bruce. However Bruce didn't seemed phased in the slightest. He was still munching on your bacon, a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Actually, that would be great!" You piped up.

Both men looked toward you, Clark was shocked, while Bruce looked amused.

"What?" Clark crossed his arms.

"Who better to take me around town than a city local." You shrugged, leaning back in your booth you across your arms over your chest.

"Born and raised." Bruce jumped in.

"Shut up." Clark snapped. He sighed, sitting up slightly. "Y/n, you just got to town, the last thing you need is a grande tour with Bruce Wayne. You would be on the front page on tomorrows celebrity magazine.

You furrowed your brows, confused by the ending of that sentence. "Whats that suppose too mean?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "Oh common, you know what I mean."

When your confused expression didn't change Clark continued. "Y/n, he's Bruce Wayne..."

You nodded, "Yeah, he told me his name, I know."

Bruce sat up this time. "Wait, you don't know who I am?"

You looked back and forth to both men, thinking Clark was gonna jump in, but he looked stumped.

"Should I?" You asked, starting to feel a little insecure by how quiet Clark was. "Are you a big deal?"

"Damn....I don't remember the last time I had to introduce myself." Bruce smiled, seeming to enjoy whatever was happening.

"Y/n"

You looked to Clark.

"Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, Bruce Wayne." Clark said it like you were supposed to have a light bulb moment... but there was nothing.

"It's a small town, and I hadn't really used the internet too much till recently... I'm sorry." You said sheepishly.

Bruce shook his head, smiling bigger now. "Don't apologize, this could be fun actually." Standing up from the booth, Bruce reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He threw down a couple hundred dollar bills. "Why don't we take that tour now?"

You looked up to him surprised. Clark sat up straighter, looking up at him just as taken back. "Excuse you?"

Bruce held out a hand in front of you, waiting for you to take it, he ignored everything Clark was saying to him. And to be honest... so were you. You got excited, quickly putting your hand in his, you held it tightly as he pulled you up from the booth.

"Y/n?!" Clark protested.

Looking down to him you shrugged casually. "Sorry Clark, this sounds like a deal I should take."

Clark was about ready to protest, “I’ll have her home before dark.” Bruce put his arm around your shoulder. “See you soon Clark.” He gave him a wink and directed you towards the diner exit.

“Bruce!” Clark protested, getting out of the booth he stood there and watched as the both of you left.

“Wow,” you stopped in your tracks to see a bright red sports car. “Okay, I might be starting to believe you’re a billionaire.” You teased.

Bruce laughed, opening the door for you he waited for you to get in. Shutting the door behind you, he walked across to the other side, opening his door he stopped himself when he saw Clark come out of the diner.

“Bruce…” Clark said his name like a threat, but nothing else after.

He smiled cheekily at him, “Don’t wait up Kent.” With a wink he got into the car.

Bruce started the car and it rumbled loudly. He pressed a few buttons and flipped a switch that raised the roof.

The outside air hit your face, making a chill go down your spine. You looked back to Clark, he was irritated, but didn’t make an effort to stop you.

Bruce shifted gears and sped off, leaving the diner and Clark in the review mirror.

The Gotham city scenery was perfect right now. The sun was close to setting and most people by now were already off the road from work. It was beautiful sky’s and clear streets just for you.

The drive around the city was great. Bruce explained certain landmarks, he mentioned some good restaurants as we pasted them, and gave warning about certain areas that had a high danger rate to stay clear of.

All of this was great information, but nothing compared to the drive over the bridge. The water below has reflected off of the bright orange and red sunset, it was like a scene from a movie.

You put your right hand out, feeling the cool breeze thru your hair and finger tips. It was calming.

Once you were over the bridge, you were driving up a hill. Bruce took you to the top, putting the car in park he turned the key to shut it off.

A huge willow tree swayed in the wind at the top. The view looked over most of Gotham, really seeing the difference of when you would get into the city and when you would be out of city limits.

You opened the door and stood from the car, never taking your eyes off of the view. You walked in front of the car, watching the sunset start to form and make the sky all the more brighter with red.

Bruce followed behind you, leaning up against the hood of the car, he stared out and over the hill with you.

“It’s probably the most peaceful you’ll ever see Gotham.” Bruce crossed his arms across his chest.

The bright red reflected off of the bridge, casting down to the murky water, creating a red rust look to it all.

The winds picked up a bit causing you to shiver slightly, not exactly preparing for the spontaneous adventure you were gonna have today, so bringing a jacket wasn’t on your list of needs upon leaving your apartment.

You suddenly felt fabric around your shoulders, the warmth instantly blocking the chilly wind.

Bruce had taken off his blazer and put it around you. Smiling down, he pulled the front collar a bit tighter around you, covering your chest to try to block the wind from both directions.

“Thank you.” You said, slipping your arms in the sleeves you sighed in relief as the body heat from the blazer instantly started to warm you up.

Bruce leaned back against the car, this time much closer to you then he was before. “You and Clark seem close.”

“Yeah.. as much as I really enjoyed today, you really only kidnapped me to get under his skin, right?” You glanced over at him, catching the smirk on his face.

“That definitely was the main objective. However, I couldn’t help but notice you were very easy to convince to go along.”

“I knew it would’ve been worth it.”

“Even from a complete stranger?” He teased.

“If you were truly a bad person, Clark would’ve never let me go with you.” You shrugged.

“Ha.. he is very protective of you.”

You nodded, looking out at the city again. “Yeah, we grew up together, I would say he’s probably my best friend.”

“Just best friends? Never anything more?” Bruce hesitated asking.

You didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, no, just friends” you looked back to him. “Besides, the moron is totally head over heels puppy dog in love with Lois Lane.”

“He still hasn’t asked her out, has he?” Bruce shock his head.

“No!” You threw your hands up. “The man has no game! I keep telling him to just come out with it already, but he’s so awkward…”

You both laughed, knowing full well that Bruce knew exactly what you were talking about and probably had given him similar advise.

“Hey…” you started.

Bruce looked down to you.

“Thanks… today, really was great.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I also had a great time. Since Gotham is gonna become your new home, maybe we should make it a habit to do it more…” His blue eyes were very mesmerizing, he really did make it sound tempting.

“I would like that.” You smiled. “A lot.”

The sun was just about gone at this point, the only thing helping you see each other was the little bit of stars from above.

“We should get going.” Bruce said, walking over to your side to open your door.

When you both started to head back you really got to see the night life of the city, it was really beautiful, but you knew it also lurked of danger all around.

You checked your phone to see a few text messages from Clark, all of them warnings, which definitely made you smile to yourself knowing he was looking out.

The last message he sent you wasn’t one you expected though

Just because I’m worried, doesn’t mean he isn’t a good guy. Maybe… you two could be closer, you would have someone to look out for you.. since I can’t. Just think about it.

You glanced over to Bruce, his eyes were on the road. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to have someone close by in the city who could look out for you, as long as it wasn’t a way for Clark to spy on you…

The car pulled up to your apartment. Getting out, Bruce walked behind you up to your lobby door.

You turned around to face him, “Thanks again, it was really nice to get a exclusive tour around from a local.”

Bruce’s smiled. “I enjoyed it myself, it’s been awhile since I’ve taken my time to slow down and enjoy the city.”

“Heh, slow? I don’t think you went the speed limit once.” You teased.

“Seems like more of a suggestion.”

You shook your head, looking down to hide your smile. Seeing two dress shoes come into view you looked up to see Bruce has gotten closer to you.

He was a bit intimidating looming over you in the dark like this. He wasn’t a smaller built guy, and the bright moon made him cast a dark shadow. However, his bright blue eyes could still be scene staring down at you. They were beautiful.

You cleared your throat. “Well… I should get going… thanks again.”

Suddenly remembering you were still wearing his blazer, you started to slip out of it. Handing it back to him. “You’ll need this back.”

“Looked better on you.” He teased.

You rolled your eyes, but had a smile nonetheless. “How good are you at keeping a secret?”

Bruce looked at you confused, but nodded anyway. “Pretty good.”

He watched as you took a step closer to him, standing up on your tippy toes you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. His breath hitched slightly, but he stayed completely still.

You pulled back a little making eye contact, “don’t tell Clark.” Turning around you put the key in to unlock your door. When you turned the handle you felt a hand on your arm pull you back around. The momentum took you by surprise, however the kiss that Bruce planted on you was even more surprising.

He held the sides of your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks.

You instantly closed your eyes and brought both hands up to hold onto his biceps, which were a lot bigger then the suit he was wearing made them out to be.

Bruce was the first to pull back, resting his forehead against yours, his breathing was a bit heavier. “Don’t tell Clark.”

You both laughed, standing there for a minute to compose yourself.

Bruce moved some hair that had fallen in front of your face, he leaned forward to leave one more kiss on top of your head, then taking a step away.

“I know, I probably should’ve done this before kissing you, but I’m not as good at this as the media thinks.” He took out his phone, handing it to you. “If you’re okay with it, I would like to see you again.”

You took his phone, quickly adding your contact information. “Probably wouldn’t have kissed you back if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Heh… I guess not.”

Handing the phone back to him, he put it back in his pocket.

You turned back around to open your door. “Get home safe… see you soon?”

Bruce smiled. “Absolutely.”

Then just like that, you closed the door behind you. Walking upstairs to your apartment you quickly made it inside, heading to your room you plopped yourself on the air mattress that you and Clark had set up earlier. Grabbing one of the pillows you shoved it over your face and squealed. You laughed to yourself, as you knew this was only the start of your little bit of feelings towards him.

Hearing your phone go off you discarded the pillow from your face and checked it.

Goodnight, don’t forget to lock your doors. -Bruce.

You smiled, holding your phone close to your chest you sighed out. What a great first day in Gotham…

[sleepynoons]

WONDER BY ADOY – aizen sosuke (bleach) x afab!f!reader, modern!au + arranged marriage!au, sfw

genre – angst word count – ~2,000 warnings – n/a synopsis – aizen sosuke's the heir to the largest pharmaceutical company in japan, and you're his arranged wife. but your wedding oaths mean nothing when he doesn't love you and won't even look your way. unfortunately, you can't contain these feelings of yours for much longer.

When Sosuke comes home, dinner's already prepared for him, resting on a tray at his usual seat at the dining table. All of the food is still warm, recently made in fact, and he sits to eat his dinner before he needs to go see you. As he’s eating, you’re showering, the warm water comforting against the winter cold that seeps through the walls of the house and clings to your skin. Since the beginning of your marriage, the two of you have never eaten together, aside from business events and meetings with each other’s parents.

By the time you’re in bed, dry and relaxing against the headboard with a book in your hands, Sosuke knocks on your door.

You tell him to come in.

“Sorry for interrupting. I wanted to let you know that I will return at 8 to pick you up for tomorrow’s gala.”

He shuts the door behind him, leaving you to leaf through your novel before you go to sleep, repeating his words in your head, letting his voice wash over you, until you're no longer conscious.

In the morning, you wake before him so that you can prepare him breakfast and coffee, as well as his bento for lunch. You never worry about waking Sosuke because he sleeps on the second floor, whereas you live on the first, and he is at the far end of the hallway where the noise you make in the kitchen can barely reach him. It doesn’t really matter, though, because he’s already awake, washing his face and replying to emails that have accumulated overnight. And like dinner, you retreat to your room, and Sosuke comes down to eat. You try to pick up where you left off in your book, but really, you’re straining your ear the entire time, waiting for the click of the lock as Sosuke shuts the front door behind him as he leaves for work.  

The rest of the day is also spent alone. You clean, grocery shop, and tend to the garden. Sosuke sits in meeting after meeting after meeting. But this daily monotony is cut short by the gala occurring at night.

You had received a few packages in the mail within the last week that you can finally unwrap. You drag the boxes out of your closet, and with a razor, rip through the tape with clean swipes to reveal ribboned boxes with printed anagrams and brand names. Sosuke had specifically asked you to wear this outfit, and you’re excited to see what he has chosen for you this time.

On the drive home, Sosuke is on a call with his secretary, going over the gala’s attendance list, highlighting connections he will be introduced to, existing partners and collaborators he cannot forget to greet, competitors that will try to get under his skin. When he arrives, you’re outside, and as you make yourself comfortable in your seat, he offers his compliments.

“Cream suits you.”

You reply that it's all thanks to his excellent taste.

He resumes his conversation, and you turn your cheek to look out the window. And like dinner, like breakfast, you retreat into your own mind, and Sosuke continues to work.

An hour later, the two of you arrive at the venue, a massive hotel tucked away in a mountainside. As instructed by the organizers, Sosuke pulls up to the gated entryway, where staff members come to open your doors and take the car key away to park on your behalf. 

You step out, heels gently scraping the gravel and pavement, but you do not stand until Sosuke makes his way over to your door. He holds out his hand, which you take, and once you’re up, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you slightly into his side, smiling gently as he brushes the side of your cheek with his other hand. You reflect his expression, tilting your face into his touch.

“It will be a slight walk uphill, my love.”

Shaking your head, you mumble that you can manage.

As soon as the two of you step into the lobby, in its marble-floored, chandelier lit, dark oak-accented grandeur, Sosuke is approached by several businessmen, most older and executives of their own respective companies.

“Sosuke-kun – ah, wait, not anymore! Aizen-san, how are you? And is this your wife?”

If you recall, this person seems to be the treasurer of a large chain pharmacy in Singapore.

You bow, and Sosuke shakes hands with the treasurer.

“Please, call me Sosuke, my father is still the acting president, sir. And yes, I am glad to finally acquaint you with my wife.”

These pleasantries continue throughout the rest of the night – with the COO of a lab equipment manufacturing company, three local hospital directors, a representative of another chain pharmacy, and the founders of a biotech startup from the United States. You are led by gentle tugs from one conversation to the next, introducing yourself when you're prompted, occasionally fetching a bite of food or a flute of champagne, always returning to Sosuke’s side by a loop of your arm through his.

“Sosuke is a great husband, isn’t he?”

Currently, you're at a corner in the large conference room where there are drinks and other refreshments. An older lady, in her mid-50s or so, stands next to you, as you grab a glass of water, taking care not to crease Sosuke’s blazer which you hold in your other arm. She's the wife of the dean of an elite nursing school, and you recognize her as a long-time friend of the Aizen family. Diligently, you offer the glass to her, which she takes with a slight dip of her head, and with a gesture of your hand, you compliment her knitted shawl.

“My granddaughter.”

Though you would prefer to return to Sosuke, leaving such a conversation so abruptly would indubitably damage his reputation. Instead, you inquire the lady about her granddaughter’s age, favorite hobbies, and health. She responds enthusiastically – barely five years old, enjoys knitting and origami, very healthy – before shifting the conversation back to your relationship.

“Sosuke’s always been a caring boy. He must love you.”

You chuckle behind your hand.

“I love him very much.”

By the gala’s conclusion, a fog has descended over the mountainside, ghosting down its slopes and forested ridges, as well as much of the highway leading out and towards the city.

Sosuke’s satisfied. He was able to meet the people he wanted to see, assess the relationships he’d been investigating, and schedule a few tours of factories he’d been planning to visit. Once he goes home, he can move onto next steps. He will have to shift a few meetings around for tomorrow, but they were low priority anyway. He also has to review the documents for that recent inspection that was conducted, though he highly doubts anything of concern came up. Another late night.

As usual, car rides home are quiet. There are no more calls for Sosuke to take, and when he glances at you, you’re staring out the window, hands folded over his blazer that you’ve draped over your lap, chest slowly rising and dropping with deep breaths, stuck in your own daydreams.

In reality, you’re reminiscing over your bold proclamation to the older lady. How daring, almost presumptuous of you, to so arrogantly lay claim to your feelings for Sosuke. But you’re relieved that the elder was understanding and sympathetic of your bursting emotions, and she had prayed for your relationship to last long and well.

For as long as you can remember, Sosuke has been your whole life. You partook in etiquette classes, biology and chemistry tutoring, dance lessons, flower arrangement competitions, fusui lectures ever since you were young, as was expected of the daughter of the head of the Biotechnology and Pharmaceutical Examination Division of the national Japan Patent Office. Your father managed all vaccine patents, so it was no surprise that your hand in marriage was crucial for many opportunists.

At the time, you didn’t know that your life would be dedicated to Sosuke and your role as his wife, but you dutifully listened to your father, only hoping that all of your effort would pay off. After all, hundreds of thousands of women have done it before you. No matter who your husband will be, you promised your father that you would become a wife no man would have to worry about.

In seventh grade, you were introduced to Sosuke at your omiai, though there really wasn’t much to consider. His father is the president of one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the country, and was often crossing paths with yours. There was no doubt that the two of you would get married, given the strategic business advantages and both of your inabilities to deny your parents.

Therefore, your marriage to Sosuke was speedily arranged.

Many of your girl friends growing up, all of similar class and privilege, all held a certain level of contempt or resentment. And you did, too, for a long time. But ever since you laid eyes on Sosuke – his tousled brown hair, pleasant smile, gentle eyes, sturdy frame –, you were convinced you had been blessed by the deities, presented with the best husband of a stranger anyone could ask for.

And his dignified and measured confidence has only furthered your affections for him. He only asks, never demands, when he needs something from you. He always finishes the meals, coffee, tea you prepare for him to the last bit. He brings you to business functions, like tonight’s gala, even though you know he’s busy and doesn’t need to.

You shake your head, releasing a soft sigh. It must be that one extra sip of alcohol you had, because your audacity seems to have no end. In your mind, you apologize to the older lady for what you’re about to do, for wasting her genuine blessings and wishes.

You’re almost home, car changing into the left lane and crossing onto the small bridge that leads into the residential area where the two of you live. The fog has made its way here, too, settling as a layer atop the water and mugging the streetlights lining the sidewalk. The weather forecast mentioned something about it snowing over the weekend.

“Stop the car.”

With a quick check in the rearview mirror, Sosuke pulls to the side.

“Is something wrong?”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab the door handle to let yourself out.

Sosuke glances at the clock on the dashboard.

You step out, swaying slightly in your heels before regaining balance, and walk over to the rail of the bridge. The water's dark, and you wonder if anything can survive in the icy, rapid currents underneath.

Deep down, you know Sosuke only calls you his wife in front of others. The two of you haven’t embraced each other either, not even the night of your marriage. His secretary doesn’t come to distract you with lavish gifts or day trips. Sosuke doesn’t even look your way unless absolutely necessary.

Turning around, you walk back. You catch him checking the time again before he looks up at you.

You exhale, watching the snowy puff of your breath separate and dissipate.

“Sosuke, you’re very kind.”

“Are you cold?”

“I met your family friend, and she asked if you loved me.”

“I see. We should head home.”

“I love you.”

Silence.

“You go first. I will be back soon.”

You shut the door, and for a second, through the tinted windows, you can make out the harsh look in his eyes. He stares at you for a few brief moments before he pulls away, and you watch until the crunch of the road underneath the tires and the beam of the tail lights are no longer so distinct, so stark, in contrast to the still haze, the dark waters below, the steeled grip you have on his blazer.

winter event masterlist

[scoutswritingcorner]

The Hotel

Charlie Morningstar x GN!Reader

HORROR.

TW: THIS IS A HORROR STORY- IT HAS DARK THEMES. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT, DO NOT READ IT. Uncanny Valley effect, there is no good ending, Lost media kinda deal. Body horror.

A/N: I’ve been watching too much lost media/analog horror type of stuff for my own good.  ENJOY~

You are an Urban Explorer who has a very popular channel. You got word of this old Hotel that’s supposedly haunted but you're more interested in how it looks on the inside. Turns out to be your final resting place.

~~

You pulled to a stop in the wooded area near the desolate town, quickly turning your vans lights off and pulling the keys out of the ignition as a police car slowly drove by as you snuck into the back of the van pulling your bag closer and making sure that you had everything. Strapping the small hidden camera to your chest before pulling out your phone and starting the livestream, your viewers slowly start to trickle in as you patiently wait for the cops to stop roaming around where your car is, too afraid to say something. But you slowly take a deep breath and collect your things, trying to make sure if you needed to run or climb over anything nothing would be holding you down.

Slowly pulling the duffle bag over your shoulder, you checked your phone once more before quickly turning off any sound notifications that could get you caught and sent one last text to your roommate and dad, before putting it away and into your pocket as you carefully left the comfort of your own vehicle. You locked and closed your van before slowly and carefully making your way towards the silent town, weaving through alleyways as you dodge the police and making your way towards the brightly lit hotel that sat on top of the hill. “..sorry for not talking to you guys, I don’t want to be caught” You whispered out as you quickly walked up the hill, trying to stay away from the bright lights of the path leading towards the hotel itself. You’ll check your phone once you get inside.

As you get to the front door of the hotel, you send a glance back towards the city to see the cops still patrolling the town, it wasn’t worth going back down, you were so close to what you’ve been dreaming about for months…but..you never knew about this place…why did you dream about it? You slowly opened the door expecting to be greeted by ruined furniture, walls lined with graffiti, broken things strewn around and nature reclaiming what was left of this hotel but..it looked brand new…well except for the tech stuff that looked like it came out of a 1980’s catalog…this was weird. First the townspeople were basically hostile towards you and when you asked about the hotel they shut down, some even pulling a weapon on you. 

You closed the door behind you, fixing your jacket as you took a step forward the scent of a freshly smoked cigar hit you as if you walked through a cloud of it. You looked around, stepping further into the hotel to your left was a bar with an assortment of liquor on the wall behind it, to your right was what looked like to be the foyer. 

“Oh! Hello!” A voice called from behind you making you jump and turn around dropping your bag on the floor. You cursed yourself and hoped your equipment wasn’t damaged. “H-Hi..I thought this place was abandoned..” you replied smiling, something felt off about her but you couldn’t seem to figure out what. “Oh no silly!~ Most of them are already asleep in their own rooms or just busy!” A sense of comfort washing over you as jazz starts playing down the hall causing you to look away from her. Unaware of her eyes snapped down to the camera strapped to your chest and her smile grew wider.

“Someone..awake?” You asked, looking back at her and crouching down to grab your duffel bag. “Oh yes! That would be the hotelier, he likes to listen to jazz as he works. It won’t bother you will it?” She asked and you shook your head watching as she looked around, “give me one moment okay?” She asked turning to head into an office…was that always there? You looked down and quickly checked your phone to see it was 3:30 am?? It just turned 12:00 when you left your Van, that didn’t seem right. Looking up as she walked back over and quickly getting you a room, her smile grew as she handed you the key, “If you need anything else don’t be afraid to call down to the front desk!~” She called after you, smirking as you unknowingly sealed your fate.

You looked down at the key, the room number '204' staring back at you. It wouldn’t hurt to stay the night, it beats sleeping in your van than anything. Sleeping on a bed will do wonders to your back too! As you went up the stairs, it seemed someone rushed past you with a sweet smelling perfume which made you do a double take..no one walked past you? You stopped and looked around before continuing up the stairs..that was strange.

It didn’t take you long to find your room and get set up for the night, as you looked around it had occurred to you that something about this place felt..off. The spear above your bed was certainly off putting, was it real or fake? You placed your bag down onto the bed, opening it up fast to make sure you didn’t break anything.

~~~

It’s been days since you’ve been at this hotel, at first you thought you were there for that single night but you haven’t. The footsteps got louder but now it was someone knocking on your door and a pile of dead bugs littered at your door. You started the camera that sat patiently on the desk in front of your bed, the red light on it slowly flashed as it began to record. A sinking feeling sat in the pit of your stomach as you stared back at yourself in the mirror..when did you become so sickly looking? Quickly you packed up, shook your head and grabbed the key to your room, “Just in case,” you whispered out “Just in case.”

You slowly made your way to the door ignoring the literal mountain of bugs next to your bathroom door. You slowly opened your bedroom door and peeked out seeing..no one. No one was around yet there was a distinct smell of that perfume that lingered way too long on the staircase. Another difference was that the lights were off and the wallpaper started to peel like the hotel was left abandoned for decades. A soft and distorted tune started to echo around the empty hotel, you moved to the railing of the gigantic staircase and slowly made your way down throwing the bag over your shoulder as you tried to ignore the creepy distorted music and creaking stairs.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs you slowly and carefully started to walk towards the front desk placing the room key on its surface before moving towards the front doors themself.  Your hand wrapped around the golden door handles as you moved to open the doors..but they wouldn’t budge. How were they locked, you couldn’t be locked in here without anyone knowing. 

“Leaving so soon?” A distorted voice called out as you slowly turned around, facing the woman you met a few nights ago. But something was wrong, her face looked..too human- too unnatural. “Oh uh..yeah..I have to go.” You said trying to ignore how suddenly it felt like there were a million eyes on you, your breath hitched in your throat as the lady's bones snapped and reformed into longer limbs and horns protruded from her head. “Why don’t you stay just a little bit longer?” she asked but her mouth didn’t move as if someone was pulling the strings..giving her a voice to use. You looked around her, trying to see if there was a way to get past her and back to your room safely. 

You shook your head watching the hotel fall into disrepair in front of your very eyes. You took one last deep breath before throwing yourself into a sprint down the hallway and up the flight of stairs, a loud inhuman roar echoed through the hotel as you tried to open one of the many emergency exits. It was locked just like the front door, you silently cursed to yourself and made your way to the staircase to go higher up. Your legs and lungs started to burn as the once comforting smell of the perfume turned sour as something ran into your legs knocking you face first into the flight of stairs.

A sickening crack echoed through your head, you grabbed your camera and climbed up the steps as blood coated your tongue and dripped onto the old mold covered shag carpets. Throwing the bag down you forced yourself to keep running up the million flights of stairs this fucked up hotel had. You couldn’t look back and you couldn’t stop, if you stopped you would die. She knew where you were and she wouldn’t stop until she got you.

You slammed onto the fire exit door at the top of the stairs..once..twice..she was getting closer. That foul lingering smell wafted through your broken nose and it made you gag loudly as you looked down to see her staring back at you. Body visibly mutilated as her sunken eyes glared up at you, drool dripping from her maw. You slammed into the door and fell onto the roof as she stalked closer and closer to you- her prey. You scrambled to get up but stopped to see a large red pentagram that outlined the city.

You didn’t stare for long as long black claws wrapped around your ankle, digging into flesh and shattering bone as it dragged you back into the hotel. Your chin hit the ground as you tried to claw and beg whatever god was there to help you. The camera you were holding shattering upon impact as the door slammed shut behind you and your screams were forever silenced.

A/N: SORRY IF THIS FEELS RUSHED- I kinda did rush it cause I wanted to get this out to you lovely people. But I hope you enjoyed it and Happy Pride month!~

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Don't Get Attached | Part 2

➪ Playlist (Spotify)

➪ W/c: 1137

No Strings Attached

I’m not sure what you would call what Jungkook and I are. Friends? Lovers? Friends with benefits, maybe? Labels are confusing, but as far as people around us are concerned, we are “dating”. If you consider physical attraction dating then whatever floats your boat I guess. The thing is that neither of us is seeking any other source of attraction, or even if we were then it’s clear that neither of us is willing to showcase it. Jungkook is the type to never have heard the word “no” so it’s easy for him to get what he wants. And currently, his fixation has been me, specifically the chemistry between us. But, I’m not the type to be played around with either, so with two strong-headed players it’s difficult to highlight the whole picture without missing the small details. Thus, we keep each other in place, allowing only surface affection to prevent deep-rooted emotional damage. Don’t get attached y/n.

--

Checking my watch for the tenth time, I shiver in my little jean jacket as the cashier at the ticket kiosk announces the final show times before closing. See, Jungkook and I planned to watch the new Spider-Man movie together, but the only problem is that he is nowhere to be found. Each one of my attempts at calling him goes straight to voicemail. Has he forgotten about our date? Not very on brand of him but maybe something has come up, so I decide to text him instead. 

y/n: Hey, where are you? The theatre closes in about 45 minutes. Are you ok? Please call me. 

No reply. Very strange. Actually, what’s more strange is the fact that his location has been turned off for the past 2 hours. Trying really hard not to go into a manic episode I focus on some deep breathing before succumbing to the sharp pain in my chest. Although my brain is telling me to stay calm, the heart never lies, right? Following my own delusion, I decided to stop by his apartment as there are a plethora of places Jungkook could be at right now, but this one just feels like a good start. 

“Thank you,” I say to the taxi driver before making my way towards Jungkook’s apartment complex. It’s now about 11 pm, so the streets are quiet. As the elevator doors close, the sharp feeling in my chest intensifies making it hard to breathe. Nonetheless, I shake away the nerves and knock on his front door. No one answers, so I try again before using the spare key he gave me to “keep just in case I missed him at night”. 

As the door slowly opens, my eyes scan the room for any signs of Jungkook. Although nothing was out of the ordinary, there was a sweet smell of cherry blossom lingering in the air, which did strike me as a surprise since he is more of a vanilla-scent type of guy. But, people change I guess, so I lock the door behind me before tiptoeing towards his bedroom. 

“Jungkook hurry, I miss you,” a woman's voice echoes behind the bedroom door before it swings open. My mouth slightly drops at the sight of a half-naked redhead who seems to be just as confused as I am. 

“Who are you?” she snaps, eying me up and down before turning her head towards the bathroom where Jungkook was currently in. I abrupt her attempt at getting his attention by pulling her out of the bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind me. 

“I … I just needed to drop off something, but now I see that it's not the best time so I'll just head out. Umm, no need to tell Jungkook,” words stutter out of my mouth as my body begins to fuel with adrenaline from the sudden rush of emotions. Folding her hands in front of her chest, the redhead watches me rush out of the apartment before turning her attention back to Jungkook whose wet hair was dripping down his exposed chest. 

“Who was that?” 

“Some girl, she said she needed to drop something off …” 

“Fuck y/n was here? Why didn’t you call me?” he snaps harshly, putting on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie over his freshly washed body before rushing out the door. 

The corridor towards the elevator seemed to never end as my steps got faster and my breathing slower. Pressing the 1st-floor button, my body finally gave in as I leaned back on the cold wall before resting my head. Looking at my reflection I can feel my eyes water, pathetic really. I told you not to get attached y/n. What did you expect from a relationship with no strings attached? 

Before my subconscious could answer, the inner dialogue was interrupted by Jungkook, whose tattooed arm was now holding back the elevator door from closing. Quickly wiping the tears from my face I move to the other side as he stumbles inside. 

“Y/n …” he lets out, voice raspy and deep. Turning on the emergency button, he turns his face towards me as the elevator halts. Feeling as if time had stopped completely, our bodies were still, eyes locked on each other. 

“Y/n, please let me explain,” Jungkook whispers, reaching out his hands before I push them away. 

“No need, I totally get it,” I snap, trying to maintain my composure as my throat tightens. Holding back the tears in my eyes I bite down on my lip, reaching out to press the 1st floor button again before I'm inches away from Jungkook's chest as his broad shoulders tower over my form. As my back hits the wall, goosebumps rise all over my skin from the sudden cold sensation. 

“Jungkook, move or else I'll scream,” 

“Do it. Scream, yell, I don't care, just please don't leave like this,” he says softly, pressing his forehead on mine as the scent of his body wash fills the small space between us. 

“What do you want me to do? Dance? Do you want me to skip from joy upon seeing a half-naked woman in your apartment? Huh?” I yell at him, unable to control the tone in my voice any longer. Trying to push myself out of his grip I gasp for air as my throat tightens again. 

“Shhh y/n please, you need to calm down,” Jungkook sighs, caressing the palms of my hands before meeting my teary eyes. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, in fact, don’t ever talk to me again. Forget we ever happened. Here …” I scoff, placing the spare key into his hand before finally reaching for the 1st-floor button. As the elevator gets back in motion, his grip loosens but doesn’t let go completely. 

“Hope she was worth it,”

Previous l Next

[thetriplets3]

❝𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮❞

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ⋆｡⋆

{𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫}

when chris cares about someone he will go to the end of the earth to make sure they’re okay. sure he can be goofy and childlike but he’s got a heart of gold, wanting to make sure everyone is taken care of before himself. that’s what i love about him, which is why he was the first one to notice i was sick.

the triplets and i had planned to go to the flea market in town at 2 but when chris hadn’t hear from me by 1:30 he called me to make sure i didn’t forget.

“hey are you ready yet? we’re leaving soon”

“hi uh no i woke up this morning feeling like i’ve been run over by multiple trains i feel like shit so not i can’t go” i croak.

“why didn’t you tell me earlier? i could have come by”

“i slept like crap because everything hurts to move and breathe so i stayed in bed hoping i’d fall asleep and that you guys would forget about the flea market because i felt bad for ruining the plans”

“forget the flea market it’s literally every week you don’t need to feel bad. you come first. i’m coming over and no i don’t care if i get sick i drink so many Pepsi’s a day if that hasn’t done anything to me getting a cold is nothing. i’m coming over whether you like it or not”

“fine. can you please tell matt and nick i’m sorry and that i’ll make it up to them. they are so excited for us to go”

“you don’t have to apologize i’ll tell them your sick, they’ll understand. they can still go if they want”

“if you say so. doors locked so use your key i’m gonna try to sleep” my voice trails off.

“i’ll see you soon i just gotta do a few things first, get some sleep”

chris pov:

2:23pm

walking upstairs i find matt on the sofa ready to leave.

“i just called y/n to see if she was ready but she got called into work someone didn’t show up for their shift. she said to tell you guys she’s sorry she didn’t tell us earlier her morning was hectic trying to leave last minute, she felt bad”

“that’s okay we can go next week. did you and nick wanna still go?”

“i’d rather wait til we all can go. if that’s cool?”

“of course, i’ll let nick know”

while matt heads upstairs to talk to nick i sit on the couch and think about what excuse i can make to get out of the house without them coming. sending a text in our groupchat i send an excuse.

i’m gonna go shoot some more photos for the new fresh love drop with brandon (aka gwhip333)

cool, you need a ride?

nah i’m good i can uber

when they model each others brand 😩

bro you’re weird

i’ll probably be back later tonight we’ll probably order food so don’t worry about me

we always worry about you, you’re a very concerning person

aw under that cold exterior you care about me, how sweet. i’m leaving

and with that i was on my way to her house without nick and matt knowing. i didn’t tell them because i know she hates being the center of attention and the last thing she wants is for 3 people to loom over her making sure she’s okay. so i’m going alone.

readers pov:

the rustling in the kitchen causes me to wake up for a second before realizing it’s probably chris, a burglar would make more of an attempt to be quiet. pulling my duvet up to my chin, i’m out like a light. i’m gently woken by chris. he knows better than anyone to wake me up gently and carefully.

he learned that the hard way.

he walked in my room one day, climbed in my bed, and made himself comfortable. being a fairly heavy sleeper, i didn’t hear or feel him come in. i rolled over in my sleep, i was met with a body. my natural instinct, in my half asleep state, was to smack and flail at whatever was in my reach. which happened to be chris’ face. hearing i’m yelp and call my name i woke up in seconds.

“what the fuck chris?! why would you sneak in here when i’m sleeping are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“i was gonna wake you up in few minutes, you just looked so peaceful i didn’t want to disturb you, i didn’t know trying to be nice was gonna get me bitch smacked” he grumbled.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to hit you i was scared” my voice small, yet filled with guilt and concern. “you can’t sneak up on me like that”

“i should have expected that to happen” he laughed.

sitting up, i grab ahold of his chin gently turning it to the side i smacked.

a sad sigh escapes my lips “i left a mark” i frown.

“don’t worry about it it doesn’t hurt, i kinda deserved it” he reassures me.

“you kinda did” i laughed.

so now chris knows to not be so silent when waking me up. he sits beside me on my bed and starts quietly talking to me, slowly getting a little louder when he sees me stir. like a feather, his fingers delicately graze my cheeks, making their way to my knotted hair, tucking the stray, sweat soaked pieces out of my face.

my eyes flutter open, promptly squeezing shut as the brightness hits my eyes. groaning, for multiple reasons; being woken up, the brightness, and suddenly feeling all the aches and pains. i nudge my head towards chris’ hand on my cheek, enjoying his warmth and touch.

“well hello you ball of germs” he lovingly joked.

all i can do is glare at him however pain and misery are evident in my appearance. my forehead creased from the crushing pressure in my head, my limbs tight and scrunched from the aches and pains shooting through my body, and a frown replacing my usual smile.

“i’m not gonna bother asking how you feel because i already know the answer so i’ll skip to is there anything i can do for you?”

“i don’t know. uh maybe the heat pack? everything hurts so much” i tear up.

with a swipe of my stray tears and a quick "I'll be right back" he's off scouring my apartment. within minutes he’s back, plugging in the heat pack before getting in bed and leaning against the headboard. not only did he come back with the heat pack, he also came bearing a CVS bag.

“okay i’ve got cold meds, cough lozenges, fuzzy socks because i know you love them, your favorite soup, voltaren to put on where your achey, fruit snacks to munch on, tissues obviously, and this little penguin stuffy i couldn’t leave with out it” he explains in a hushed tone.

“thank you chris, you didn’t have to”

“i know but i wanted to, i wanna take care of you. you’re always there for me so whatever you need i’m here. now come cuddle you need sleep”

snuggling up to chris with my head on his chest and my arm draped across his body clutching his shirt. he wraps his arms securely around me. one hand holding the heat pack against my back and the other massaging my scalp, both helping my headache and making me sleepy.

i wake up confused when chris isn’t beside me but the rattling and banging in the kitchen answered any questions i had. slowly but surely i make my way to the bathroom. as i’m leaving i hear my phone ding. a text from matt reads,

hey kid how’s it going? i know you were looking forward to the flea market we’ll all go next week

i’m slowly rotting away in bed i feel like i’ve been run over been a bus. you guys could have gone without me but thank you for waiting to go with me

3rd person pov:

it’s then that matt realizes he’s been told 2 different stories. chris said y/n couldn’t go because she got called into work and y/n just told him she’s sick. immediately he knows who’s telling the truth because y/n wouldn’t lie, she’s too honest for her own good. not mentioning this mix up to y/n he tells her he hopes she feels better and to call him if she needs anything.

matt can’t help but smirk. he caught his younger brother in a lie that showed him everything he needed to know to confirm his suspicions. matt knew from the start that something was off with chris’ story because brandon was in NY for the week. both matt and nick knew something weird was going on but they needed chris to get himself caught in a lie to know if they were right.

chris’ pov:

i stood over the counter carefully watching the soup cook not wanting to burn it. just as i turn the heat down, my phone buzzes in my pocket. it’s a text from nick,

how’s shooting going? matt and i miss brandon tell him we need to hang out together soon

my breath hitches, i need to keep my lie going.

good these are turning out dope i can’t wait to see the final version. he was just saying that earlier we’ll plan something

your pov:

i muster up the energy to take a shower and wash my hair just not to the extent to normal would. over the sound of the cascading water i think i heard a knock but it’s heard to tell. it could be chris destroying my kitchen.

i get changed into one of chris’ hoodies i borrowed a while ago and never gave back and a pair of sweats. towel drying my hair i try to soak up as much water as i can, hating hating the feeling of wet hair. feeling my stomach grumble i follow the smell of soup to the kitchen only to be met with nick and matt sitting across from chris having some silent triplet conversation.

“hi what’s going on?” my voice hoarse.

chris’ pov:

sitting atop the counter beside the stove so i can keep an eye on the soup, i play games on my phone waiting for y/n to finish in the shower. a soft knock on the front door catches my attention. opening the front door, assuming it was a delivery driver dropping off a package, i’m surprised to see matt and nick. i probably look just as confused as they do. they make their way in and we settle on the couch, i feel like a kid about to get in trouble.

“dude why’d you make up a lie you could have told us you were coming to take care of her which might i add is a very boyfriend thing to do”

“i just- i wanted to come and take care of her, that’s not a boyfriend thing it’s called i care about her, i want to make sure she’s okay and that i can help her out if she needs it”

“yeah sure whatever but alone? that’s the weird part. why can’t you just admit you like her?”

“okay fine i do! i wanted to hang out with her without you buffoons there. i want to take care of her, make sure she’s okay. i love seeing this soft, gentle, affectionate side of her. i love being the first person she calls when she wants help or is having a bad day and just wants my company.i love being with her and these moments don’t happen when you bozos interfere”

“we already knew your undying love for her. the way you drop everything when it comes to her. your heart eyes are so obvious. how affectionate, gentle, and calm you are with her. you know when we’re out in a group or crowd i always catch you searching for her, smiling when you spot her, knowing she’s safe. when she’s around, she’s the only person in the room to you”

a little stunned that he knew all that but i kinda expected that from him. i have nothing to say so i just nod, agreeing with him.

the creaking floor board directs my attention to the stairs, y/n’s come up for lunch. matt, nick, and i look back and forth between each other. i know they’re wanting me to say something to her about how i feel but now isn’t the time.

“hi what’s going on?” her voice is scratchy.

nick and matt say their hellos as i get up leaving to talk to each other while i go meet y/n in the kitchen.

“how ya feeling? did the shower help?”

“a little, i’m still achey and in pain, my head hurts, and i’m tired. can you come cuddle?”

her beautiful blue eyes looking up at me, silently pleading, i can’t say no to that. “here, go have some soup in bed and i’ll be there in a second okay?”

your pov:

i carefully take the warm bowl of soup downstairs to my bed, eating it while i wait for chris. 5 minutes later, my door slowly cracks open to reveal chris with a soft smile adorning his face.

“i’m all yours now. let’s cuddle but first let me put the voltaren on that’ll help your aches. where’s it hurt?”

“um uh my-my back and neck mainly” i stumble over my words knowing you’ll be putting it on my back. very intimate action.

laying on my stomach without my head to the side, duvet cover pulled back, chris sits beside me pulling my oversized shirt up so he can access my back and starts putting the lotion on. once he’s done he makes his way under the covers letting me rest my head on his chest. his cologne brings me comfort just like the feeling of my hand gently massaging my back as he holds me.

“thank you for taking care of me. you’re so good to me.” no one has ever cared for me the way chris does. he’s shown me what it’s like to be loved.

“i’d do anything for you, you know that. i love taking care of you, moments like this are my favorite. now get some sleep i’m not going anywhere.

“i love you”

“i love you sweet girl”

little did they both know, they actually meant it.

thank you @abbie13sworld for giving me this request

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld

[testingthewatersss]

Blizzard Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Oneshot 2240 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

You’re supposed to be home by now, but then again, the weather’s hardly been on your side.

His lip is bleeding.

He’s been picking at the chapped skin with his teeth while he waits.

The taste of iron is almost comforting in it’s familiarity. So, he thinks grimly, is the cold.

His body wants to shiver. The hairs on his flesh arm are standing on end, under the SHEILD branded sweatshirt he’s wearing but he knows better than to give in to the reflex.

He knows that once he’s let himself start, he won’t be able to stop. He knows it’s a bad move to make when he’s still physically capable of fighting it.

At least the snow is soft.

It’s soft as it floats down, landing in his hair. Or his lap. Or his boots.

His boots.

He looks down at them and is unsurprised to see that they’re totally buried now. He considers moving them, but decides that might be a mistake as well.

Better to not move at all.

He sees a burst of white air leave his lips, and curses himself for it.

Pull it together, he commands internally, in and out, in and out-

Shallow breathing is better. It’s less painful, it draws less attention.

“Bucky?!”

His head snaps sidewards, panic flaring at the use of his name;

“Jesus christ!” Y/N hisses, running towards him, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“W-waiting” he answers, voice cracking from disuse, “W-aiting for you”

“Waiting for me?!” she repeats, horror mixing with hysteria as she drinks in the sight of him-

The sight of him outside in a blizzard, perched on the wall, covered in snow.

“What the fuck” she gasps, reaching out a gloved hand to brush white from his shoulder, “Bucky, it’s freezing!”

He hadn’t wanted to worry her. He bites at his lip again as guilt settles heavily into his chest.

“How long have you been out here?!” she asks, still disbelieving, “I told you I’d call you when I got home!”

He’s like a statue. If she hadn’t been so aware of her surroundings and the way they usually appear she might have mistaken him for part of the scenery.

“Shit” she says, urgency creeping into her tone, “C’mon, stand up”

He looks up at her, shifting his posture for the first time in hours. His neck is tight. It hurts, but he hides his grimace by locking his jaw.

That also serves to stop his teeth from chattering, so he takes it as a win.

“Sweetheart” Y/N sighs, altering her approach and letting her fingers drift up to his cheek instead, “C-”

“I… I was waitin’ f-for you” he cuts in, trying to justify his position- “I- I needed to see you come home”

She nods, curling her woollen clad fingers stroke his jaw-

“I’m here” she tells him, “I’m home, okay? Come inside with me?”

She’s here, Bucky thinks, she’s home, and now I’m going to go inside with her.

It’s like his mind has been frozen by the blizzard. His thoughts are slow and mechanical.

Still, when Y/N reaches down to take his hand, he curls his fingers around hers, and when she moves back, urging him to stand, he does.

That hurts. Standing after being in one set position for so long.

His legs ache. His back aches. God, he thinks, testing an unsteady step, his whole body aches.

His feet are heavy. He wonders if that’s just because of the snow covering the boots.

The door to her apartment complex swings open, and then they’re making their way up to her suite.

Bucky is silent, clutching her hand and following as she climbs the wooden staircase, trying to match her pace with his.

And then she’s fumbling with her door key. Her gloved hand is clumsy, and she’s only got the one free, because Bucky is still holding the other and she has no intention of being the first to let go.

Frustration causes her to just give in and push at the door with an exasperated huff.

To her surprise, it swings open without any resistance.

That’s not good.

That’s very not good.

She looks inside suspiciously, noticing that her lights are on, when she had very deliberately turned them off when she’d left three days ago-

“Buck-” she goes to say, and then, she sees it.

The keychain hanging from the inside her lock, key still lodged inside.

It’s instantly recognisable. It’s the Captain America’s Shield one that she’d bought Bucky over a month ago.

So you won’t lose it.

Of course, she thinks, He has a key, of course he’d have let himself in.

So why the hell did he leave? why the hell did he decide to wait for her outside in a blizzard?

She decides not to ask. Not yet, anyway.

“Okay” she murmurs, leading him inside, “C’mon, I’ll run you a bath, okay?”

“Doll-“

but she’s already gone.

Her fingers have slipped out from his, and she’s already half way to her bedroom-

“Shit”

She’s starring at her wardrobe. At the messy gauge that’s been dug out of the wood by something that looks suspiciously like a shoulder.

A metal shoulder, maybe.

After a quick survey of the rest of her room, she moves swiftly to the bathroom, where she sets about her task of starting the water running into the tub;

Steam fills the air almost instantly. She peels her gloves off, and removes her coat, taking a few minutes to observe herself before redirecting her attention to the problem at hand.

Well, the mystery at hand, anyway.

Nothing else in her room is damaged, so that rules out the likelihood of a fight.

So does the way he'd been so calmly waiting for her on her doorstep. He wouldn't have let her within a hundred miles of her building if he’d have been fighting someone inside it.

No. That’s not it.

Her head snaps up when she hears his footsteps. She sees him watching her nervously from the entry way to her room-

With a gun in his hands.

It's his gun. It’s the pistol he carries in his inside pocket.

Her head tilts, but before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s moving, holding it out more obviously for her to take;

“Please?” he whispers, voice cracking again, “T-take it”

So she does.

She takes it, tucking it into the back of her waist band so that both of her hands can stay free.

“Come on” Bucky hears her prompt, “You go have that bath now, okay? I’m going to make some calls.”

He’s still covered in snow. Half of it is melting, making his clothes heavy and saturated in cold water.

A bath sounds reasonable. The sound of the water rushing into the basin is pleasant too.

He thinks it sounds nice, and as he starts to walk towards it, he finds himself wondering why he she isn’t joining him.

Usually she will.

Usually, the pair will spend hours together, soaking in warm water, enjoying the closeness- but, no.

Bucky blinks and finds himself alone in her bathroom, starring at his own reflection from the rippling surface of the water.

For a second, he sees The Solider starring back at him.

He flinches, and a flurry of snow falls down from the now matted lengths of his hair.

Oh, god.

He looks awful. No wonder she’d sent him away.

That realisation hits him like a bullet.

He tries his best to force the self deprecating thoughts that it breeds away so that he can undress himself and get into the tub without crying.

She wants you to get into the bath, he thinks, she ran it and told you to get in- she’s making some calls. She’s home now anyway- she’s safe. You gave her your gun. She’s safe. She’s home and she’s safe-

“When did he leave?” Y/N asks, leaning against her kitchen counter, “Steve- I want to know how long he’s been sitting outside in a cat-3 storm!”

“I don’t know exactly” he replies, voice crackling through her cell phone, “he left for your place after the briefing this morning, but he called me at three and said everything was fine- I haven’t heard from him since”

She signs, frustrated but understanding.

“I just can’t figure it out” she admits, “I don’t know why he didn’t stay inside? He was obviously in here”

“I’m sorry” Steve says, “I should’ve told him to stay here-“

“-No” she cuts in, “-that wouldn’t have helped, I just- I don’t know, I just hate seeing him like that y’know? He must’ve been freezing”

“I can always swing by?”

She considers his offer for a moment. Eyes flicking to the clock on her display.

22:28

“No” she sighs, “No, we’ll be fine, I’ll take care of it- I don’t know- I just thought he might’ve called you or something”

They exchange polite goodbyes and she tells him again not to worry. That Bucky is fine and he agrees, saying that he knows she’ll take good care of him.

That seems almost comical considering how she’s practically abandoned him in her panic, but still she thinks it’s better late than never.

Food, she decides- Warm food and clean, dry clothes.

That’s what he needs.

She heats up a pan on the stove and fills it with soup. She sets it to simmer and places the gun he’d given her earlier in the drawer where she keeps the napkins.

It’s not like I’ll need it.

And then she heads back towards the bed room. Taking a moment to listen for any sounds coming from the bathroom.

There aren’t any, so she goes into her damaged closet, ignoring the creak of protest from the door as she pulls out a spare set of sweats for him to change into. There’s a dry shirt too, and a sweater so she gathers those as well, before rummaging around her room to collect socks and a fresh set of towels.

She leaves the clothes on her bed, carrying only the towels as she walks into the bathroom.

Seeing him in the tub shouldn’t surprise her, not when that’s exactly what she’d asked him to do, but there’s something about the unnaturalness of his position that makes her double take.

He’s stiff, sitting upright against the back of the porcelain fixture with a look of fierce concentration on his face.

And he’s red.

He’s bright red.

“Oh, god” she whispers, mainly to herself, “Are you alright?”

He doesn’t seem to notice her appearance in the room. Not until she’s crouching by the tub, towels abandoned by her knees.

“Bucky” she says, more firmly now, “Are you alright?”

He hadn’t answered her before. He hadn’t even blinked.

Now, though, at least he’s looking at her.

“I- I’m fine” he says, voice still not quite right, “I-It’s just w-warm and- I- I wasn’t.”

That makes sense. He’d been outside in the snow for god knows how long, and then he’d barely had ten minutes inside before he’d gotten into a steaming hot bath.

Of course he’s red, she thinks, annoyed at herself for missing it, He must be burning up-

“Does it hurt?” she asks worriedly, “I can cool it down a little?”

His head shakes a fraction, but Y/N isn’t convinced. She dips her fingers into the water, and opens her mouth to once again suggest adding some cold water, but before she can get the words out, Bucky does something that silences her instantly;

He reaches out and holds onto her hand.

And that’s when she sees it.

She sees the look on his face, and her heart cracks, right down the middle.

“I missed you too” she promises, squeezing his fingers, “Bucky, look at me-”

and he does.

His eyes snap to hers, and she feels her whole chest aching when she realises how full they are;

“I’m home” she says, “I’m here, I’m right here, okay?”

He exhales slowly, breath mixing with the steam that’s still swirling around his face.

“I- I j-just wanted to see you c-come back” he whispers

“I know” she says, bringing her other hand up to cup his face, ���That’s alright. Are you warmin’ up?”

He nods, leaning into her palm as it settles against his cheek.

His whole body stings. He knows that it’s just the water doing its job and heating him up, but still— it hurts.

It hurts, and Y/N is his comfort.

She’s always been his comfort.

“God, Buck” she murmurs, relenting to the way that he’s leaning into her touch so obviously, “You scared me”

“I’m sorry” he says instantly, “I- I didn’t mean to”

“I know” she allows, running her thumb across the soft skin under his eye, “I just don’t know what you were thinkin- waitin’ out there in the snow… Bucky it’s so cold out-“

“I j-just w-wanted to s-see you” he says again, more lamely than before.

This time, she just shakes her head.

Now’s not the time to hash this out. That much is obvious, so she decides not to try.

“Well” she says softly, “I’m right here— Hi”

Bucky blinks, watching as Y/N beams at him in greeting.

“Hey” he replies softly, suddenly feeling strangely small, “Hey doll…”

She leans in and presses a soft kiss against his brow, smoothing his now soaked hair back with the hand he’s not still holding.

“When you’re done in here, I’ve made dinner, okay?- I’ve left some dry clothes on the bed”

Masterlist

[psychogirlfriendandsupervillain]

Walk of Shame Pride

Benny Watts x Genderneutral!Reader (at least I tried to make them readable as any gender)

Content warnings: Flirting, 18+, smut, dirty talk, constant switching between sexual tension and sarcastic flirting because it’s my brand now apparently, unnecessary lore. 

Disclaimer: I don’t live in New York, have never been in New York, Google maps and random generators are what you get ok? I also had already started writing this before watching the two last episodes and so refuse to change his apartment to be accurate in this either. I might next time.

Summary: You leave one hookup and find yourself invited to another.

Word count: Looking like it’s gonna be 2k. (It is not.) 4k

A/N: Clearly I feel some type of way about Benny Watts. Inspired by deciding to pull up Walkashame by Meghan Trainor and Walk of Shame by P!nk (which is like my favorite) while thinking about Benny.

It’s five to seven when Benny pulls on his coat and unlocks the door to his apartment. The rest of the house lay quiet, not too surprising for a Saturday morning. As he puts the key back in the lock a door slams a bit further down the too-bright corridor, catching his attention.

Looking over his shoulder he sees someone standing with their hand still on the handle, hooking the other shoe on their foot. They’re far too dressed up for this time of day, but Benny also doesn’t think they’re dressed for the office. What was probably adjusted to perfection the night before now hangs uneven, covered in wrinkles, bunching up in several places.

Benny’s eyes flicker up to their face as they start heading down the corridor in his direction. He can’t tell if the traces of makeup are from the start of the night or the end, maybe somewhere in between. There are signs of a sleepless night around their eyes and they look…not tired, but like they had a fun night, a self-satisfied smile resting easy on their lips. They run a hand over their head, and Benny feels entirely too warmly dressed. The heat only gets worse as they come three, two, one door away, and as they pass him, he can’t help himself.

“Fun night?” His voice is nonchalant and steadier than his pulse when he glances over his other shoulder, watching them stop a few feet away. Then they turn around and his heartbeat almost drowns out your words as you smile, undaunted.

“Yeah, it was.” You don’t know why anyone would be up at this hour on a weekend, much less dressed and heading out. He’s wearing a leather coat and a hat which would make him blend in as an extra in a western movie, although the dark color palette lends itself more to him being cast as the outlaw. “How was yours?”

“I thought it was good then” He matches your smile, and even at this distance you can see his dark eyes sparkle. “but now I’m starting to think I missed out on something. Whoever you just came from has my night beat.”

You open your mouth with an amused frown, taking a second before responding.

“Don’t you have a job to go to? Where else are you going so early?”

He raises his eyebrows with an amused smile.

“You’re going somewhere too.”

You roll your eyes in pretend annoyance.

“I need to go home and change.”

“Want to, yes.” His eyes pass over you. “Need to, absolutely not.” He looks back up and you suppress your amusement to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Are you done? Can I go now?” You gesture down the hall as if to say that there are places you’d rather be than flirting with an attractive stranger.

He opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks for a moment. You cross your arms.

“One second.” He pats his coat pockets, coming up with a pencil and a piece of paper. Using the door in front of him as support he quickly scribbles something on the slip, takes a step back, and holds it out against you between two fingers. You look at his held-out hand, then back at him. He shakes the paper for you to take it, eyes on yours, and you give in, pulling the note from him. Unfolding it you read a series of numbers.

You fold it back up, eyeing him. “I’m not a prostitute, you know.”

He makes something akin to a shrug and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t necessarily think you were, wouldn’t care if that was the case either.” He sounds sincere enough.

“Okay, then why?” You tilt your head and eye him with amused suspicion, putting the paper away on your person.

He takes a breath, rocking once on the balls of his feet, darting his eyes to the ceiling and back to you.

“ ‘Cause you’re attractive and seem like fun.” He does a small gesture with his head. “Call me sometime.”

You smile and turn, calling over your shoulder. “You wish!” There’s a smile audible in his voice when his answer reaches you.

“Yeah, I do.”

It’s two minutes past eight when you press the last digit in a smoke infused telephone booth outside a club on the next Friday evening. The line to the door is not horrendous yet, but it’s long enough for you to wonder why you decided to step out of it. As you wait for the call to go through you remind yourself of why you did: because he most likely won’t be home to answer it and part of you wants to give him the chance to get out of having this conversation.

The line clicks.

“Benny.” The voice on the other side answers, matching your memory of the guy you spoke to in the corridor after leaving a hookup. Well, he definitely gave you the right number.

“Hi” You almost start laughing. “You gave me your number and told me to call you.”

There’s a second’s pause before you hear him respond, clearly as equally amused as you.

“Just so I don’t offend anyone, is this the person from the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, holding the phone closer to hear over the soccer chant starting up in the line.

“Wow, you meet that many people like that? I’m glad you remember.” Kicking up your foot you lean back against the glass wall, pressing the receiver to your ear.

“I just want to make sure I don’t accidentally accuse the wrong person of looking so good when leaving someone else’s place in the morning that I wanted to pull them into my bed and continue the job.” His voice dips and you feel it in your stomach, looking to the door to check that no one is waiting for their turn. There’s a pause and you can hear your heartbeat in the ear not pressed to the phone. “You called me…” He lightly prompts and you find the thread you lost again.

“Are you busy?”

“Would it be pathetic if I said I’m at home hoping for you to call?” He’s smiling again, his accent smooth around the words. “Have been all week actually.”

“Every evening?” You laugh. “That is pathetic.”

“No, every whole day.” Laughter threatens behind his words too.

“How have you not been fired?”

“I’m a chess player, I don’t work like that.” There’s a shuffle on the other side. “I go to tournaments, competitions, but other than that I practice at home.”

“Wait” That connects some previously unknown dots and you smile. “Benny, you’re not Benny Watts, are you?” Even as you ask you know you’re right, and he can tell that, because there’s an immediate addition of smugness when he answers.

“Oh, you know who I am?” You can visualize the face he’s making, raised eyebrows and self-assured smile.

“Don’t get cocky now, I read the newspaper like everyone else.”

“Yeah, but it’s not everyone who reads those articles.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing tone, trying to chase the smile from your voice. “Back to the point, I’m outside Harmony in Brooklyn, wanted to know if you wanted to join.”

“I just told you I’m a chess player and have been home every night for a week, what gave you the impression that I go to clubs?” He laughs.

“I have faith that you have a vivid social life, I believe in you.” You tease.

“It’s between Bushwick and Jefferson, right?” You hum affirmative. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Good, see you by the bar.” The phone clicks and you hang up the receiver, heading back outside to join the ever-growing line.

Fifteen minutes later you see him enter and less than a minute later he’s standing next to you, his face slightly lit up by the reflection bouncing off the counter.

“What are you drinking?” Benny gestures to the glass in front of you, a slice of lemon floating on clear liquid.

“Sparkling” Taking a sip you judge his reaction, wondering if he’ll be a jerk about it, but he just shrugs, ordering the same of the bartender who has stopped in front of you both. With the glass in his hand, he turns around to look out over the crowd, leaning back against the counter.

“This your usual place?” Eyes flicker over to you as he lifts his glass to his lips. You turn to lean against the counter too.

“It’s one of them.” Previously called The Trial, now under new management, Harmony is a bare redbrick room lit up only by the display case of bottles behind the bar. Its main crowd is people fresh out into the working life, the music is the same as the Top 100 on the radio and you’re fairly sure the custodian is overworked and underpaid for the job they do. You’d been on the fence when the place was sold, having been a regular at the steel barred counter and blank polished dance floor of its old existence, but two visits were enough for you to decide that you didn’t mind the changes. “Not your style?”

“I’ve been here too many times for it not to be.” Benny turns like he just realized something. “What is your name?”

You cut off the laugh about to spill out and answer, continuing: “You came all the way here without knowing my name, that’s commitment.” Benny looks away, failing to hide an amused smile as he scans the room. You on the other hand don’t hold back your laugh, enjoying how he’s giving an answer by not responding. “So, how’d you get into chess playing?” This time he laughs.

“I thought you said you read the paper.” There’s something adoring in his eyes when he looks at you, tone and smile teasing.

“I must have forgotten that part.” You put down your empty glass behind you, noting the way he follows your movements. The song switches to something with more bass and Benny downs the rest of his drink. Pushing off the counter you stand in front of him, his eyes falling to your shoes and dragging up to meet yours. “Feel like leaving?”

He smiles, one hand coming up to adjust the hat on his head.

“If you’re ready.” He lets you lead the way between groups of excited friends and even more excited new acquaintances until you reach the cold air outside.

You’re ready to start walking but Benny steps out into the street and with a wave and a sharp whistle that bounces between the buildings he has hailed a cab. Holding the door open he gestures with his head for you to get in, letting you use his free hand for support as you sit down, scooting further in to give him space. Benny flicks his coat so it doesn’t get in the way when he sits down, pushing forward to give the driver the address.

He leans back into the seat, his upper body closer to you, his hand supporting his chin as he looks out the front window, before it falls to lightly rest on your knee.

The building looks just like it did last time, dark and dormant. Following Benny up the stairs you feel your heart beat a little faster. No one meets you in the stairwell, nor in the corridor as you walk down the row of doors. When the door clicks open he holds it for you, smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

“Hungry?” Benny pulls the door closed behind you, meeting your confused glance with an amused look of sincereness.

“Sure” You laugh a little, pulling off your jacket. “what’d’ya have in mind?”

He plops his hat on a hook by the door and heads further into the apartment, his voice reaching you from behind a corner where the kitchen must lie. “I got eggs and toast.”

You look over the sofa, taking a step closer and spotting the started game of chess next to a beer bottle laying on the coffee table. Scanning the room a little further you find the phone, on the small table on the other end of the couch to where the chess board is, and you grin.

“Sounds great.” You call back, walking to the kitchen and leaning against the wall. Benny has thrown his coat over the back of a chair and rolled up his sleeves, putting a frying pan on the stove as you enter.

“Sit down.” He gestures to the table and turns back to his task. You slide into a chair as he cracks an egg into the pan. “Scrambled or sunny side?”

“Scrambled.” You glance at your watch, leaning your arms on the table. The toaster makes a noise. “Want any help?”

Benny opens a cabinet.

“No, I’m good.” Some short minutes later he clicks off the stove. A plate slides in front of you and a glass clicks against the table.

It’s good, really good, almost as good as he looks sitting across from you, sleeves rolled up, blond hair pushed back. The first three buttons of his shirt are undone, several chains laying against the t-shirt underneath. Light catches in his rings as he eats, tongue swiping over his lower lip.

You flick your eyes away when Benny looks at you, a bad habit that you thought you had broken. Those lectures of if someone catches you looking, look away immediately overriding your personal opinion that if you were interested in someone, you should be clear about it. It’s a reflexive response, and you curse yourself out in your head, you’ve not reacted like that in years.

He’s still looking, barely holding back a grin, tongue flicking out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. Eyes flicker down to your unfinished food and back up to give you a meaning look. You raise your eyebrows, giving him a look back. He holds your gaze, and breaks, looking away with evident failure to not look smug as all hell while you resume eating, this time standing your ground and continuing to look at him.

After you both finish Benny takes the plates before you have a chance to move, leaving you to lean against the end of the table while he puts them in the sink.

Movement shakes you from the slight trance you put yourself in looking at his back while the water was running. It takes Benny two more steps, which you follow with great interest, until he’s in front of you, closeness making you push back into the table. Not really blocking you physically, but just the fact that he is standing there makes moving seem like an extremely undesirable alternative. Palms resting against the solid wood behind you, you’re in no rush to do anything else than look into his dark eyes, feeling like if this was a movie, a fuse would break due to the electricity in the air.

Then his tongue wets his lower lip, your eyes flicker down, you lift yourself onto the table at the same time as he invades your personal space even further, hands pulling your hips back forward, pushing you against him in the same moment that your lips connect with his.

Your thighs lock him in place, keeping him close even though leaving seems to be the last thing on his mind with the way lips move against yours. It’s like he’s been starving for hours, not eaten just five minutes ago; then again, maybe that wouldn’t be far off. Seven days is a lot for someone who is currently pressing his whole body against you, pulling in your tongue to envelope it with his own. There’s a hand on your back and one at your side, pulling as much as they are caressing you.

Benny’s hips roll against you, sending your eyes rolling back at the friction.

“Don’t stop.” Your hands tug at his sides to get him closer, smile pressing against your lips as he complies with fervor.

Devouring you, Benny almost distracts you from your position until he pushes you back and gets on the table with you, placing a knee between your legs and pushing off the floor. When he leans back down the pressure of his thigh between yours sends sparks up your spine. A sound rolls off your tongue onto Benny’s as you push up against him, arms bracing against his back to pull him down.

Hot air mix between your mouths, letting up only for a second before connecting again, swallowing the sounds the other one makes. You reach up to undo the rest of the buttons in Benny’s shirt, whining when he pushes down harder against you. The hand not holding him up runs down your side, starting to free you of your clothing too as you flick one side of the shirt off his shoulder.

Next the t-shirt gets halfway up his body before your fingers tangle in his chains, lightly tugging him down, earning a heavy drag of his hips as his tongue slides into your mouth. He tears off you for only a second to rip the shirt fully off.

In the back of your head you try to remember if there are buildings facing this one and if there are windows, but that thought gets stuck at the station when everything save your underwear falls on the kitchen floor beside the table. Quickly pulling his belt from his pants you let him go. Before he disposes of the jeans, he pulls a square from one of the pockets, and you can’t help smiling at how you both came to that club prepared.

You sit up, leaning on one hand to watch Benny roll the rubber over his freed cock, palm coming away glistening wet in the light. His shoulders give away the deep breaths he is taking, but even without that, his eyes, running along the floor up to meet yours, would have shown his desire and unwillingness to control it more than you need him to. You let your own eyes run over his skin, sending an almost unnoticeable shiver through his body.

Benny comes back to you, using the free space next to you on the table to get back up, pulling you down over him as he lies back against the wood. You kick a leg over his, as a hand at the back of your head implores for your lips to meet Benny’s. The other hand runs down between your legs, stroking places that makes your eyes flutter and heat roar in your stomach. Your increased breathing seems to encourage his hand to move faster, the one keeping your lips against his running down to push against your back.

The friction between you causes a sound in the back of his throat. You can’t tell if he is embarrassed or more turned on because his mouth grows more insistent against yours. The hand on your back pushes down again, his hips move up, as does another sound from his lips. The hand between your legs drifts down and you straighten your back, despite frustrated sounds from Benny. Setting one hand on his heaving chest for support, your other hand seeks out the one Benny removed from you. You close your hand over his, following the slow strokes he is doing over his cock. Your eyes meet his. His breath hitches and his hand eases up, letting you take over. After a few more strokes you still your hand and lower your hips to meet it. It’s not quick, but Benny’s labored breathing and tremors makes it worth it.

Your thighs shake with the effort to make slow focused movements and not get distracted by the signal of every pleasurable nerve ending being touched by his cock inside you. It doesn’t help that Benny’s mouth keeps falling open, sounds that set your skin on fire tumbling off his tongue. Worse yet, his eyes sparkle every time he opens them to look at you, like a lost man looking at salvation. It sends skitters of fire along your back, pushes air out of your lungs in similar sounds to those he makes. You lower yourself again and his cock strokes against a sensitive spot. When you open your eyes Benny’s pleased look tells you he heard that. Oh, did he hear that.

His eyes locked on your face, his hands help you move your hips as thrills dance up your spine.

“That’s it, use me, just like that.” His soothing voice urges, seemingly without Benny noticing the words falling from his mouth. He’s too focused watching your eyes flutter, dragging your hips down just a little harsher to hear a sigh escape you. Your thighs clench around him at the feeling. You start to do it again, but Benny’s hands are already working to help you through the motion. He drags along the same spot and you feel rushes of pleasure going through your body. “Take what you need from me.”

You’ve never been one to deny someone a request like that. Benny lets out a whimper as your hips start to move faster and you’re not sure how much longer he’ll last. He is flushed red and his every breath is a moan, his hips bucking to meet yours. His cock strikes true every time, pleasure washing over you again and again in heady waves. Sparks set of wildfires in your stomach that spread to every limb and meeting those in Benny’s hands. Your thighs are shaking worse now, especially when Benny runs his hands over them, gently but burning the skin in his path. It’s so much and so good, and Benny’s eyes are alight with all the stars in the sky.

“So good.” He responds to the praise with a moan that vibrates into your body, dark eyes locked on yours. He won’t make it much longer, but he’ll try. You grind your hips down against his and you feel the wave threatening to crash. “Just like that.”

His breath hitches when you push all the way down, and you feel your stomach flip. Then it rushes over you. Benny curses and gasps your name as he finally falls from his balance point. Every stroke is fire, like you are burning and taking Benny with you. You push closer as you feel him shake, sending pride and pleasure through you. His hands guides you onto him over and over, even continuing a few times after he is finished. Then his hands fall to his sides and he closes his eyes. You look at him with a proud smile as he catches his breath. He puts his arm over his eyes.

“Yeah, definitely better than my last Friday.”

-Morning after-

It’s half past nine when you have finished your coffee and eggs. Benny insisted on giving you food before you left, maybe just so he could make you sit at the table again. You wonder if he’ll think about this every time he sits at it now.

You step outside and give him a look when he follows.

“Let me walk you down.” He shrugs and locks the door while you wait.

“I think I can find it myself; I know where it is.” You tease as you start walking.

“Just want to make sure you get hold of a cab.” He follows you down the stairs and holds open the door out to the street. Then he points to the buzzer labeled Watts. “That’s how you get up, for next time.”

You laugh.

“Next time, huh?” Benny shrugs, turning around into the street just as the smile breaks through. His sharp whistle stops a cab rolling past. Benny opens the cab door for you.

“Next time.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

**********

NINE.

“Ah, shit!” you moan, your head tossed back and eyes fluttered closed. 

You stand in your dorm’s shower, barely touching your skin in fear of making the sting worse. You never realized how bad fresh scratches stung until you got into the hot water that ran in jets in your shower hours later after crawling through your window. Despite your tired state and aching body, you managed to crawl through the correct window this time to enter your own dorm room. 

After helping Aizawa wrangle up the art-stealing, gun-wielding, quirked siblings Kikiyo and Karou, you transformed into your cat form and were able to escape amidst the commotion of the cops entering the exhibit building. Though you felt guilty to leave Aizawa like that, you also knew better than to stay. You didn’t need the cops questioning you on your hero status and possibly arresting you for being a vigilante. 

Luckily, no one spotted you when you slipped behind a wall and transformed before slipping out the front door. Though you had to walk all the way home with a fresh new set of bruises from fighting the siblings that coat your body now, you feel accomplished and happy knowing you were finally able to prove yourself to Aizawa. He seemed impressed with your quirk and the abilities that came with it. It surprises you how much you want to impress him, even make him proud. 

Not to mention how much you want to be around him. It’s like a damn disease. Which is why after you finish showering and applying some ointment to your scratches and bruises, you put on a fresh set of sweats, a UA hoodie, and some kicks before gathering your phone and keys for the night. You slip out of your dorm and lock the door before quickly taking the elevator downstairs to the lobby. 

‘So far, so good,’ you think, finding relief in knowing that everyone is fast asleep and won’t be in on your little nighttime visit.

Though you believe that, fate proves you wrong when the elevator doors open in the lobby and Present Mic minutes later. You nearly jump out of your skin when you see him standing there with a backpack. “Oh, hello, Y/N!” he greets you happily. 

You manage to give what you hope is a normal-looking smile as you shimmy out of the elevator past him. “Goin’ somewhere?” he curiously asks, letting the elevator doors close. “You look ravishing, but I’m afraid someone will take advantage and get you before I do.” 

You roll your eyes at his compliment, knowing he’s full of shit. “Thank you, Mic,” you giggle. “Just goin’ out for a while. And I already told Nemuri, so she knows I’ll be back in the morning.”

You begin to scurry to the door, but Mic’s further probing stops you. “In the morning? Everything okay?” 

You beam at his worried expression. “Yeah!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically. “I always try to visit my folks and drive back in the mornings before work. They only live an hour outside of the city, so…”

You stop, realizing you’re rambling and probably making yourself look even more suspicious. “Well, I guess I’ll be going!” you squeak before quickly turning around to jet. 

“Hey, what’s that?” Mic asks. You make the mistake of turning around once more. His fingers brush the bruise on your temple from the blow Karou gave you.

Your body grows hot with panic, your mouth dry. “My, that looks awfully fresh,” Mic softly says. “Whatever target you had your eyes set on did a number on you tonight.” 

Your mind slowly registers what the pro just said. “W-What?” you whisper. Mic continues on, still examining your bruise. “I’m sure you did a number on them much worse though. After all, you are the newest addition to heroism on the streets lately.”

Your eyes widen in panic and you begin to tremble. Oh, no…he knows. He fucking knows. 

Mic gives you a smile and a laugh despite your freeze response kicking in. “Y/N, it’s okay. I know you’re Night Claw. You don’t have to lie to me.”

You’re still in shock, too afraid to speak. Is he going to tell? Will you lose your job? And what about Aizawa? What if Mic tells him too? “How did you know?” you weakly ask. 

Mic gives a light laugh, shoving a hand in his pocket. “It was pretty easy to piece together. The dark circles under your eyes at work; the way you go missing at night…it was quite easy. I’ve known for a while now, but I was more than happy to keep your secret.”

Though he seems easygoing about it, the fear of getting caught still eats at you. If Mic knows, who else knows? “You can’t tell anyone,” you immediately plea. “If Nezu finds out–“ 

“He never will,” Mic cuts in. Your words die in your throat as you stare at him in shock. “I happen to love what you’re doing for the city and respect you highly for it.” He lays a friendly hand on your arm, his eyes serious. “Just be careful, okay? If anything ever happened to you, Aizawa would be depressed forever.” 

You furrow your brows in confusion. Aizawa? Why would he be so upset if something happened to you? He barely knows you! “Come on,” you scoff with a laugh. “Aizawa will be fine. The guy barely even talks to me.” 

“He’s just shy!” Mic protests. “But I promise that he likes you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

Though you still scoff incredulously at his words, calling it BS, you flush a bit at the mention of Aizawa possibly liking you. If so, why hasn’t he said anything? 

Before you think anything more of it, Mic gives your shoulder a squeeze and bumps his hip against the elevator button to go up. “Well, I tell your folks I said hi,” he says a little too loudly. “Enjoy your visit, girly!” 

You stare at him, confused, until you notice a couple of janitors cleaning the lobby floors. You turn back to Mic and can’t resist pecking him on the cheek “Thank you, Mic,” you whisper, giddy with relief and happiness.

Mic gives you a wink as the elevator doors open and he disappears through them. You sigh, flooded with relief at your secret not being exposed. 

When you finally exit the dorms and slip behind the building to transform, you can hardly believe your luck when you see your familiar, brooding, and very hot coworker currently walking up the trail to the other side of the faculty dorms. 

Now in your cat form, you trotter up next to him, your paws as silent as snowfall against the pavement, and then leap onto the bench. He still doesn’t see you. Not until you give him a big meow as a greeting. Aizawa flinches and swears, immediately jumping away from you. You giggle to yourself at his overdramatic reaction.

When he notices you, his eyes soften a bit. “Jesus, you scared the shit outta me,” he mutters. “What are you doin’ here? Come back after a night of trouble?” 

You give him a meow, rubbing your head against his hand. He begins to scratch behind your ears, itching all the right places. You slowly walk into his lap and purr, rubbing your face against his chest which smells faintly of eucalyptus and cedarwood. You also notice he’s not in his hero gear from tonight, replacing it with a tracksuit. You can only guess he showered and changed at some point after the exhibit bust. 

You wonder briefly if Eri is asleep and suddenly remember the main reason you decided to transform tonight: to see her smile again. The other reason is, of course, Aizawa. After you get your fill of ear scritches, you jump down from his lap and begin to walk to the faculty dorms.

“Hey, where you goin’?” he questions, following right behind you as you totter up to the doors. 

You stop at the doors and look up at Aizawa, meowing in want. He smirks down at you as you lean your body into his ankles, your tail curling around his calves. “Guess you want something to eat, huh?” He bends down to scoop you up, cradling you to his chest. “Eri will be happy to see you.” 

You begin to purr again as he cradles you in one arm and opens the door with the door, walking inside the dorms with you. The entire journey to his dorm room is short and before you know it, you’re in front of his door again. Aizawa goes to unlock the door with his key but finds it stuck. He knocks four times in a pattern–two short, two long. A code. 

“Who is it?!” Eri hollers through the door. Your heart physically bursts. ‘They have a secret code?’ you inwardly squeal. God, Aizawa is such a good dad!

Aizawa looks down at you and winks, pressing a finger to his lips. “Hey, puddin’, it’s me,” he says through the door. “Unlock the top lock for me.” 

The top lock clicks and he’s able to unlock the door. It opens to reveal Eri in some popsicle-footie PJs and her hair in two ponytails that swing around her tiny frame. As soon as she lays her eyes on you, her jaw drops. “Kitty!” she shouts, immediately snatching you out of Aizawa’s arms. “You came back! I knew you’d come back!” 

She squeezes you to her chest, her excitement and utter happiness palpable. It makes you happy too. You purr into her chest, licking at her chin. She giggles, scratching at your ears. “She must’ve seen those posters we put up for her and felt bad!” she tells Aizawa who walks into the dorm, locking the door behind him. 

“I guess she did,” he replies, exhaling exhaustedly as he kicks off his shoes and sets them neatly by the door. “How was your night with Uncle Mic while I was gone?” Eri grins, happy to recount her night.

‘Uncle?’ you think, surprised. Suddenly, seeing Mic with that backpack makes sense. He was babysitting. You swear, your heart is just about exploding from the cuteness. 

“Good!” Eri giggles as she follows Aizawa into the kitchen. “We watched Tangled and did karaoke before he dropped me off here when you got home.” She gently places you down next to your food and water bowls, tutting down at you. “You must be so hungry,” she coos. “Let’s get you fed!” 

She proceeds to have Aizawa help her fetch you some water, tuna fish, and the tiniest bit of milk as a treat for returning to them. You lap it all up gratefully, purring into your foot every time Eri pets your back.

As the night goes on in a flurry of playtime, treats, and scritches, Eri finally tuckers herself out. Throughout the hours, she did nothing but laugh at you during playtime and smile every time you nudged her with your head. Seeing how happy she was made you want to do this every single night, no matter the consequences. You just want to see her (and Aizawa) happy. 

When it’s finally bedtime, you curl at the bottom of Eri’s puffy, pink comforter while Aizawa tucks her into bed. A soft, pink glow from her flower-shaped night lamp fills the room, giving the room an innocent feel. “Alright, little one,” Aizawa coos. “Time to take yourself to bed. You had quite the eventful night.” 

Eri looks at the bottom of the bed at you. You pretend to be asleep, but can’t help the twitch of your ears when she mentions you. “You think kitty will leave again?” she curiously asks. 

Aizawa frowns, looking just as upset at the idea as you feel. You know that eventually (meaning later tonight), you’ll have to leave again because of your responsibilities as an adult. But just the thought of leaving them drives a knife into your heart.

“Possibly,” Aizawa answers honestly, “but only because she likes the outside. I think it’s the birds. Some cats are like that.” 

He sits on the edge of Eri’s bed, stroking the back of her head lovingly. “But she’ll definitely come back again. We just got ourselves an outdoor-indoor cat.” Eri giggles at this, and so do you on the inside. ‘Nice save, ‘Zawa.’ 

“Maybe we can get her a collar!” Eri enthusiastically suggests. “So if someone finds her, they’ll know she’s ours and they can find us!” Aizawa smiles adoringly at her before leaning over to kiss her cheek. “We can talk about that tomorrow morning. Get some rest.” 

But as he gets up to leave, Eri props herself up against the pillows, wide-eyed. “Wait!” she shouts, stopping Aizawa short. “Can you read me a bedtime story?” she sweetly asks, giving him those big, puppy-dog eyes. 

“The one about the princess and the spirits of the four reasons?” Aizawa knowingly asks, raising an eyebrow. Eri giggles and nods, hiding her face in her blanket.

“Alright, but after this, you sleep.” Eri claps in success as Aizawa fetches a book from her bedside table where a little girl dressed in a poofy, yellow dress surrounded by snow, sun rays, flowers, and colorful leaves is drawn on the cover. Eri scoots down under her comforter so only her head is peeking out, patiently waiting for the story to begin.

Aizawa sits down at Eri’s bedside again before opening the book and clearing his throat. “Once upon a time, there lived a young princess who was blessed by the four seasons: autumn, winter, summer, and spring…”  

You watch him for a while, falling in love with how amazing he is with Eri, even while just reading to her. He is so expressive with certain characters, putting on different voices that make Eri giggle and putting an ounce of urgency into his tone during the most excitable parts.

And then his voice: the deep timbre of his voice softly curling around each word outlined in the book has you listening intently one minute and then drifting off to sleep the next. 

It is a short nap though, but you miss the end of the story and find Eri fast asleep when you awaken. You quickly unfurl from your spot curled around yourself and, on quiet paws, walk out of Eri’s bedroom. Sure enough, Aizawa is sitting on the couch in the dark, a blanket over his lap, and typing away on his laptop. 

You let out a small trill to alert him of your presence. He looks down at you and his gaze softens. “You,” he murmurs. He curls his finger into a “come hither” motion and you are weak against his power. You jump up onto the couch and curl against his thigh, your body flush with his leg. 

“Decided to spend tonight with me?” he mutters, his voice low and hushed. His hand moves from the keypad of his Macbook to your head, petting you gently. The way his calloused fingers massage your scalp is everything. You purr against the heavenly feeling, your eyes fluttering closed. 

“Good kitty,” he coos, his voice wrapping you up in silk. Your stomach jumps at the praise and your purring only gets embarrassingly louder, making Aizawa chuckle. 

Now in the place you’ve been craving to be in all night, you drift off to sleep again while Aizawa’s wondrous petting continues. 

*********** 

When you finally awaken, it is late into the night and not even a mouse is stirring. 

Your eyes slowly open onto the dark, quiet dorm room. You’re not sure what time it is, but you do know it’s late. You wonder how much time you have before your transformation begins to break and the need to shift into your human form will begin to affect you.

You close your eyes against the darkness and stillness of the dorm, deciding that waiting until daylight when Aizawa is awake to open the door for you is ideal. However, your plans for a nap are thwarted when you hear a sudden groan. It is soft and hushed, but you hear it as clear as day. 

Ears twitching, your eyes flutter open to glance around the dorm. You find Aizawa gone from his spot on the couch, but the blanket is overturned as if he just got up. You rise from your spot on the couch, the fog from sleep vanishing as you search for the dark-haired pro. Maybe he went to the bathroom? 

But as your eyes drift across the room, they land on Aizawa’s cracked bedroom door. You jump down and tip-toe over to the door, your heart hammering in your chest. Is he hurt? Maybe having a nightmare? 

None of those possibilities even remotely match up to the reality of the situation when you get closer to the door and peek through the gap. You find him sitting at his computer desk, his back to you and his raven locks fanning over the top of his computer chair. You can’t see him from the front, but you catch the sounds of low gasps and grunts coming from his lips.

Curious and worried, you creep farther into the room, careful to not disturb him. Now closer, you can clearly see the way his left arm is moving up and down at a break-neck pace and the outline of his very hard, very wet dick poking out of his sweats and wrapped in his hand.

You swear that your heart drops into your ass. ‘Oh, my God,’ you think as the horrible realization hits you like a freight train. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh my fucking God.” 

“Fuck,” Aizawa softly grunts, pulling his teeth between his lips as his thumb moves to rub against the head of his cock. Wet sounds fill the air as his hand continues to stroke his hardened dick. You can’t help but stare at it, your mouth salivating at the veins that trail over the thick, hard shaft. 

Why is this happening to you? Why the fuck did you decide to walk in here? You should’ve known better. You should leave. You should turn around and go right now. But you can’t seem to move to do so. Your feet are stuck to the floor and your eyes are transfixed on Aizawa. 

He is too busy in his world to notice you lurking in the darkness. You’re not sure where to look at this point. At his muscled arm vigorously stroking his gorgeous cock? At his veiny, fat dick that has your fur standing on end?

You get your answer when his head dips back and you catch the look on his face: he is concentrating hard, brows furrowed and eyes closed, his black lashes fanning against his cheeks, while his pink lips are parted to let out soft grunts and moans now and again. 

You feel like a pervert sitting here watching him jack off. But you can’t bring yourself to look away. He’s just too pretty like this. His mouth opens again to moan, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he sounds: so needy; so aroused.

“Fuck,” he softly groans. “Fuck, Y/N.” 

Your mind short circuits and your eyes widen. What the fuck did he just say? No. No, he couldn’t have…

And then he says it again, this time just a faint whisper of your name, but your keen cat ears capture it: “Y/N…baby.” 

It is like every single cell in your body comes to life when you hear your name slip from his lips in the form of a wanton, urgent moan. He tosses his head back, his hand moving faster along his lubed-up cock. “Gonna cum soon,” he warns to no one…or maybe to the one he’s imagining in his head: you. 

When his grunts begin to grow more urgent, you know that you’ve overstayed your welcome and quickly find it in yourself to snap the fuck out of it and jet.

You quickly scramble out of the bedroom, panting heavily, panic in your body. You know that it’s time to go. ‘But how?’ you wonder, frantically looking around the dorm. The windows are closed, the door is locked, and… 

Your panicking calms somewhat as your eyes stare at the door; more specifically, the gap between it and the floor. You walk up to it gingerly and crouch down to assess the tight space. Though you know cats can squeeze under doors, you’ve never tried it yourself.

‘This better work,’ you think before crouching down and nudging your head against the door. Your whiskers graze against the door as your nose slips through the gap. 

You move slowly, being careful to not pull something as you slip your head underneath the door. With your paws down at your sides, you continue to push yourself under the door, squishing yourself down as much as you can. Before you know it, the only thing that is left is your tail. You find yourself on the other side of the door, now in the hallway.

You laugh giddily, the sound coming out in a meow. ‘That shit really worked!’ you joyfully think. 

Before you can be spotted, you quickly leave Aizawa’s dorm floor and take off towards the staircase down the hall to enter the lobby. Once there, you travel to the other side to make it to your dorms and move up the staircase on fast legs. Despite the burn in them and the need for rest, you don’t stop. Your fight or flight has kicked in, urging you to escape the ‘danger’ until you’re finally back in your dorm. 

When you make it to your floor, you rush down the hallway to the faculty showers and hide in a stall to finally transform into your human form.

Once back in your body, you sneak out to your dorm, quickly unlock the door, and practically scramble to get inside. You then press your back against the door and slide down it, breathing heavily and allowing your body to recover from the shitfest you just experienced. 

Once the aftermath of the utter shock settles, you let out a breathless giggle. Aizawa likes you. Likes you likes you. The someone he was talking about having feelings for is you. It’s always been you. 

Suddenly, everything Mic said to you in the faculty dorms’ lobby feels 100% true to you. ‘He’s just shy,’ he had told you. Maybe Aizawa just never knew how to approach you or quite what to say. You want to tell him you were in the same boat. You’ve always wanted to shoot your shot, but because of his personality and stance, you never felt the urge to. 

You want to confess to him as soon as possible, tell him everything you feel coiling in your stomach that is filled to the brim with butterflies. But as rise from your seat and go to take a drink of water from your sink to calm your overexcited ass down, the bruise on your arm from your mission tonight stops you. Dread fills you instantly and you lean your head against the counter. 

“Shit,” you groan in agony. Not only would you have to tell him that you’re Night Claw, but you’d also have to tell him that you’re the same cat he and Eri have been pining over. That you’ve been in his dorm. That you possibly have seen very private moments that belonged to him…such as tonight.

You know that you can never tell Aizawa anything about how you feel for him until you tell him all of this. Otherwise, you’d never forgive yourself. 

As you slip your phone out of your pocket to shoot Nemuri a text that you’re home, you grip the device in your hand.

‘I’ll tell him,’ you promise to yourself as you stand in the darkness, only the sound of the faucet dripping filling the quiet dorm. ‘I make it my mission.’ 

But even as you put this promise out into the universe, the fear of the unknown continues to bite at you–this fear being how Aizawa would look at you once he understands the truth. Could he ever see you the same way again? Would he ever be able to see you in the light you so desperately want him to see you in? 

And what about Eri? You’d have to stop your nightly visits to her in your cat form. You wouldn’t be able to make her smile or hear her laugh again. You couldn’t keep her company anymore. 

With a defeated sigh, you grab a glass from above you on the shelves and down the cool water you get from the sink until your stomach hurts. 

‘I’ll tell him eventually,’ you think.

[nurse-buckley]

To Keep Me From Freezing

Fandom: 9-1-1 Word Count: 3,383 Pairing: Buck x Reader Warnings: Being locked in a walk in (honestly my biggest fear when I worked in a grocery store!) Minor medical exams/ mentions.  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz , @fireladybuckley @winterreader-nowwriter @iamasimpingh0e @dayrin085 @floralbuckleys If you want to be added or taken off my tagslist please let me know!  Thank you @floralbuckleys and @firemedicdiaz for helping revamp and reading over this fic for me and @floralbuckleys for the amazing graphic. <3 

‘Have a good shift.’

You smile as your phone lights up with a notification from Buck, you pocket the device with a sigh knowing it was time to start getting yourself ready to leave for work. You’d been taking on more shifts in the store trying to keep yourself busy while Buck was away for his long shifts. The added bonus of overtime was also a very good incentive. 

Throwing on your store branded jacket and name tag, you grab your keys and make your way out of the door, walking the familiar route. 

The shift went by as usual, stocking the shelves in your assigned aisle, helping the off customer here and there looking for various products or advice. You enjoyed the quiet of the night shifts, unlike the majority of your colleagues, fewer customers meant you could work mostly uninterrupted. Having the shelves fully stocked, neat and tidy at the end also gave you satisfaction, Buck teased you for it endlessly as you’d found yourself doing the same at home, constantly reminding him to rotate the food in the cupboards in date order. 

You glanced at your watch, finding relief that you didn’t have long left of your shift. The display you’d been working on just needed a few finishing touches and then you could go home, shower and spend the day with your boyfriend. You spot your manager walking past, looking beyond stressed as she paces up and down the aisles looking for someone. 

You sigh when her eyes land on you and she begins to make her way over to you. “Y/N, I hate to ask…” she begins. 

“It’s fine, Elise. What’s up?” you reassure her, kicking yourself for the offer, hoping the task won’t take too long. You guessed you weren’t her first choice but you were happy to help if it meant a little more overtime.

You watch the relief wash over her face, happy you weren’t going to be another in what was probably a long line of colleagues who chose to blow her off. “Everyone’s gone home, and you know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate but that shelf in the walk-in freezer is broken again, someone’s just left stock all over the floor. I’ve gotta go to an appointment so I can’t stay until open,” she says all at once. 

“Elise, it’s fine. I’ve got it. I’ll just finish up here and then I’ll see what I can do.” 

She flashes you a smile, giving you a clap on the shoulder before turning to leave. “You’re a lifesaver!” Elise tosses you the keys to the store, going over the instructions on how to lock up when you finish, assuring you’d be paid for the overtime. She continues her thank yous as she walks away, leaving you by yourself in the store. 

You pull out your phone, sending a quick text to Buck, ‘might be home a little later, gotta fix something in the walk-in and then lock up. Going to need a hot shower when I get in…maybe someone to join me too?’ You sent with a few emojis. 

Your phone lights up as the three dots appear, then disappear as Buck decides on how to respond. You let out a laugh as your phone buzzes with a new notification, Buck having replied with a few suggestive emojis. 

Pocketing your phone once more, you zip up your jacket as far as it can go and pull on the gloves before heading to the back of the store to the walk-in freezer. You should feel slightly ridiculous at the attire, considering the climate you live in, but they were needed in the biting 0 degrees of the freezer. 

The cool air hits you as soon as the doors open, causing you to suck in a deep breath. Your boss hadn’t been lying when she’d said the stock was everywhere. In fact, she probably hadn’t been entirely truthful with you. Realizing you would probably be in there longer than you thought, you decide to close the door behind you, not wanting to let in the warm air or hear the robotic voice reminding you ‘door open, please close the door,’ on an endless loop. 

Unsure of where to start, you begin by shifting the stock around to give you a bit more room to work. It probably wasn’t the wisest decision to go in with only your jacket, but you knew the sooner you got in, the sooner you would be out of there and you could be on your way home. You shake off the cold, focussing on the task at hand, hoping you will be done soon. 

Your fingers are numb and you’re barely able to grasp at the last few items by the time you are done, the gloves just about doing their jobs none they were damp from the melting ice from the frozen produce. With the shelf finally fixed, you make quick work of restacking the boxes of frozen vegetables and oven fries before turning to leave. 

You give another pull on the handle, surprised as the motion jerks you. You were stuck. Not quite believing it, you give the door handle another hard yank, trying to keep the panic from rising further, but once again the door doesn't budge.  

You try to swallow the anxiety that has risen in your chest as your biggest fear has come true. ‘The safety release, it’s there for a reason. Try that before you panic,’ you thought to yourself as you pulled on the emergency release next. Dread washes over you, the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach dropping with the realization that the door is still jammed tightly shut. 

With all the strength you could muster, you try one more time, hoping it is just a small build up of ice that is preventing your escape. Your strength, however, is of no use. The lever hardly budges. You slam your hands against the freezer food in frustration as you let out a choked sob as you finally admit to yourself that you’re stuck. Turning your back against the freezer door, you allow yourself to slide down, your emotions finally taking over as you let the tears you’ve been holding back escape. 

The tears only made you colder as the moisture hits the cold air. You try, in vain, to stop, hiccupping as you try to choke back the tears; but the fear and anxiety were too much. 

You pull out your phone from your pocket, glancing at the top right hand corner of the screen to see what you had expected; no signal. Elise had likely already left, so you knew there was no point in ringing the safety buzzer either. With no one to call and the store empty, you choked out another sob at the realization that the morning team wouldn’t be in for another hour. 

With the knowledge you wouldn't be able to get out, your mind turns to survival mode. You vaguely remember something from one of the survival shows Buck loved to watch; you needed to keep calm. Panic would only burn energy and your body needs that to keep warm and to survive. 

You glance around, noting the broken down cardboard boxes you’d cleared, sitting by the door to the freezer. You place a few on the floor, hoping it would be enough of a barrier to insulate you from the cold ground. You also spot the roll of saran wrap you know is kept in the freezer to wrap the full cages and begin to frantically unravel the rolls, folding it as you went to make a makeshift blanket. 

You sit down on the insulated floor, wrapping the improvised blanket over your head and around your shoulders. With the remaining cardboard, you cover the rest of your body, hoping it will stave off the chill from the cool freezer air. 

Despite the makeshift shelter, you can’t help the involuntary shivering causing your whole body to convulse as it tries to keep you warm. 

You can gradually feel yourself growing more tired, not sure if it's from the cold air or the effect of the long shift you’d completed, not that you cared either way. 

For once, you’re thankful for the thermal socks and heavy uncomfortable steel toe cap boots, at least your feet are warmer than your hands. You know it’s not looking good for you when you begin to lose the feeling in your fingers, despite having your arms wrapped around you and your hands tucked beneath your armpits. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms helps to warm you some, the action helps to keep your blood circulating, praying to any god who would listen that you’ll make it out of this alive. 

You clumsily fumble your phone from your pocket, with the hope that by some miracle you might have at least one bar of signal, but as suspected, nothing. Checking the time, you sigh, sliding the phone back into your pocket, fumbling it slightly as your fingers are no longer cooperating. 

As the time passes, you feel yourself growing weaker by the minute. You can feel yourself growing more tired, fatigue sapping the remnants of your energy. Your head jerks forward, startling as you temporarily lose consciousness. 

Your thoughts drift to Buck, the last you checked the time, you knew he’d be home soon, having completed his own shift. Hopefully he will realize something is wrong when you’re not at home to greet him; but the message you sent earlier about staying late left you with little hope he wouldn’t think anything of it. 

The longer you spend in the cold, the less feeling you have in your fingers and the sensation only continues to spread, your arms and legs beginning to lose feeling, growing numb. It's not long before you don’t even have the coordination or energy to keep your arms moving up and down, letting them fall weakly onto your lap. You begin to slip once more, too confused to even attempt to stay awake, forgetting the importance of it. You just knew the darkness felt inviting. Comforting. 

Before consciousness fully leaves you, you’re aware of a clanging sound, the familiar sound of metal against metal as the freezer door slides open; you’re too far gone to care, allowing the darkness to finally consume you. 

As soon as B shift comes in, Buck wastes no time in saying his goodbyes, leaving a miserable Eddie as he prepares to pull another shift of overtime. He checks his phone, confused when he doesn’t see any messages from you telling him you were on your way home or had arrived home. ‘That freezer job must have been bigger than the manager let on,’ he thought to himself. 

Buck tucks his phone into his pocket, getting into his Jeep and pulling out of the parking lot, he decides he wants to surprise you at work, not wanting you to walk home after what had turned out to be a demanding shift. By the time he pulls into the parking lot of your store, Buck can see one of the morning staff heading in early. He quickly puts his car into park and hastily makes his way towards the entrance. 

“Hey! Do you mind if I come in? I’m picking up Y/N, they said they were staying late fixing that shelf in the freezer, but I can’t get hold of them.” 

The young girl nods, “sure, come in. The walls in that freezer are so thick, you can never get any signal in there.” 

Buck follows her inside, looking around for you. “Hey, do you mind showing me where the walk-in is?” 

Your colleague nods, gesturing with a jerk of her head for Buck to follow her as she makes her way through the store, out through the ‘staff only’ doors. 

An uneasy feeling passes over the firefighter as he sees your backpack against the wall, opposite the freezer doors. 

Buck is broken out of his thoughts as the woman, who’d lead him out back spoke. “That’s weird.” 

“What?” Buck replies, following her gaze to the red flashing light on the panel next to the walk-in. 

“The freezer is running too hot,” she comments as she gives the door a tug. She sighs in frustration when it doesn’t budge. “This stupid door has been playing up all week, damn management won’t do anything about it.” 

Buck’s heart sinks as he looks between your abandoned backpack on the floor and the woman before he attempts to open the freezer himself. He body shoves the woman out of the way, a little more aggressively than he’d meant to as he tries to open the door himself. It takes a few tries but with one hard pull, much to his own relief, the door opens. Metal grinding again metal as the bright lights from the freezer illuminate the dim hallway. 

Nothing seems out of the ordinary at first; the shelves look in order, the boxes and cages neatly stacked. Buck’s heart feels as if it’s in his throat as he notices a familiar pair of work boots sticking out from behind a pile of stacked cardboard. 

He rushes into the freezer, not caring how the chill of the cold air bites against his exposed skin, still only wearing his LAFD issued navy t-shirt. Buck frantically pulls the cardboard away, finding you nestled in the makeshift cocoon you’d made yourself in order to keep warm. He thanked god you had, as it may have just saved your life. He looks you over, noting how pale you skin is, the slight tinge of blue to your lips. Placing gentle fingers on your neck, he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, relieved to feel the gentle thrum of your pulse against his fingertips. 

“Y/N, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes for me sweetheart,” he calls urgently. 

You can hear his voice in the distance, wanting desperately to wake up and tell him you’re okay, but your body betrays you. 

Buck watches your eyelids flutter as you try to muster the energy to come back to him. 

“B-,” the name is heavy on your tongue. 

“I know, I’m here. I’ve got you.” Buck’s worry grows as he gets no further response from you, swearing as he realizes the situation is quickly turning dire. He looks back towards the employee who is still standing at the doorway, shocked at the scene unfolding before her. 

“I need you to call 911 now. Tell them there’s a hypothermic victim, trapped in a commercial freezer, unknown length of time, unconscious and hypothermic. Let them know firefighter Evan Buckley with the 118 is on scene. Once you’ve done that, I need you to get the first aid kit and find the emergency blanket.” 

She nods her understanding before frantically pulling the phone from her pocket, shaking as she dials the number. Buck turns his attention back on you, trusting her to relay the relevant information. 

He gently pulls you forward into his arms as he gets himself into a better position to help lift you to your feet, careful not to jostle you too much. Buck easily helps you up and out of the freezer, moving you away from the entrance and cool air. He places you gently down on the floor before he begins his assessment. 

Buck shushes you gently as you let out another incoherent moan as you feel Buck moving your sore and stiff muscles against your will. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Buck soothes gently, “but we need to get you out of these cold and damp clothes.” He continues his reassurances as he removes the garments, leaving you in your undergarments. Your colleague returns moments later, the foil blanket in hand as she opens and shakes out the blanket, handing it to Buck and helping him to wrap it around you. 

With no other immediate method of rewarming, Buck sits against the wall, gently maneuvering you to sit between his legs. He pulls you into his chest, allowing his own body heat to help. The only thing keeping him calm is the gentle rise and fall of your breathing as he holds you close. 

He places a gentle kiss to the side of your head, not sure who he’s trying to reassure more. “I’ve got you.” 

Buck’s not sure how long he sits there with you, but he soon finds relief as he sees the familiar uniforms of the firefighters and medics being led to you by your colleagues. He’s even more relieved when he sees the face he’d hoped would turn up. Eddie. 

Eddie sets his kit and monitor down next to the pair of you, reaching around Buck to take your wrist, taking your pulse while his friend gives him the low down on your condition. The older firefighter can feel the chill coming from your skin, even through the barrier of his gloves, shaking his head as he decides his next move. 

The medic next to him is already shaking out another blanket, manoeuvring around Buck to secure it around your body. 

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes for me?” 

A familiar voice breaks through the haze as you’re finally able to open your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie kneeling in front of you. You try to move your body, try to speak to tell him you’re okay but everything is too heavy, takes too much effort with the little energy you have. You register the weight of someone's arms around you, shifting your head slightly to see you’re in Buck’s arms. 

The effort of the interaction saps what little energy you have as your body betrays you, eyelids droop, head falling back against Buck’s shoulder. You’re vaguely aware of Eddie’s calm voice, followed by a slightly more panicked tone coming from Buck, but you’re too far gone, the warmth of unconsciousness, once again, too inviting. 

Eddie continues his assessment, a little more urgently, placing electrodes on your chest, attaching you to the various monitoring equipment. Thankfully, you’re blissfully unaware of the extra attention, not even feeling the sting of someone inserting an IV. 

As soon as the medics are finished with their assessment, Buck gets to his feet, gently lifting you with the help of Eddie and his partner. Working together, they set you down onto the waiting gurney, working in synchronicity they get you safely tucked under more blankets and strapped in. Buck helps wheel the stretcher to the waiting ambulance, climbing in with Eddie after you. 

It’s not hard to miss by the sight of your unstable vitals on the monitor and the look Eddie gives Buck that you’re not quite out of danger yet. Buck takes a seat on the bench next to his friend, keeping out of the way as he continues treating you as the ambulance pulls out of the parking lot. 

Buck wants nothing more than to reach out and hold your hand, whether to reassure you in your unconscious state, or ground himself, he’s unsure. The way you’re tucked into the blankets doesn’t give him access to your hands, so instead he places a gentle hand on the bundle of blankets over your arm. 

“We’re almost at the hospital, stay with me, alright?” 

Eddie gives him a tight lipped smile from the seat by your head as he continues charting vitals and monitoring you. He’s unsure of how he can reassure his friend, let alone if he was going to take any of it in with the state of shock he’s in from discovering you. Eddie leans forward, clapping a hand on Buck’s shoulder, “we’ve got them. We’ll get them through this, okay? Y/N’s a fighter.” 

Buck sighs, taking a breath of relief as the paramedic driving announces you’re less than a minute out. The ambulance pulls into the emergency department entrance coming to a halt, a few seconds later the doors fly open, doctors and nurses surrounding the stretcher. Buck sits unmoving, staring ahead as they take your gurney away, only moving to stand when Eddie guides him out of the rig, and into the hospital behind you. 

[soft-for-them]

Textiles classroom - Billy Hargrove x plus size reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Billy Hargrove needs your expertise in sewing so you both go to the out the way textiles class room to be alone together whilst you sew. I ended up writing this gender neutral because dysphoria and stuff.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Ahhhh, I'm not sure I like this one shot, the request was such a good one but my writing ability isn't the best... so yeah, no proof read.

Often the classrooms that hold the textiles classes aren’t like the other classrooms housing different subjects. If the textiles class has its own classroom, rather than a borrowed art classroom or a spare room that’s coved in mathematics posters of geography dioramas, then that textiles room is small and out the way, often in an abandoned part of the school which only a few teachers and fellow sewers go to linger.

The textiles classroom at Hawkins High is tiny probably even smaller than the staff room and it’s hidden away too, often students who are looking for it for the first time are late because the small single door looks too much like a janitors closet rather than an entrance to a classroom.

With a row of yellowing strip lights, the last light near the doorway all ways flickering so much that it’s like in a hospital corridor in a horror film. The light flickers so much so that there’s a piece of paper with the words ‘don’t turn on’ written in bright highlighter blue sticky taped over the row of switches to deter any students or unknowing teachers from turning it on.

A big cupboard at the front of the classroom near the teacher’s desk, an ancient chalk board on wheels and a pristine Singer sewing machine (the type that has its own stand and looks like it’s like it from the Edwardian era) hold all the ‘updated’ sewing machines, which the classroom only has five of.

These sewing machines are cheap and off brand, they were bought in baulk ten years prior when Hawkins began teaching the textiles class along with other classes considered too ‘hippy’ by the grumpy older parents when don’t care for the arts.

Normally the avocado green machines, with their easily snapped needles and dodgy presser foots that jam too much are locked up at lunch time in the cabinet with the bobbins and threads but your teacher trusts you enough not to steal the machines so she trusts you with the key to the cabinet.

So right now you tow a green sewing machine over to the nearest plug socket, your back pack still on your back and your boyfriend Billy Hargrove awkwardly standing in the middle of the room holding a pair of forest green gym shorts, his rather small pair of gym shorts that he plays basketball in, that have a large rip in them.

Billy Hargrove, the school’s resident bad boy and handsome Cali man looks like a lost puppy among the large desks off to the side of the room and the many mannequins, drying racks and clothes horses bustling with fabric and clothes sew by a handful of students that scatter the classroom.

Then there’s you, the school’s resident tailor, that chubby nobody who people pay to fix and alter their clothes on the down low.

The only other people who know of your little scheme is that guy who sells candy and alcohol out of his locker (what secret sellers have to stay together) and of course your secret boyfriend.

No one is surprised that Billy likes you, it’s evident in how protective he is of you.

Many wonder why, most don’t realise that you and Billy have known each other for far longer than just a couple years, all those times spent holidaying in California as a child weren’t for nothing after all.

However, almost everyone would be surprised, apart from the betting teachers of Hawkins High and locker snack guy (what, he sells a lot of beer to the Populars so he sees how Billy looks at you), that you both been dating for quite some time.

For months now it’s been sneaking around town and late night car rides, blowing off school and getting high in a random fields sharing aspirations of becoming someone or moving back to California and giving a big ‘fuck off’ to everyone who ever hurt you both.

Honestly, you’re not sure if it will last, the relationship that is.

Sure you’ve come to realise you love the curly blonde mullet of a man, anger issues and all but you’ve been sewing like hell saving up some spare money so hopefully you’ll have a chance at Art school.

More and more time has been on making your portfolio, you being stuffed away in the textiles class room sewing dresses and suits, sofa covers and curtains whilst Billy does the opposite, him often skipping class and flunking exams.

Though you don’t dwell on it so much, especially right now as you thread a black thread through the sewing machine, pressing the presser foot down until the strand picks up the same black thread from the bobbin below.

It takes a few tries and as you try to be patient with the fault machine Billy sliding over to you as you try again, his feet lifting up onto the desk next to your sewing machine as he lounges back into a blue plastic school chair.

The man has always been fascinated with you skill so his mouth is always zipped shut when you sew.

It’s like he’s in a trance when looking at you, the love oozing out but when your hands sew so quick and delicately he thinks of how skilful and intelligent you are.

There’s your looks too; you’re pretty despite the lack of sleep making you groggy and easily irritated and your curves make him feel so many things. He could be rude and say all the rude things he thinks about you but he can also say that being around you makes him a better person.

His blue crystal eyes bore into you as you finally start sewing, you own eyes cast away from him your sight fully focused on fixing the smallest of rips that could have easily been left without the pair of shorts getting ruined.

Billy realises that he likes it here with you, in this classroom so out the way and quite that the world seems to stop when you’re alone here together, it’s a safety or maybe it’s just because you’re so comfortable alone together.

So with sparkling blue eyes and time to waste, the thought of asking you skip Algebra class after lunch is over flowing in his head.

Billy Hargrove relaxes and cherishes the moment hoping it will last.

[touyasdoll]

I Hate Me Too

This is my piece for Anilysium’s nsfw server collab! The theme this month was Hatefucking & Revenge. You can & should check out all the other pieces at the link below 🧡

Anilysium’s Hatefucking & Revenge Collab Masterlist

Minors DNI

Pairing: Pro Hero!Bakugou x Pro Hero!Reader

Genre: smut, hurt/comfort

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: some very raw emotions in this one, biting, impact play, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, set in a hospital

“I can’t fuckin’ believe the shit that you pull sometimes. Who in the hell even gave you a hero license?” A battle-worn Bakugou spits as he takes a seat in the hospital bed nearest the door, covered in grime and dried blood, some his own, most of it not. “You got a death wish or something, dumbass?”

“Me?! I’m not the idiot who went and got himself zapped by who even knows what the hell that quirk was.” You retort, settling into a bed of your own across the room from his, minding the sorest parts of your equally battered body.

“No, you’re just the fuckin’ moron who ran ahead without backup and nearly got herself fuckin’ killed!” He snarls, curling his fists in his lap. “You know how much extra paperwork that would’ve been for me? Typical L/n, makin’ shit harder for everyone, even in death.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bakugou,” you roll your eyes dismissively, laying back in the propped up bed. “How many times were you dropped as a kid? I’m curious to know what it takes to create your specific brand of ‘the entire world must revolve around me’. Honestly, there’s not much that you do well, but being entirely self-absorbed is something you’ve clearly mastered.”

He scoffs and the noise is dripping with disdain, “You’re one to fuckin’ talk, princess. I—,” the exasperated redhead standing by the door cuts him off.

“Okay!” Kirishima smiles, resting his hands on his hips. “Now that all that’s outta your system, how about you guys actually rest like you’re supposed to? Doc said that the hospital is swarmed, so you’re probably going to be in here a while before you’re even looked at, since your injuries aren’t that serious. I can’t stick around and play referee though, so can you two just promise me that you won’t kill each other?”

He glances between the two of you glaring at one another from opposite beds and you sigh, smiling politely in his direction, “Fine, but only because it’s you asking.”

“Whatever,” the blonde huffs, kicking his boots off to swing his legs into the bed.

“All right, I’m gonna take off then. I’ll let you guys know what’s going on with the case once I know more,” Kirishima nods, stepping back to grasp the handle on the door. “And if you two have finally settled your shit by then, somebody will let you guys outta here.”

He grins and flashes you both the key in his palm before slipping out the door and quickly pulling it shut, a lock clicking as Bakugou lunges from his bed to hammer his hand on top of the handle.

“Oi!” He pounds his fist against the door, “The fuck do you think you’re doing? Open this goddamn door!”

“Kiri, what the fuck?!” You shoot forward in the bed, scrambling to hop out of it, but his voice calling through the door stops you.

“I’m sorry! But you two are getting unbearable,” he sighs, tapping his palm to the door once. “You gotta be here for awhile anyway. If one of you for some reason actually starts dying, then call a doctor in and they’ll open the door. Otherwise, I would appreciate it if you could at least try to find a way to get along while you’re waiting. If not for yourselves, then for me, please? I’ll call to check in later. Sorry again!”

The sound of his boots thudding away are drowned out by Bakugou’s palm igniting against the door, “Dumbass! Get back here!”

“Oh my God, give it a rest,” You flop back into the bed, closing your eyes as you rest your forearm over them. “He’s gone. Just shut the hell up and relax, there’s no need to add property damage to your invoice. We won’t be in here forever.”

You didn’t need to look at him to see how he was seething, you could hear it in the way the air hissed between his gritted teeth as he stomped back to his bedside.

“At least there’s a fucking shower in here,” he grumbles, shoving his feet into the pair of slippers on the floor before crossing to the attached bathroom.

“At least I’ll have five minutes of peace and quiet,” you can’t help but murmur. Always wanting to prod and poke at your explosive colleague.

“Tch,” is all he has to reply with as he swings the door open and then slams it shut entirely too aggressively behind him.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Bakugou became this openly hostile to one another; it had seemed like such a natural progression. What would have been a healthy sense of competition for most individuals quickly morphed into a never-ending trading of blows between two overly competitive hotheads. Aizawa had his hands full with the two of you alone back in your school days and since then, Kirishima had stepped up to play the role of mediator, ensuring that neither one of you actually ever went for the jugular of the other, but you just couldn’t help but to push at his buttons. They were just so easy to press.

Katsuki Bakugou is one infuriating son of a bitch. That’s just a fact to most. He’s explosive, arrogant, rude, combative, aggressive; the list could go on and on. All terrible traits, all ones that you hated to admit that you shared with him. The pair of you were like two similar poles of magnets. Whenever you were brought too near one another, an unseen force repelled you.

Which is precisely why neither of you had been too keen on even teaming up with one another for this mission and still less thrilled to learn that you’d been partnered up. It wasn’t like you couldn’t work together, you’d managed and the job was nearly done now that the raid was over, thankfully. The past few weeks had been full of petty arguments over how to best do this or accomplish that. Meaningless squabbles that usually arose over nothing more than one of your fragile ego’s feeling wounded or your mutually incessant need to take charge of the situation.

Yet despite how inhumanly angry he could make you, how easily he could burrow himself so deep under your skin; you couldn’t deny that you hadn’t thought about ripping his clothes off at least once, especially after all the time you’d been forced to spend together recently, just the two of you. It’d become a favorite daydream of yours on those afternoons when the two of you had nothing to do but hole up in a cramped room to stake out the enemy.

You’d spent far too much time imagining peeling that tank top up over his head to reveal his perfectly sculpted torso, running your fingers over the muscles in his abdomen until they hooked into his pants while your lips pressed offerings along his neck. His broad arms caging you in against his body, trapping you there so you could feel the twitch of his cock against you while he groaned so needily in your ear.

“Oi,” you jump slightly, whipping your head to the bathroom door to see him standing in the frame, the ragged shirt of his uniform in his hand and the waist of his pants setting almost too low on his hips without the assistance the belt normally provided. “Shower’s free if you want it.”

“Thanks,” you nod, always striving for indifference when not for antagonism. “You bother to leave any hot water, at least?” You hooked your legs over the edge of the bed, sliding on your slippers.

“Wouldn’t want you to have to wash that body in the cold, though I have always wondered how perky your nipples might get.”

“Uh—excuse me?” You let out a punctuated breath, cocking your brow as you spun on your heel to face him only to find his face paleing.

“I..t-that’s not what I was trying to say, I—” he stuttered, furiously shaking his head as he turned his back to you. “I didn’t want you to hear that.”

“But..you thought it? And said it out loud so..?” You narrow your gaze, shuffling closer to him. “Are you fucking with me? Because this is grotesque, even for you.”

“No, I’m not fucking with you!” He barks, spinning back around, his eyes the perfect mix of panic and pique. “I genuinely wasn’t trying to say those words. It—,” he sighs in frustration, “It’s like my fuckin’ mouth had a mind of it’s own for a second!”

You cock your head to the side, looking away and then back to him slowly. He wasn’t usually one for pranks, rather just outright insults to get at someone, but you still couldn’t write off that this might be a ploy to make you look like an ass.

“Okay then, why don’t you just try saying whatever it was you were actually trying to say again?”

He heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I was trying to say that while I was showering, I was picturing you naked in there with me and then I figured I oughta leave you some hot water, so you don’t think I’m an even bigger dick than you already do.” He drags his hand along his cheek, wiping his face before covering it with both hands as he paces away from you. “That’s—,” he shakes his head, looking as equally stunned as you. “That’s not what I wanted to say.”

“Are you—,” you pause, still reeling from whatever in the hell that was. “Are you okay? Like, seriously, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” his voice is muffled against the palms of his hands, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath. “I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

“Okay, now I know you’re not fucking around. You’d never admit to that anyone, let alone me.” You snort, circling around your bed to step in front of him, gasping when a realization strikes you. “The quirk.”

“Dammit it,” he groans, balling his hands into fists to slap them against his thighs. “What kind of fuckin’ quirk makes you say embarassing shit?”

You shrug, “The kind that appeals to karma, I guess.”

He throws down daggers with his eyes, side-stepping around you to sit on his bed. He parts his lips to speak, but closes them tight to chew on his cheek instead.

“What?” You prod, sitting down on the edge on the bed.

“Don’t wanna risk the wrong shit comin’ out again,” he explains, his cheeks flushing the lightest shade of rose.

“C’mon,” you tap his knee with your knuckles and it jerks as if you were testing his reflexes. “I’ll stop being a dick, let’s see if we can figure this out.”

“What’s your bright idea? We gonna play 21 questions?” The edge in his voice levels out the tension in the room.

“Wait, yeah, that’s actually a great idea,” you admit, folding your hands in your lap. “Maybe it’s like that confession quirk or some sort of truth quirk.”

“So you believe that I was thinking about you in the shower?” He sets his jaw, his cheeks deepening a shade.

“Listen, we can unpack that later,” you laugh, a smirk turning up the corner of your mouth as he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, I’m serious. Lemme ask you a couple questions that I know the real answer to and then we’ll know.”

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees with a deadpan expression. “Shoot.”

“Is your name Bakugou?”

“Yes.”

“Did you attend UA?”

“Yes.”

“Is your mother’s name Mitsuki?”

“Yes,” he says, more annoyance in this one than the previous. “What is this accomplishing?”

“It’s setting a baseline, jackass,” annoyance plenty evident in your reply. “Now, try to lie to me. Is your name Bakugou?”

“N—” he clenches his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “N—yes.”

Your jaw drops open in shock, “Uh—okay. Let’s try again. Did you attend UA?”

“N—,” he growls, flexing the fingers in both of his hands in frustration that only grows as he continues. “Nnnn—ugh! Yes!”

“Okay,” you flash him your palms, “It’s all right. Let’s try something that’s not yes or no. What color are your eyes?”

“B-b,” he swallows, exhaling a deep breath. “Blu—red. Oh my fucking God,” he presses his hands to his temples in a fit of irritation. “It was a mother-fucking truth quirk. This is such bullshit.”

“I mean,” you half shrug, laughing quietly. “It’s kinda funny? At least it’s nothing harmful.”

“You ever go an entire day without lying?” He blinks at you, wholly unamused.

“That’s fair. Just don’t talk to anyone.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Because you’re so easy to ignore.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You scowl. “I’m trying to help you here.”

“What for, princess?” He leans forward, glowering right back at you. “All you ever wanna do is piss me off, so pardon me if I have a hard time believing that you’re really trying to help. Only one of us was hit by that damn thing, which you’re welcome for, by the way. Should be you sitting here living through the plot of a mediocre Jim Carrey movie. Not me.”

“All right, I get you’re upset with me, but there’s no reason to take this out on Jim Carrey,” you put your hands up in jesting defense, trying to ease off on the aggression. “And look, I appreciate it, but I never asked you to—”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare say it,” his eyes close while a frustrated chuckle leaves his lungs. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t ask me to take that hit for you.”

“I didn’t though! You just dove in there like a fucking madman like you always do!” You level your eyes with his, your nostrils flaring. “You’re always running around trying to do the absolute most all the time for your own fucking pride, don’t act like you did it out of the goodness of your heart.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he sneers, indignation dripping from his tongue.

You want to lean closer, to get up in his face and scream until his ears bleed. He’s done it again, nestled himself so far beneath your skin that you want to scratch and tear and fight until the urge is gone.

But then you have a more sinister idea.

You stop, leaning back to collect yourself, closing your eyes briefly. When you open them, you tilt your head to the side and ask calmly, “Do you want to?”

“What?” He’s still angry, but that emotion falls right off his face as your play dawns on him.

“I said,” you smile sickeningly sweet, “Do you want to fuck me, Bakugou?”

“Of course I fuckin’ do,” he bemoans, his face twisted up as if it hurt him to admit such a thing to you.

You blink, your brain not quite processing his words. Had you heard him right? If he can’t—if he can’t lie then he meant that?

“You do?” You lean forward and like a seesaw, he leans back, his spine touching the mattress that was fixed at a 120 degree angle.

“You fuckin’ heard me, didn’t you?” He bites back, obviously mortified if the color of his face is any indication.

You bite the inside of your lip, shamelessly raking your eyes over his half-dressed form as if you’re assessing him. A delicious warmth floods your belly as you watch the way he seems to squirm beneath your gaze, but you didn’t want to torture him. Not before you got clean anyway.

You rose from the bed, sauntering over to the open door of the bathroom, “I’ll leave you be.” You grasp the handle, taking another assessing glance at him while he looks anywhere but at you, “But since I’m assuming you meant what you said, I think I’ll just leave this open, if you don’t mind.”

From your peripheral vision, you can see his head turn to watch as you lift your top up over your head, stepping into the bathroom with a newfound sense of power. Your heart thumps a little harder in your chest as you shimmy out of your bottoms, setting them aside while you wonder if he’ll bite.

You turn the shower on and it doesn’t take long for it to warm up, allowing you to slip under the comforting stream of water and wash away the mess from your skin. You’ve never felt such adrenaline while simply washing your body, scrubbing away the dried blood and dirt while your mind ran wild with the possibility of Bakugou keeping you company.

Just when your pulse began to slow back down, as you were rinsing the last of the lightly scented soap off of your skin, you felt his presence behind you. His breath was audible, as hot and heavy as the thick steam clouding the small room when his large hands captured your hips. You instantly fell into his touch, leaning back against his broad chest. Soft lips close around your neck and your breath hitches, your hand clasping over the one on your hip while the other reaches back to push into his hair.

“I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t join me,” you sigh, lolling your head to the side while he kisses your warm, wet skin.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he nips gently, giving your hips a firm squeeze to pull a soft groan from your lips. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

“I couldn’t tell,” you scoff playfully, grinding yourself against his erection, inspiring him to rut it against you, letting it slip and slide against your ass while he groans softly.

“I mean it,” he snarls in your ear through gritted teeth, digging the tips of his fingers into your hips as he spins you around, pinning your back to the slick wall. “You’re a fucking menace. Always pissing me off to no end. What’s it for, princess? Got a little schoolgirl crush on me, do ya?” He cages you in with his arms, hovering his lips above yours while his hardened cock pushes up against your folds, throwing your mind into a tailspin.

Your jaw falls open, your hips seeking friction and finding it on the head of his cock as your clit catches against it, “Fuck,” you chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him while your hands roam his pecs. “You might never know, baby. Would it make you feel better if I said yes? I don’t feed your ego often enough, do I?”

He chuckles, his vermilion eyes glinting as they narrow to inspect your figure, “Have you ever looked in a mirror, baby? You know why I can’t fuckin’ stand you sometimes?” Two fingers slip inside your entrance, sinking right in while he stares into your eyes, a smug grin answering the way your brows pull together at the contact. “You’re real good at deflection, I’ll give you that.”

You throw your arms over his shoulders, clutching to him as he circles your clit with his thumb. His fingers are thick, sliding in and out of you with ease thanks to your arousal. The pleasure is enough to have your knees wobbling already.

“Because your ego,” he suddenly pulls his hand away, but you barely have the time to open your eyes to see why before he’s hoisting you up, taking a step closer to the wall as he holds you in his arms, lowering you onto his throbbing cock. “Is fucking insufferable sometimes.”

You snap your eyes shut, whimpering at the sudden stretch until you’re moaning, adjusting to his massive size and eagerly awaiting his next movement.

“You’re reckless,” he presses your back firmly against the wall, supporting your weight while he cocks his hips back and thrusts into you. “Always throwing yourself in the way of danger, even for people who don’t deserve it.”

“You’ve always got some smart ass comment waiting for me,” he repeats the motion of his hips, groaning as he sinks all of himself inside you this time, his breathing becoming more haggard. “Can’t ever just keep that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

“Bakugou,” you mewl, panting as your head falls back against the shower wall.

“Shut up,” he growls, thrusting into you again with more force than before. “You,” he shakes his head, expelling a breath as he flashes you a crooked smile. “Sometimes I just can’t fuckin’ stand you. Sometimes I think I actually do hate you.”

His admission disturbs something in your chest. It feels like a cumbersome needle has punctured your lungs and stolen the air from them. You want to shrink away, but you can’t, you’re trapped here, staring into impassioned red eyes that you are making you feel so, so small.

“Bakugou,” you repeat, your voice as insignificant as you feel and then you’re ripped away from the wall. You’re being carried to the bed, set down into the sheets that are dry no longer with him still sheathed inside of you.

“Don’t start,” he mumbles against your jaw, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses along it as he works towards your ear to whisper, “I’m not done.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, thrusting steadily into you while letting you hear all the needy, wanton noises he’s making for you.

“You wanna know what I hate the most about you?” He presses his palms to the thin mattress, slowing his thrusts, making them more deliberate while his orbs bore into yours. “It’s that I don’t fuckin’ hate you at all.”

Thrust.

“I’ve tried to and I can’t.”

Thrust.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Thrust.

“I hate that I can’t get you out of my head.”

Thrust.

“I hate that you’re so ready to risk your life,”

Thrust.

“Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Thrust.

He lowers himself down, resting on his forearm, while his other hand finds your waist and his forehead falls against yours, his eyes closing.

“I hate that I’ve pushed you so far away,” his voice cracks and he swallows, “because I hate knowing that I can’t have you.”

“Katsuki,” you say his name like a prayer, resting your hands on either side of his neck. “You can,” you say shakily, tears pricking your waterline as you open your eyes to see a single tear sliding over his cheek. You swipe it away with your thumb, squeezing the back of his neck gently as a means of reassurance.

“I can’t,” he breaks, like a used match. All that combustive energy disappears just before he snaps in two. “I can’t,” he repeats, with less fervor than his first insistence.

“Why not?” You implore, pleading with damp eyes while you gently stroke the hair at his nape.

His eyes open as he lifts his head away from yours, smiling sadly as the hand on your waist moves to cup your face, “Because I’ve fucked this up too bad already, princess. I can’t blame you for hating me,” he laughs once, a bitter sound as his eyes fall between you. “I hate me too.”

“Don’t say that,” your voice is barely above a whisper, a sob following your words as you realize that he actually means that. “Katsuki,” you rest your hand on the side of his face, lifting his eyes to yours. “I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you.”

“You don’t?” His eyes are desperately searching your face, actively seeking any deception while a small spark lights behind his eyes.

“No,” you smile, laughing quietly, soft and sad as a tear rolls down your face. “You piss me off, that’s true. But I don’t hate you. I just—,” you sigh, trying to find the words while he waits with bated breath. “It’s like looking into a mirror. We’re so similar and I can see all the ways that we’re the same, but also different. I see my recklessness, but I see your bravery. I see my impatience, but I see your unwillingness to put up with any shit. I see my ego, but on you I see the confidence that you deserve to carry. I see all my faults, but then I can’t help but see how much everything that I hate about me is exactly what I love about you.” You swallow hard, willing yourself to hold his gaze, “I don’t hate you at all, Katsuki. I love you.”

His hand pushes into your hair, his lips finally colliding with yours as his hips pick up and move again with renewed vigor. He’s thrusting into you like he’s finally found a place to call home between your thighs while his mouth moves in tandem with yours, exchanging a conversation that can’t be spoken with words. You watch everything in a haze, too lost in the moment, too far gone to know who ends where. Not an ounce of clarity hits you until you feel the tightly wound coil, burning white hot in your belly about to snap, but you don’t dare try to rob him of your lips.

You arch into your release, his mouth hungrily swallowing the cries that spill from you as he fucks you through it. He pulls back, running a soothing hand through your hair while he watches your face contort beneath him, his hips stuttering as his own end finds him in watching your bliss unfold. He slips out just in time for his cock to spray his warm, thick seed along the inside of your thigh, his hand working to ensure every last drop leaks out while you watch in your fucked out state, half-lidded eyes admiring the mess you’ve made of the number two pro hero.

He leans down, eyes still full with fiery intention as he kisses you once more, slow and deep while he settles between your legs, his torso pressed flush to yours. The pad of his thumb drags carefully against your jaw as his hand rests on your neck.

“I love you too,” he smiles softly, appreciating the way your smile reaches your eyes as the words leave his tongue.

A knock at the door calls the attention of both of you, bursting your dreamlike bubble.

“You guys alive in there?” Kirishima calls before the handle on the door jiggles and you cling to Bakugou, who’s quick to respond.

“You better keep that damn door shut, dumbass! We’re havin’ a heart-to-heart in here,” he smirks back at you, leaning down to kiss along your collarbone as the red head’s voice carries through the door again.

“Wait, seriously?”

Bakugou groans quietly, before barking back, “Oi, what did I say? Get lost before I come out there and blast you down the hallway!”

You slap lightly at his chest, shushing him with a quiet giggle, to which he responds with a wolfish grin, delivering a decisive slap to your ass while his lips reattach to your collarbone, working towards your neck.

The sound of boots receding can be heard outside the door as Bakugou whispers huskily, “Wanna join me in the shower?”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog, or leave a comment if you enjoyed 🧡

& please be sure to check out the other entries for this collab! There are many other talented humans who participated 🧡