#no a/n we die like men

[morningsharksworld]

Neon Lights? PT.4

Hazard x PunkSinger! Reader

Summary: Hazard decides to take you somewhere else calmer.

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Hazard paced the garage, his heavy boots thudding against the floor. His leather jacket creaked as he moved, frustration etched across his face.

"Where the hell am I supposed tae take them?" he muttered, running a hand through his blonde hair. His accent thickened when he was annoyed, words coming out sharp and clipped. "Can’t be anywhere too fancy—don’t want them thinkin’ I’m some posh git. But it cannae be a dive either. Fuckin’ hell..."

Sitting cross-legged on the workbench, Boomslang smirked, her boots tapping against the metal frame. "Y'know, if you stopped overthinking this, you might actually figure it out” she said, her tone light, teasing. "Just take them to a caf�� or somethin’. Nice and easy. Neutral ground."

Hazard stopped pacing and fixed her with a skeptical look. "A café? Are ye daft? That’s pure boring. What if they think I don’t give a damn?"

Boomslang rolled her eyes. "Haz, not everyone’s expectin’ explosions and chaos every second. It’s about keepin’ it chill. You don’t need to impress them with a parade."

He frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Aye, but cafés... I dunno. Feels too... soft."

"Exactly why it’s perfect" Boomslang countered, smirking. "Show them you’ve got more than just the leather-jacket, gang-member act. Trust me, they’ll appreciate it."

Hazard let out a frustrated sigh but finally relented. "Fine, fine. A café it is. But if this goes tits up, it’s on ye."

Boomslang laughed, throwing up her hands. "Don’t worry, champ. If it bombs, I’ll buy you a round to drown your sorrows."

=====

The café turned out to be quieter than you expected. The warm, inviting lighting gave the place a cozy ambiance, the faint scent of roasted coffee mixing with hints of vanilla and cinnamon. It wasn’t the kind of spot you’d imagine Hazard frequenting—he looked out of place.You arrived first, settling into a booth tucked away in the corner. The barista had just brought over your tea when the bell over the door jingled. You glanced up, and your eyes widened at the sight.

Hazard walked in, but gone were the torn leather jacket and chains. Instead, he was dressed in a soft, oversized hoodie, sweatpants that looked like they might’ve come straight out of a lazy Sunday afternoon, and sneakers that were suspiciously clean. His blonde hair was tucked under a knitted beanie, and for once, his posture was relaxed, almost casual. He spotted you immediately, his face breaking into that familiar grin as he made his way over. “Hope I’m not late” he said, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Not at all” you replied, still trying to reconcile the Hazard in front of you with the one you’d come to know. “I just... wasn’t expecting this.”

He raised an eyebrow, his grin turning playful. “What, were ye expectin’ me tae show up in full Phreak gear? Thought I’d give yer poor heart a break today.”

You laughed, gesturing to his outfit. “I mean, I didn’t think you even owned sweatpants. You look like you’re ready for a Netflix marathon, not a café.”

Hazard chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Can’t be struttin’ around in leather all the time—gets a wee bit much for the heat, and besides” he smirked, “I hear the ‘comfy’ look is all the rage these days. Figured I’d try tae keep up.”

You shook your head, smiling as you sipped your tea. “Well, it’s definitely unexpected. But I’ll give you this—it suits you.”

He tilted his head, his grin softening. “Aye? Well, maybe I’m just tryin’ tae impress ye.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. “Sure, Hazard. You’re definitely here to impress me, not because you secretly love a good cappuccino.”

He laughed, a sound that felt unguarded, real. “Ye’ve caught me. Fine. Maybe i do love a good cappuccino. But don’t tell the lads—they’d never let me hear the end of it.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. You talked about the chaos of tour life, and Hazard shared stories about his quieter moments with the Phreaks—nights spent fixing up their hideout, impromptu movie marathons and they’re helpful ‘charity work’.

“You’d like ‘em” he said, stirring the last of his coffee. “They’re a pain in the arse sometimes, but they’re good folk. Loyal. And they’ve got this habit of takin’ care o’ each other, even when they’re bein’ daft.”

“I can tell” you replied, resting your chin on your hand. “The way you talk about them—it’s clear you really care.”

He shrugged, but the flicker of vulnerability in his expression didn’t go unnoticed. “They’re family, aye? Maybe not by blood, but that doesn’t matter much. Ye look out for yer own.”

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I get that. Being on tour, my band and crew—they’re like family, too. It’s not always easy, but... you find ways to make it work.”

Hazard studied you for a moment, his gaze unusually serious. “Ye’ve got a good heart, love. That much is obvious.”

Your cheeks warmed under his compliment, and you quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the menu. “And you’ve got a way with words, don’t you?”

Hazard could only lean back, arms resting casually on the table, but his gaze was sharp as it settled on you. “Y’know, I’m impressed with ye.”

You raised a brow, tilting your head slightly. “Oh? What for?”

“The way ye carry yerself” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "On stage, ye're aw fire an' fury—screamin' yer heart oot like ye're ready tae tear the place doon. But offstage? Calm, collected, like nothin' could rattle ye."

You chuckled softly, running a hand through your hair. “Gotta keep the chaos contained somewhere, right? Besides, someone’s gotta keep things in order when the band’s running wild.”

And that he knew well off.

===

As the two of you stepped out of the café, the cool evening air hit you like a sudden wave, causing you to shiver involuntarily. You hadn’t expected the drop in temperature, and the light jacket you’d thrown on earlier wasn’t doing much to keep the chill at bay.

Hazard glanced over, sharp as ever, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Yer freezin’, hen?.”

“I’m fine” you lied, rubbing your arms for warmth.

“Ach, don’t be stubborn” he said with a smirk, already shrugging out of his hoodie. In one smooth motion, he tugged it over his head, revealing the black tank top underneath.

Your breath caught for a moment as you took in the sight of his broad shoulders and defined arms, muscles flexing slightly as he handed you the hoodie. It wasn’t flashy or overly showy—just solid, real strength that came from years of hard living.

“Here” he said, holding it out to you. "Won’t have ye catchin’ a cold on ma watch."

“Are you sure?” you asked, hesitating as you reached for it. “You’ll freeze without it.”

“I’ll manage” he replied with an easy grin, his voice low and warm. “Besides, I think I can handle a wee bit o’ cold better than you.”

Reluctantly, you slipped the hoodie on, the oversized fabric engulfing you in warmth. It smelled faintly of him—coffee, leather, and something undeniably Hazard.

“Better?” he asked, watching you pull the sleeves over your hands.

“Much” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “Thanks, Hazard.”

“No bother” he said, leaning back against a lamppost, the faint glow casting shadows over his sharp features. His tank top clung to his frame, and though he didn’t say anything about it, the slight curve of his lips told you he’d noticed you noticing.

“You’re not bad at this whole ‘gentleman’ thing, you know” you teased, trying to regain a bit of your composure.

He chuckled, crossing his arms in a way that made his muscles stand out even more. “Don’t let it get around, aye? I’ve got a reputation tae keep.”

You rolled your eyes, but the grin tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

As the two of you finally reached the point where your paths diverged, Hazard glanced at you one last time, his expression softer now. “Keep it, if ye want” he said, nodding toward the hoodie. “Looks better on ye anyway.”

“Don’t push your luck” you shot back, though the warmth in your tone dulled the sharpness of the words.

He laughed, the sound low and rich, and gave you a quick wink. “Worth a shot.”

Hazard walked beside you, his hands tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. For a man who commanded a room with his presence, he was surprisingly unassuming now, blending easily into the quiet street.

“You know” you said, breaking the silence, “this was nice. A lot nicer than I expected.”

Hazard raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. “Ye thought it’d be terrible, did ye?”

“I thought it’d be... chaotic” you admitted with a grin. “But I’m glad it wasn’t”

“Well” he said, his tone teasing, “I’m glad I managed tae surprise ye. But I cannae promise I’ll always be this calm. Chaos is kinda my thing, after all.”

You laughed, pulling your phone from your pocket. “I think I can handle a little chaos. But I’m on the move again soon, so if you’ve got more surprises up your sleeve, you’ll have to text me about them.”

“Ye want tae keep in touch?”

“Why not?” you said with a shrug. “Tour gets lonely sometimes. Besides, it’s not every day I meet someone like you.”

For once, he seemed at a loss for words, his usual bravado faltering. “Aye, well... ye’ve got my number now. Use it whenever ye feel like it.”

“I will” you said with a smile. “I’ll try not to blow up your inbox too much.”

“Ach, blow it up all ye want” he replied with a grin, his confidence returning. “Better tae hear from ye than tae wonder what ye’re up tae.”

With that, the two of you exchanged goodbyes, and as you walked away, the oversized hoodie wrapped snugly around you, you couldn’t help but glance back once. Hazard was still standing there, hands tucked into his sweatpants pockets, watching you with an easy, unshaken confidence.

.

.

.

.

.

New Message from: Hazard ☢️💜

“Before you run off, meet me at the usual spot. One last pint, one last chat, aye? Call it a send-off. Or maybe just me bein’ selfish and not wantin’ to wait months to see yer face again.

I want to take you somewhere nicer”

[pupkashi]

satoru comeback truthers rise WHERE IS UR RAGE !!!

youre still slightly shaking, even with one hand in your lovers warmer one, you can’t help but feel the same fear you felt when you saw him laying in two.

“sweetheart” his voice is honey like, smoothing your sore throat as you look up at him, face dirty and scarred. “i asked if you wanna get pho?”

it’s odd, coming back home as if nothing happened. as if he hadn’t just had the battle of a lifetime and almost lost. your legs feel wobbly and that sinking pit in your stomach is back. you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, playing it off as you thinking.

“yeah pho sounds good” you say weakly, not taking your eyes off of satoru as he leads you to the couch. he tries to untangle your fingers from his, stopping when he feels your squeeze harder to keep his hand in place.

he doesn’t say anything, instead ordering with one hand, drawing a soothing circle with his thumb on your hand. satoru can feel your eyes on him, practically burning a hole into his skull with the intensity of your stare. he doesn’t mind, he can’t imagine how you felt, thinking he was dead for who knows how long. god knows what he would’ve done if the roles were reversed.

“ordered it, should be here in an hour ish” he whispers, pulling you close and laying back on the couch. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, careful to not squeeze too hard as he was still sore and bruised.

thump, thump, thump.

the rhythmic beating is enough to calm you for a moment, your hands are less shaky and you feel like you can finally breathe. your eyes shut for a second, only to be met with the scene of satoru laying on ground. your eyes are shooting open immediately, making you sit up straight and giving satoru a once over, relieved to see he was really there.

“hey, im right here” he’s as gentle as ever, hands finding yours and squeezing tight. “im not going anywhere” he’s promises, placing one of your hands over his warm chest, the rhythmic beating of his heart calms you once more.

“‘m sorry” you choke out, wiping your eyes quickly before smiling softly, “was just- it was a lot” you mumble, “i thought-” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, satoru doesn’t make you, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

the two of you stay like that for a while, taking turns holding each other, comforting one another and placing endless kisses on each others faces. it felt like only a moment had passed in comparison to the eternity you felt without satoru.

satoru notices the way your eyes linger on him, the way you’re looking at him every couple minutes as the two of you eat soup in silence. it hurts his heart, seeing you so afraid and traumatized, he wishes he could go back in time and make sure they kept you away from any screens.

the season finale of the show you two had been watching doesn’t matter to you much anymore, barely paying attention to it. your focus is instead on the white haired man laying practically on top of you, mindlessly eating some popcorn you’d made for him.

your fingers are tangled in his hair, somehow still soft despite everything he went through. satoru can feel your eyes on him, of course he can. he wonders if you’re looking at his scarred skin, if you’re too scared to even continue a relationship with him.

“you should shower” your comment is what breaks the silence and interrupts satoru’s spiraling thoughts.

“huh?” there’s genuine confusion in his voice. is that really what you were thinking about? “are you calling me stinky?” he teases, testing the waters.

“grimy, actually” a small smile creeping on your lips. it makes satoru’s heart glow, a wide grin on his lips as he sees your smile.

“your words cut deep” he pouts, quickly smiling again when you roll your eyes at his familiar antics. “even sukuna didn’t hurt me this much” the words make you gasp, smacking him slightly and pushing him off the couch.

“uncalled for!” you laugh, shrieking when satoru stands from the floor and picks you up swiftly. he doesn’t think k twice before peppering kisses over your face and nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“now you’re stinky too!” he wastes no time in heading to the restroom, with you still in his arms (hardly putting up a fight). he sets you on the counter softly, bending down to be eye level with you. his nose is only centimeters from yours, and you can’t resist the urge to rub yours against his.

satoru giggles at your action; the noise alone puts your heart at ease, the weight on your shoulders lifted and things felt right.

for the time the two of you are in the restroom life is perfect again. even when satoru takes his shirt off, visibly nervous about the new scar across his torso, you’re too happy to have him there to care.

“you don’t think it looks, i don’t know, ugly?” he’s avoiding eye contact and you can’t help but laugh softly. the sound makes his head snap towards you immediately, relaxing when you take his hands in his and pull him closer.

“you could never look ugly, angel boy” you mumble, kissing his lips. “i think it looks good, actually” you grin, wiggling your eyebrows and making his cheeks flush pink. satoru wastes no time kissing you again, giggling against your lips.

the hot water hits his skin and it feels like a godsend, making hums sigh in relief.

“told you you should shower” you tease, making your lover grin at your words. he waves you off gently, relishing in the feeling. “c’mere let me shampoo you.”

satoru doesn’t hesitate, a faint smile on his lips when your fingers scratch his scalp. maybe it’s the steam enshrouding the two of you, or seeing you change into his clothes, or smelling the clean bedsheets again, or being home- regardless of the reason satoru finally feels free.

there’s no stress on his shoulders from the higher ups or his clan, he’s not afraid of his students getting hurt anymore, he’s not afraid of losing you.

“i love you sweetheart” he whispers. you’ve been asleep for a while now, your head on his chest with your arms wrapped tightly around him. maybe it was weird but he didn’t care, he spent the night tracing your features with his eyes, memorizing any noise you made and the way you breathed.

satoru’s eyes watered, grateful to be back home. his eyes wandering to his sock drawer, tomorrow he’ll pull out the small velvet box he bought a year ago.

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[spookyrea]

You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger...

You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)

a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!

Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY

You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.

Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home. 

(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).

An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache and, coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.

The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”

The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl. 

Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.

You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.

“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”

You sank low in your seat, arms crossed, and focused very hard on glaring a hole in the quid-jet floor. Who knows -- maybe you could spontaneously develop heat-vision. It would look good on your resume.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”

Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.  

Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.

“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.

You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”

“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.

“You are evil.”

“You should have me locked up.”

You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”

Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”

A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot. 

Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”

Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box. 

You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.

Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.

(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)

Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.

Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind. 

Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.

Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway. 

You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off. 

Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead. 

(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)

You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.

He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.

The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?

You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.

It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.

His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”

The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.

“After you, pet.”

You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.

You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.

Something was… off.

You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.

The jacket though… 

He filled it out well. Too well.

“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.

Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”

Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.

The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”

You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.

The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.

He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”

You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”

“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”

“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”

“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”

“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.

“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.

In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”

You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”

Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”

The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.

When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.

“How long have you been here, buddy?”

As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.

As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight. 

You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.

You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.

Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”

“You have your own bed.”

“It’s too big without you.”

“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”

Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”

“Try again.”

“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”

You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”

An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.

You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.

You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.

“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”

“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.

You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”

Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”

Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”

A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved- 

You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.

You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”

You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.

His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”

Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you. 

You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.

You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”

“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”

“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.

“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”

You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”

“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.

When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.

“What was that?”

“Nothing important.” 

“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”

Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”

“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”

You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”

Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.

As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs. 

You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.

“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.

“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”

You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.

PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.

It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.

A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.” 

“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”

“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”

“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”

PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.

“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”

The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”

“Something wrong?”

“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”

PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning. 

You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”

“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.

You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed. 

You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.

Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.

You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.

Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.

You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.

You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.

You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense.

The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.

“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”

Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”

“Absolutely.”

Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.

“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”

His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”

Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”

Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”

“Loki! Be-have.”

“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”

You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.

When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.

“PAL, did you do this?”

He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.

[glossgojo]

he looks like he works with his hands (part 1/2)

pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 4.6k words

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, AFAB reader, , age gap, ex-babysitter reader, oral fem-receiving, pussy drunk joel, manhandling, abusive ex-boyfriend, some violence, protective joel, panic attack, anxiety

a/n: alright listen up, i seem to have a thing for joel giving y/n head first and then getting his fill, that being said expect a very detailed part two :) this first part is mostly plot and some smut, i plan on making this a two parter but it might be longer

“jesus christ almighty” joel muttered under his breath taking in your frame from where he stood leaned against his truck. he knew you were coming to visit, sarah had screamed when you called and nearly given him a heart attack. you were back in austin for grad school, the sweet girl you were you visited sarah as soon as you moved in. you had babysat sarah the summer after you graduated high school and one summer of freshman year, but then your parents moved near your out-of-state college and you never came back. and now you here you were torturing every breath exhaling out of joel’s lungs.

you were dawned in a denim mini skirt and a tight short-sleeved top that fell a bit short of the suggestion of fabric. your midriff was exposed slightly, showing off your honey smooth skin and your legs on display. it would’ve been completely suited for the scorching texas heat, but joel felt his head swim as the clothes clung to your curves and your face lit up after recognizing him.

“joel! you haven’t changed a bit!” your cheeks flushed as you bounded your way up the driveway. joel had to clench his teeth to stop from looking at the bounce that wasn’t just in your step.

“that a good thing I hope? you look well kid.” joel didn’t know why he added that last part, maybe it was a silent reminder to himself that the last time he’d seen you you were just a kid, and whatever he was feeling had to go. he didn’t notice the way your expression dropped a little at the word, you quickly disguised it with a teasing smile.

“thanks and yeah don’t worry sarah keeps you young, well as young as you could be.” you nudged him, moving towards the front door as he huffed out a laugh and you hated the butterflies that followed. you’d been a little bit in love with the man ever since that summer. god you had missed his voice, rough and deep and somehow still filled with all the confidence you wish you had. joel watched you walk to the front door like you were visiting a friend’s place and he had to admit he liked the notion.

joel followed you close behind as he picked out his belongings from his truck. sarah ran down the stairs and you laughed a little bit as she jumped into your arms. joel had to laugh at the theatrics, if he had known better it looked like you were visiting between deployments. “you’re so pretty, how did you get prettier?” sarah rushed out, excited and barely breathing as she spoke. joel couldn’t help but smile when his sweet daughter looked so excited.

“well, i don’t know about all that. i was gonna say the same to you, you grew up into a beautiful young lady. my little sarah’s all grown up.” you brushed a piece of her hair back, just like you remembered she liked it. joel felt his heart warm a little at that, even if it had been years since he’d seen you, you still cared for sarah just as much and that mattered to him. maybe you weren’t the stranger he thought you were. you and sarah caught up in the living room, joel sat and listened interjecting every now and then with questions of his own. you liked the feeling of being with them. you were across the country from your family now, so this semblance of family was all you could cling to. you blushed at the thought that made you could raise sarah like a daughter.

joel had trouble focusing when you shifted in your seat, your mini skirt not doing well to hide the maddening baby pink panties you had on. he was sure he was red, but he could explain that away by heat or a tan if he needed to. you weren’t any better, losing your focus when you saw him cross his muscular arms.

“do you wanna stay for dinner?” sarah asked and your face pouted a little as you braced yourself to disappoint the girl. her big brown eyes clung onto every word you said when you spoke next.

“i really would love to and thank you so much for the offer sarah-bear, but my highschool friends roped me into drinks with them at 9.”

“have dinner first, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.” he said it like it was a command less than a question, his voice gruff and your mouth dried up as you nodded obediently.

joel had asked tommy to pick up food on his way over, you hadn’t realized that since it was friday night you would be interrupting their family night. when you asked joel if it was fine for you to stay he leveled you with a pointed look, “don’t be ridiculous doll.” and you shut well up at that. doll. it wasn’t quite what you needed but it wasn’t kid. doll you could work with. doll would creep its way into your dreams and the hours before sleep when your core burned from need, from a hunger for him.

with that you sat down and chatted with tommy and he was just the same, hotheaded but kindhearted over everything. he spoke it like he saw it and tommy got kicked in shin by his dear big brother when he took one look at you and said “dam-“ you couldn’t even hide your expression in time, making joel snicker.

dinner felt normal, as if you hadn’t stepped through the door after 4 years. tommy had gone through some girlfriends while joel had remained single. you would hold onto that fact like the last hope for your sanity. sarah was in middle school now, she had troubles of her own. you listened to her gossip like it was your own, interjecting with your own advice, and joel couldn’t understand how you were so enraptured by it. maybe there were some things he just couldn’t help sarah with.

after what felt like far too short of a dinner, you had to make your way to the pub. you helped clean up with joel while tommy and sarah sat in the living room.

“do you need a ride?” you rotated the thought in your mind, you being stuck with joel in a small space. you’d rather not, after all your roommate promised that you had a ride home.

“i was just gonna drive over and my friend is picking us all up after.”

“alright take my number just in case.” you flushed at his words, he kept demanding you do this and that and because you were fucking gone for him you listened. it was his voice you told yourself, not his heady musk or his big brown eyes staring you down. you let him write his number down on a piece of paper and you nodded with a meek thanks as you took it from him. his hand brushed against yours it was so much larger than yours, they had calluses and scrapes on them. you had always admired joel for his work, and his hands showed exactly how hard he worked for his daughter. you’d thought about his hands more often than you’d admit over the years.

you gathered your belongings from where they were strewn about over the couch, joel had to hold back a groan as you bent over a little too much for his sanity. you said goodbye to tommy and hugged sarah telling her you’d be over more often since she wasn’t far now. joel considered asking you to babysit again but he didn’t want to detract from your studies. if you offered he wouldn’t turn it down. sarah was adamant she didn’t need one but he’d rather you look after her than his well-intentioned bible-thumping neighbors.

joel felt like he’d already crossed the line of friendly employer or even anything you two had before so he had to stop himself from insisting you take one of his jackets to wear out. it wouldn’t get cold but you’d be drunk and probably chillier than you realized, not to mention a small part of him wanted you to cover up when you went out. joel very pointedly ignored that incessant primitive part of his mind.

he did however watch until you got into the car and drove away, as if something would happen to you between the short walk over. your heart was beating as you left the miller’s house. you would have to shake joel’s scent and gruff voice out of your senses, you could feel them seeping into your bones making your head dizzy.

you needed to drink.

catching up with your high school friends was the distraction you needed. you had been in contact with them through the years but there was nothing close to being in front of them. hours ebbed and flowed as you drank and chatted. you felt a buzz but you weren’t drunk, your lips were loose as you told them how your high school crush had returned with more force than ever.

the drinks weren’t enough to dissuade the panic that dripped down from your head as your eyes landed on a familiar figure entering the bar. your ex-boyfriend had just walked in and your body went into flight or fight. your friends noticed your gaze and groaned as they took in your issue. your friend was speaking, their words far away and faded, only when they shook your arm did you hear them, “y/n are you okay, we can leave?” you didn’t want your friends to end their reunion because of you, if he approached you, you would just leave by yourself.

“i’m fine, hopefully he doesn’t recognize me.” you doubted it very much, he had tormented you for two years and took any chance to continue after you broke up. despite your anxiety being spiked you managed to make conversation with your friends, speaking quietly so as to not bring attention to yourself. it all became too much when you flinched when he looked in your direction. you were feeling more anxious than ever, excusing yourself to the bathroom to collect yourself.

as you walked away you broke into a run, scared that he would see you and follow you. instead of feeling better you felt anxiety wrack your body as you practically slammed into the bathroom. all your memories of your relationship flooded into your mind as you entered a stall and felt your breathing stop and your head rush as your vision blurred. you were having a panic attack and your heart was beating irregularly, were you dying? oh god, your hands shook as you pulled out the piece of paper joel had handed you earlier and your cell phone and typed in the number without thinking. it was now 11:30pm, joel was probably asleep. you couldn’t stop yourself as your shaking fingers pressed call

two dials later and the call connected, “joel i’m sorry for bothering you but could you pick me up.” you rushed out, your breathing labored as you struggled to calm yourself down.

“hey sweetheart, calm down, where are you? i’m coming over.” you felt tears prick your eyes as you tried to listen to his soothing cadence and his assured words. sweetheart. you were joel miller’s sweetheart, you could get through this.

“i-i’m at Donn’s, my ex is here im in the bathroom right now.” your voice sounded weak, you sounded like a scared little kid and it made you cringe, meanwhile joel was feeling anger rise at your statement. he had remembered how awful the kid was, he’d kept his thoughts to himself but when you eventually broke up everyone was happy about it. he was already out the door when you spoke, now he’d be speeding.

“i’m on the way, stay on the phone, what did you have to drink?” you wiped your stray tears as you felt your anxiety subside, joel’s voice and the distance you had put between your ex and yourself, grounding you. you babbled to joel, every now and then he’d throw in a follow-up question or a hum of acknowledgment, it all felt so normal you ached to talk to him like this more often. joel was calming you down, keeping you distracted, he was the only thing keeping you from another panic attack and you almost sobbed at that over the phone.

“hey joel?”

“yeah doll?” a shiver traveled down your spine at the pet name. you were so gone for him.

“thank you for this, i owe you.”

“you don’t owe me anything, i’d do it again.” you don’t know if that was joel’s southern hospitality or if he really meant it, either way you’d let that statement soothe you.

“i’m almost there, just pulling into the parking lot, take your time coming out alright, i’ll meet you inside?” you could hear him pulling into the parking lot rather quickly, you exhaled slowly as you told him you were coming and exited the stall. you quickly made your way to your friends, telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you would be heading home early. you told them that joel was picking you and you would’ve laughed at their reaction if not for the anxiety crawling back up your spine.

you waved them goodbye moving towards the door when your vision was blocked, you looked up to meet the eyes of your ex. your stomach dropped as your mouth went dry and you opened to speak, to try and get away but you were frozen in place. “hey babe, you miss me?”

“i’m not your babe.” you gritted out, trying to move past him when he raised an arm across your middle and you felt like throwing up.

“come on you’re still mad? i was just a kid.” anger bubbled up in your throat and your eyes stinged from frustration.

“get away from me.” you hated his touch, you wanted to scrub your body and push away the memories it brought back.

“such a fucking bitch, you still think you’re too good for me huh? you’re still as busted and arrogant as ever.” your vision was blurring and you couldn’t breathe, you looked down to your feet wishing that you could be anywhere but here.

“y/n.” joel’s voice brought you back to reality, you looked up, looking over your ex’s shoulder to see joel. he took one look at your watery eyes and crushed expression and saw red. your ex turned to meet joel’s glare.

“who the fuck is this?” you didn’t speak, your voice was caught in your throat but you took his distraction as a chance to move away. you quickly moved around him, standing next to joel as your ex turned towards both of you.

“let’s go.” joel ignored him, looking at you and trying not to break the fucker’s jaw. you could see joel was seething, his chest rising and falling and his brows furrowed in anger. you’d never seen him so upset, and you knew it wasn’t pointed at you because his eyes softened when they met yours.

“hold on pal i’m talking to you, you fucking her? she’s a slut don’t waste your time.” your ex put a hand on joel’s shoulder, trying to charm him and joel took one look at the guy before landing his fist square in his jaw. your ex dropped in a blink of your eye and you gasped as joel ground out a threat.

“don’t talk to her ever again, you hear?” your ex nodded furiously from where he lay on the ground, rushing out a yes in between a string of curses. you let joel pull you away, your ex crying out and wailing in pain as you left. you couldn’t think as you followed joel, his hand on yours. it enclosed yours fully, rough and warm around your hand and you let it distract you.

joel miller had just punched your ex and rescued you, you couldn’t think straight blinded by one thought and one thought only. you just wanted to-your hands found his face as you stopped in front of the passenger door, you moved quickly as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. joel’s expression changed from anger to confusion and then something else you couldn’t place in the streetlight lit parking lot. and then you felt panic as he didn’t look particularly happy with your actions.

“i’m sorry we can forget-“ you leaned against the closed door, removing your hands and creating some distance for him.

“no darlin’ don’t apologize, just wondering if you’ll remember this tomorrow.” joel could taste whiskey on your lips, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he took advantage of you being drunk.

“joel, i’ve never felt more sober.”

“good.” he took the hand that had been holding yours, the one that didn’t touch your ex and tilted your chin up, and your eyes met his. they were looked like honey and you wanted to swim in them. joel leaned his head, brushing his lips against yours and you could feel his facial hair scrape against your soft skin. it lit a fire within you. your arms came up around his neck, his hand moving to the small of your back, deliciously pulling you closer and you gasped into his mouth. joel tasted like heaven, just his breath alone was making you dizzy as you let him explore your mouth and make your lips mold to his. despite his intimidating exterior, joel kissed you like you were the only person on earth, taking his time to draw gasps from you and when his mouth moved off yours to dip under your jaw you lost your mind. your hands came up to press his head into the space between your head and your chest, as he littered your skins with kisses and nips. you whined out his name, your legs shaking as you raked your hands through his hair, probably leaving it as a mess. you opened your eyes to take him in, his lips puffy and his hair a mess, his breathing was as hard as yours and his big brown eyes had darkened.

“joel, please.” your hands were still in his hair, as you whispered into the fraction between your lips between sloppy kisses.

“please what doll?” did you have to say it? joel could read your mind, your thoughts written on your face from your cloudy eyes to your parted puffy lips. you looked wrecked and all he had done was kiss you. joel didn’t think he could hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be sure. you shivered as he leaned back, his warmth leaving you and his piercing gaze making you squirm. you managed to cough up the courage to speak next.

“come back to my place, my roommate is at her boyfriend’s place.” joel’s eyes flashed with desire, his hand shooting out to your hip, grazing the exposed patch of skin above your skirt and opening the passenger door. you shivered against at the feel of his hand against you, god you were pathetic but at least you could blame it on the slight chill of the night.

“get in.” you didn’t think twice as you turned to get in, joel holding the door open for you and feeling his sanity crumble when your damn skirt hiked up again. when joel got into the car you began to take in everything that happened.

“is your hand okay?” he’d been carefully keeping it away from you and when he was driving. it didn’t look broken under the city lights but you could bet it hurt.

“yeah it’s fine don’t worry.” he showed you to prove his point, besides some bruises on his knuckles, his hand did look fine.

“you, uhm thank you.” you couldn’t articulate just how much it all meant to you and you didn’t know how to start thanking him for every single thing he did. joel nodded at your words, not really thinking he needed to be thanked.

“if he ever comes near your again, or if anyone talks to you like that, you come to me alright?” you swallowed down, meeting his gaze at the red light. you felt heat travel south, the prospect of joel being there for you if anyone disrespected you made you clench your legs together. pressure building in your core, joel had to hold back a smirk as he watched you squirm in the seat.

“yeah i will.” your voice sounded breathy, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you wanted the car ride to be over so you could feel his lips against yours again. you needed him so badly your hands itched to find home in his hair again.

the rest of the car ride was silent, only interrupted by you giving him directions to get to your apartment.

you made your way to the apartment with joel following you closely behind, his eyes not moving from the view of your curves. you unlocked your door, throwing your pursed on your couch and turning towards joel, he took in your place. there were unopened boxes strewn about and minimal furtiniture but the place was plenty big for two students.

“can i get you something to drink?” you stood against the back of your sofa, looking at joel when he met your gaze. his stepped towards you, hands finding purchase on your hips, his thumbs grazed your skin and you felt dizzy looking into his eyes.

“just you.” confusion flashed on your face replaced quickly by awe as joel sank to his knees in front of you, looking up at you for any sign of disapproval. you nod, in a daze, joel presses kisses up your legs as you lean back on the sofa for support, your legs feeling weak at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. you couldn’t believe this was happening.

joel’s face was at the height of your pussy, his hands on your hips to pull down your skirt, and you whined at the feeling of his hands on you, moving you to his will. you'd fantasized about the rough pads of his fingers against your clit, scraping against you relentlessly until you unfolded for him. joel pulled them down in one swift motion and was met with the sight of your infuriating hot pink panties. “fucking hell these have been torturing me all day.” you found your voice moments later as you processed what he said.

“you like them?” his fingers traced the edges so gently, punctuating your sentence with a snap of the waistband against your hip, you gaspedz

“like isn’t the word i’d use but they definitely made an impact,”

“i wore them for you.” you were barely processing your thoughts before they were spilling out of your mouth.

“yeah? you’re flattering me sweetheart.” joel’s fingers ghosted over your pussy making you twitch under his barely there touch.

“no i mean it, i’ve wanted you ever since i’ve known you.” you were leaning into his touch, preening at the small contact, joel’s lips twitched at your desperation.

“god amn’t i too old for you?,” joel wanted so badly not to think that what he was doing was wrong, but when you looked at him like that he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. you should’ve been with someone your own age.

“joel please, you're the hottest man i’ve ever known.”

“such a sweet talker baby, that’ll get you places.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed your clit over your underwear, you clenched on air when he called you baby. if he didn’t touch you, you might just come in your underwear.

“i hope s-so, oh god.” you whined out as he stuck his tongue out dampening the spot where your clit was, the pressure of his tongue on your clit even over the fabric made you moan. you felt like crying from his teasing, it was becoming too much for you. and joel sensed it as he pulled your underwear down on one swift moment, leaving you bare centimeters from his face.

“so pretty, angel.” you whined out, your hand coming down to intertwine in his brown curls, trying to ground yourself. joel tapped the inside of your knee, silently asking you to widen your stance while the other hand, the one he had just used to punch your ex clasped around the back of your other knee and lifted it over his left shoulder. you gasped at the spread, at the feeling of being so exposed for him but joel didn’t give you a chance to think too hard about it. his mouth pressed against your clit and you gasped at his mustache grazing your sensitive skin. on top of the maddening desire you had for him he was scratching against you, adding to your craze.

joel sucked on your clit, his tongue circling and stroking you until you cried out his name, he wasn’t letting you off so easily as his mouth moved south. his tongue licked up your folds, his mouth collecting all the arousal that threatened to drip for you. as if he was a dehydrated and starved man, joel moved impossibly closer pushing you against the back of the couch until it dug into your back and drank you in like it was all he had. his tongue lapping you up and delving into you for more, you kept giving him more and more and joel didn’t think he could ever have enough. you tasted so damn good, he’d remember your taste for days, for years, he’d let it haunt him as long as he could. your eyes rolled to the back of your head when joel decided it wasn’t enough, his other hand coming to raise your other leg onto your shoulder, his head now crushed between your thighs. your arms shook as you kept yourself hoisted up on the back of your couch. joel didn’t care, he wanted to drown on your ichor, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could continue tasting you. the desperation in his actions and his relentless mouth on you made you cum, your arms burned as they held you up and you tried not to squeeze joel between your thighs but you couldn’t help it. joel removed one of your thighs from his shoulder, watching you shake from the overstimulation as he lapped up your come.

“you taste like heaven darlin’” you couldn’t form a sentence you only whined out his name as you took in his slickness jaw and glistening facial hair. you were all over his face and you felt like crying. you removed your other leg and tugged at his shoulder for him to stand, joel used the back of the sofa to help him stand, crowding you against it. you looked at him desperately, you didn’t want this to end, you could feel his hard-on press against you. but you couldn’t think. joel was looking at you like you were god’s single most beautiful creation.

“are you gonna let me fuck you pretty girl?” his drawl made his words come out slurred as he whispered them in the space you shared between your mouths, he sounded drunk and you could smell your cum on his breath. you nodded furiously, your eyes wide and joel felt like you were the most willing prey and he was a predator. he couldn’t find it in himself to care, lifting you by the back of your knees and letting you point him to your bedroom.

NEXT PART ->

[aleixis]

how do we feel about harem boy!ness x empress!reader !!!

okay so !!! imagine reader who's the ruler of an empire the size of an entire continent and half, she and her ruthless soldiers charging into battle after battle ! ness was a gift given from the emperor of münchen, michael kaiser ( ruler a recently conquered empire ), as a symbol of respect to your empire. ( u even make THE kaiser shiver in his boots omg just who are u !! )

you never really cared for partners, both romantically or in bed, but the gift was accepted as a courtesy. you were hesitant to accept at first, but your political advisor, ( isagi ) recommended you to accept. ness seemed compliant, almost eager to be gifted (honestly, he was just ecstatic that kaiser viewed him valuable enough to be a gift) ! he was so sweet and kind to you ever since your first meeting, even if you paid little to no attention towards him ! that just pushes him to yearn for your validation even more <3

soon enough, ness realizes that he's not the only one desperate for your affection. your harem of 4 other men ( i have no idea who to pick so just imagine its ur other favs ) haven't SLEPT in the same bed as you in a couple months, and they're all yearning for u :( ness has to join the 4 to win your heart over, but how ?!

the others have tried pretty much every trick in the book; seducing you ( which never works, you're always too busy drowning in work ), trying to make you jealous ( you don't care enough to be jealous ), winning you over with gifts ( nothing they gift you can compare to the entire world you have in your hands ), everything ! every move they'll make will spare nothing more than a glance and an occasional laugh from you, never anything more.

so, ness is desperate to change that ! he'll do anything in his power to catch your fancy <33

[lightseoul]

admit it

synopsis. loving him from afar was enough. at least, it should’ve been enough. until it wasn’t. (or, in which you subtly take care of your ex, bakugou katsuki, who also happens to be the namesake of the agency you’re working at) (part 2) (part 3)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old)

word count. 5.0k words

Being the HR Department Head of the Ground Riot agency, you’ve learned to take care of Pro Hero Dynamight in subtle ways.

Primarily because even though he isn’t technically your direct superior—he rarely dabbled in admin work as compared to his co-founder Kirishima Eijirou—you didn’t want to stir up drama or reports on inappropriate workplace relationships.

Especially as the head of the Human Relations department.

But that’s not the only reason.

It’s also because—well, he’s your ex.

The ex who you never really understood in terms of how he became that.

“You know, we really need to redecorate this place.”

Mikuri, your colleague from the PR department, muses as she scans the breakroom from her spot on the L-shaped sofa.

You place the black coffee pods you picked up on your way home yesterday near the coffee machine, “Tell that to Finance. The breakroom decor is probably the least of their worries.”

She merely sighs in response as she reverts her attention to her phone.

“You do know that doom scrolling during your break isn’t exactly resting, right?”

At that, she pouts but doesn’t look up. “I hear you, Ms. HR.”

You playfully roll your eyes at the nickname.

“Stocking up on coffee during one’s break isn’t exactly resting, either.”

At her mention of the beverage, your eyes drift back to the pods you have in your hands. You found that they ran out before your shift ended the day prior and were quick to buy refills.

“What are you doing with that flavor, anyway?” she finally lifts her head to regard you, pocketing her phone as she stands up. You look up at the wall clock—break time’s almost over. “Didn’t you dislike that?”

You smile to yourself, fiddling with capsules. Mikuri was right—you didn’t really like this flavor.

But Katsuki did.

And he still does, you think.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around to see the owner of the familiar voice—Kirishima, decked out in his hero gear, looking like he’s about to head out for patrol.

“Hey! What’s up, Ei?”

He grins, head sticking through the slightly ajar sliding door, “I’m good! ‘s a good thing I ran into you—Bakugou got called out on an emergency mission.”

He nods at Mikuri in greeting, smile still adorning his face, before shifting his gaze back at you. “Looks like it’s still gonna be me and you during the final screening later.”

His eyes dart toward the coffee machine and the freshly stocked pods. Your hips shuffle in front of it before your brain could even catch up.

“Great, see you then!”

With that, Kirishima flashes you a final grin before easing out of the door and heading toward the elevators.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Final screening?” Mikuri whisper-shouts the second Kirishima’s out of sight.

You sigh, collecting the packaging and shoving it into the trash bin. “Sidekicks. He finally got Bakugou to say yes to getting one.”

“Oof, good luck with that.”

“Personally, I think it boils down to these two.”

You thrust forward the two sets of files in front of you, eyeing everyone seated at the oval-shaped meeting table.

“I agree,” your HR subordinate chimes in from the far end of the table.

“I vote for web dude,” another adds. “He’s so much like Bakugou personality-wise. They’d have to click.”

The recruitment head shakes her head, “Yeah, but his quirk doesn’t complement Bakugou’s explosion as much as the girl’s water jet.”

“I know, Yamakawa-san. But did you even see her? She’s so timid, I’ll bet you 5,000 yen that she’ll quit on day 1 of Bakugou shouting at her.”

Murmurs of agreement course through the room, but you’re not paying attention to what they’re whispering to each other.

“I doubt he’ll want someone so similar to him,” you mumble to yourself.

Apparently, you say it loud enough because everyone looks at you in confusion.

Shit.

“I mean, imagine how much of a PR and HR nightmare that will be,” you joke, although it comes out a bit stilted. Fortunately, they, including Kirishima who is seated at your right and at one end of the table, chuckle at your wisecrack.

“Are you voting for the girl, then?” the recruitment head inquires once the laughter dies down.

“Well…” you pause, “I agree that Moriyama-san is remarkably meek and timid, but just from her series of interviews, let alone her practical test, I could see she liked a good challenge.”

You tap her portrait, “Beyond just being a good match for Bakugou’s quirk, she’ll surely step up. And I know for a fact that if there’s anyone who can guarantee that, it’s Katsuki.”

At that, some eyes widen, and you can’t help but tilt your head in confusion at the perplexed looks they’re giving you.

“I mean, Bakugou!” you backtrack, finally realizing your mistake.

Desperate to change the subject, you direct your attention toward Kirishima. “What do you think, Kirishima-san?”

He passes you a knowing smile, one that is too unnerving for your liking, before leaning back on his chair.

“I think you’re right.”

You allow yourself to do some internal chastising the minute the meeting is adjourned.

Hiding your complicated feelings for Bakugou was easy—mainly because you rarely saw him around.

But hiding how much you knew about him?

That’s a whole different story.

“Good work, Y/N,” Kirishima pats you on the shoulder as the rest of your recruitment crew pile to exit the room.

You flash him a thankful smile before hopping on your feet and gathering your documents. “I’m trying not to make you regret hiring me, boss.”

He chuckles good-naturedly before looking away in what you think is reluctance.

“What is it?” you prod, feeling a sense of uneasiness crawl through your spine.

He seems to hesitate before continuing, “I was just gonna say—you always know what’s best for Bakugou.”

At that, your expression falters, and you feel your shoulders tensing at the mention of Bakugou’s name. You refuse to let your hurt (or whatever the fuck it is you’re feeling) show on your face, though.

Instead, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I just want the best for my bosses.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything after that, but you can tell the gears are running in his brain. He simply nods in acknowledgment of your response before heading for the door himself, and you follow suit.

You’re at the doorway, stifling a tired yawn when you lock eyes with the man of the hour himself.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima exclaims in greeting. He encases Bakugou in a bro hug, which the latter begrudgingly accepts. “You got the mission done and over with?”

Bakugou, in all of his costume-decked glory, eyes the redhead and scoffs, “Obviously.”

His eyes flicker to yours. You nod at each other in lieu of a verbal greeting.

“You just missed the meeting,” Kirishima starts, vaguely aware of the palpable tension between the two of you. “We found’em—your first-ever sidekick!”

You almost want to laugh at how Bakugou doesn’t match Kirishima’s energy.

He simply grunts in response.

But Kirishima’s not the type to give up so easily. Instead, he adds: “Y/N made the final decision.”

You stiffen at the mention of your name, Bakugou’s eyes shifting toward you at the same time. You brace yourself for a snarky retort or a lame insult, but nothing comes.

Instead, he merely gives you a firm nod.

“Thanks.”

At that, he makes his way to his corner office.

You were only reminded that your HR personnel was still around when murmurs erupted in Bakugou’s wake.

“Just like that?”

“Wait, he’s in?”

“Wow, never thought he was capable of saying thank you.”

“Yeah, all I get is a halfhearted eye roll.”

The last comment would’ve made you snort if you weren’t too dazed by how uncharacteristic that was of Bakugou. You stand there for what feels like minutes as the others around you start toward their respective offices.

Finally snapping out of the trance the second you realized you were alone in the hallway, you head toward your own office, renewed with the resolve to take your mind off of one Bakugou Katsuki.

You had just the thing to keep yourself busy.

The monthly HR-hosted game night of Ground Riot agency is the one HR activity everyone actually looked forward to.

It’s the one time of the month employees get to let loose during weekdays and bond with colleagues, as well as enjoy free food and drinks, including the occasional booze.

It is also a pain in the ass to organize.

As the HR department head, you technically served as the project head, too, overseeing all of the subcommittees—from programs to logistics—on top of your everyday workload.

Suffice to say, the week before game nights never fails to whoop you in the ass with crushing responsibilities (and for the record, you’re not overreacting—you take your HR events very seriously) but you dare say that the outcomes and seeing everyone enjoy themselves always make it worth it.

For this month, in the spirit of encouraging employee engagement in your department, you let the Recruitment and Selection subdepartment be in charge of the program’s game proper.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Because now your very own HR members are dragging everyone to answer very personal truth-or-dare questions.

And ‘everyone’ happened to include Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou-san!” an employee from the engineering department regards said man, who, by some miracle, has let himself be forced into playing.

Having chosen the ‘truth’ option, he is now seated on the mini-stage you happened to help set up earlier that afternoon.

One of your subordinates hands the support items engineer a microphone. The latter taps the mic before resuming, glee evident in her voice. “How many people have you dated?”

Cheers go off from all around the room at the question, and you shoot a withering glare at your assigned subdepartment members. One catches your eye and visibly cringes.

But goes on pretending they didn’t see you.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing yourself a microphone from the sound booth, you speak into it, trying not to freak out over the fact that this will very much be the first time you’ll verbally address Bakugou in two years.

“Apologies, Bakugou-san,” you start, “You don’t have to answer that.”

Everyone looks at you in bewilderment, including Bakugou who himself looks puzzled.

You take the lull that has befallen upon the room as a sign to continue.

“Such questions are deemed inappropriate as per HR standards. I’m going to have to speak with my subordinates after this.”

You expected uneasy silence as a response, but you sure as hell didn’t anticipate the plethora of jeers that erupt in the room, some even exclaiming exasperated ‘come on’s’.

You’re about to insist (as calmly as you can, that is) when a low, gruff voice crackles from the speakers.

“‘s fine. I’ll answer the fucking question.”

The room goes entirely still. You hold your breath.

He heaves a sigh, and you could’ve sworn his gaze flickered to you for a moment before he looks away.

“Just one.”

Oohs and aahs get passed around, and despite yourself, you feel a shot of relief course through your veins at the implication of Bakugou’s answer.

He hasn’t dated since you.

“Are you guys still together?” a male employee shouts from the other end of the room, and you can’t help the rush of blood toward your cheeks at the question.

You need to put your foot down, now.

“Okay,” you interject, “that’s enou–”

“No. We broke up two years ago.”

Your head whips toward Bakugou’s direction, shocked at his ready admission. The reprimanding words that you were about to spit out die in your throat.

“You plan on seeing anyone anytime soon?” another employee asks from the other far corner.

You’re about to pipe up in protest—distressed over the inappropriate questions, as the HR head or ex-girlfriend, you don’t know—when Kirishima stands up and barks out a good-natured laugh.

“I think that’s enough prodding, you guys.” His eyes flicker to Bakugou’s and then yours in a split second, face etched with concern, before he turns back his attention to the crowd, a toothy grin having replaced his previous expression.

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles have gotten until Kirishima stepped in to intervene, and at that, you slowly let out a big exhale through your nose.

God fucking no. The last thing you need is for your co-workers to find out that the HR head, of all people, is their boss’s ex.

Before you can even spiral further, though, you feel a hand clap your upper back. You twist to find Kirishima, who is, weirdly enough, beaming with excitement.

“We actually have something special planned for a special someone today.”

And as if on cue, the rest of your HR department enters the room, with your secretary carrying your favorite cake and the others holding balloons and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You don’t remember telling anyone about your favorites except for one person.

Confused, you turn towards Kirishima. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” he mimics, amused at your confusion and the employees who hear laugh. “It’s your one-year anniversary in the agency!”

You could only gape in shock as the people around you, the ones you, over time, grew to identify as family, crowd you and urge you to blow out the candle and accept the flowers.

Still disoriented, you do what they tell you, and they cheer in response as you do so.

With all the busyness that came with the search for sidekicks and the monthly HR game night, you completely forgot about the significance of today’s date.

Overwhelmed by the sentiments and the sea of people surrounding you, you don’t know where to look or mouth a thank you.

Somehow, your gaze finds Bakugou’s—only to see him already looking at you from behind the crowd.

You’re about to look away, unable to sustain his piercing gaze, when he flashes you a small smile.

None of those smirks or mischievous grins he usually sports around other people.

No, this one was different.

Because this was the kind of smile he’d reserved especially for private moments with you.

Before you can give it a second thought, you find yourself smiling back.

“You really couldn’t be bothered to change into normal clothes before coming here?”

You, as inconspicuously as you can, look around the café you’re currently in, wary of paparazzi or anyone else that could recognize Pro Hero Pinky. The last thing you needed was a picture of you (the lucky civilian), haggard after a long day of work, all over Twitter.

“Nah,” she shrugs, “patrol was completely uneventful anyway. I’ll shower when I get home.”

You reach for your iced drink, mumbling under your breath, “I wasn’t worried about you…”

“Hey!” she pouts, “Is that how you treat a friend who’s done you a major favor?”

Your eye twitches at the mention of a favor.

These things never end well with Mina.

“Mina…” you groan, “what did you do?”

She rubs her neck sheepishly. “I kind of promised one of my colleagues that you’d go on a blind date with him.”

“What the fuck?”

She grabs your hand over the table that sits between the two of you. “He’s a real catch, I promise you. Tall, handsome, and a crazy smart support items engineer.”

You frantically shake your head, yanking your hand from her. “Idiot, I’m not worried about your ‘candidate’. Who the fuck said I wanted to go on a blind date?”

Mina whines and thrashes in her seat in response, maybe in an attempt to make you feel sorry and just go along with her antics.

You refuse to do so.

After a few minutes of an incredulous stare-off, she finally deflates in defeat.

“I just thought I could help you out and get you out of your shell. You haven’t dated anyone since…” she trails off, and looks away awkwardly, “you know.”

You chuckle despite yourself, albeit quite solemnly.

Until now, it still makes you feel guilty how the rest of your friend group is forced to deal with the aftermath of your unsuccessful relationship with Bakugou.

“You can say his name, you know. He’s not Voldemort.”

Mina rolls her eyes at that, but you can tell it’s playful more than anything else.

You look down at your now clasped hands. “I appreciate the help, you know that.”

She nods vigorously, and you almost laugh at how much of a textbook-active listener she is.

“But?”

You sigh, “I just can’t right now. If I end up dating someone, word will eventually get around in the office and I just…”

You lock eyes with Mina, whose eyebrows are raised in anticipation.

“I don’t want to make things awkward between Bakugou and me, especially now that I’m working in his agency.”

A few moments of silence pass before Mina speaks up, slunk against her chair.

“Man, you’re the world’s best ex-girlfriend, you know that?”

You snort, “Thanks.”

She sighs in exasperation, “I mean, even if you guys had the most ambiguous breakup ever, you still are extremely considerate about him.”

You’re not, by any means, in the mood or headspace to explore why that is, so you go for the safest answer possible.

“What can I say,” leaning back into your chair yourself, feigning nonchalance, “I’m just an incredibly good person.”

Mina doesn’t even bat an eye at your quip, “Yeah, yeah. Why did you guys break up, anyway?”

“Woah,” you lean back, aghast, “it’s,” you flick your wrist to check the time on your watch, “5:17 PM, Mina. And I doubt this café even serves a beer.”

You’re deflecting, and Mina has known you long enough to be aware of that.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t you think I’m owed a little bit of information? I’m the one who set you guys up.”

“Actually, that was Kirishi–.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she interjects, “I helped.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. She waves it off.

“Point is, I was there when this budding relationship started, and I’m here to know the deets about how it ended.”

You shake your head in resignation, “You sure you don’t want to say you’re just nosy?”

She grins at you, “Nope!”

“So you’re telling me he got too busy and neglectful, you ended up asking for a break, and you’ve never talked to each other since?”

“Yep. That’s what I just said.”

Out of the blue, she hops onto her feet, and in doing so knocks stuff around on the table.

A glass of water almost spills.

“Mina?” you seethe, “Sit the fuck back down. People are gonna stare.”

“Bitch, I have pink skin. They’ve been staring since we entered the room,” she snaps, “And don’t even think about changing the subject.”

“I’m not! Just sit back down.”

She obliges, but she’s still visibly riled up, “I knew your breakup was vague, but not this vague!”

“I don’t know either, okay!” you put your hands up, exasperated. “A month into it he got Kirishima to get his things from my apartment, and so I just assumed he wanted to break up.”

Her eyes are filled with bewilderment, “And your asking me to get your things from his apartment?”

“I…” you hesitate, “I asked you immediately the day after.”

At that, she huffs in surrender, sinking back into her chair. “And you’re supposed to be an expert at conflict resolution.”

“Hey,” you throw a used tissue at her, which she expertly dodges, “That’s for the workplace setting. Romantic relationships are a whole other thing.”

She scoffs, fiddling with the piece of paper containing the café’s WiFi password. “And then, what? You took a gap year to find yourself?”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, reaching forward to take back the tissue you threw at her.

“Don’t make it sound like that. I just took a gap year after graduating to rest and figure out what I wanted to do. I was just lucky enough to have been recruited by Kirishima even if I had zero work experience by the time I came back.”

Mina eyes you, “Even if it meant technically having Bakugou as your boss?”

You look down at the piece of tissue in your hands.

“Even if it meant actually having Bakugou as my boss.”

Mina doesn’t say anything after that, only reaching for her cup of decaf coffee. You follow suit, taking a sip from your now-diluted drink.

You look up at her to see that she’s thinking hard about something.

In spite of yourself, you feel the familiar feeling of dread rising in your throat.

“...You’re not gonna tell him about this conversation, are you?”

“Who, Katsuki?” she asks and you gingerly nod. “Of course not!”

You hold eye contact for a while longer before looking away with a big sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

Three knocks echo through the hallway, as well as Kirishima’s expansive, corner office. Hesitantly and without noise, you peer through the glass door to see him in his regular clothes and in his desk, rifling through some documents that appear to be mission reports.

Kirishima looks up and catches your eye. Beaming at you with an inviting grin, he beckons you in with a wave of a hand.

“Y/N, bro! What’s up?”

You smile at him as you enter and close the door behind you.

He calls everyone bro, regardless of their gender.

“Hi, Ei. I have the report on the recruits, including Bakugou’s sidekick here with me,” you gesture to the folder in your hand. “Can you spare a minute to go through it together?”

What seems like hesitation dances across Kirishima’s face before he somehow schools it into a sheepish frown.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he starts, “I’m kinda busy right now,”

He flips through the pages for emphasis, “Have an important report due in an hour.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. I can just come back later when you’re free.”

You’re already turning back to exit his office when Kirishima speaks up again.

“—but Bakugou’s available!”

Slowly, you shift back to face him.

“...What?”

“I mean,” Kirishima backtracks, evidently flustered by his outburst, “Bakugou’s free right now. He can go through those documents with you. Especially since he’s the one getting a new sidekick and all.”

You gulp despite yourself, willing desperately to calm your now racing heart.

“But Ei… It’s always been you and our department coordinating on stuff like this. Why the sudden change now?”

It takes Kirishima a few seconds to reply.

And what he says knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“I just think it’s about time he starts taking matters into his own hands.”

When you got dressed and ready this morning, you didn’t think you’d be having your first proper conversation with your ex in two years.

But the universe, or rather, Kirishima, had other plans.

Thinking ‘this is the best it can get’ as you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you sigh and make your way to your desk to get the files, heading straight to Bakugou’s office afterward.

When you get there, you don’t dare to immediately walk toward his doorway as you did with Kirishima. Instead, you stop at his secretary’s desk.

“Is Dynamight in?”

“Yes,” his secretary chirps without hesitation. How she’s able to still be her sunshiney self despite working immediately under Bakugou is beyond you.

Human resilience, you guess.

She clicks a few times with her mouse as she stares at her laptop screen, before looking back at you again. “He’s actually expecting you, Y/N-san.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief.

Hope flutters in your chest without your permission.

You clear your throat in an attempt to not sound winded. “Really?”

You’re itching to ask if he cleared out his schedule specifically for you, but luckily, you don’t even have to make a fool of yourself because his secretary brings it up herself.

She smiles, “He had me move things around so he could make time for you.”

At that, you blink at her, speechless.

These double meanings are not helping in easing your nerves about this impending encounter.

“You can go ahead,” she gestures to the office, effectively snapping you out of your reverie. “I already gave him the heads up that you’re here.”

Great, you think to yourself. No turning back now.

After shooting her a quick thank you, you clutch the folder to your chest, as if it’s some sort of protective gear, and walk to his door. Upon reaching it, you realize that you don’t even have to knock, because it’s already slung wide open and held in place by a stopper.

You walk in.

Refusing to look at Bakugou, who, from the corner of your eye you can see has his back towards you and is looking at the view of the city skyline, you opt for going through the pages of the file instead.

With a sharp inhale, you finally look up to meet his gaze, only to find that he’s still turned away from you.

He probably didn’t hear me come in, you think.

You clear your throat, and he startles, albeit so minutely anyone else would’ve missed it, finally turning to regard you.

“Hello, Bakugou-san.”

You don’t wait for him to greet you in return. You simply move forward and place the folder on his desk, before stepping back again, hands clasped together behind you. He nods in acknowledgment and shifts to sit on his office chair.

“That folder contains the report on the recruits, including your new sidekick, Moriyama Kairi. It includes their personal histories, interview transcripts, and resumés, as well as recommendations by the departments regarding costumes, training programs, and the like.”

He only grunts in response, thumbing through the pages as you speak. He flips through them so fast that you doubt he’s even going to bother anything beyond skimming through.

He pauses, though, on a certain page, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing as he examines it, before closing the folder and placing it back in front of him.

You brace yourself for a comment on an error of some sort.

Instead, he says: “Thanks.”

Your mind goes blank.

You scramble for a decent response.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“...Really?” he questions skeptically, pushing back on his desk to stand up, slowly circling it so that he can be face-to-face with you. He’s no less than two feet away now.

“It’s nothing?”

“I mean,” you stutter, shifting your eyes away from him to look at his desk, “it’s my job. That’s part of the job description.”

“Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Your eyes flicker back to him. Like Kirishima, he’s in his regular clothes, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What?” you ask despite yourself, frustration bleeding into your voice.

He smirks, but there’s no malice behind it. “I didn’t know HR was supposed to produce a detailed write-up on how a sidekick can best complement their assigned Pro Hero.”

Your eyes widen slightly in alarm, and you find yourself grappling for any excuse to rid yourself of his suspicions.

Despite them being true.

“We are, actually,” you lie through your teeth. “I made a similar one for Kirishima back when we recruited Tanaka-san.”

“Really?” he asks again, visibly unconvinced, and you can’t help the annoyance that flashes through you. “Because I read through that file myself, and I didn’t see anything of the sort.”

Shit.

The playful expression that once adorned Bakugou’s face is now displaced by a serious countenance. You don’t even get to have a word in because he’s already speaking again.

“Why?” he starts, “Why did you do this for me?”

At that, you straighten up, face flaming in anger or embarrassment—you can’t tell. He seriously can’t be asking you this.

“It’s your first sidekick,” you retort, “And you’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality around here.”

You expect him to bite back with an insult himself, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, let’s say that’s true.”

You guffaw, “Wha–”

“Why go out of your way to make me this when you’re already drowning in work?”

You can’t believe the audacity of this guy.

“So you admit HR has been swamped these days?” you snap, but continue to deliver the last blow. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know! Since it’s Kirishima who does all of the coordinating work with us.”

“I do know,” he spits back, “That’s by design, and I’m more involved than you’d think. And,” he shoots you a look, “don’t change the subject.”

You’re bubbling with vengeful words but what comes out is a huff.

“What do you want me to say, Katsuki?”

At your taunting, he opens his mouth to say something, but ultimately decides against it.

Your stomach drops in disappointment.

“...Well,” you say meekly, “if you don’t have anything else for me, I have to get back to my office.”

Turning your back to him, you’re about to head for the door when he grabs your wrist.

“Wait.”

Your heart leaps in your chest.

You pause for a moment, before spinning to look at him.

It takes you less than a second to conclude that gone is the aloof and composed Bakugou.

It’s now the vulnerable Katsuki, who’s unable to look you in the eye, standing in front of you.

“Fuck, I…”

You can’t help but ache at the sight of him struggling. Despite yourself, you try and gently coax it out of him.

“What is it, Katsuki?”

At your affectionate mention of his first name, he finally meets your eye. You almost stumble back from the intensity of his gaze.

But not as much as at what he was going to say next.

“I want…you to admit it.”

You frown, “Admit what?”

He exhales before closing his eyes shut.

“That you’re still in love with me.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 9

Kink: Somnophilia

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Tags/Warnings:  SMUT, Somnophilia, established relationship, petnames (doll, baby), p-in-v, f masterbation (brief), vaginal fingering, creampie, sex dreams (not in depth but mentioned)

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You always tell Bucky to wake you up when he comes back from missions but you never specified how.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!

A/N: I know, I know. I'm late. Apologies. I'm going back to my home country for my birthday this week and I'm trying to get all of my uploads scheduled! So, I have the last few from last week to upload and then next week there will be a LOT of posts haha - Love Grem x

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Bucky had been on back to back missions, and although you insisted on him waking you up so you could make him food or cuddle him, he'd declined. He hadn’t wanted to ruin a good night's sleep for you; he knew how precious that was.

"Buck, I promise I'm okay with you coming to bed after a mission. I don't care if you wake me." You'd argued with him before he left again. You had been adamant about him not sleeping on the floor or sofa in fear of waking you up. You much preferred waking up to his pretty face than an empty bed.

"We'll see, doll." Bucky sighed, pecking your lips quickly as he headed out the door. "Love you."

"Love you."

When the door closes behind him you sigh to yourself. Maybe one day you'll manage to convince him.

Two days before Bucky was scheduled back you lay awake in bed, vibrator on your clit, dreaming of your boyfriend being home.

Every time he was away you missed him terribly and it didn't take long for you to cum to the thought of him more than once (although nothing would compare to the real thing). Your pyjamas and panties are lost to the sheets, a wave of tiredness washing over you as you clean up your vibe and wash your hands with strategically placed wet wipes.

You roll onto your back and stretch. You couldn't be bothered to make an attempt to find your panties. You were doomed to your fate of being pantyless, sprawled on your bed, wishing your boyfriend were home.

Your eyes flutter, heavy with sleep. Bucky'd be home soon. Maybe you should propose the idea of waking you up with sex. You make a hum of contentment to yourself. Maybe you will. But then again, any kind of sex with Bucky is sex you want to be having.

Bucky and sex with Bucky are still on the forefront of your mind as you drift to sleep.

Bucky's mission finished two and a half days early.

His plan was to get home to you as soon as possible, flowers in hand as always. Due to delays it wasn't until past 1am that he managed to get through the door.

He dumped his bags and gently placed the flowers on the dining table. You had already gone to bed so he would have to wait until tomorrow to surprise you with them. Bucky scanned the quiet apartment whilst Alpine brushed up against his legs.

He looked to the sofa then to your bedroom door. Alpine mewled haughtily; every time he came home he'd fall asleep with her on the sofa but tonight it was different. He thought about what you said before he left. How you said it every time.

Wake me up when you come home.

With a pat to Alpine’s head, Bucky padded to the bedroom quietly. The door whined on it hinges as he pushed it open, but as he slinked through he could just about see you through the light in the curtains.

Bucky took in your sleeping form; tangled in the sheets and sprawled out almost entirely on the bed. You looked so peaceful. Not even close to elegant but peaceful and it brought a smile to Bucky’s face.

Then you huff and murmur his name. Bucky inches forward, thinking you've woken up. There's a miniscule amount of guilt but the thought of seeing you beam up at him quickly replaced it. But you don't open your eyes. You shift in the sheets, moving your hips upward and kicking the comforter further down your body.

You're so pliable in this state, relaxed and soft. Bucky only needs to tap your knee outward gently for you to spread your legs wide for him. You're wearing nothing but a cropped shirt that barely covers your tits. Bucky's eyes scan the covers and find your pyjama shorts and panties discarded in the covers; clearly you had some fun before falling asleep. He bites back a chuckle and looks back to you. He shouldn't, he really shouldn't, but you look so good right now he can't help himself. Didn't you say you wouldn't mind being woken up by him? You didn't specify how.

Bucky traces the insides of your thighs, curious if you'd stir. You shift slightly and hum in your sleep but you don't wake up. Bucky releases a breath he didn't realise he was holding, and runs a finger along your still glistening folds experimentally. This time you let out a breathless whimper and spread your legs even further.

Watching you mewl under his touch even when you're asleep makes his cock ache. He shifts closer to you, sitting between your legs for a better reach of your wet folds, his thumb finding your clit easily. The noises you made when his thumb brushed over your already sensitive nub had his free hand freeing his hard cock almost immediately. You writhed beneath him limply, your legs making lazy, half hearted attempts to close, but Bucky's broad body was in the way.

"Look at you, doll." Bucky huffed quietly, pumping his cock as a finger slipped inside of your eager pussy, making you cry out Bucky's name quietly. "Bein' so good for me even while you sleep."

Bucky adds a second finger shortly after, stretching you open. You were already so wet you probably didn't need it but Bucky was adamant to ensure you woke up to only pleasure. He can feel you clench around his fingers, your gently, sleepy gasps coming more rapidly. You were going to cum so quickly and easily around his fingers, dreaming of him no less.

Bucky removes his fingers from your pussy and you whine quietly in complaint. He gathers slick from your folds, running the tip of his cock teasingly up and down, and biting back his own loud groan. You feel ridiculously silky and wet but the thought of you waking up with him buried inside you has Bucky’s cock twitch against your clit. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, watching your face as he does.

Your eyes flutter briefly, and Bucky’s hands come up to cup your face in the almost-darkness. When his cock reaches its hilt he tries to groan quietly; your pussy flutters and clenches him, still desperate for more.

"Bucky." You huff, head turning into his palm. Your eyes flutter again and you have the familiar toe curling feeling brewing at your core and the feeling of being filled to the brim.

"Yeah, doll?" Bucky murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your cheek. He moves his hips slowly, almost taking care not to move to hard too fast, although he's desperate to cum.

Your eyes flutter again but this time they stay open. It takes you a minute to register waking up from the sex dream you were having, eyes adjusting to the darkness around you. The weight on top of you, inside you, makes your pussy clench when you recognise your boyfriend's aftershave. Your eyes are like dinnerplates in the darkness but you can see the rise and fall of Bucky's chest, and just about make out the blue of his eyes looking back at you.

You lick your lips as you feel his cock throb inside you, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer to capture his lips in a sleepy kiss.

"Welcome home, baby." You mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist a little tighter. Bucky sinks back further into your pussy as he kisses your face, and this time you moan a little louder.

"'M sorry for waking you." He says, thrusts getting quicker. You're awake now, there's no reason for him to hold back. You're body is wide awake, ripping you from your sleep state and throwing you over to pleasure.

"'S okay," you pant out, your grip on his is still lazy and sleepy, but your body feels like it's on fire as he fucks into you mercilessly. Your first orgasm rips through you quickly, too sensitive from Bucky's teasing and your earlier me-time to withstand the pleasure Bucky is giving you. Your cry out his name with a whimper, turning to gasps of ecstasy as you cum over his cock and he smiles against your neck whispering praises as your cunt milks him. Bucky cums after your second orgasm, your pussy fluttering around his cock too much for him to bare. His thrusts slow ensuring he's filled you to the brim with his cum before stopping entirely to relish the state you're both in.

Panting together, Bucky rolls off you slowly, and you huff at the loss of heat on top of you.

"You okay?" He murmurs, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist. He snuggles in close, pressing kisses to your shoulder. You chuckle turning to him and pressing a kiss to his nose.

"Better than okay." You sigh dreamily. "I wanna wake up to that all the time."

Bucky snorts gently. "I'll keep that in mind, doll."

"I'm glad you're back and that you came and woke me up." You smile and cuddle closer into his arms. As you're settling next to him, your eyelids begin to droop, getting heavy again.

"So am I," Bucky says, yawning loudly clearly feeling the same unstoppable have of tiredness. Travelling home and fucking in the same night after a long mission meant he'd be sleeping well tonight.

You hum happily. "Love you."

"Love you, doll."

Wrapped in each other's arms you both fall asleep quickly, waking up the next to one another the following day and repeating the night's activities.

[blueeyedgirll]

shark week surprise - spencer reid x f!reader

spencer reid x f!reader on her period

this fic includes: fluff, descriptions of bad periods and period paraphernalia, spencer being a sweetie pie and doting on you, established relationship, non-bau reader, pet names, early seasons spencer, use of midol, no use of y/n, unrealistic depiction of spencer's job, reader being shorter than spencer

word count: 1,053

a/n: you'll never guess what time of the month it is for me ;) im testing out using gifs on my fics so tell me what you think my lovely returning readers!

"It hurts," you say into your phone.

"I know it does, honey. I'm sorry. I'm sure a heating pad and some medicine can help with your cramps," Spencer responds sympathetically, recalling all of the period remedies he had learned.

"I took some Midol about an hour ago and I have the heating pad on right now. It's not helping much."

"Hmm..." Spencer pauses for a moment. "I've read that light exercise and hot tea or water can help. Are you feeling well enough to talk to the kitchen and make some tea? I think there's still some of the chamomile and honey tea I bought you in the pantry, and the walking might help."

"I should be alright. Will you stay on the phone with me?" you plead.

"Of course I will. Luckily, I'm in my hotel room for the night, so I have as much time as you need."

"Thank you, Spence."

"You're welcome, love."

You hobble to your kitchen, phone in hand, and start to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea.

The few minutes it took for the kettle to boil felt excruciatingly long, but having Spencer on the phone to distract you helped.

"I was reading an article about Spanish idioms, and I saw one I thought you would like," Spencer prompts.

"Yeah? What's that?" You say, leaning against your kitchen counter.

"Well, it literally means 'Thinking about the immortality of the crab,' but it's a way to say that instead of just sitting idly, you were engaged in active thought or daydreaming. Kind of like saying you're just letting your mind wander," Spencer says, his voice growing more excited as he elaborates.

"I think about the immortality of the crab a lot, then," You joke.

"I know. That's why I thought you would like it."

You scoff and bring your now finished cup of tea back into your bedroom, where you had been hibernating amidst every fuzzy blanket you could find.

You pull the heating pad back over your lap and get as cozy as you can with your hellish cramps. As nice as your bedspread may be, however, you know that you would be a lot more comfortable with Spencer cuddled up next to you.

"When are you gonna be back home, Spencer?" You ask.

"Well, we haven't gotten very many good leads, so we're a little stuck right now. It might be a few more days. I'm sorry, honey," He responds apologetically.

"Oh... That's okay. I get it."

You did get it. It wasn't uncommon for Spencer to be gone for days, sometimes a few weeks at a time. But the searing pain and high estrogen levels just made you want him near you even more.

"I'm sorry. You know I would so much rather be taking care of you right now," Spencer follows.

"Ain't no rest for the wicked."

"Exactly." Spencer pauses for a moment, lets out a sigh, and shuffles around in his room. "You should get some rest. You may feel better tomorrow as your hormones decrease."

"I know. I love you, Spence."

"I love you too, darling. I'll see you soon. Hang in there."

"I will. Bye."

You hang up the phone and sigh dramatically. It was only Friday night, and without work to prepare for or Spencer to spend time with, you were forced to entertain yourself for the weekend.

You start by putting on an older show to rewatch, but don't make it through much before you fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

You wake up the next morning to your phone ringing. Rubbing your dry eyes, you pick up your phone and see Spencer's contact flash across your screen. You pick up, clearing your throat before you speak.

"Morning, love."

"It's eleven AM, darling. But good morning to you, too," Spencer responds. In the background of the call, you hear what sounds like a turn signal.

"Whatever. Where are you?"

"I'm in the car," He says uninformatively.

"Okay, then where are you heading?"

"To my destination."

What a turd. You groan in exasperation.

"If it makes you feel better, I have something for you,' Spencer tells you.

"Like what?"

"It should be arriving just about now, actually."

"What do you mean?" You question.

Before you could ask him anything else, you hear a knock at your door.

"Hang on, Spence. Someone's at the door," You say, placing your eye to the peephole.

To your great surprise, you see a tiny image of Spencer smiling outside your door with his phone up to his ear. You fling the door open and affirm that he is, in fact, at your door.

"Spencer!" You exclaim. He greets you as he throws his arms around you, lightly squishing you against his chest.

"I thought you weren't gonna be home for a few more days. What changed?" You ask, pulling away from his embrace to look up into his sweet brown eyes.

"The unsub basically turned himself in, so we all got to go home early. I would have came here earlier, but I had to make a stop," He says, gesturing to his right hand.

You look down to see a shopping bag. He smiles and walks into your living room, urging you to follow.

He slowly unpacks the bag, announcing every item as it appears.

"An array of candy -- fruit flavored as well as chocolate --, electrolyte drinks to keep you hydrated, a new bottle of Midol to help with the pain, and..." Out of a separate bag you hadn't noticed before, he pulls out a bouquet of fresh flowers. "Flowers because I thought you would like them."

He hands you the flowers and you smile up at him before enclosing him in another hug.

"Thank you, Spencer. You're so sweet."

"I'm just trying to make you feel better," He says, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You're doing great."

He smiles into your hair before pulling away.

"What do you want to do? We can watch movies in bed, I can draw you a bath, we can go for a walk..." He trails off, looking to your for an answer.

"Let's go watch movies. We can find that new one we wanted to watch."

"Sounds good to me, love," He says, following you into the bedroom, snacks in hand.

[valleyofthelilly]

Texts With Katsuki but You're An Exchange Student: Part 1

PREVIOUS

Tags: Exchange student!Reader x Katsuki, Female!Reader, Uncle Might, Bestie Izuku, SMAU, Traumatic childhood, University AU, characters are 20/21, war never happened for the sake of our happiness.

The walk to the training facility was quite peaceful. In the short time you'd known him, you'd noticed Midoriya was a talker. He was asking questions about your quirk, how you learned to use it given the circumstances of your childhood, millions of things.

Usually you'd feel inclined to tell someone to fuck all the way off upon being asked any of these questions. But the space between you and your new friend felt comfortable, which was something you couldn't say you'd experienced in a long time. If anything the tension in your life had been palpable the past few months, even if it was only between you and yourself.

When the two of you finally arrived at the training facility you were happy to find it empty with the exception of All Might. He was perched on the opposite side of the room, on what looked to be a spectators bench. He raised a hand high and waved both of you over.

"Young Midoriya, Young (y/n), lock the door behind you and come on over so I can explain today's exercise." He nodded in the direction of the door and Midoriya turned to lock it. You made for the side of the room All Might was sitting on with Midoriya a few steps behind.

While All Might explained what you'd be doing you took off your overcoat. You hadn't wanted it to be ridiculously obvious where you were going, especially not after blowing off your practical partner. So you'd opted to throw the biggest flannel known to man over your training suit.

The mock up of your current gear held up well enough for it to be a training suit, one comparable to the one you've used in combat. Though the gear itself was a little... ratty. It hadn't been updated in quite some time and would without a doubt benefit from some TLC. You made a mental note to visit the support department before All Might spoke.

"Alright, go ahead and show us what you can do kiddo." He nodded as he motioned for Midoriya to sit next to him.

You tilted your head in confusion.

"Huh? I thought we were supposed to-"

"Nope. If your enemy is to have a fair fight they need to understand the range of your abilities, and yours is quite wide. Regardless of strength, It would be both unfair and reckless to send Midoriya in blind, even in a sparring match."

"Fair point, but then what do you want me to do?"

"Simple, use your quirk in the best way you know how. Show off a little if that's what you want to do," All Might waved his hand flippantly, "I just want to see what you're capable of and where your limits are, so that you can surpass them. The last time I saw you use your quirk was years ago. I would imagine you've improved since then?" He quirked a brow. Midoriya sat beside him with a notebook in his lap, looking between the two of you.

"I have." You nodded curtly, beginning to understand what was being asked of you.

"Then the floor is yours Young (y/n)." All Might gestured to the expansive training room behind you. You turned towards the open space, calmly walked to the center of the room, and thought through your plan. If improvement was what was being asked of you, why not show just how many of your limits you've surpassed?

Overhead you counted six rows of ten high-powered lights, making for sixty total. With those, plus the air conditioning, plus the rest of the technology in here, you figured you should be set. Electrical energy seemed to be the safest route while still being impressive.

Taking a deep inhale you tightened your core, the very inside of your soul to be as hard as rock. "Siphon." You breathed out on the exhale, you made an effort to feel every molecule of electricity within your reach. The current expanse of your quirk was the training room. If necessary, you could triple your reach, but you didn't want to take power from any of the dorm buildings.

Push your energy out, grab more of it, pull, compress.

Push your energy out, grab more of it, pull, compress.

Push your energy out, grab more of it, pull, compress.

You could feel your insides burning, but not in a way that hurt. They burned in the way that let you know you were sucking up every volt of energy available to you. In such a way that you could feel the energy building on itself and multiplying.

You didn't notice the way the lights went out, or the way the AC stopped working, or the electrical lock on the door come undone. You only knew you'd taken all you could when the breaker popped, then exploded with a resounding clap.

The way that you looked during was unbeknownst to you. But if you had to guess by the, "Oh my, oh my, what?" that Midoriya breathed out with wide eyes, you'd say terrifying.

If the way that All Might was looking at you like a proud father was any indication, you'd say you did your job.

Smiling softly you looked down at your, now glowing, skin. Electricity danced across it softly until you allowed it to dissipate. Simply deactivating it and storing it as potential energy.

"When I told you to show me what you got, I didn't mean to cut the power out. Jeez kid, what have they been feeding you over there?" All Might joked with a smile, one you returned to him proudly.

an: if you read all of this thank you??? and let me know what you thought please, it's always appreciated sm, i love feedback. i'm sorry this was so long. the next parts won't be this beefy i swear (unless y'all want them to be, lmk). i just wanted to get a scene of reader's quirk use in even though the description kind of sucked?? any guesses on what our quirk is? also it will be much more katsuki heavy in the future. just needed to get the setup done!

[ariundercovers]

Bad Man (joel miller x afab!fem!reader)

Words: ~1.2k

Summary: Joel was a bad man. Neither of you gave a single fuck about it. (there's nothing here but pure filth. i am not sorry nor will i apologize. it spewed out of my brain and now here you be)

Warnings: 18+ only, rough sex, unprotected p in v, ass slapping, neck grabbing, bruising mentioned, girthy age gap, slightly toxic internal thoughts/monologue

masterlist here

You’re not sure how you got into this position, got to this place.

Well… actually, that’s a lie.

You’re pretty sure of it, if you’re being honest with yourself, and it has everything to do with Joel’s big fucking mouth and his stupid, flirty personality. It has even more to do with his perfect, stupid, glorious tongue and his frustratingly fat cock.

The speckled gray hair and the crow’s feet at his eyes were just the icing on top of the cake for you, really. A well-worn man with just as worn hands, willing to use them to deliver all of the pain and pleasure you could possibly ask for. He fucks, and he fucks well. He fucks like someone who’s lived an entire life, knows exactly what he wants, and takes it. Every time.

It’s all that you can think about, all that you can manage to do as he spears his hips into you from behind, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest with every thrust.

Joel was a bad man. A very, very bad man. 

And you fucking loved him for it.

Every grunt you hear from behind you spurs you on a little further, makes your core get a little bit wetter, until you feel beads of sweat start to drip from his body and onto your back. You cry out for him as the fingers of one hand dig bruisingly into your hip, and the palm of the other takes turns slapping at each of your asscheeks until you’re sure they’re a bright, stinging red with the heat you can feel radiating off of them already. 

There’s nothing in your mind, nothing in your body, but Joel. Joel everywhere.

He stops his smacks, but not his thrusts, and grips you tightly at the nape of your neck, shoving your face down into the couch beneath you. He holds you there, barely enough room to get a breath in between your cheek and the cushion, but the new angle makes you absolutely see stars. You cry out for him, fingers digging into the couch as you try to find purchase anywhere you can manage.

You feel like your insides are on fire - and so are your asscheeks - everything is, really, because Joel is all over you and inside of you and everywhere and everything and it was so fucking perfect you could cum just from the thought of it all. 

You were sure this was what heaven must feel like. Did you make him feel just as good? He hisses behind you and you feel another rush of slick to your core as you think about it. 

This, right here, was heaven. You knew it. You didn’t need to die to get there, and hell, you surely knew Joel wouldn’t be coming with you, anyway. So this would be enough. You’d let Joel bring a little piece of heaven to you, just like this, anytime he wanted to. You’d never say no to him.

And the thing is, you were right. Joel was a bad man. A very, very bad man. And he knew it. He just didn’t care.

With Ellie leaving and Tommy off to start his own family, what else did he have left? Who cares if he started fucking the little stable girl, young and perky and pliant and willing… all for him, any night of the week?

Could you really blame him for not giving a rat’s ass about what anyone else thought?

Maria would have his head if she knew, probably chastise him for being a dirty old man, call him a pervert or a cradle robber or something even worse.

You were legal, though. At least legal to the standards of 2003… legality ain’t much of a thing, these days.

He grunts heavily above you, staring down at you like you’re some kind of magic, materialized beneath his hands. Your fucking skin is just so fucking soft… Not hard and war-torn like his. And your hands… Oh the way your soft, gentle hands make him feel when they’re wrapped around his cock. Don’t even get him started on your fucking perky, perfectly pouty lips. He might as well have a heart attack and go to heaven each time you wrap your lips around his length.

So, fuck it. He wants this. Damn near feels like, after all this time, maybe, just maybe, he even deserves it. Deserves a warm cunt to sink himself into at the end of the day, a perky set of tits to play with, a smiling face that calls out for him not in stress or frustration but in pleasure.

Yeah. He wants it. He really, really fucking wants it. And he’s gonna take it - and keep taking it - over and over again until you’ve had your fill of him or until he drops dead in the process. He’s gonna take you every way he possibly can.

With the most mental clarity he’s had since that moment in the hospital with Ellie, Joel’s hips stutter for a moment as his breath catches in his throat. It’s just a second - barely a blip - but you notice. Of course you fucking notice. You start to turn your head back to him as if to ask him about it, but he just keeps fucking you relentlessly into the couch, never giving you a moment to even breathe, let alone ask a question.

He keeps your face pressed down into the cushions beneath you, and one of his broad arms wraps around your waist, a single calloused finger rubbing softly at your swollen nub. It takes very few moments of his touch at your clit to send you spiraling into oblivion, your back arching violently away from him as he continues to pound into you, both hands resting at each hip. His fingertips dip into your hip bones as he pulls you up and down on his cock, bouncing you off of his thighs with each thrust. He doesn’t give you a moment to think, let alone come down from the high of your orgasm, until he can feel the familiar tightening in his balls, slamming into you once - twice - three more times before he’s pulling out of you just in time to splatter his hot cum all over your well-abused ass. 

The pearly white beads of his cum nearly sparkle across the reddened skin of your ass cheeks and he groans in satisfaction as he catches his breath, loving the look of you painted with his seed. His. 

His. 

The possessive, needy demon comes out in him as he slaps his hand down against your reddened ass one more time and smears his cum all the way across your backside.

“You’re fucking mine, little girl. You understand me?”

You mewl, eyes shutting tightly as you press your ass back into the touch of his hands. He’ll be gentle with you later when you’re alone upstairs, buried under the sheets, where it’s safe and he’s sure no one’s watching. His shell will crack and you’ll get a little glimpse into his miserable broken insides, but not now. Not yet. 

Now, he’s all sharp edges and teeth, rough and raw and oh-so Joel.

He slaps your ass again, smearing his cum across your back before raking his nails sharply down your spine.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

~ ~ ~

A/N: if you liked it, PLEASE leave a comment and/or a reblog! your interactions are literally the fuel to my fire! Love you all! xoxoxo

[blackgirlwhowrites2k23]

Wusyaname? - Pablo Gavi

Summary: You were beauty personified; He just had to get your name.

A/N: Uploading multiple stories at once because I'm not on here as much as I want to be. Anyways, made it to med school! Sorry for taking so long, but the bills had to be paid😭. DC @cisqueenin

Trigger warning: Usage of Y/N 💀 --------------------------------------------------------------------

Camp Nou was alive. The rumbling, raging chants of "Barça! Barça!" roared through the stands, thunderous in a way that shook the entire stadium. Gavi jogged off the pitch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The air was electric, buzzing with the energy of all their fans celebrating Barcelona’s decisive 3-0 victory. He was basking in the glory of it all—three points secured, one thanks to himself, his team soaring in the league.  

But something was off.  

He felt it throughout the game, but now he could focus more on finding the source. 

As his teammates jogged ahead, laughing and slapping each other on the back, Gavi found his thoughts drifting. It wasn’t like him. Usually, he was so so laser-focused after a game, replaying key moments in his mind or thinking about how he could improve. Yet, as he neared the tunnel, something tugged at him—a strange, unexplainable pull that made him turn around.  

His eyes wildly scanned the stands, now a sea of red and blue with flags waved high, their vibrant colors flashing under the floodlights. Fans shouted, their voices hoarse from screaming all the screaming they were doing. He was always so grateful for the support he received; he literally bled red and blue and thankfully, so do they. Some leaned over the railings, the rails seeming to mold under the force of the fans,  while others snapped pictures to immortalize the night.  

And then, he saw her.  

She wasn’t waving or calling out, yet he still felt like she demanded his attention. Instead, she stood in the midst of the crowd, near some familiar faces, her laughter carrying over the chaos. It was a deep, uninhibited laugh that sent a wave of electricity through him as she playfully shoved the shoulder of a friend beside her. Her radiant skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and the way she carried herself—calm, seemingly untouched by the frenzy around her—grabbed his attention and left him a little breathless. More so then he was after playing a 90 minute match, if you would believe it. 

She wore a Barcelona jersey (thank God!) that draped casually on her body, paired with some equally loose fitting jeans that she wore amazingly (simple; but Kounde would be proud). She wasn’t trying to stand out, but somehow, she was the only thing Gavi could see. Her smile lit up her entire face, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she tilted her head back in amusement.  

Gavi blinked, completely caught off guard. He wasn’t the type to get distracted—especially not by strangers in the stands. It was rare that he even paid attention to the crowd at all. But there was something about her. Something different. Cliche, yes. But man was it true.  

His chest tightened, and he felt an inexplicable need to keep looking, to memorize the curve of her smile, the way her hair framed her face like a halo. She seemed so... alive, so full of energy and joy. So- 

“Yo, Gavi!”  

Balde’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Gavi blinked and turned, his heart racing as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It’s not illegal to look. He has eyes, he planned to use them.

Balde jogged over, a grin already forming on his face. His gaze followed Gavi’s line of sight, and the smirk deepened. “Ah, can’t say I’m surprised. That’s my girl’s best friend. They practically grew up together”  

��What?” Gavi’s cheeks heated instantly, and he quickly looked away, trying to act casual as he brushed the hair out of his face and then placed his hands on his hips. Real casual like. “I wasn’t staring.”  

“Sure, man.” Balde chuckled, his tone laced with mirth as he looked over Gavi. He clapped Gavi on the shoulder, the gesture light but teasing. “You’ve got good taste, though. My girlfriend is amazing, and you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together." He pauses to send Gavi a look as he rubs his chin, "I wonder what it says about me that we hang out together.”

Gavi rolls his eyes so hard that they almost roll out his skull. Maybe if they fall near her, she’ll help him put them back. “Ale, you’re hilarious. I’m surprised football is what you chose as a career and not comedy.”

Balde gives him a bright smile before he gets serious again. “She’s really cool. Not as cool as my lady, but her name’s [Y/N].”  

Y/N. The name lingered in Gavi’s mind, rolling around for a bit before settling into the back of his mind for later.  

“She’s not...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding like he was definitely staring.  Which he wasn't.

“She’s single,” Balde answered, clearly reading his mind. “And no, she’s not like a crazy, obsessed fan, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  

“I didn’t ask that,” Gavi muttered, flustered.  

Balde shrugged, still grinning. “Come on, we’re heading out tonight. You should join us. We have an amazing win to celebrate.”  

Gavi hesitated. He wasn’t usually one for post-game outings, preferring to recharge alone after the intensity of a match. But it’s not like he had anything better to do. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Okay.”  

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

The next evening, Gavi found himself sprawled on Balde’s couch, a PlayStation controller balanced in his hands. The apartment was a whirlwind—conversation echoed off the walls, the soft hum of music played in the background, and the faint scent of takeout wafted from the kitchen.

Balde and his girlfriend, Nia, were cozied up on one end of the sofa, a blanket draped over their laps as they shared whispered jokes. Every now and then, their quiet laughter would bubble into something louder, making Gavi sigh dramatically.

Going out the day before hadn’t been as eventful as he had hoped. He had hoped to run into a certain someone, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. 

“Man, every time I hang out with you two, you guys make me feel like a third wheel,” he said, tossing the controller onto the couch seat next to him with a huff. “It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

Nia  tilted her head innocently, though her grin gave her away. “What do you mean? We’re just sitting here, minding our business.”

Gavi shot her a pointed look. “Oh, sure. Yeah, yeah. Can you maybe try a little harder at looking less in love,” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “You’ve got a girlfriend, Pedri’s got a girlfriend, even Fermin is seeing someone. Meanwhile, I’m over here just... existing. Is it too much to ask for you guys to practice social distancing sometimes? At Least while your wonderful, single friend Gavi is over?”

Balde smirked, clearly enjoying his friend’s irritation. “You sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Gavi shot back, sitting up straighter. “I’m just stating facts. Being the only single one here is starting to feel like a full-time job.”

Across from him, Balde’s girlfriend laughed, nudging Balde playfully. “Poor Gavi. Someone needs to get this boy a date before he loses his mind.”

“Don’t look at me,” Gavi said, throwing his hands up in mock defense. “You’re the ones rubbing your picture-perfect relationship in my face.”

Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well,” she said slowly, dragging out the word as if she were revealing a secret, “since you brought it up, I might actually know someone.”

Gavi froze, immediately wary. His eyes narrowed. “Oh no. Whenever either of you gets an idea something always goes wrong. I don’t trust this. At all.”

“Relax,” Balde chimed in, leaning forward to grab his drink from the coffee table. “She’s cool. And I know you’ve already seen her.”

“What?” Gavi’s brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Balde’s girlfriend leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as her grin turned downright devious. “The girl you just couldn’t stop staring at last night. You know, the one in the stands at Camp Nou?”

Gavi stiffened. His heart skipped a beat, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. “I wasn’t staring,” he said quickly, his tone defensive. 

“Sure, Gavi,” Balde said with a knowing laugh. “We believe you. Totally.”

Gavi gives him a heat glare. “ And I can’t believe you told her I was staring.”

“He didn't have to tell me. I saw your love-struck puppy eyes from where I was sitting. You know, right next to her,” Nia corrects.

“ Yeah they were kind of hard to miss,” Balde adds, nodding sagely.

Ignoring Balde, his girlfriend continued, her voice warm and teasing. “Her name’s [Y/N]. She’s a good friend of mine. And, fun fact, she thought you were cute.”

Gavi blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “She... what?”

“She thought you were cute,” she repeated, her grin widening. “When I told her I knew you, she might have mentioned you seemed... interesting.”

“I’m not interesting,” Gavi muttered, though his attempt to brush it off lacked conviction.

Balde’s laughter grew louder as he draped an arm over the couch he and Nia shared. “You’re making this too easy. Look, just come out with us tomorrow. We’re all going to that spot downtown. No pressure or anything. Just a chance to hang out, get to know her.”

Gavi hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, curiosity, or a mix of both, but the idea of seeing her again stirred something in him.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “What if it’s awkward? What if she’s nothing like what I’m expecting?”

“Then it’s awkward,” Balde’s girlfriend said with a shrug. “But I don’t think it will be. She’s great. You’ll see.”

Gavi groaned, leaning back against the couch as if the weight of their suggestion was too much to bear. “Fine,” he said after a long pause. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming both of you.”

Balde grinned triumphantly. “You’ll thank us later.”

Gavi wasn’t so sure. But as he sat there, pretending to focus on the video game in front of him, his mind wandered back to Camp Nou, to the girl with the radiant smile and carefree laugh. Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

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

The trendy bar in the heart of Barcelona was alive with energy, its dim lighting and pulsating music creating an atmosphere that was kinda relaxing. But Gavi was anything but. He trailed behind Balde and his girlfriend as they weaved through the crowd, the mingling scents of cocktails and cologne filling the air. Despite his usual confidence on the pitch, he felt a twinge of nerves creeping in. His palms were sweaty. Knees weak. Something about Mom’s spaghetti. This wasn’t a stadium full of fans or a post-match interview—this was different.  

“There she is,” Balde’s girlfriend murmured, tilting her head toward a corner table.  

Gavi followed her gaze, and for a moment, his breath hitched. You were even more stunning up close. You sat with an effortless grace, your fitted blue dress hugging your figure and accentuating your skin. Your curls framed your face in perfect harmony with your glowing smile, which lit up as you laughed.  

“Annnnnd, you’re staring. Nia, I think we lost him, babe,” Balde teased in a low voice, nudging Gavi.  

“Shut up,” Gavi muttered, his face warming.  

“Come on,” Balde’s girlfriend urged, pulling him forward with a grin that said she wasn’t going to let him back out.  

As they reached the table, the laughter faded, and you glanced up. Your eyes met Gavi’s, and for a heartbeat, the bustling bar seemed to melt away. There was a spark in your gaze—a warmth that felt both inviting and disarming.  

“Y/N, this is Gavi,” Nia said, beaming.  

“Hi,” You greeted, your voice smooth and confident, carrying just enough intrigue to make Gavi’s pulse quicken.  

“Hey,” Gavi replied, feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied. He extended his hand, and your grip was firm yet soft, grounding him in the moment.  

Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “You play for Barça, right? Small club or something?”  

Gavi chuckled, the icebreaker easing the tightness in his chest. “Yeah, something like that. You’ve probably never heard of it.”  

You laughed, a sound so genuine it sent a strange flutter through him. He heard it being caused by others. But now it was caused by him. He definitely wanted to hear it again.

They settled into seats, the initial awkwardness dissolving as the conversation began to flow. To Gavi’s surprise, you weren't just witty—you were sharp, quick on your feet, and unapologetically yourself. You asked him about his career but didn’t linger on it, seamlessly shifting the topic to music, travel, and your own passions.  

Hours passed like minutes. The hum of the bar became a distant backdrop as they found themselves engrossed in their own world. At one point, you tilted your head and smirked. “So, do you always stare at girls from the pitch, or was that a one-time thing?”  

Gavi felt his cheeks flush, his laugh betraying him. “I wasn’t staring,” he protested weakly, though his grin gave him away.  

“Right,” you said, your tone dripping with mock disbelief. “Well, either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”  

Your playful confidence was refreshing, and Gavi found himself smiling more than he had in weeks. With you, he didn’t feel the need to impress or filter himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt seen—not as Gavi, the footballer, but as just Pablo.  

—-------------------------------

As the night wound down, the energy of the bar mellowed, and the group began to disperse. Gavi instinctively offered to walk you to your car, feeling reluctant to let the evening end. The streets outside were quieter now, the cool night air carrying a hint of the sea as they strolled under the glow of Barcelona’s streetlights.  

“Thanks for tonight,” You said as you both stopped beside your car. Your voice was softer now, yet still laced with that same effortless confidence.  

“No,” Gavi said, his sincerity catching even him off guard. “Thank you. I’m really glad I came.”  

You smiled, your gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than felt casual. “Maybe we’ll see each other again?”  

The hope in your voice mirrored the flutter in his chest, and Gavi found himself nodding, a rare shyness creeping into his expression. “I’d like that.”  

As you climbed into your car and drove off, Gavi remained on the curb, watching the taillights fade into the distance. A small, unshakable smile tugged at his lips. For the first time in a long while, he felt a new sense of anticipation—like he’d found something worth chasing, both on and off the pitch.  

[morningsharksworld]

Neon Lights PT.3

Summary: After the reader has been avoiding Hazard due to work along with concerts, they finally meet up…and they meet a special guest?

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stood at the edge, the city sprawling before you like a sea of stars, distant and flickering. You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the moment in the quiet, as if everything around you had paused to listen.

For the first time in a while, you felt calm, and maybe even a little vulnerable. It was just you and Hazard, standing together in a place that seemed untouched by time. You could feel the heat from his body not far from yours, but it wasn’t intrusive. It was... comforting.

“So…” he began, his voice breaking the stillness. “Why do ye always turn me doon when I try to get ye to meet up?”

You shifted uncomfortably, the question catching you off guard. You had known it was coming, but the words felt heavier than you anticipated. “It’s not just because I’m busy…" you admitted slowly, turning your gaze back to the city below. "I think I just... don’t do well with people. Especially when were getting close as we are…?”

Hazard watched you with an unreadable expression, his cybernetic hand resting on the railing. “People are hard” he said, his voice gentle. “But sometimes, they’re worth the risk.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the stillness. “Maybe. But after everything... I just don’t trust easily. Two of my exes used me for fame, and the other... they were never really there for me. It’s hard to even want to try again.”

There was a long pause. Hazard didn’t say anything right away. He just studied you quietly, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. “Ye’re not the problem. Those arseholes who used ye… they’re the ones who missed oot.”

Your chest tightened at the sincerity in his words. He sounded so sure, and it made you feel... something. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time. “You really think that?”

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. “I dae. Ye’ve got somethin’ special, somethin’ they couldn’t see. And that’s their loss.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The city stretched out before you, the world a blur of distant lights. But despite the distance of everything around you, in that moment, you felt close. Vulnerable, even.

Hazard broke the silence after a long pause, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Ye’re not the only one with a messed-up past, ye know.”

You turned to him, surprised by the change in tone. He wasn’t meeting your eyes now. His gaze was fixed on the railing, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the cold metal.

“My arm, my legs... they weren’t always like this” he continued, his words slow, deliberate. “I was caught in a collapse during a mission. I didn’t think I’d make it oot. But I did. Just... not the same.”

Your heart sank, and you instinctively stepped closer, wanting to comfort him. But before you could speak, he held up a hand, shaking his head lightly. “I’m no’ tellin’ ye this for pity. I’m just... tryin’ to say that I get it. I know what it’s like to feel like ye’re no’ enough. To feel like things arenae ever gonna get better.”

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. “Hazard...”

He cut you off, his voice suddenly more guarded. “But I got through it. And I think ye can, too you’re much more than ye let on and i think thats what i like— ADMIRE from ye.” He turned his head, as if trying to shake off the vulnerability of the moment. “Anyway, let not talk about that, We’re here, right? Let’s just enjoy the view.”

His attempt at a lighthearted shift was clear, but it didn’t go unnoticed. The way his voice faltered, the slight hesitation in his movements—it was as if he had almost said something else. Almost.

You watched him carefully, but he quickly straightened up, his usual confident smirk returning. “Right. Enjoy the view.”

You nodded, though a part of you could feel the shift in the air, a crack in the facade he so often wore. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized he had almost said something more. Something deeper. But now, there was only the quiet hum of the city, and the feeling that there was something more between the two of you—something unspoken but undeniable.

But Just as you were about to speak again, the sound of paws scuffling along the rooftop interrupted you. Hazard looked over his shoulder, a soft smile crossing his face.

"Alright, enough of all this heavy stuff" he said, pushing off from the railing. “I’ve got someone’ I’ve been meaning to show ye.”

You raised an eyebrow, about to ask what he meant, but before you could, a small, fluffy blur bounded around the corner and rushed toward you. The little dog’s tail wagged furiously as it jumped up to greet you, barely able to contain its excitement.

"Meet Massie" Hazard said with a chuckle, stepping aside as the dog pranced over.

Massie, with her scruffy coat of black and brown fur, looked up at you with big, eager eyes. You crouched down, a smile forming on your face as the dog sniffed at you excitedly, her small frame bouncing around your legs.

"Whoa, hey there!" you laughed, reaching down to pet her. Massie’s happy yips filled the air, and you couldn’t help but feel lighter as the dog licked your hand, looking up at you with pure joy.

“She’s a bit of a handful” Hazard admitted, watching you interact with Massie. “But she’s good company. Keeps me grounded.”

You looked up at Hazard, grinning. “I can see that. She’s adorable.”

“Yeah, she’s been with me for a while” Hazard said, a softer tone slipping into his voice. “I got her after everything happened. She’s been the one thing that never judged me—just... kept me company when I needed it most.”

Massie, oblivious to the deeper meaning behind Hazard’s words, wiggled in your lap as you scratched behind her ears. “She’s definitely good at that” you said, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you.

“Y’know” Hazard added, his voice low, “Maybe this is what I needed, too. Somethin’ simple. Nothin’ complicated.”

You nodded, your fingers still gently brushing Massie’s fur. “I think I needed this too.”

As Massie snuggled in closer, her playful energy filling the space between you, you realized that the night had shifted in ways you hadn’t expected. You were no longer standing on the edge of something unsure. You were here, in this moment, with Hazard, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel alone.

You met his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “I think I could get used to this.”

Hazard raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just watch out. Massie’ll steal your heart before ye know it.”

You laughed, Massie’s tail thumping against your leg. “I’m starting to see that.”

And with that, the quiet comfort of the night settled around you, the hum of the city below and Massie’s soft panting the only sounds. Hazard’s presence was steady beside you, and for the first time, it felt like maybe—just maybe—this could be the start of something new. Something worth waiting for.

It was almost too much to process, but for once, you didn’t feel like running.

Not yet.

[pupkashi]

satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[12raccoonsinadress]

Hello, first time requesting in general. But Im wondering if you could possibly do some more x male readers, bc as someone who respects a well written fan fiction, the majority of them are x fem reader. Thank you and have a nice day and drink plenty of water!

Of course! Also here's everyone's reminder to drink water, take your meds, and relax your jaw.

Btw, this one is my big boy enjoyers. Lil bit of praise, lil bit of overstimulation ~ 💚

Nothing More Manly: Kirishima x Masc!Reader (Smut)

Word Count: 3,891

Third POV:

You were still unsure about this whole thing. Since the new year had just begun, you'd promised yourself that this was the year you got into shape. You just wanted to be stronger was all, nothing too intense. It wasn't until you actually got into the gym that you started to question the decision though. You weren't particularly self conscious, at least, you didn't think you were until now. So many of the people here were so... built. Literally everyone looked so good. Toned or jacked or some variation, and then there was you. It really felt like no one else in this gym was starting out like you were. You really contemplated abandoning this whole "New year, new me" thing. That is, until you noticed the particularly attractive looking redhead using one of the weight lifting benches.

You didn't approach him as much as you simply decided to use a machine that happened to give you a fairly good view of his workout. You mentally chalked it up to envying his build and being curious as to what all he did to get that look. You didn't want to imagine yourself being no better than those guys that stalked women on the ellipticals. You noted how much he was lifting. It was more than you weighed. Thinking too much about it right now probably wasn't a good idea, but, of course, you did, and you felt your face get a bit warm. And it wasn't just because of the exercising. You pretty much watched him until he left the gym, which was when you realized that you'd also been working out that entire time and were kind of exhausted. Maybe this whole working out thing wouldn't be so bad, as long as you... had people to inspire you to keep going. Yeah, that's most defiantly what this was.

You didn't go through the trial and error of figuring out what the redhead's exact gym schedule was, but you did find that the time you had caught him the first time would be a weekly occurrence. And, via another gym bro's conversation with him, you found out his name. Eijiro. Eijiro Kirishima. You didn't see much of an issue with the way things were. You didn't have to endure the social awkwardness of trying to actually interact with him, and you got yourself to work out once a week. Seemed like an all around win to you. That is, at least until things took a bit of an.. unexpected turn.

It was any other work out session. Except, Eijiro wasn't there. You hadn't seen him walk in and he wasn't using any of the equipment you typically saw him using. You had to admit, it was disappointing, but you were already here and who knows, maybe he was just running behind today. Maybe there was a positive to this though. It gave you a chance to try out the equipment you always saw him using. Surely, it couldn't be that difficult.

You found yourself on one of the benches, trying your first bench presses. You didn't have a ton of weight on there, but it was definitely more than you probably should have started with. You did about two reps before you felt the weight suddenly get lighter and noticed someone above you.

"Whoa, man, you probably shouldn't be benching this much without a spotter."

You felt your face go red. Well, at least you would have if it wasn't already red from the exertion. There he was. The hot redhead, looking down at you with a surprisingly sharp smile. He helped you put the weight up, and you sat up, trying to find anything to say to this guy.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before. You're usually on the treadmill, right?"

He gestured over to where you usually planted yourself for about half your work out. That would mean... Oh god he noticed you. You tried not to stammer like a complete fool.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I was just trying something different today."

"If you want some tips, I don't mind helping you out and spotting for you."

He winked. Internally, you swooned. He was even more attractive up close. He chuckled a bit and you quickly made sure your expression wasn't completely awestruck or dumbfounded.

For the rest of your time that day, he helped you learn some of the equipment, even helping you find your boundaries and weight limits. He also showed you how to spot for other people, using himself to teach you. It felt like a blur, like it was happening all too fast but in slow motion at the same time. Soon enough though, it was getting late and you were both bit tired from it all. Well, at least you were. If he was tired, you wouldn't have been able to tell.

"So, same time next week?"

He asked. You took a moment to process what he was actually saying before quickly answering him.

"Yeah, yeah. Next week."

"Awesome. See ya, man."

You walked out of the gym that night feeling lighter than air. Part of you convinced this was all some weird dream. He noticed you. Not only that, he recognized you, which means he's noticed you at least more than once. You felt like that luckiest guy in the world right now.

It became a new routine for the two of you. You never thought you'd be so excited to go to the gym, and yet here you were, looking forward to getting to see your hot work out buddy. Time passed and you only found yourself falling for him more. His laugh, his bad jokes, his confidence. Everything about him made you feel more sure that you were in love with him. You just didn't expect him to feel the same. One night, after a particularly late running workout session, he looked over at you.

"I'm thinking about hitting the showers. You coming?"

That one was new. You knew he tended to shower here after workouts, but you always went home to do so. He would know this too by now, so the offer felt kind of weird. He continued.

"Your problem with showering here is cause usually there's more people right? It's pretty dead right now. I'm pretty sure it'd just be us."

He shrugged a bit, but he was right. Aside from a man and woman walking side by side on treadmills having their own conversation, you two were the only ones here. What's the worst that could happen? So, without thinking about it too much, you responded.

"Yeah, okay."

He grinned, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes as he grabbed his water bottle and started off for the men's locker room. You followed, not having too much of a second thought about it. You hadn't really seen the locker room, since you never had a reason to go inside until now, so you weren't sure what you had been expecting. It seemed like a normal locker room. Walls of lockers, an area off to the side with bathroom stalls, urinals, and sinks, and a wall of separated curtains, which you assumed were showers. A thought dawned on you.

"Wait, I can't actually."

"Why not?"

"Didn't bring a towel."

Or a change of clothes for that matter. He grinned.

"Hey, no worries. You know, I was hoping after this we could head to my place and hang out, if you didn't have plans or anything of course."

You looked at him a little puzzled by the way he worded it, but also with a slight blush. He wanted to hang out with you? Like actually? Not just here, working out, but actually hanging out. He continued, blushing a little bit himself.

"What I'm trying to say is if you wanted to hang out, we could both just shower at my place."

Ah. You took a second to shake your thoughts together.

"Yeah. Yeah, alright we can do that."

He grinned, picking his bag back up.

"Awesome. It's not a long walk from here. Do you walk here?"

"I usually take the train."

"Cool, just wanted to make sure you weren't, like, leaving your car here or something."

The outside air felt amazing after how hot you'd been between working out and blushing. Eijiro seemed relieved to be outside too, sighing contently with his head tipped back ever so slightly. You wondered what he could be thinking right now. The walk was peaceful, though still filled with the usual city sounds of cars, people talking, and trains. You usually didn't find it all as comfortable as you did right now. In a way, it was the familiarity of it while you otherwise dipped into an unknown territory. You followed him up to his place.

"Sorry if it's kind of messy."

He said, though you didn't see much. A few pieces of clothes and an empty soda can on the table was really the extent of what you'd consider a "mess."

"It's fine."

You hummed, looking around a little bit. His place was nice. You could definitely tell he was a gym bro between the workout posters and gear in the living room. Nothing excessive, a couple dumbbells on a rack in the corner near the tv and what could possibly be a medicine ball next to it. It definitely felt like he lived alone based on what you could gather just looking at the living room.

"So.. uh.."

You looked up, only now noticing that you had sort of zoned out looking at the room. Now you noticed something different though. Eijiro looked nervous, an expression you hadn't really seen on him before. He was blushing, harder than earlier, almost like how he looked right after finishing a particularly grueling set. You were sure you were matching his hue, simply because of the way he was looking at you. He continued.

"I.. you know, if you're even into that sort of thing, it'd be faster if we uh.."

He made a gesture, pointing with his thumb back behind him down the hall, looking pretty much anywhere but actually at you. You felt like you might explode if he didn't just spit it out. Was he asking you to shower with him? Was this actually happening? You opened your mouth to say something, whether that be helping him clarify his offer or burst into however many ways you could say "Yes, please wreck me in your shower," you didn't get to find out, because he finally finished his thought, though sighing in defeat as he decided to go for a more blunt approach.

"Look, I'm gay, you're really cute, do you wanna shower with me? I won't be offended if you say no, cause I get this is really sudden."

You took a second to scramble for any semblance of your composure. You nodded.

"Yeah"

"Wait, really?"

"...Yes?"

He grinned.

"Oh man, I was super worried you'd think I was a freak or something. C'mon, lets go."

He grabbed your hand and practically pulled you down the hall, not that you were complaining, he was just really excited. This was actually happening. You were half convinced this was some hyper realistic dream. Once in the bathroom you realized that yes, this was real, and he was really standing there, excited at the prospect of getting you into the shower with him. He didn't hesitate in taking off his tank top, unceremoniously dropping it on the floor before pausing to get the water turned on so it could warm up. You were hesitating. He turned back to look at you with this sort of reassuring half smile.

"Need a hand?"

He offered, though it was unclear if he was joking or not. You shook your head, pulling your shirt off. You already felt like you were about to combust, you didn't think you'd be able to handle it if he were to actually touch you in any way right now. He chuckled a bit before turning his attention back to himself, kicking his shorts off and into the pile with his top. You did your best not to stare, though it was proving very difficult. You felt your breathing grow more shallow when his thumbs hooked into the top of his boxers. You swallowed hard, half mindedly pushing your own shorts off, but not looking away from him. He was already so perfectly built, you shouldn't be surprised that he was also very well endowed. You were suddenly feeling more nervous. He grinned. Clearly, your reaction was boosting his ego.

"Good to know I don't have anything to worry about."

He joked. You almost stumbled over your shorts at your ankles. You kicked your shorts away from you, taking a pause. A few things made this embarrassing. One, you were being as graceful as a baby horse. Two, he was built like an actual god. And three, words could not do justice to how insanely hard you were right now. All of this mixed with the fact that he was staring at you, with this slight grin on his face. You decided to just do it. Rip it off like a bandage. You tossed your boxers aside, looking over at him now.

"C'mon. Let me know if the water is too hot or anything."

He said, way too casually for the situation in your opinion. But you did follow him into the shower. There was a comfortable amount of space considering there were two of you. You looked at his face. He was looking you over, slowly, taking in details. It made you want to squirm out of your skin. He traced back up to your face. He had a softer expression. Lidded eyes and a slight smirk.

"I'm glad I was right about you."

You were confused, your face expressing as much. He continued, seeing you didn't get it.

"You're really bad at being subtle, man. Don't think I didn't see you staring from the treadmill. You were practically drooling."

Despite his words, he sounded so genuine. It was weird. What he was saying made you want to lay down and die, but the way he said it just drew you in more. He put his hands on your hips, surprisingly gentle.

"And, uh, stop me if I'm getting the wrong idea, but if I had to guess, you're just as excited as I am to be like this."

His voice lowered a bit near the end. It made a shudder run down your spine. His grinned a bit wider.

"Yeah?"

He looked at your face, waiting. He wanted to continue. He wanted you. He wouldn't though, not unless you told him he could. You swallowed hard, but nodded.

"Yeah."

"Awesome."

He brought one hand up to cup the back of your head and pull you into a soft, yet firm kiss. It caught you off guard, if not just for a moment, before you melted into him. He held you close to him, feeling his body pressed up against yours. This was crazy. You were kissing him. In his shower. You felt like you should have at least played a little hard to get. This felt too easy. You didn't dwell on that thought too long though, because all of a sudden you felt the cool tile wall of the shower against your back. You hadn't even realized he was backing you up. You gasped against his lips. You could feel the smirk in the kiss.

His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing. One moved further, reaching around to feel your ass. You wished the sound that came out was less pathetic, but it was. You underestimated how desperate you were for this. Or maybe it was just for him. He broke the kiss, just sort of mumbling against your lips.

"You cool taking it?"

The question was vague, but you knew what he meant, and it made your face and chest flush red. You definitely weren't opposed. In fact, when you had occasional indulged yourself in letting your mind dip to dirty places, having him pin you to the wall and fuck you senseless was a reoccurring theme. So you nodded, a little too quickly to come across as anything but needy and desperate. You felt his hand move further back and, carefully to start, a finger pushing into you. You grit your teeth.

Yeah. It'd definitely been a minute since you'd done anything like this.

"Relax, you're doing great. Don't worry, alright? I'm taking care of it. Just focus on me."

His voice was a gentle tone, cooing you into submission. It made you wonder how many tense partners he's had to deal with. I suppose everyone has a type.

His motions started slow, careful, like he might break you if he didn't. As he started to open you up, he seemed to be less focused. He buried his face in the side of your neck as he added another finger. You felt his teeth graze your neck. It sent a delightful tingling sensation down your body, landing in your stomach and twisting around in there like a herd of butterflies. You willed yourself not to cum from just this. How pathetic would that be? Cumming before he even got to the good part. You groaned softly, almost painfully.

He added a third finger. You had seen how big he was, so you understood why he was prepping so much. That didn't keep you from wanting him to hurry up and just fuck you already so, if nothing else, you didn't look completely desperate when you finally gave in to the intense feelings. You managed though, because soon enough he was pulling his fingers out and turning you around to face the wall.

"How's this angle?"

He asked, almost teasingly, emphasizing with a squeeze of your ass.

You were practically panting at this point.

"Eijiro, please."

You managed, hoping to not sound like a complete fool. If you had been looking, you'd have seen the confident smirk on his face. He could not wait to wreck you. You felt him pressing against you, holding your hips firmly in place. You pressed your forehead to the wall, trying not to audible sob at the feeling. If you hadn't seen his dick already, you'd simply assume his quirk was that he had a monster cock. After slowly pushing in for what felt like an eternity, he stopped. You were already breathing heavy. He leaned down to your ear, talking in that low tone.

"Half-way there. You doing okay?"

HALF??

You opened your mouth to respond, but much to your dismay, all that came out was a mix between a moan and a whine. He kissed behind your ear.

"You're doing so good, y/n. So fucking good. It'll be easier next time."

He tried to reassure you as he slowly pushed in more. It was almost enough to distract you from the fact that he said next time. You knew he'd bottomed out when you felt his hips against your ass. You felt so full in the best way possible. You could hear how hard he was breathing. He gave you some time to adjust, gently massaging your hips as he did.

You thought you were doing great at holding yourself together, at least considering the circumstances. Then he pulled out about half way and slammed his hips back into you. That's all it took. You moaned out as you came. It was so much, too much. You took a second to catch your breath.

No. No way. You did not just do that.

You felt a mix of embarrassment and shame in your chest. You went to say something, but then he did it again, pulling out and snapping his hips. It just about knocked you over with how little you were expecting it. Though you couldn't see it, he grinned.

"You can handle a little more, yeah?"

You pressed your forehead to the wall, taking a moment. He waited. You eventually nodded. Yeah. You could handle it. You just hoped he'd be willing to carry you out of the shower afterwards. It was the least you could do though. You didn't want to leave a bad impression.

"I'm gonna need a little more than a nod."

Part of him wanted to hear you say it because it would be really hot, but truthfully, he wanted to make sure you were okay. He didn't want to hurt you. You took a minute to find your voice.

"Yeah... Yeah, I can take it."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

His hips snapped again, his hold on you getting a little tighter as he braced you, not wanting you to slip. He wasn't holding back anymore. He found a decent pace, not too fast, more so focusing on how hard he was going. He wanted to ruin you. He wanted you to be his. If he had it his way, no other guy would ever get a chance to have you like this.

You felt like you were falling apart a little more with every snap of his hips against your ass. You felt your legs getting weaker beneath you. Thankfully, he had a good hold of you. You never thought you'd be as vocal as you were, but here you were, groaning and whining, pretty pathetically in your own opinion. You weren't too focused on that now though, because he was picking up the pace, and you were effectively fucked stupid.

"Almost there, y/n. Fuck, you're doing so good."

His voice was rough, out of breath. You didn't realize it was building until all of a sudden, you were cumming again. You slumped against the wall a little more. Thankfully, it wasn't much longer before he pulled out, groaning through gritted teeth. You felt your back and ass getting painted as he finished on you as opposed to in you.

The room got quiet, aside from your combined heavy breathing and the shower running. After a moment, you felt his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

"At least we're already in the shower, right?"

He joked lightly as he got you more directly under the water. It felt nice. He must've turned it down or something, because the water was pleasantly cool against your skin as he washed you off. You wished you could have been of more help, but you were honestly sort of useless at the moment. If wrecked is what he wanted, it was what he got. Not that he minded much. He thought you looked cute all dazed and tired.

Once he'd clean you both off, he helped you out of the shower, wrapping a towel around you. He grabbed one for himself too, drying off. The two of you went into his room and pretty much collapsed onto his bed. He looked over at you, smiling.

"I've been thinking about doing that for weeks."

He laughed. You smiled.

"We might have to wait weeks before doing it again."

"Aw, what? How come?"

"Because I don't think I'll be walking until then."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

"It'll be worth the wait."

You kissed him. You were more than sure it would be.

[glossgojo]

he looks like he works with his hands (part 2/2) | part 1

pre-outbreak!joel miller x reader | 2k words

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v sex, size kink, joel has a big d!ck, breeding kink (it’s me like come on), from the back, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, dumbification, reader is down BAD, it’s just p0rn no plot i fear

your back bounced against your soft mattress, the lamp in your room illuminating joel’s face as he stared down at you, unbuckling his pants. you were adorned only in a crop top as joel pulled down his jeans and it felt like hours passed by before joel was leaning over you in his boxers. your hands found the hem of his shirt tugging at it and joel removed it in one swift movement. you gasped, your cheeks impossibly flushed already as your eyes roamed his bare chest. the hair on his chest made you dizzy, your hands pressed against the firm muscles and softness in places. it felt like heaven touching his bare skin, and joel couldn’t even begin to understand the adoration in your eyes.

“did you think about me over the years?” joel growled out, when your small fingers brushed his nipples. the incessant thought that you had wanted him for years was burrowing a deep hole in his brain and even if he didn’t admit it, his heart. joel pulled you out of your head, his thumb brushing the skin of your hip, lighting your skin on fire. the man had just eaten you out like a starved man but the gentle touch alone made you squirm.

“more often than not.” you whined out, arching into him as his hands cupped your ass, his rough hands held on tightly, as if you were going somewhere. joel slapped your ass lightly, asking for more, wanting you to spill the dirty secrets of your little crush. “i thought about you at night, mostly,“ your words fell dead on your tongue as joel groaned at your words, his eyes narrowed as he shoved his boxers down and his cock slapped against his stomach. it was too big, there was so much of it, your mind raced with thoughts that made you flush further.

“did you think about me when you touched yourself sweetheart?” you nodded, your mouth watered at the sight of joel’s huge cock lining itself up with your entrance. joel could imagine it, your smell pretty fingers fucking into yourself as you whined his name out, he felt his ego boost at the image. his dick twitched as he swallowed down the need to make you his, as if you hadn’t been for the past couple of years. your eyes widened at the sight.

“joel s’too big.” joel’s grip tightened at that.

“you can take it darlin’, i’ll go slow.” he reached for your bedside table, seemingly looking for a condom and you shook your head, tugging on his strands.

“no, wanna feel you.” joel thought he might just cum from the words spilling out of your mouth, or the whine to your voice, or the dazed look in your eyes. he was losing his patience. he swiped his tip along your entrance, collecting the arousal that was forming again and you whined at the feeling of his thick head grazing your clit. joel was seeing stars. he pushed the tip in and your cried out his name, reeling for the stretch of his thickness. joel let you get used to it, pressed kisses to your cheeks and whispered encouragements, “good girl, you can take it, doing so well for me.” you felt your heart swell at his encouragements, it helped you relaxed as you nodded for him to keep going.

joel moved slowly, pushing inch by inch, praising and guiding you through it until his tip kissed your cervix and you groaned at the feeling. you were so full of him, you could feel his veins, could feel him pulsing and desperate to move within you. as he dragged against your walls, it felt he was molding you to his shape and it made you dizzy. you pressed a chaste kiss to joel’s lips, “fuck me joel.” and joel didn’t hesistate before pulling out and fucking back into you, robbing the air from your lungs as your hands flew from his hair to his shoulders. he fucked into you like he’d die if he didn’t turn you into jelly underneath him, every time his head brushed against your cervix or touched that spot, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

joel was losing himself to the way you were sucking him in every time we fucked into you, like he was in danger of ever wanting to stop. you were so fucking tight, surrounding him and he could feel you practically dripping onto him, coating him with your need for him. he was brutal as he set a pace that made his balls slap against you, the room filled with obscene sounds. you clung onto his back, your hands slipping as he began to sweat. you were crying out his name every time he made your back arch, you felt close again. finally when joel pressed a kiss to the side of your head you came around him, clenching and suffocating joel, making him groan at the feeling. the feeling made joel lose control and he stuffed himself into you, filling you to the brim as he came. he was coating your walls, making you his, when he moved to pull out, your nails dug into his back, holding him there and joel fell a little bit in love with you.

even as you slowed your breathing you wanted him inside, you loved the feeling of being filled by him, never wanting it to end. you hated the fact that his cum was spilling out, coating your thighs but it was better than being empty. joel’s arms were getting tired from holding himself over you and as you came back to your senses you moved to shove his shoulder, joel didn’t know what you wanted until you shoved him onto his back. joel had no doubts, he was in love.

you frowned as more cum spilled out of you in the movement, but you let yourself slowly sink down on his cock, not being able to take it all even now. joel could feel his own cum spilling over his cock and he threw his head back, not able to understand how he had never experienced anything hotter than this in his entire life. joel propped a pillow under his head and brought his knees up, against your ass and you put your hands on his stomach for support.

“go on sweet girl.” joel murmured watching your pussy stretch around him as you sank down more. your back arched at the feeling, you had lost count of how many times you had come. you wanted more, you wanted joel to fill you up so you could leak his cum for days. you were probably losing your mind but in your haze, it was the only thought you could make out. joel watched as you ground yourself on him, cum spilling out every now and then, joel wished he could take a picture to make it last forever, wished he could record the noises you were making so he could listen to it whenever he wanted. the scene in front of him was making a familiar heat crawl back into his stomach, his dick twitching inside and your movements halted. joel watched as you looked down at him with a smile on your lips, he didn’t answer you just reached out to two fingers and wiped up the cum dripping down your thighs and tried to push it back inside you. you whined at the feelings of his thumbs against you, joel smirked.

a few more desperate movements made him hard, you gasped at the feeling of him so deep inside you you felt tears sting your eyes. joel tapped your thigh that was straddling his own, silently asking you to move. obedient as always, you moved slowly up and down his cock, your legs aching at the feeling. joel could see you losing your strength, his fingers shoving more cum back inside, before he planted his feet on the matress and fucked up into you. you cried out his name, your hands flying to his hips to found yourself as you felt him fuck his cum deeper inside you. “fucking insatiable.” he growled out as you arched your back and felt yourself grow close again, clenching around him.

“come with me darlin’” you nodded, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. it was such a sweet act in contrast to the sinful image in front of joel he didn’t think he’d ever forget you. you were ingrained into his memory, like his first kiss or his first heartache. he fucked up into you, spilling into you even more and you let him fill you up, beaming at the fealing, joel’s free hand found your clit, using the mixture of his cum and your arousal to lubricate his fingers as he massaged it.

you twitched at the feeling and like it was the only word you knew you moaned at his name when you came, slumping forward, cum spilling onto both of your bodies. you groaned at the feeling and joel laughed at your reaction, you both were sweaty and filthy but it didn’t matter. joel pressed a kiss to your head, bringing up your intertwined hands to kiss your fingers and you melted into him. although joel appreciated your soft and warm body against his, he wanted to clean you up before you slept. he gently moved to his side, brushing your hair out of your face until you peeked at him. the warm smile on his face gave you butterflies.

“gonna grab a towel to clean you up,” you nodded slightly, letting him go as you removed your hands and joel left after covering you with a blanket. if he kept treating you like this you might never move on from him. after what felt like hours, joel returned with a towel, water, and back in his boxers. although the last part was a little disappointing you thanked him as he cleaned you up and let you drink the water.

as if he wasn’t already the best partner you’d been with, he helped you change even asking you where your pajamas were. when joel didn’t make any motions to leave you felt yourself your throat close, were you about to cry? oh god you were truly gone for him.

joel got under the blanket and you turned fully towards him. you wanted to say something, wanted to confirm this was real, that it would be real when you woke up, but you couldn’t find it in you. joel could see doubt and fear swimming in your mind, could see the storm brewing behind your eyes. but he thought you were regretting this.

“we can pretend this never happened,” it was more of a question and you swallowed down the anxiety that spiked from his thought. you controlled your voice as spoke next.

“do you want to?”

“no” joel didn’t hesitate, moving closer to you by a fraction and it was all you needed, your anxiety vanishing like that. a small smile creeped onto your lips and slowly joel was starting to understand.

“i don’t either, you’re stuck with me miller.” you said before you moved closer and pressed a kiss to his lips. joel let himself get lost in your taste, for the first time he felt like there was no rush. he had time with you.

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[truegoist]

LOVE LANGUAGES - quality time warnings;; gn reader. both of u are downbad(🤢🤢) . u kiss also. 1.3k words

RIN ITOSHI isn’t the most affectionate person by nature, the extreme drive for his soccer carrier has left the man stranded the permanent aggravated expression that runs through the itoshi bloodline definitely doesn’t help

in all senses, rin itoshi is not the one you expect to appear at your door, 4 in the morning.

For a couple of minutes you just stare at eachother, him fully dressed and annoyingly awake; you in your pajamas and hardly aware at your presence on earth.

“It’s my birthday” is what he says simply. “Why are you not ready” Perhaps it’s just you, but the tone in his voice seems even more agitated than usual.

“Ready for what rin?” You can see the white fog of your breath as you exhale, you don’t want to be mean to the boy on his birthday but he really is challenging his chances

“You said we’d hang out at four. It’s already four thirty five and you aren’t even ready” His tone is harsh. Accusing. But in those teal eyes that had always resembled glaciers to you now look melted down, you can tell deep down the reason for his bother is different than your so called lack of punctuality.

You can tell he’s afraid you may have forgotten about a plan that meant so much to him. He’s afraid you may not even care about it, or him. He’s terrified to not mean half as much to one person he cares about.

He won’t ever voice it. But somehow you know, or perhaps you hope that this is what he thinks; that he longs for you as much as you do for him.

It’s stupid really, how your heart fluttered at the sight of him in your door or how you can’t even bring yourself to be properly mad at him.

That’s cute and all but that doesn’t change the fact that you planned to sleep a good 2 more hours.

“Rin” you finally speak again “I meant 4 pm why would you think- How long have you even been awake for?”

A small oh leaves the strikers lips as he looks at you, dumbfounded. It appears that normally people don’t arrange meetings before dawn only occurring to him now.

With the new emotion in his face rin quite resembles a stray puppy, so much you suddenly get the urge to coddle him

“Well do you want to come inside? We can eat breakfast or something”

He trails behind you to kitchen, with how long you’ve two been friends rin knows the way as good as his own and it’s him who takes the lead on your small walk towards kitchen.

crack

The egg falls to the pan with a satisfying sound, normally you’d have gone with something easier like cereal but the mr sportsman seated in your kitchen now is determined to force his stupidly healthy diet onto you as much as he can.

Despite all his protests and attempts to help you have him sat near the table as you prepare everything. It’s half because it’s his special day and half because he’s a complete disaster in kitchen(perhaps more the later than first).

While doing so you’ve been rambling on and on about whatever comes to your mind to fill his silence, on small changes in your life, school, a show you liked, the cute cat you saw on the street yesterday… Perhaps with someone else this could feel like a monologue but it’s different with rin; maybe it’s the way how he always looks so concentrated on whatever you say, or the way he always remembers everything you’ve told to the smallest detail. Or maybe it’s just your feelings for him that make this enjoyable for you

Whatever it is, it’s how it goes between you two: you talk, and he listens. Aside from the cynical remarks here and there, talking isn’t his thing. Even if sometimes you wished it was, you wished that for once he’d be the one to talk, be the one to tell the words you never brought yourself to speak to him.

With a tap on your shoulder that caught you off guard, you almost hit the man on the face. And you probably would’ve if he didn’t caught your hand midair.

Maybe it’s because you were too caught upon telling whatever story you were on or maybe it was because the eerily quiet way rin moves for a man his size but you only notice how close he has gotten to you at this moment.

So you can almost feel the warmth emitting of his skin. So close you can hear his breath. And suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the way your very own heartbeat seems to quicken.

Perhaps it’s because it’s so early in the morning, but there’s something just so romantic about this moment; how close you two are, how the newly setting sunshine dances on his face.

You need serious help.

“Sorry did I bore you?” Once again, you’re the one to break the silence. Yes that must be it, he was just bored with you talking all the time. You should stop dreaming.

He blinks a few times, it’s evident he finds even the suggestion of such idea absurd “I enjoy listening to you (name), I thought you knew that” you hate yourself for it but even those simple words gives you such euphoria that it practically overwhelms you. Plus he still hasn’t let go of your wrist.

You have to leave before you do something seriously stupid. Like pour your heart out to rin itoshi

“That reminds me! I got something for your birthday,” You originally planned to give it to him much later, but you’re desperate and you need out “it’s upstairs if you’d let me go I can just run real quick and ge-”

“Don’t want it”

His grasp on your wrist is now much more firm, it contrasts the previous gentleness of his touch towards you. Rin has always treated you with fragility that it’s only now you realize how strong he actually is.

“I told you I don’t want you to buy me anything” his bright, teal eyes look more like a turquoise as the sun hits them, leaving you captivated by them even in this moment “But if you’re that insistent on giving me something then um…”

His newly found confidence starts to die down as he mutters the next bit “if you really want to gift me…you can give me something else” the last part is said in such low whisper that you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to hear it if weren’t for how close you two are right now. Maybe your eyes are playing a game to you right now but you can see red on his cheeks.

You must be dreaming. Or it’s that you aren’t fully awake right now and can’t think clearly, because there’s no way the rin itoshi is saying what you think he is

Fuck it, you’ve waited long enough

Your pull on him is harsher than you intended, your lips practically to crash to each other but neither of you seem to care. His body is warm against yours, and he tastes of mint.

You’re not sure how long have passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity. Or perhaps it was just a moment, shorter than one blink.

Before you can even process what just happened, you’re hit with another shock; he is smiling

rin itoshi is smiling. not a know it all “I said so”type of smirk. not a forced one.

But one that creeps bigger and bigger as he stares to you, mimicking the way red blossoms to his cheek. Yours probably aren’t much different right now either

At that moment one sentence slips out of your mouth;

“Happy birthday rin”