#now i can fuck around (write this goddamn oneshot)

[hollywoodsargeant]

I JUST STARTED READING AND ALREADY I CAN SEE MY CROPS BEING WATERED AND MY SKIN CLEARING 🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇

THIS IS THE GOAL! crops watered. skin clear. We Are So Back

[dreamermonica]

—gender neutral reader x bakugou, just a drabble escalating into a oneshot cause my brain's rotting with mha (mostly katsuki) pls save me from the dump called writing block errr also mild language cuz this is boom boy

“what the hell?”

a very bad word crossed your mind the moment BAKUGOU had entered your dorm room—following shortly is a silence so dense that you swore you heard your stomach drop.

the object that had piqued the attention of your visitor were perched right upon your desk. the very same object that could very well also be the reason you meet your demise.

your dynamight plushies and figurines,

yes. plural.

—were bared in display, to the very man you harbored a big fat crush on.

the silence enveloped your room like a tight veil. a shudder makes its way down your spine when you finally felt a piercing gaze burning onto the back of your head. you are so fucked.

“i—uhm, i can explain!” you break the silence, holding your hands up whilst turning around to meet his crimson eyes—scanning you over whilst you attempt to figure out an excuse.

let's do a quick throwback:

see, you were rather confident in your abilities and quirk—one of the best, you smugly think—but academics were still a great obstacle to overcome, even for an upcoming pro hero. it's a formidable force that's against your dream becoming reality! not really, but you get the point.

damned ectoplasm shouldn't be teaching math! your brain cells were always fizzled out like kaminari's after he used up all his electricity by the time whenever ectoplasm had left the room after a discussion.

a dark cloud looms over your head more often after a particular topic you're struggling to comprehend, the fact that you were called out earlier by ectoplasm and miserably failed to answer didn't hell—and you're sure your god-sent classmates have noticed it.

a few smarties had reached out already—like yaoyorozu and iida, offering their notes with a smile and promising a few tutor lessons if you were to accept. keyword: if.

even though you were tearing up at their kindness and thoughtfulness, you gently declined them before slapping a fist to your chest—

“i shall overcome this by myself! my failure to adapt is a known weakness of mine, and i shall defeat this boss known as calculus with my own strength, no matter what it takes!”

a distant 'how manly!' sounded throughout the room.

it's not manly, you mentally cry out to kirishima. you were just embarrassed to actually get help because you were one of the top students of the class. you need to uphold your image as a capable student, whatever it takes! not so manly now, are we?!

the top one and top two worriedly glance you over, reluctant at your reasoning, but they hadn't pushed it further thankfully, and wished you good luck.

you definitely needed it, you sulk.

your stupid declaration must've spread throughout the entire class, cause now a scowling bakugou katsuki is stomping his way over to you once classes had finished, stopping a few feet away from you whilst you were packing up your stuff.

“oi. i heard your dumb ass earlier—why are you refusing to ask for help?! you plan on getting behind all of us just because of that damn picture perfect image of yours?!” he yells, and you're now sweating, twiddling with your fingers.

you're not surprised that he approached you—he had declared you as one of his rivals (he called you a stepping stone to his victory but same thing!) ages ago and knowing his competitive nature, you surmised he was probably disappointed that you were stumped in such a pathetic way.

“w-what pride do you mean, bakugo? haha...”

“shut the fuck up. you know what i'm talking about,” a finger presses onto your chest as if to emphasize his point, and you just now realize the distance between you.

caramel wafts its way to your nose. heat crawls up your neck as you avert your gaze away from his chiseled face.

he hisses at your dazed look, “i'm beating calculus into your goddamn brain later tonight whether you like it or not, you got that extra?!”

you break out of your stupor when he leans away from you to gauge your reaction. of course he'd say something like that, even if he was just trying to help.

you shrink under his gaze, embarrassed and defeated at his intensity. if even the big bad bakugo thinks you need help, then maybe you really do.

“...okay.” you resign after a few seconds of contemplation, “thank you, bakugo.”

clicking his tongue, he gives you one last look before turning on his heels, walking towards the door.

you look around and realize that you were the only ones left in the classroom. did he offer his help in private so you would keep the image you're upholding? eh, whatever, he was probably the embarrassed one because he never offers help willingly to anyone.

you blink.

wait—he never helps unless someone would beg on their knees for him, so why—

“...you were always the one preaching about lowering my pride or whatever,”

your eyes dart towards the sound of his voice where bakugo paused his steps at the exit, glaring at you over his shoulder.

he huffs as he adds on, “cut that shit out, hypocrite.”

you blink owlishly and he's gone as he turned the corner, his loud footsteps echoing through the hall.

shaking your head, you pack your stuff up and rush out the door shortly after, eager to return to the comfort provided by your bed.

his words ring in your ears as you walked back to the dorms.

—now, baam, we're back to the present.

you're so fucked, if it wasn't mentioned earlier.

bakugou katsuki is now staring at you, silently demanding an explanation on why you have a row of mini dynamights, ranging from the winter version of his costume, to one of him wearing his signature black tank top—he hasn't even debuted yet as a pro-hero, so the amount you have is probably concerning. maybe even borderline creepy.

fuck being creepy—this probably looks horrifying!

“it's—uh...”

you hadn't had the chance to hide them before he so rudely, barged into your room carrying the materials needed for your study session.

“well, you're my idol, because you're so strong and—” inflate his ego! it's not like it wasn't the truth either with how much you compliment him during training, so maybe he'll be distracted enough and let it slide—

“did ponytail make these for you?” he asked quietly, ignoring your praises and walking past your panicked state as he got closer to inspect the tiny versions of him. he slowly took one from the bunch—a plushie of him wearing the suit he specifically used for a mission in otheon. “how the hell are the outfits so accurate?”

“...”

“answer my questions and i'll let this weird obsession of yours a secret, fuckin' creep.” he seems to like the way you took in his words, horrified, a smirk dancing on his lips as he turns away.

this sadist, you swear to all might...

“okay, okay! so uh...” you gulp as he continues inspecting the army of tiny bakugous, “yes, i had yaoyorozu make them. as for the outfits—i borrowed your blueprints, remember? it was to find some inspiration in enhancing my own costume, but i guess it also had some other uses...?”

he grunts in response to your explanation as his eyes move away from the desk and land onto your bed, where a few more plushies of him resided.

your face is definitely burning up by now.

“wasn't aware you were a fan,” you could hear the grin as he spoke, and you're one hundred percent sure he's never going to live this down, “well, i guess it's expected. i am amazing after all.”

“...yeah.” you agree, albeit cautious, trying to sound uneager to avoid inflating his ego anymore than you already have.

he moves to lean over your bed and grabs a plushie of him wearing his school uniform, squeezing it lightly, “but if you want me to be honest—this shit's kinda creepy.”

would he stop you if you just took a swan dive out of your window? should you get him to roast you alive right now? you wish all might would just united-states-smash you at this moment.

your hands shoot up to your face as you crouched down, too humiliated to even look at him even if he wasn't facing you.

“kill me now...”

“i've got plenty of chances to do that in the future, don't worry,” he's oddly calm for someone who's standing in a room practically devoted to him, “this is pretty adorable of you i must admit,”

you freeze. tickle my pickle! no fucking way he just called you adorable!

“you got a crush on me or something?”

ah.

this is it. you hope you've done enough good to end up in heaven atleast.

“well, if you're not gonna kill me, we should probably just study and get it over with—oh, we should also just go down to the commons—

“i told you to answer all my questions, didn't i!?”

“...”

the blonde finally turns, hands free of any plushies, crossing his arms over his chest as you stare up at him through the gaps of your fingers. he raises a challenging brow at your hesitation.

“well?” he urges on, “did you go mute from embarrassment or something?”

you say something underneath your breath and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“speak up, you idio—”

“i like you, bakugou katsuki.”

you stand up from your crouched position and situated yourself to your desk, bringing out your textbooks from a drawer as he stared on silently. the silence had grown thicker than the one before.

“let's just get this study session over with so you can go, okay?” you spin around your office chair to look at him with a small smile, as if you didn't just confess, “wanna go down to the commons? my room seems to be uncomfortable for y—

“i was joking about the creep shit, you dumbass.”

you stare at him in surprise when he holds you by the shoulders, gently pushing down to prevent you from getting up from your chair.

“bakugou...?”

“...i'll teach you here. no need to get up.”

“but—”

“shut up. get ponytail to make me a plushie of you so we're even, alright?”

confused, you're about to speak up again and he resolves it by squeezing your cheeks, resulting in only incoherent babbles from your mouth.

“bafhkugou—!”

“ugh, i like you too, if your dumbass hasn't gotten it yet.”

“ohfmayghodf—”

“shut it. no more words from you.” he waits a moment for you to calm down, and lets go of your burning cheeks. a smile grows on his face when you weakly glare up at him, but it quickly turns wicked in the span of a second.

“now...you were so eager to start studying earlier, weren't you?”

he unfortunately wasn't joking about beating the damn subject onto your brain. you could feel a mild headache from all the times he hit your head with a roll of paper.

but nonetheless, you know the hard work and pain paid off when you finally got a question right during ectoplasm's class.

bless bakugou, you'd kiss him right now if you could—

“so,” the boy in question starts as you discreetly hand him a plushie of you in your hero costume, he seems to brighten up at that, taking it nearly immediately, but attempts to appear unbothered as he moves his gaze back to yours.

“are we gonna talk about that body pillow last night or—”

“katsuki—no.”

“pfft,” he snorts, “suit yourself, fangirl.”

imagine your surprise when yaoyorozu snitches and tells you that bakugou practically threated her to make more plushies of you after he received the initial one

[anganginnie]

oral fixation ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ | yang jeongin oneshot

WARNINGS !! : smut in like the first few seconds, dom! jeongin, not a lot of use of y/n, fempov, jeongin has an oral fixation clearly, y/n treats jeongin like a baby and he gets fed up, not proofread don't shoot me, got lazy at the end, degrading/rude jeongin ??? idk anymore, slightly shitty diologue bc i'm better at writing the atmosphere than what ppl say

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

It was supposed to be a joke, or at least that's what you thought it was. Your best friend, Jeongin, had been close to you ever since kindergarten. You would help him with pretty much everything due to the fact that he was 3 years younger than you, even if it wasn't a big age gap in his eyes. You treated him like a baby. Your baby.

Jeongin, on the other hand, grew to absolutely despise being treated like a child. Any time the two of you were together, he would do anything to show you he was grown up now-- purposefully touching your waist or "playfully" pulling you into his lap, he needed to show you who he really was, not some kid you had to protect.

He would often come to your place, not bothering to text prior or set specific dates, it was just natural.

So when he plopped down next to you on your bed completely uninvited, you didn't mind, your head lying on his solid chest for a change as you attempted to match his breathing with yours. You completely missed the way his eyes darted to your lips, just imagining how well they would wrap around his fingers as you focused on the meaningless video playing on your phone.

"Look at me." His voice was monotone, your eyebrows furrowing as he spoke but glanced up at him nonetheless. He took his time soaking in your features, to your freckled cheeks down to your soft and slightly uneven lips, grinning to himself as a hand came up to caress your cheek.

"Jeong, what are you doing?" You questioned with a small chuckle, a confused expression on your face watching his thumb trace your lower lip, pressing down on it lightly and not enough to cause any pain.

"You need something? I can whip something up real fast, just give me a second-"

His thumb quickly shoved past your lips, watching with narrowed eyes as you mumbled against him, cheeks growing a deep red at his confidence.

"Fuck, y/n. I can make my own goddamn food," He paused, letting his thumb roam around your tongue-- just like he imagined. "I don't need you to pretend like you're my big sister just to hide that you're a slut, alright?" Jeongin's gaze never left those glossy lips of yours, noting how your pupils dilated with each word he spoke.

"So sit here, and take it."

With that, he added another finger, observing the saliva dripping down your chin. It was sinful. He shouldn't be enjoying this, he shouldn't enjoy watching his best friend struggle to take his fingers down her warm throat, but he did. He lived for it.

The soft whimper that escaped your mouth was enough to send him into a spiral, letting out a low groan as his free hand reached for your hair. "I need to taste you. Let me taste you, baby." He whispered lowly, pulling you close just for you to feel the growing tent in his pants.

You nodded shakily, ignoring how you looked like a complete mess with his large fingers shoved down you throat and drool seeping through the corners of your mouth.

"That's a good girl." A smirk corrupted his face, your eyes ones of disappointment as he pulled out of you-- but quickly replaced his digits with a kiss, his tongue pushing against yours.

He was quick to flip you on your back, not breaking the kiss as his hands fumbled for your hips-- moaning against your lips after feeling the obvious wet spot he had caused.

"I could stare at you all fucking day,"

He pulled back only to rip your panties down your thighs, gently shoving your legs apart. He couldn't miss the way your hands came up to your face at his perverted comments, a coy smile appearing on his mouth.

"Don't hide from me baby, let me see all of you," A rough hand came up to grab your wrists, keeping them held in one hand as he buried his face deep inside your cunt, making mental notes of how you moaned and cried for him.

"Ah- Fuck! Jeongin, please.." You didn't know what you were begging for, to be entirely honest, you were so fucked out you could barely think.

He hummed against you, lapping at your folds as his tongue circled your clit-- making your thighs shake from the stimulation.

It wouldn't take long for your release, chest heaving and cheeks red as he gave your inner thigh a harsh smack, letting you know to be still. "You wanna come for me?" He mumbled, inserting a finger inside your hole, feeling you clench around him as he sucked on your clit.

Your eyes shut tightly, letting out the most shameful sound on earth as you came to your high.

The only sound was your heavy breathing, which didn't last long as Jeongin went in for another kiss. This one was softer and full of apologies, slowly moving down to your neck.

"Get the hell off me, Yang Jeongin, you're such an ass." You attempted to suppress your laughs, pushing him away from you with a weak grunt.

"And stop being such a pervert!" Your hand gently striked his shoulder, unable to hide the growing pout on your face.

"You should've told me to stop treating you like a kid instead of shoving your fingers down my goddamn throat." Jeongin watched with his head propped up on his hand, licking your juices off his fingers with a sly smirk.

"Oh come on, where's the fun in that when I can just fuck you to your senses?"

Well, he wasn't entirely wrong..

[darkbluekies]

never trust a cupcake

Female!yandere x male!reader

Summary: mean boy yn got too popular for Hedwig's taste, so she took him

A/N: started to write this oneshot back in August/September but never finished, so I'm releasing what I had done as a drabble instead :)

Warnigns: hedwig goes insane, poison/drugs, knife, kidnapping, throwing up

You can't remember what happened. You were eating the cupcakes you got from Hedwig and suddenly … you felt sick. You must have fallen asleep. But where are you now? You look around, head pounding. You're in a … kitchen? A very fancy kitchen. Whatever Hedwig put in the cupcakes, you still feel sick and as if you're about to throw up. You try to stand up from the chair you've been placed on and quickly notice that your hands are tied behind your back and your feet to the legs. Confusion starts to fade into anger and you tug at the ropes harshly. One thing leads to another and you end up on the floor. The loud sound of wood hitting marble echoes through the large room. You manage to lift your head in the last second before it smashes against the floor.

Suddenly, a familiar face runs in. The anger runs off. Confusion is back.

"Hedwig?" you pant.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that you were awake!" she apologizes quickly and pulls the chair up with you on it. She cups your cheeks and she lets her hand wander into your hair. "Are you hurt? You didn't hit your head in the fall, did you?"

You turn your head back and forth to get free from her grip.

"What have you done?" you ask harshly.

"W-What do you mean?" Hedwig asks unsurely.

"Did you kidnap me?!"

"Y-Y/N, please don't say it like that! I didn't kidnap you! I brought you home!" She sighs and lets her shoulders slump, voice grow small. "I couldn't watch you be swarmed by all the girls in school … I had to have you by myself. It doesn't matter if you're mean to me … I still love you."

You stare at her in disbelief. Hedwig has always been clingy and suffocating, but you could never have anticipated that she would kidnap you.

"Hedwig, what the actual fuck?" you breathe out. "Untie me. Now."

"Not yet", she answers hesitantly. "You have to calm down first."

"Calm- …?" You snap. "Who are you to tell me to calm down?! You fucking kidnapped me! How sick in the head do you have to be in the head to do such a goddamn thing?! Untie me now!"

Hedwig’s just standing there … listening. You can tell that something shifts behind her eyes. She's trying to hide that she gets sad. As if she's telling herself that she doesn't care if you're mean, when in reality she does. Telling herself that you can be mean makes her feel better about herself.

"You don't need to be scared", Hedwig says carefully. "I'm not going to hurt you. I didn't mean for us to start our relationship like this … but you got too popular for your own good."

You scoff. Fear has started to creep into your heart.

Hedwig walks over to the kitchen isle where a glass dome covers a neatly stacked tower of cupcakes. She picks out one and walks over to you. The sight of it causes your stomach to turn.

"Here, I think you should eat", she says.

"I'm not eating anything from you", you almost growl. "Do you really think I trust you?"

"This isn't dangerou. It's a normal cupcake." She breaks off a bit and puts it in her mouth. "See?"

You watch how she breaks off another bit and moves closer, close enough for you to smell her perfume. It's sweet enough to make your head spin.

"Open your mouth", she says softly.

"Hedwig …", you say distantly. "I feel sick."

Hedwig suddenly becomes alert and runs for a bucket. She returns and holds it up to your face. The bucket smells of strong cleaning chemicals and that is enough to awoken the beast in your stomach. It spurs out of you like a waterfall.

"Good boy", she says softly, running her fingers through your hair. "Get it out of you. You're doing so good. My good boy …"

Finally, you're cleansed. Hedwig puts the bucket in the hallway and gets you a glass of cold water. You hesitate before gulping it down. She tries again to feed you the cupcake.

"I'm never going to eat cupcakes again", you mutter and glare at her.

"Alright … I understand", she sighs and walks over to the fridge. "Cheese?"

You don't answer. You'd rather have cheese than the cupcake, but you'll not tell her. Hedwig returns with a charcuterie board. She picks up a cheddar cheese.

"Open your mouth", she smiles.

This time, you obey. She places the cheese on your tongue and watches how you chew.

"You're such a good boy", she says dreamily and caresses your cheek. "My boy."

She feeds you some more pieces.

"Can I untie you now?" she asks. "I want to change you out of your school uniform."

You nod frantically. Hedwig sits on her knees to untie your feet and sneaks behind your back. As soon as you're free, you jump up and run.

"Y/N!" Hedwig gasps.

You run over to the front door and grab the majestic handles, but it doesn't matter how much you drag, they're as locked as can be.

"Y/N", she says disappointingly, walking towards you.

"Don't!" you shout and run past her, towards the living room.

You grab the TV remote and throw it towards one of the tall windows. The glass doesn't budge.

"It's not cheap glass", Hedwig says behind you. "You won't be able to break it."

"Let me go, you psycho", you hiss and turn around.

She stands with her hands behind her back and watches you carefully.

"Please stop trying to get out, it won't work", she says. "Even if you get out of the house, you won't get out of the garden. Please stop before you hurt yourself." She takes a step forward. "If you just accept your fate you will be happy. I won't hurt you. I will worship you."

"I don't fucking need that. I don't need you."

You can see that it shatters something in her. She stumbles back a step and gulps.

"Don't say that … please", she says weakly, tears entering her eyes as she shakes her head. "You're just scared. I understand. I don't mean to scare you, but-"

"I'm leaving. Open the front door."

"No! No, you can't!"

You push past her and storm towards the front door. You turn around to tell her to hurry up, but you're met with her holding a knife in her trembling hands. The very hands she hid behind her back. You flinch.

“I want you to go upstairs”, she sniffles and nods at the staircase to your right. “I want to change your clothes a-and tuck you in.” She wipes her runny nose with her white sleeve. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You glance at the knife, at the locked door and at the staircase. Slowly, you move up the marble stairs, head spinning. You’re not angry anymore … only terrified. Hedwig isn’t just annoying … she’s insane.

[the-kr8tor]

Saw your requests open and decided to pop in real quick!

So, I found this video on tiktok https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrkqnBQj/ could you write a Hobie x nb!reader oneshot with that, please? 😆🙏

Hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie brown x nb! Reader/ Spider-Punk x nb! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You haul the shopping bags over your shoulder, it's heavy and weighty in your hands. The canned goods and rice weigh you the most down. At least it's cool outside the grocery once the automatic doors open for you. And yet, you stop in your tracks the second your eyes land on Hobie and the kitten you fostered a few weeks ago. You didn't see her at first, but the second she pokes her cute head out, you almost burst into tears.

“Oh,” you can't help but coo from your position.

Hobie has stayed outside on the bench since they didn't allow the cat inside. They're under some shade and accompanied by a mini fan that Hobie brings above his head and towards the kitten laying atop his hair. Crumpet, you've lovingly named her, has situated herself on Hobie's hair, soft fur against his soft hair, tubby orange against dark locks. Her eyes are fully closed, tiny fluffy head resting upon his hairline. She's a picture of someone absolutely spoiled. You swear you could hear Crumpet purr from where you are.

You beam at them, footsteps quick as you get closer to the pair. “H-how? What?!”

Hobie shrugs, finding amusement in your reaction. He wishes he has a camera right now to capture the moment. “She just climbed on my shoulder and screamed in my bloody ear until I lifted her up on my head.”

“She did?” Cuteness overload has taken over your body. Grocery forgotten on the ground, you instinctively take your phone from your jean pocket, and then taking a hundred snapshots of them both in every conceivable angle. “That's the most adorable thing in whole fucking world! I wanna smooch her face off but I don't want to wake her up.” You groan from the cuteness, fists shaking from the sheer volume of adorableness in front of you.

“I'd take those smooches.” Hobie says, neck straight like a statue and frozen ever since Crumpet climbed up on his head. You move in-between his legs, to which he happily lets you in, slim fingers tugging you closer by your belt loop.

You chuckle, ducking your head down to cradle his face, giving him a chaste but a much needed kiss. “There, I'm going to give you and Crumpet so many goddamn kisses you'd beg for respite.”

Hobie realizes that the kitten isn't the only thing that has given you cuteness aggression. He grins up at you, hand slowly reaching for your own without disturbing the relaxed cat on top of him. “You won't hear any beggin’ from me, love.”

“Good,” you smile against another quick kiss. Leaning away, you pick at a stray kitten fur from his cheeks, blowing it away from him while he rubs lovingly at your wrists. “Let me guess, a few people have noticed and have taken pictures.”

Crumpet yawns above him, stirring but continuing to sleep in the coziest bed. Even though at home she likes to sleep inside discarded boxes despite the expensive bed you've bought for her. Her ear twitches, tail curling around herself, and you almost melted from the small movement.

Hobie flicks your side to get your attention, chuckling at how your eyes are practically glossing over from how cute the kitten is. “A few? Try a couple dozen of ‘em.”

You inhale, desperately trying to compose yourself but you still want to coo and and bite something, anything to quell the emotion. Sliding your hands down to his shoulder, you coax him up from the bench. “We gotta go home then.”

“Don't like sharin’?” He teases, standing up but still keeping his neck frozen like a statue, a hard task in itself.

You giggle, “yep! I like my baby and my other baby kept to myself, thank you very much.”

Hobie squeezes your nose, shaking your head. He thinks that he has caught your cuteness aggression, but for you this time. “Let's go home then, or we might end up on Ellen or some shit.”

[kasagia]

The last time

Pairing: William "Billy" Russo x fem! reader Summary: You're done being the less important one. The one who always had to conform to the big asshole and playboy Mr. Billy Goddamn Russo. And this time you really promised yourself that it's over... but is it? Wairning(s): Billy is toxic, but he loves the reader; the reader loves Billy, but everyone is fucked up; fight; swearing; blood; the reader is a doctor; the reader and Billy argue, but both cannot live without each other; violence; weapon; Inspired by: Taylor Swift - The Last Time (Feat. Gary Lightbody) Nonsense from me: I'm so happy I was able to write this in this week. I hope you like it. 💙🖤 P.S. The next oneshot will be with Darkling (Would've, Could've, Should've), but I don't know when I'll be able to write it. 😅 Word count: 6,5k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

Find myself at your door Just like all those times before I'm not sure how I got there All roads, they lead me here

When you opened the door, you didn't expect that instead of finding the pizza delivery guy, you would find Billy Russo... or rather, what was left of him.

The hood over his head and his slightly lowered head were unable to hide the scars on his face. You notice that over time they have become... less visible... at least not as angry red as they were in the media after they published the fugitive's photo.

Yeah. You saw the news. (And talked to Maria.) You know what happened.

Maybe you didn't want to deal with a man who had broken your heart many times over the years, but you couldn't just pretend he didn't exist.

His face, his name, even that stupid nickname, Jigsaw, were everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, on the internet, in your old photo albums and even in your fucking dreams. And now he was standing in front of you. The shell that remains of a one and only Billy Russo.

"May I... may I come in?" he whispered, staring at you uncertainly. You promised yourself that you would slam the door on that scarred face when he came to you... but in your toughts he was more... arrogant... just like he used to be.

"I... I'm not sure." the words come out of you as you look at him, trying to recover from the shock. You thought seeing him in person wouldn't do anything to you. How stupid you were...

"Please... I just want to talk to you. Give me five minutes and then you can sand me back to hell."

You bite your lip. You saw on the news that the Punisher and Jigsaw had teamed up... if Frank could forgive him enough to work with him and let him near Maria and the kids, you could give him that five damn minutes, before you try to kick his ass.

"Only five minutes, Russo." you say as you let him in.

Closing the door behind him, you wonder how far you've fallen by letting him back into your home… but from the way he looks around your place hesitantly, avoiding looking at you, you wonder who's really lost their dignity here.

I imagine you are home In your room, all alone And you open your eyes into mine And everything feels better

"You... you look beautiful." he says as he finally looks at you for the first time since your… rather tumultuous breakup.

"You wanted to talk." you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the dresser and stare intently at the man sitting on your couch.

"I… wanted to come to you after… all this shit. I… I could have lost my fucking memories somehow, but I think you've embedded yourself in my brain more than anything else. I went to your apartment, but you moved away." he admits, avoiding your heavy gaze to stare at the coffee table. You see a sad smile on his face as he stares at the pile of books and papers that were almost always present in any available space in your apartment. Some things don't change.

"I did." you say, closing some of your patient files from him so he can't analyse where exactly you work after you quit your job at Anvil as their private doctor. You collect papers and put them on your desk, turning your back to him. "Some people would get the hint. Did Frank throw out what was left of your brain by smashing your head against a mirror?"

You know it's a low move on your part, but you can't resist making him suffer. And by the way you suddenly feel his warm body behind you, you know that turning your back on your former marine and murderous ex wasn't such a smart idea. You swallow and turn around, crossing your arms to stare defiantly at him.

He is angry. You see it in his eyes. For some strange reason, instead of throwing you against the wall, he decides to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths.

And the part of you that still cares about him reminds you that he never laid a finger on you. Screaming, shouting, verbal threats were options. However, he never lost his temper enough to actually try to hurt you... but maybe you should stop testing your luck after all?

"Well... I... I think he finally put something into my empty head." you shift your puzzled gaze to him. You thought Frankie and Billy would go back to fighting like vicious dogs, trying to kill each other. Apparently, things have changed more than you originally expected.

"And here I thought that no one would be able to get through your thick skull."

"I'm going to therapy." he blurts out. You frown. Well, this wasn't at all what you expected when you saw Billy again. "To… sort it all out." he says, not breaking eye contact with you.

"Well… good for you. But I assume you didn't come here just to brag about it."

Billy shakes his head and takes a step towards you, watching your reaction. You tense up, but then relax as your body subconsciously takes in the scent of his perfume, which after all reminds you of (ironically) safety.

"No. I don't. I... I'm here to ask you if..."

"Stop it. Whatever you are about to ask me, my answer is no. I don't want to have anything to do with you." you interrupt him before he makes any suggestions for you to consider. "Not after what you did to me, to Frankie, to Castles. I'm glad you're on the mend, but I don't want to know you, Russo."

"Y/N, please..." he sighs pleadingly and reaches up to cup your cheek. You grab his hand before you can feel his fingers on you in a tender gesture that so often melted your heart for him.

"DON'T... just leave. Do one damn thing for someone else's sake and just leave. Let me be as I was." you say, glaring at him and internally cursing yourself for the tremble in your voice.

Somehow you win this battle of hurt glances because the next thing you hear in the room after his heavy breathing is the door slamming as he leaves. You are left alone. You're shaking with the emotions that are flowing through you now. You put your hand to your mouth and cried quietly.

Billy fucking Russo always had to come and mess up your life like a damn master.

And right before your eyes I'm breaking, no past No reasons why Just you and me

You come back from your shift at the hospital to find Frankie sitting outside your apartment door.

"One more such trip to the past, and I swear I will take a dog from the shelter and threaten you with it. What do you want, Frank?" you ask, crossing your arms and glaring at the Punisher.

"Nice to see you too, Doc. Have you finally learned how to sew people up, or are you still torturing them?" he asks with a mischievous smile, standing up and walking over to you.

"It was only once in Afghanistan, and in my defence, you were squirming like a dog in a nettle. Besides, it's not my fault you fell on knives because you stumbled like an idiot after the action was over."

The man laughs and pulls you into a hug. "It's been too long. Too bad you fucking ran away from Russo all the way here, I hate coming back to this town. By the way, Maria and kids missed you too."

"I spoke to them just yesterday on Skype. Besides, somehow this distance doesn't stop you from harassing me. And not only you. Billy was here two weeks ago." you say, leading him into your apartment. You give him a stern look as he walk inside. He rolls his eyes at me but bends down and takes off his shoes before walking further in.

"I thought so. He's been looking like shit for two weeks. I'm sure he now consists of 70 percent alcohol. Lisa wondered if his corpse on the couch was starting to decompose enough for Maria to let her perform an autopsy on him." you smile at the mention of your goddaughter. That's your little girl.

"If you tell me you're here to stand up for him, I'll kick you out of my apartment. The idea of letting him be part of your family again after all this shit he has done is sick. You're a fucked-up man, Frankie."

"Y/N, it's not what it looks like."

"Frank damn it, he almost helped kill your family! If I hadn't let Maria talk me into going with you that damn morning to the Central Park and forgave him after seeing those fucking eyes of a broken puppy, he probably wouldn't have lifted a finger to save Maria, kids and you!"

"I thought so too, so I shattered up his face, and we did a lot of shitty, sick things to each other, but believe me, it's not that simple. This fucking mess around us... is partly his fault, but not in the way we first assumed. He's still my brother… he's still our Bill."

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were fed up with it all. All this drama that's going on around Russo. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been better if they'd never called you in to stitch up that damn Marine and you'd never met him...

"I don't care, Frank. He hurt you. For money. He can go and keep selling himself like a whore." you say bitterly and walk past the man standing in the middle of your living room. You go to the bar and pour yourself a glass of something stronger.

"You can't be serious."

"I fucking am, Castle." you reply dispassionately, drinking the alcohol in a gulp. You pour yourself another glass and sit on the couch, watching the conflicted man in front of you.

"Come on. It's you and Billy. You always came back to each other. After every shit, big fight and breakup. Like a damn Ross and Rachel."

"For the last time I'm telling you, stop fucking watching Friends with Lisa and Maria, it's our show. Besides, this isn't damn Friends or any soap opera, Frankie. Billy fucked up. Ultimately. Nothing will change that, so just fuck off or accept it. God! You're taking our breakup worse than that cold bastard." you laugh bitterly and finish your glass. You set it down on the coffee table with a bang and run a hand through your hair. No. You won't get drunk again because of that damn asshole.

"Bullshit. He's a mess… I've never seen him like this."

"Do I look like I care?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

"You fucking liar, you couldn't stop loving him overnights."

You don't answer right away. He was right. You couldn't stop loving someone who was so deeply embedded in your soul, who saw all of you and became a part of your heart so easily... but loving Billy hurt you more than staying away from him. And for once in your life, you just want to feel at peace and be somewhat happy. Even without Bill by your side.

"If you want something, you better fucking say it or get the hell out." you say, not looking at him as your attention is drawn to your hands instead of the man standing in front of you.

He sighs, tightening his grip on the chair. You see his white knuckles, and for a moment, you think he's going to break the back of the chair. He sighs suddenly and relaxes his muscles, staring at you with a less angry look.

"I need your help."

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

You imagined your reunion with everyone a little worse. Maria and the kids were in a safe house outside the city, but it was nice to meet the rest of your old friends (in the case of the murder of the last of Rawllins' men, but hey, people talk about different things, right?) And it was really nice... until Billy returned to the apartment.

As soon as his dark-brown irises met yours, an unpleasant, awkward silence fell in the living room. You felt not only his gaze but also the curious gazes of the others as they glanced between the two of you.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks, shooting an angry, betrayed look at Frankie.

"Don't worry. I'll be gone as soon as I make sure the Castles are out of any danger. I don't really feel like seeing your face too." you say, giving him a defiant look. You turn your head away from him and towards Micro as quickly as you can.

Billy had dark circles under his eyes, a paler face than usual, and obvious signs of sleep deprivation. You'd care if he was more than just a piece of trash who betrayed people close to him. Yet you still cared.

However, the man does not give up easily. He walks over to you, stands in front of you, and takes your chin in his hand to make you look at him. If you didn't know better, you'd think you saw pain in that son of a bitch's eyes.

"You don't have to look at me from the hiding place where we put Maria and the kids, so get your pretty ass out of here and don't cause us any more troubles than we already have."

"How dare you talk about them after what you did?!" you growl at him in anger, pushing his hand away and standing up to face him. "All the trouble we're having is because you're a selling-out motherfucker who betrayed the only people in this world who fucking cared about you!"

Billy clenches his fists and takes a step towards you, leaning towards you. You both breathe quickly, shooting each other hostile glances, waiting to see who will break away and attack first. The tension in the room is so great that you can almost feel sparks flying between you. Frank quickly steps between the two of you, gives Billy a stern look and turns to face you.

"Save the lovers' quarrel and make-up sex for later, okay? Billy, Y/N is coming with us. Y/N, you're not trying to kill Billy until we do what we have to do, and it's best not to argue with him at all. Same with you, Bill. Can you do it, or are you resentful young brats who will be at each other's throats after a breakup?" he says, looking between you two. You huff, crossing your arms and staring at Castle.

"And since when did you become such a responsible asshole, Frankie?" you ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Since we've been planning a glorious murder at those, who tried to kill my family." you sigh and nod. He is right. Killing these bastards is your priority. You can't let your feelings for that asshole who still manages to get under your skin somehow complicate your already difficult mission.

"Fine. Just keep him away from me." you growl in anger and walk past Billy, elbowing him as you go to get ready for your 'mission' with the boys.

And if you looked over your shoulder, you would see a dark brown irises staring longingly at your retreat towards the armoury silhouette.

You find yourself at my door And just like all those times before You wear your best apology But I was there to watch you leave And all the times I let you in Just for you to go again Disappear when you come back Everything is better

A ring at your door at 2 a.m. should make you suspicious.

You should pretend to sleep and finish studying for the last exam that separates you from your desired diploma. You promised yourself that after completing your specialisation, you would leave the army and move to a state hospital. You were fed up with gunshots all around you. For now, you were well on your way to shedding your soldier's uniform and permanently donning a doctor's coat.

You were one exam away from your dreams... and one Billy goddamn Russo who was standing outside your door.

Before you could close it in his face, the man stuck his shoe between the door and the frame. You curse under your breath and open them again to meet this hot damn asshole on your doorstep.

"You shouldn't open the door at this hour without checking who's behind it." he starts, resting his hand on the door as if to make sure you won't shut it in his face again. Only now do you notice his bag slung over his shoulder. He must have come here straight from the airport as soon as he landed.

"A lesson for the future. What do you want?" you ask dryly, crossing your arms. He looks at you tiredly and sighs. The hand that isn't holding the door is combing through his hair. Dog tags hang from his neck as he bows his head slightly before looking back into your eyes.

"Please... I just want to talk." he pleads, wearing his best apologetic, kicked puppy look.

"We have nothing to talk about. Can you let go of my door now? I have an important exam tomorrow; I need to get some sleep." he smiles slightly. Reluctantly, you feel your chest warm up at that damn cute smile.

"Knowing you, honey, you probably weren't even going to go to sleep, just keep revising the material."

"What are you doing here? There were no more sheets of paper in Afghanistan? The poor postman used to come here with a bag full of letters from you. I felt bad sending them back just because of him."

"So… you haven't read any?" he asks, swallowing and staring at you with those damn eyes you would kill for someday.

"Why? I broke up with you before I left the unit. I was just your sexy doctor, right? Or maybe I'm distorting your words? I'm almost sure that's what you called me while bragging to your colleagues in the unit that you fucked the coldest and most unapproachable bitch from the base."

"These same colleagues saw me rage and fall apart as I was getting my letters back from you. I was the one of us, who was there to watch you leave." he responds to your accusations, and the pain in his eyes almost convinces you to throw yourself into his arms. But luckily, you remember the nights you spent crying because of the asshole in front of you.

"And I was the one who overheard that everything between us was some kind of fucking adventure for the time being until you get to another woman." you growl angrily, trying to slam the door on him, but his hand on it prevents you from doing so. He pushes himself inside your apartment and pins you to the wall, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. Loud enough to have your neighbours hear that.

"It's not true… what was between us… it was the only real thing I ever had in my damn life." he says with a shaky voice and you see tears forming in his eyes. "Neither of us expected what was between us to turn into something more than a few-month fling, but here I am, flitting around without you like a moth searching for the fucking light after spending years in the darkness, which was my life without you. I care about you. More than anything. More than I want to admit, more than I would like. That damn much that I would travel halfway around the world for you, I will grovel at your feet just to be fucking close to you."

You let your tears flow freely as you listened to his confession. You know what the man in front of you has been through—what demons of his past pursued him at every turn. And maybe it's his words; maybe it's those damn, tearful eyes that allowed you to see his vulnerability, hidden for so many years; or maybe you just can't live without him either...

Anyway, you grab his dog tags and pull him towards you for a passionate, tearful kiss as both of you realise one terryfing truth... You need each other.

"This is the last time, Russo." you whisper against his lips as he guides you towards your bedroom, stripping you of your clothes.

And right before your eyes I'm aching, run fast Nowhere to hide Just you and me

"What the fuck are you thinking you are doing?" you ask him angrily as he drags you by your elbow away from the shooting.

Things have gone a bit south. Frank didn't anticipate how much support the group we were supposed to kill would get, and now they cut off your group, and now you were forced to work with Billy to get out of here and kill the people you had to. A very mad Billy Russo in his stupid mask.

"I'm saving your ass. Stay here. I'll take care of the rest." he says, letting go of your elbow as he looks around the room.

"There's no fucking option. You won't play my hero, Russo." you say, and reload your gun.

"You won't distract me. You're staying here. End of discussion." he walks up to you and tries to grab the gun out of your hand. You struggle with him and use the grip he taught you to push him away. After a while, you aim your gun at him. You see a hint of fear in his eyes. You shoot, killing the guy standing in the doorway behind him.

"I'm not you. I don't kill my people." you growl at him in anger and move past him to drag the dead man inside and close the door. Billy is grateful for his mask... at least you can't see his shocked, pained expression.

He pulls up a chair and starts rummaging through the flap of the ventilation duct. During this time, you take the gun and bullets from the corpse.

"I would never kill the Castles." he says, not looking at you as he continues to open the vent. "They are my family... just like you."

"You haven't been my family for a long time." you snort at his seemingly tender words. You shiver when he suddenly jumps from the chair and pins you to the wall. Even from behind his mask, you can see how hurt and furious he is.

He holds your arms tightly, almost in a bruising embrace, as he whispers from under his mask so quietly that you can barely hear his words and his voice shaking with emotion.

"Everything... I've ever done... I've done for you. For us."

"There are no us, Russo." You growl in anger and push his arms off of you. You go to the air vent, but he grabs you by the waist and pulls you towards him. You fight him, even going so far as to rip off his mask, but he still holds you in a tight hug, staring into your eyes.

"I fucking love you; do you understand?! With my entire pathetic existence. I know that now you only see me as a monster and that my face is disgusting, but I can't... I can't lose you. Not you. I can endure everything—insults, your hatred... just... please... please don't leave me." he whispers desperately, cupping your cheek in one hand and resting his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, feeling tears welling up in them. You can't count how many times you cried because of that bastard in front of you.

"You think I care about your scars? I don't give a damn about them. What's keeping me away from you is your ugly inside, Russo. You don't care about anyone suffering as long as you profit from it. I'm disgusted by your personality and by the fact that you were willing to sell out your best friend's family and all the people who cared about you for goddamn money and fame. And I hate you, because somehow, even after all you've done, I still care about your damn ass."

His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly as you let him kiss the tears off your face as you almost fell apart in his hands, which you've missed for so long.

“Y/N, my heart, I swear I would never, ever hurt them. You have to believe me. I wouldn't risk what we have… I wouldn't risk losing you after having no one to care about for my whole messed-up life.”

And you're inclined to believe him. You are willing to forget everything and just accept him back. But then you hear a faint beeping sound. You both freeze, staring at each other.

Billy works fast. Too fast for you. He pushes you into the vent and closes the hatch behind you before you can do anything. After a moment, a quiet explosion echoes from the room below you, masking your frantic scream of his name.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye (Eye, eye)

Billy was not a good man. He knew it. He had no reason. Life never spoiled him, and everything he worked for he had to tear out with his nails. He had no reason to be good. But what he was about to allow now would seal who he was forever. There would be no turning back. And he knew it the moment he joined Castles in the Central Park.

He actually had nothing to lose. Y/N left him, and it would only be a matter of time before Frank would turn on him. He would be alone again. At least he would have guaranteed his future... however empty it might be. But he always believed that it was better to be depressed in an expensive sports car than anywhere else.

At least that's what he thought until he saw Y/N again, for the first time since their next big (this time final, which he deeply believed) breakup. And God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than ever.

She was wearing that little black floral dress that he loved, and she was joking about something with little Lisa as she dragged her through Central Park and the stands. Little Castle led her towards him.

Quiet: "Don't fuck it up, Uncle Bill." came from Frank Jr.'s mouth, before the kid disappeared, likely going to his father, who was probably already watching him. A young boy had to stop using such words. Maria would have his and Frank's heads for it.

Billy's eyes met yours. He gulped, watching as you walked up to him, and Lisa disappeared, probably going to the hideout where her parents were, watching him and Y/N. He clears his throat as you stand in front of him and gives you one of his practiced smirks... though he doubts he's acting as confident as he should be.

"Hi." he says quietly, staring at your face. His stupid heart beats like crazy as he completely forgot everything that wasn't you.

"Hi." you reply, playing with one of the rings on your finger—a nervous habit that he has despised since he felt the need to put HIS ring on you that you can play with and twirl on your finger when you feel insecure. "It was a long time."

"Indeed." he agrees and puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "You look beautiful, how are you?" he asks, as if he didn't have people positioned around you, to keep you safe and out of his troubles... the daily update about your life was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind after... losing you.

"All right. I got this job at the hospital." he knows. He himself made a transfer to the account of the hospital's head so that he would employ you there. Still, a smile appears on his face at the excitement in your eyes.

"I told you it was only a matter of time. You are the best surgeon in the USA."

"Well, I doubt Frank would agree with that." you laugh, and he can't help but join you. Frank was your test subject. A very grumpy test subject. Billy could never complain about being a little too strict or stitching it up too quickly at your beginnings. You were just perfect in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him, he is just a brat." he says, nudging your shoulder gently with his. And suddenly, you both stare at each other. You both linger on the other's lips for a moment longer.

"I missed you, Bill." you admit and his heart starts beating wildly.

He swallowed. No. He can't drag you into his shit. You would be better off without him... but as you stood in front of him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours that he would do anything for, he knew he had lost. And much sooner than he realised it.

He pulls you into his embrace. And when you wrap your arms around him, when you snuggle into his chest, and he inhales your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he knows he's home. He knows that he wants to feel this way forever and that life without you simply makes no sense to him anymore. And if he were anyone else, if he hadn't gone through all this shit in his life, he would have cried right there.

Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest, almost digging his fingers into your back, and whispers softly, his eyes closed tightly:

"This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore." he kisses your head, sealing his promise. He will burn the world for you. And nothing will stop him.

And as you sit next to him on the bench, across from the Castles, who are teasing you about how you two can't live without each other, he just smiles and texts his people to call off the action. Unbeknownst to you all, he declares war on Rollins, writing to him: "No one hurts my family. That's the end of the deal."

This is the last time you tell me I've got it wrong This is the last time I say it's been you all along This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho Oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho, oh-ho

You've been holding his hand since you returned to the Castles' house after his doctors examined him and patched him up. They didn't let you get to him. Something about an emotional attachment would cloud your judgement as a doctor. Stupid bullshit, but there was nothing you could do against Frank's strong grip as he held you in the hallway until you were allowed to carry him home. You're sure Castle had scratches from your nails when you tried to get away to go to Billy.

You shiver when Frank suddenly enters the room and hands you cup of tea. You take it from him without a word with one hand, and with the other, you still hold Billy, waiting for him to wake up. Frank snorts and sits down in the chair next to you, watching you closely.

"He'll get through this. Fortunately, he didn't set himself on fire, he just crashed into the opposite wall." you shiver, ignoring his words as you sip your tea. "Although I doubt he'll have any luck next time if you dump him again. Who knows what he'll do next time just for you to hold his hand."

"What the hell are you talking about?" you ask angrily, shifting your outraged gaze to him. He just shrugs.

"Do you think he let me give him those scars just like that? This is some form of his twisted compensation or punishment. The fact that he was hoping you would magically come get him and patch him up only encouraged him more to stay still as I smashed his face."

"You're fucked up. Both of you. No normal people would come back to being friends after something like that."

"We're all fucked up. Me, because I still see him as a brother. He, because he still wants to be part of my family. And you, who love him despite everything, but leave him at every possible opportunity." you turn your gaze away from him to Billy. He is right. And that hurts the most.

"Every time I promise myself it will be the last time. That I will never go back to him. That this is the last time he breaks my heart without even blinking. One last time I let him back into my life, but I… I just can't, Frankie… I can't leave him, no matter how much he destroys me."

"He thinks he's not worthy of you. That you deserve better." you huff bitterly, shaking your head, trying to fight away the tears.

"There is nothing for me apart from him." you whisper, staring blankly at your linked hands with Billy's. "Not after everything I've been through with him."

"Then stick with it. It's better to be fucked up together." you are laughing. It's not that simple, it never was… or maybe it was you who didn't want to make it such a simple thing.

"You should go to Maria and the kids." you say, wanting to get rid of him. You don't know what you feel. All you know is that you won't leave this room until those dark brown irises look back at you again.

"Will you stay with him?" he asks, and from the heavy atmosphere in the room, you feel like this question means more. He asks if you will stay forever. You lift your hand and gently run through Billy's short hair, observing what happened to him after the two of you were apart... and in fact, you weren't holding up any better than he was.

"Yes... yes I will." you whisper, never taking your eyes off his face. And you feel like something heavy has fallen off your chest. Months of crying, anxiety and apathy passed with the snap of a finger.

"I want to be godfather to your first. And for him to have Frankie as his second name if it's a boy."

"Fuck you, Castle." you say and throw a spare pillow at him. The man laughs as he leaves. He closes the door behind him and you look at the unconscious Billy.

"This is the last time, Russo. I mean that. Don't fuck it up." you whisper and kiss your joined hands.

This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye This is the last time I'm asking you this (This is the last time I'm asking you this) Put my name at the top of your list (Put my name at the top of your list) This is the last time I'm asking you why (This is the last time I'm asking you why) You break my heart in the blink of an eye (You break my heart) This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this This is the last time I'm asking you, last time I'm asking you Last time I'm asking you this

The gentle brushing of your hair is the first thing you feel when you wake up. Another is his tight grip on your hands, as if he's afraid you're just a product of his head high on painkillers. You raise your head slowly. His hand slips from your hair and rests hesitantly on your cheek.

"Hello." he whispers, staring at you. And for a moment, you just stay like that, each drinking in the sight of the other.

And your heart breaks when you see him waiting for the moment when you start screaming at him, when you take away the closeness he missed so much.

So against your better judgement and what you should do, you lean in and kiss him sweetly, cupping his cheek in your hand. You caress one of his worst scars with the pad of your thumb as he responds to your kiss. His hands stay stiffly in place as he's afraid to move, lest he disturb this moment between you, to feel your lips as long as possible.

You pull away from him and rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes, catching your breath. You feel his burning, confused gaze on you, but you don't move. You don't say anything. You just sit there, enjoying his touch and his closeness, not thinking about the conversation you need to have.

"I missed… I missed this." he whispers shakily. You feel him burning with the desire to taste your lips one more time, but he maintains some semblance of control and settles for just moving the hand that isn't cupping your cheek to your waist.

"Me too."

"I know I screwed up. But… I will never… never again…" you kiss him again, interrupting him. You brush away the tears that fall down his cheek with your thumbs and gently brush your nose against his as you end your kiss.

"Shhh... I know." you whisper, straddling him, needing to feel him as close to you as possible after everything that happened. You were both shattered, but maybe you could put each other back together?

"Are you sure?" he asks, swallowing. You nod and bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. He strokes your back slowly, drawing patterns with his fingertips under your blouse. You shiver at the feeling of his touch on your skin.

"This is the last time, Russo. Either we succeed or... it's over. And I mean it. There will be no great quarrels and returns, no appearances on the doorstep of the other at midnight. We'll either be honest with each other... and make it work... or we won't be together at all. You understand? We're at the top of each other's lists, or not at all. I don't want anything less, any toxic love, any blaming each other, and all that bullshit. We take each other and try to do something with us, or we end it."

He nods and pulls you closer to him, digging his fingers into your back, anchoring you to his chest.

"Deal. I hope you know, you just stuck with me forever, because I'm not leaving you." you lift yourself gently from his chest to look at him. Your eyes water as your eyes meet and for the first time in a long time, you allow yourself to fully express your feelings to him.

"Just... don't make me ask you this again... don't hurt me. Please."

Billy pulls you into a tender kiss, showing you all the love and devotion he has for you. Trying with your actions to ensure that this time will be different, that you will never suffer because of him again, that you will never run away from each other again, that you will never watch the other one leave again.

"I'm nothing without you. Trust me. I tried to live without you and look how it ended." he jokes, and in any other situation you wouldn't find it funny, but now, fueled by the high of being with him again, you giggle stupidly into his neck. Billy smiles fondly and strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Break my heart again, and it will end worse for you. I have connections in the mortuary, Russo." he huffs, undeterred, and pulls you closer.

"Please. As if you didn't fly across two states just to stitch my face together because you didn't believe in the competence of the doctors at the hospital." you blush as you realizes that he knew about your moment of weakness after you found out what happened to him after his fight with Frank.

"How did you know?"

"I'd know your stitches anywhere." he says with a shrug and pulls you in for a kiss.

Maybe this really was the last time after all… and this time you will stitch the scattered pieces of both of you together for good.

[gojuo]

Gojo has his head. In season 2 he tells toji he failed to kill him because he didn't cut off his head. Sukuna didn't cut off his head. He can still heal his body.

Plus we see Nanami tell gojo that there are two paths. One to change you or one to stay who you are. Gojo says goodbye to his dead friends and we see him walk away showing he's taking the second path. We also see a lotus then.

Which symbols strength and renewal.

Gojo is not dying. He may be gone a few chapters but everything his hunting he will heal his body and be back.

Gojo will live.

i wish i had your hopium but i gotta correct a few things here ... 1) it was said by i think kashimo (i dont even remember) that cursed energy comes from the gut, and gojo has been split into two from his stomach. toji never bisected him, even if he managed to stab him through the cranium. 2) gojo didn't say goodbye to his friends in the afterlife, that was a mistranslation. 3) he's not walking away from anything either ?? 4) the chapter title is called "going south" bruh...

listen. i so badly want him to come back. i really fucking do. i read jjk 0 when it came out in jump giga in 2017 and when it wasn't called jjk yet (it was called tokyo metropolitan curse technical school btw). i've been with gojo since mfing 2017... 2017!!! i've loved him for over 6 years now i can't even believe it's been so long.. i never expected that silly oneshot manga to become this popular 🥹 kinda makes me happy how loved jjk is currently :')))) but the fact of the matter is that gege has stated numerous times that he wants to finish jjk soon. he actually stated in late 2022 that he was planning on finishing it in 2023. gege's editor has come out and said that the manga will not be ending this year though, so my guess is somewhere around spring 2024 everything will be wrapped and and be donezo so that gege can move on to that goddamn idol manga he's been yapping about for a while now. so what am i trying to say with this tangent? i'm saying that jjk is ending soon and that gege has stated multiple times how difficult it was for him to write around the powerhouse that is gojo (which is just an admission of his own shitty writing/planning because mf YOU 🫵 are the writer like you are the one that created him!!! learn how to plan out your story and how to utilize the characters you yourself have created for it you stupid fucking cat i swear to god....). this all just screams to me that it's over. it's finished. gojo already died once and came back enlightened, he's not gonna have it a second time. not this close to the end. not after having been removed from the narrative for over a hundred chapters. not after seeing sukuna back at full health in his heian era form, something gege didn't even have gojo force out of him. like gege really got him out of the box so that he could be done with him unarguably and conclude his character arc because he wants to finish jjk.

gojo is dead, nobara is for sure dead, megumi is basically done for (we'll see him once more within the mind once yuuji does his soul cursed technique whatever bullshit on sukuna to have a talk but he's not coming back no more), and yuuji, the kid whose execution started this story, will be the only one left alive. gege said in an interview a while ago that he wanted to end jjk with either 1 of the main 4 dead, or only 1 of the main 4 alive. i think it's pretty obvious that person is supposed to be yuuji. "die surrounded by your friends" from the first chapter is going to turn into "all your dead friends will surround you". i am wholeheartedly convinced of this. i'm sorry, but after 3 years of having to sit through that worthless culling game arc leading to absolutely nowhere for our heroes, after realizing that there will never be a pay off for the last 100+ chapters because the whole point of the arc is now fucking dead just like that, i do not have it in me to have any faith nor hope in gege's writing skills. it's become painfully clear to me how mid that guy is at writing and how hard he is rushing towards the end. i have lost all faith and goodwill i used to hold for gege.

[alilbitlesbian]

YOU UPDATED ANOTHER CHAPTER OF GODDAMNED MONSTER FUCKERS?! I FUCING LOVE THAT FIC.

Screaming crying throwing up thoughts prayers sorrows horrors. I fucking breathe that fic, it's the only one brave enough to keep the couple together /j. Sometimes you wanna fuck the monster and his monsterfucker y'know? Anyways I read on ao3 but I saw your post in the Zelda tag and got excited. It's midnight here sorry if I come off too strong so suddenly, I really love your work and I needed to word vomit my feelingddssss

oh my god dw abb coming off too strong writers LOVE this shit

its me, i'm writers ♥

Is there really no others STILL? i know mine was the first on the market but like, I'm surprised there's no more??? Screaming, crying.

Thank you so much for reading !! I tend to keep all my asks in my inbox so I can look at them forever but this much feral energy makes me so happy and deserves a shoutout.

I'm also SUPER excited for the next few chapters, there's gonna be some cryptid shit and im so excited to write bone-chilling wEiRd HaPpEnInGs around the castle.

I'm also cooking up some oneshots for the joy of more fluff, maybe a ficlet on the molduga attack since I fully forgot that was even a thing lmao.

If you ever have any suggestions/oneshots you want to see then feel free to shoot a dm or an ask, I'm a monster who hoards fics (finished) and WIPS (usually nearly finished) in my google docs so there's a fair chance I've already written it in my.. *checks notes* 73 zelda fics, and am happy to write new stuff all the time (when I can find the time).

anyways thanks for the ask and hope you like the next chapter. It should release soon (It's like 20% done). AlsO TO ANY OTHER READERS: I HAVE A BETA NOW, DONE ARE THE DAYS OF ME EDITING CHAPTERS LIKE 20 TIMES! ITS GONNA BE LIKE 10 TIMES INSTEAD.

thank my new pal Khatjia for being willing to go through my writing ♥

[zannolin]

weekly writing update is back bc i actually wrote this week GODBLESS. tidbits below the cut :)

nothing finished this week as ye olde ao3 subs can tell but! writing happened. i have continued to truck along on the c!crime star trek au. it's over 6k i simply refuse to abandon it. i WILL finish this goddamn fic if it kills me and it just might. have a highlight!

“How long will it take?” Tommy asks. “Until he can—uh, sleep properly, I guess?”

“As long as his body needs,” Ponk admits. “It’s different for everyone.” “Right,” says Tommy, and tries to be okay with not having any useful answers to go on. He’s not used to uncertainty, not accustomed to not knowing what’s happening with his brother at least on some level. When he lost Wilbur, it felt like losing a limb, like something was punched out of him and left a gaping hole in its wake, and now he’s been handed it back but can’t puzzle himself back together again. What once was familiar is now foreign, and Tommy is struggling to come to terms with that particular revelation.

He doesn’t want to admit that it feels like a losing battle most days.

i alsoooo did a little bit of work on the next chapter of split ends which i was sort of taking a break from because school and various brain-being-a-toddler-and-having-a-meltdown moments about "oh no, what if i'm writing mia and ethan Wrong" but we're sort of back in business now!

She’s not blind. She can see the way he holds his left wrist gingerly, rubs at the gauze wrapped around it like it pains him. It probably still does. Mia’s never exactly had a limb taken off and put back on, but if there’s one thing she remembers well about Dulvey, it’s that dying fucking hurt. The Mold didn’t make injuries any less painful in the end. It made them easier to overcome, sure, but there was always the point where the high, where Eveline’s influence, wore off, and the agony would slam into Mia like a wall.

She can’t imagine what it must have been like for Ethan, not even after living trapped on that ranch for three years. And it’s her fault he ever had to go through that in the first place.

i've been working on my short story for my fiction writing class as well which i cannot share here but i'm very happy with the concept :) it will later become probably a cleon fic and an sbi fic. i'm winding down on the sbi stuff lately but this one works very well so i'm excited to finish it and get to share it once the semester is over for me.

also been doing a lot of plotting and drabbling for various cleon, mithan, and RE genfics so here's some highlights from the notes doc:

She says: every day I see more of your father in you. She doesn’t say: I’m glad I don’t see myself.

and:

Why don’t you hate me? She asks. He says, I love you. She says, That isn’t an answer. What she means is, love is not the absence of hate, or even the opposite. He says: I don’t want to hate you. She does not say, sometimes, I wish you did.

got a looooot of fic ideas knocking around and i haven't quite nailed down what i want to work on next, but i think once this damn star trek au is done i might take some time to work on a leon & ashley oneshot and finish chapter 3 of split ends. those seem to be the priorities at the moment but on god. SO MANY AUS. it's unreal. maybe we'll do the ask game where i tell you about my random aus again lol.

[pedrito-friskito]

sunshine on a cloudy day - chapter 9

summary: you and frankie take a big step, and truly, anything can happen.

warnings: nothing explicit, a few allusions to sexual acts, a lot of fluff, frankie has feelings, mentions of pregnancy (see below pls)

a/n: okay I thought long and hard about this chapter. I’ve had this story plotted out since the beginning, and since Frankie flat out mentions in the movie ”I’ve got the new baby now” it didn’t make much sense to me from a literary/fic-writing point of view not to include it. that being said, everything that’s been happening in the states with the overturning of roe vs. wade is despicable in every sense of the word. but, coupled with Pedro’s outright support of the uterus-having folk, I think I did it justice. okaythanksbye

another note - I’m doing things a bit differently now! I’m only working on one series at a time (with oneshots mixed in of course lmfao) so sunshine will have more chapters up most likely this week! 💕

| series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 |

Yet again, life becomes its own brand of normal. For a while.

Benny is back in your life full-force, an almost permanent fixture on your couch. Friday night game night resumes, combinations of the boys and their ladies making appearances when they can. Everything is right in the world once more, and when your house is filled with the guys’ hooting and hollering at the TV all night, your fridge full of beer and your kitchen full of pizza or wings or whatever everyone had agreed on that night, you’ve never felt more at ease.

Ben stays over most Friday nights, hollering his goodnights after he’s helped you or Frankie clean up after the game and you’re wandering off to bed. It’s nice, at first, having your best friend in the house. But it makes your late night activities a little more…quiet.

After a few months, Benny finally finds a girl that seems to capture attention entirely, and before you know it, your couch is empty after everyone leaves on Friday nights, leaving you and Frankie alone in the house. Which means you can be as loud as you want.

“I love Ben, believe me,” he grumbles to you one night, after everyone has departed, slinking up behind you in the bathroom and snaking his arms around your waist, one hand diving beneath your skirt, “but I love hearing the noises you make more.”

You smirk at him in the mirror, leaning your head back on his shoulder, sighing and letting your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your neck. “You telling me you don’t like putting your hand over my mouth just a little?” You cant your hip back against him and he hisses. “Cuz I think you do, Fish.”

“Only sometimes,” he admits, teeth sinking in to your skin, “but goddamn, querida, you make the sweetest noises I’ve ever heard.

Needless to say neither of you keep your mouths shut that night.

+

You’re putting away laundry, the most exciting of Sunday evening tasks, and Frankie is intent on staying close to you. First, he took a shower, then he was reading a book sprawled on the mattress, then he’d paced the room for twenty minutes like a nervous child until you’d raised a brow and asked him what the fuck was going on.

It had taken him another ten minutes to get the words out, but when he did…

He asked you to move in with him.

You’d dropped the shirt in your hand, eyes going wide and he’d stepped towards you instantly, wrapping his hands around your elbow. “You don’t have to say anything right now, querida, but just think about it, hmm?”

“I am thinking about it, Fish,” you’d said, unable to stop the corner of your mouth from quirking into a grin. “I have been thinking about it.”

Frankie’s never given you such a beautiful smile.

“Go sit down,” you’d laughed, pushing at his shoulder, squealing when he leaned in and pressed a ticklish kiss to your cheek. “I have laundry to put away.”

The pile of laundry is a good split between your clothes and his, and you start digging through the fabric, looking for: “My black pencil skirt, the one with the little slit? Have you seen it, Fish?”

He’s still got that same beautiful grin on his face, having retreated to his side of the bed. “I know exactly where it is, sunshine.” He flops forward on the bed, propped up on his elbows, grinning.

You keep digging, raising a brow at him. “Well, are you gonna tell me, or…?”

“It’s at my place, on your side of my closet,” he answers, pushing his chin into his hand. “You have a side of my closet, querida, and a drawer in my dresser and a shelf in my bathroom. Move in with me, please.”

There are butterflies in your stomach, and you reach out to knock his hat from his head. He just grins, keeps talking.

“I’m just saying, mariposa, it makes sense. You spend most of your time there anyway, it’s closer to work for you, and I have more space than you do.”

“I have the beach in my backyard, Francisco,” you counter. You’re beaming, at this point, half heartedly folding his t-shirts as he watches. He wants you to move in with him. He loves you that much that he wants to share his space, his life, with you more than he already does.

“Okay, fine,” he shrugs, reaching out with the hand not holding his chin to pull on your shorts until you step closer to him. He looks up at you, chocolatey eyes brighter and shinier than you’ve ever seen them, filled with excitement. “Then we find someplace else. Somewhere we both like. Bigger space, on the water, closer to the guys maybe. Whatever you want, cariño.”

You come to stand in front of him, abandoning the laundry completely, taking his face in your hands. His own curl around your thighs, palms skimming up the backs slowly. “Whatever I want, huh?”

Frankie nods in your grip. “Whatever you want, baby, I promise, as long as it’s me and you.”

Tears spark in your eyes at the words, and you lean down to kiss him softly, a giddy giggle escaping your throat as you do. Frankie grins against your lips, scrambling up onto his knees before he’s pulling you towards him so you both topple onto the bed, the laundry cushioning the blow. “Fish!”

“C’mon, sunshine, say yes.”

You’re both giggling now, Frankie’s arms around your waist, holding you atop him. You plant your hands on either side of his head. “Yes, Frankie. I’ll move in with you.”

+

Three months later, you’re moving into your own place. Together.

It’s good timing, in truth; your lease would have renewed two months after Frankie asked you to move in, and since Frankie’s landlord is a family friend, it was easy to get out of his rental with a bit of notice. There’s been a lot of culling of belongings, a good chunk of your closet donated to charity, and a heated discussion on who had the best couch before you’d decided to keep both. 

Moving day is easy; most of the guys have big pick-up trucks with lots of space, Frankie included, so it’s more of a weekend than a day, the trips alternated between Frankie’s place and yours, but by Sunday evening, every box and piece of furniture is in your new home, the guys had all said their goodnights after the beer and burger spread you’d prepared in thanks, and it’s just you and Frankie, in your new place. Your home.

Your home, which has three bedrooms.

It had been the selling point for Frankie, apparently. The master was bigger than both of your previous rooms, the closet a large walk-in space that had your jaw on the floor. He had plans to turn one of the other bedrooms into an office for you, somewhere to keep all your teaching things in one place. And for the last one?

Frankie’s response, with a shit-eating grin on his face when you asked: “Who knows? Anything could happen.”

Standing in the bathroom the morning of the house-warming-slash-welcome-home-Santi barbecue you’d been planning with Emily, anything did happen.

You stand in the bathroom for a long time, hands hooked onto the counter, the six sticks you’ve peed on this morning all staring back at you.

Well, fuck.

Your head is a mess. You’ve never had the most regular cycle, sure, and you had chalked up missing a period to the stress of packing and moving, the additional hassle of the end of the school year adding to it as well. You were on birth control, but with the one you were talking, it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary to miss one. 

But then one turned into two, and two turned into three, and you had barely noticed with everything going on.

You’ve been in the new house for almost two weeks now, most of your things unpacked and a few trips to Costco and Walmart filling your cupboards with cleaning supplies and essentials. Out of habit, you’d grabbed tampons and pads, but stopped short, right there in the aisle.

When was the last time you’d used them?

You tried to count back in your head, pulled up the calendar on your phone to try and remember, but came up blank. Stress seeped into your stomach instantly, and you veered down the next aisle, silently grateful that Frankie had stayed home for that trip.

It was a miracle you’d been able to hide the boxes from him, distracting him with some new craft beer you found at the liquor store and instructing him to hang up little sticky hooks near the front door for your keys and his hats.

That was last night, and then this morning, the day you’re meant to host all of your closest friends — and your mother — you’d woken up with a roiling stomach. Frankie had already disappeared from bed, intent to get the backyard set up early so he could start prepping to barbecue, which gave you a bit of privacy to take the tests.

And every single one was positive.

You’re a mix of happy and scared and stressed and bewildered. This is a thing? Are you even qualified for this? Does Frankie want this? You love him, there’s no question of that, and having his babies is pretty high on your to-do list, but it’s not even a real conversation you’ve had yet. Does he want to be married first? He’s not exactly old-fashioned, but maybe that’s important to him. You’ve been together more than a year now, just moved into a place you share. He’s doing well at work, so are you; you’re both doing well with your therapy appointments, too. Things are good.

You remember the look in his eye when you’d come to look at the house the first time, the something extra glinting in his gaze when he said. “Anything could happen.”

Blinking hard, you hear the back door open, Frankie calling your name, and hastily sweep all the tests into one of the still mostly-empty drawers, hip-checking it shut and heading out into the bedroom. You busy yourself in the closet, pretending to decide on what to wear today when he jogs into the room, hat in place, sunglasses pushed up his nose.

You’re still in your pyjamas — panties and one of Frankie’s old t-shirts — and he comes up behind you in the closet, arms finding their rightful place around your waist. “Morning, sunshine,” he grins, kissing the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this is what you’re wearing.”

You scoff a laugh, sifting through the shirts hanging in front of you and reaching for a pair of jean shorts. “Did you forget my mother is coming today?”

Frankie stops short, straightening against you, and reaches for one of your t-shirts, black cotton with a little fish embroidered on it. “This one.” He kisses the side of your head. “Any idea where my tool kit is? One of the chairs is kinda busted and I wanna fix it before people start to show up.”

You sink into his embrace for a moment. Do you tell him? How do you do this? You want to tell him, but there’s already so much going on today. And besides, aren’t you supposed to do something fun? Buy him a t-shirt or a mug or actually have a doctor confirm it before you tell him? Your head is swimming.

“Mija?” Frankie calls, kissing your ear again, and you flinch a little, blinking hard. “Toolkit?”

“Sorry, Fish,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “I think it ended up in the shed out back.”

“I’ll check,” he replies, kissing you once more, this time on your neck. “You okay, baby? You seem a little faraway.”

“Huh?” you ask, mind already wandering once more. “Yeah, no, I’m fine, just thinking. Lots to do.”

Frankie just chuckles, leaning around you so he can kiss your mouth, and then he’s gone.

How the fuck are you going to tell him?

+

The barbecue goes off without a hitch, mostly.

Everyone shows up in the afternoon, as planned. There’s a potluck of food, everything spread out on tables in your backyard. There’s coolers full of beer and your mother provides multiple containers of homemade lemonade that has everyone losing their marbles and complimenting her until she’s red in the face. It’s nice, to see her out, to see your found family interacting with what’s left of the one you were born into. Plus, she remembers Benny and Will from when you were young, so there’s lots to talk about.

There’s a whole lot of chatter when Santiago finally shows up, Tom and Molly having picked him up from the airport just that morning. The guys are all overjoyed to have their final member back home, and the group of them all crowd around each other, beers in hand, catching up on what they’ve missed since Pope left — which was shortly after your fight with Benny.

Your mother wanders over to you when the boys break off to chat, Molly and Emily sharing a drink on the patio. “You all right, sweetheart?” she asks, reaching up to touch the back of her hand to your forehead. “You look a bit pale.”

“M’fine, Mama,” you tell her, sipping your lemonade and forcing a smile. “Just a little tired. Been a lot, with the move and all. But it’s good. You like the house?”

“I do,” she smiles, touching your cheek before rubbing your shoulder. “It’s perfect for you two.”

You open your mouth to say something — what, you’re not sure. Do you tell her first? God, why isn’t there a handbook for this shit? But before you can, you see Benny break off from the group, a pissed-off expression on his face, swigging his beer as he stalks towards the house. “I’ll be right back, Mama,” you tell her, and she just nods as you chase after Benny, who’s bee-lining to the back door. “Ben!”

You follow him inside and into the kitchen, closing the screen door behind you as he slams his beer on the counter, followed by his fist. “Fuck!”

“Easy!” you shout, reaching out and catching his hand before he can bring it down again. “I like my countertops the way they are, what the fuck is going on?”

Benny just stares at you for a moment, eyes watery and shiny, and you’re confused as anything. “Fuckin’ Pope’s got some bullshit job. Asking us all to go to South America for six fucking months — six months! — and then calls me a fucking coward for not wanting to go.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “Six months?” If Pope was telling all of them, that includes Frankie, and six months from now…

Fuck.

“You’re not a coward, Ben,” you say, shoving your thoughts aside, trying to be as soothing as possible, “and Pope knows that. You know how he is, he’s just trying to get under your skin, trying to get you to agree.”

“And it drives me fucking insane!” he shouts, palm slamming onto the counter, making his beer bottle rattle. “They all treat me like a fucking baby, but I’ve seen just as much as shit as they have!”

“I know that,” you tell him, catching his wrist, “and you know that. Please leave my countertop out of it.”

The joke seems to get through to him, because he laughs, slapping his other hand over his face as a grin breaks across his face. “God, I’m sorry, sunshine.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, keeping your fingers curled around his wrist, “just don’t break my countertop.”

You both dissolve into laughter after that, Benny pulling you into a big hug. “I am sorry, though. I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper back, hugging him tightly. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes, crawling up the back of your throat. You pull your head off his shoulder. “Fish, what did he…what did he say?”

“Dunno,” Ben says, shaking his head. “I didn’t stick around long enough to hear. But he didn’t look happy about it, I can tell you that much.”

You just nod, turning your head, looking out the kitchen window. You have a grassy backyard now, one that gives way to sand and then heads towards the beach. On the water, just like you wanted, just like Frankie promised. And there, standing in the surf, hands jammed in his pockets, is the man himself.

“Is everything all right, sunshine?” Ben asks, hands moving softly to your shoulders. “You look like you’re about to burst into tears.”

“M’fine,” you reply quickly, shaking your head, giving him the same forced smile you’d given Mama. “I just…I gotta go talk to Frankie.”

“Okay,” Ben replies, his voice wary. “If you say so.”

Before you can change your mind or say another word or spill your guts to Ben, you quickstep out the back door and head straight for the beach. The waves roar as you get closer, the sound covering your approach, because as you close in on Frankie, reaching out a hand and curling your fingers around his bicep, he flinches, turning towards you, the shock on his face melting into something else when he sees it’s you.

He pulls his hand from his pocket, loops his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side. “Hi, mariposa.”

“You look awfully thoughtful out here by yourself,” you say, your voice just above the sound of the ocean before you. You wrap both arms around his middle, locking your fingers together over his hip. “Everything okay?”

Frankie turns his head, presses his mouth to your hair. “Ben didn’t tell you?” He kisses your head. “I saw you run after him when he stormed off.”

“He told me,” you say, scrunching your toes in the sand as the waves lap up towards your ankles, covering your feet in bubbly water. “Six months down South.” When he doesn’t reply right away, you continue: “That’s a long time, Frankie.”

He nods against your head, making a little humming noise. “It’s a lot of money, querida,” he tells you, and slowly, his hand moves up and down your arm to your shoulder, finger pressing in slightly, toying with the sleeve of your t-shirt. “It could be good for us.”

Your heart sinks into your wet toes. He’s actually considering it. You can hear it in his voice, there’s a chance he might do this. And just like that, it all comes surging out of you.

“You can’t go, Fish,” you say, and you can hear the panic in your voice. Frankie nearly jumps, arm loosening around you so he can turn you towards him, reaching for you. His hands lift to your face, and you can feel hot tears rushing down your cheeks as you keep talking. “You can’t. I’m gonna need you six months from now, even more than I need you right now.”

His eyes are wide with confusion, brow furrowing as he wipes the tears from your face. “Cariño, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t go, Frankie, please.”

“Six months from now, what do you mean? Are you sick?” You can see the fear creep in now, his breath hitching a little. “What’s happening? Baby, tell me, please.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words falling out of you as another wave crashes against the sand. “Frankie, I’m pregnant.”

He just stares at you a long moment, mouth dropped open in surprise, hands still on your face. You can feel his fingers twitching against your cheeks, and you find yourself holding your breath. You can’t tell if he’s about to smile or frown, but then…

“We’re gonna have a baby?” he asks, and damn it all, if his whole face doesn’t just light up the like the Fourth of July. “You’re pregnant?” 

“You’re happy about this?” you ask, and his jaw drops further.

“Happy? Querida, I’m ecstatic!” He drops his arms around your waist, lifting you up out of the sand and against him, spinning in a circle before he sets you back on his feet and gives you a soft kiss. But then he stops, pulling back. “Wait. Are you…do you want this?” He puts one hand beneath your chin, knuckles under your jaw so you look up at him. “This is your call, baby, you know that, right? I’m happy, but only if you’re happy. Only if this is what you want. If you don’t, then I’ll do whatever I have to, drive to fucking Canada if we need to—”

You cut him off with a kiss, your heart swelling at his words. “I want this, Frankie. I want this with you.”

—————

frankie morales tags: @steadyasthe-flowers @iamskyereads @ancientbeing10 @woomen23 @plutoneu @pedropascalsx @allfoolsinluv @williamjzanders @winchestershiresauce @lunarpenumbra @bluestuesday @i-simp-much @itspdameronthings @trickstersp8 @kirsteng42 @lovesbiggerthanpride @beskarprincessjenny @loonymagizoologist @trinkets01 @mashomasho @greeneyedblondie44 @tanzthompson @fiscinthirst @mswarriorbabe80 @vickytogisa @dead-pool-simp @ruhro7 @thevoiceinyourheadx @littlemisspascal @mrssarahpaulsooonn @allthe-ships @fictionismyreality @mrsparknuts

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[babyboibucky]

White Noise

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has a new neighbor and she's even grumpier than him.

Word Count: 2,490

Warnings: TW!!! Domestic violence (not from Bucky, he’s a sweetheart in this 🥺)

A/N: I’d say I’m on a roll for writing new shit lately but I’ve got two ongoing series and a part 2 of a oneshot that I haven’t even updated for quite a while lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling before forcing them close again. He focused on the hard floor beneath him and the soft blanket tangled in between his limbs. His television was left open but with the volume at the lowest level. Bucky always slept this way, so that the white noise would help him ground himself whenever he would wake up from his nightmares.

A few minutes later, Bucky finally felt himself begin to doze off. A couple hours of uninterrupted sleep were good enough for him, at least he'd get some peace before his past would come back to haunt him.

Just as when Bucky was about to fall into a deep slumber, loud music began to boom through his walls, stirring him awake. He grunted as he sat up on the floor, turning around and staring at the wall separating his apartment from his neighbor. He didn't even know he had one until now. The music was loud, too loud that it wasn't even white noise anymore. It was just...noise. And as much as Bucky hated how silence triggered his self-destructive thoughts, this kind of noise wasn't something that he needed.

Bucky let a few more minutes pass just to see whether his neighbor would turn it down but then a new song started playing right after the first.

Grabbing his shirt, jacket and some sweatpants, Bucky quickly dressed up and headed out the door. He stood in front of his neighbor's door and could actually understand the lyrics of the song playing. It wasn't his enhanced hearing, the music was just that loud. His neighbor didn't even hear him knocking until he decided to use his vibranium arm to do so. Bucky had to hold back a bit in order not to break down the door at how hard he knocked on the door.

Mid-way through his knocking, the door finally opened and out his neighbor stepped-- you. Bucky frowned when you didn't even bother turning off your music when you opened the door.

"How can I help you?" you asked, your expression matching Bucky's.

Bucky scoffed, "I don't know, maybe turn down your music? It's like fuckin' two in the morning. You're not the only tenant in this building." he snapped.

"I can't sleep without music. And no one else has been complaining, just you." you said and was about to close the door right into Bucky's face.

Bucky was appalled at your rudeness and slotted his foot into your doorway before you could even slam the door shut.

"I just complained and you're not really going to do anything?" he asked.

"No. If other tenants can sleep through my music then so can you. Stop bitching around and leave me be." you huffed out and kicked his foot before closing the door with a loud thud.

Bucky blinked, unable to believe that you just did that. You actually kicked his foot and ignored his complaint. He knew that he was a bit harsh when asking you to turn down your music, but it was two in the morning! Why would you even blast music at such an ungodly hour? Bucky rubbed his face with his hand and headed back to his apartment.

He'll deal with you tomorrow. It wasn't like he was going to sleep through the entire night anyway.

-

And deal with you, Bucky did but it always ended the same. Bucky was surprised at how aggressive you were whenever he paid you a visit to complain. The first night he kind of understood your behavior, he wasn't the nicest then. But every single encounter he had with you after that, you were just borderline mean.

Bucky just arrived from having lunch out when he saw you unloading your car with a few more boxes. Over the past few days, he had learned that you were indeed new and just moved in a week ago. He also learned that the rest of tenants on his floor either slept like a fucking rock or had impaired hearing for them not to care about your music.

You struggled to carry all three boxes when you stacked them above each other. Bucky chuckled in amusement as he watched you attempt to carry them all twice. Obviously, you didn't want to do multiple trips but with the strength (or lack thereof) you were displaying, it would be an impossible task. Being the gentleman he was, Bucky decided to set aside his feud with you to offer his help.

"Let me help." he said as he approached you.

Your eyes softened up at him for a brief moment and Bucky thought that maybe you'd be kinder to him this time. Boy was he wrong because you immediately shot his offer down and ignored his presence.

"Look, I'm trying to be nice here. Just let me help so you wouldn't have to do multiple trips." he explained.

"I don't need anyone's help. How hard is that to understand?" you snapped and carried one box, brushing past Bucky to enter the building.

Bucky rolled his eyes and quickly grabbed your arm to stop you. He's had enough of your attitude and if you weren't going to even try to be nice to him, then he'd stop being the gentleman that he was.

"Why do you have to be such a little bitch?" For the first time, Bucky raised his voice at you.

He just wanted to confront you, not scare you so when you gasped out loud and dropped the box in your arms, Bucky's heart fell. Your eyes widened at him in fear, your hand quickly wrapping around the arm that Bucky grabbed. He realized that he had used his vibranium arm to grab you and was quick to regret it.

"Please don't touch me like that again." your voice was soft, almost a whisper and Bucky didn't expect for you to react like that.

He was expecting for you to yell at him, maybe even land a slap on his face. But instead, you shrinked and for the first time in a long time, Bucky saw someone look at him with fear like that. It was as if he was back to square one, back to the old version of him that he's been fighting so hard to forget.

-

It's been two days since the incident and Bucky still hadn't seen you around. He’s been wanting to apologize to you and patch things up. Your music still blasted through his walls so at least he knew that he didn't scare you enough to move away. Bucky's nightmares got worse and somehow, the incident with you was what violently shook him awake.

Bucky stared at his ceiling once again, his television turned off because he knew that you'd be playing your music out loud in a few. He was actually starting to get used to it and as much as he hated it, he often found himself singing along to the songs you had been playing.

Two am and there was still silence. Bucky laid on the floor as he waited for your music. Three minutes have passed and yet it remained quiet. Maybe you weren't home? Although he did see you from his balcony as you headed back inside the building after bringing your trash out earlier. Perhaps something else was keeping you busy? Why was Bucky even thinking about what you were doing? If any, he should be jumping at the opportunity to get some shuteye.

Bucky sighed and turned on the television like how he used to, turning the volume down and then closing his eyes in an attempt to fall asleep.

For a while, Bucky felt at peace for falling back to his routine before you moved in. Hushed whispers and soft cries caused Bucky to quickly sit up. He wasn't sure whether it was from the television or if his enhanced hearing was picking up something else. Bucky quickly turned off the television and sat in silence, closing his eyes to focus.

There was a loud thud coming from your apartment followed by a muffled sob. Bucky knew that something was wrong so he quickly dressed up and went to your apartment, knocking on the door continuously.

"Hey, it's me. Open up." Bucky called out and continued to knock when you didn't respond.

"Is everything okay in there?" he asked again, the silence from the other side of the door bothering him even more.

Bucky heard a few shuffles before he heard the door click. It slowly opened until you showed up, gaze downcast and hands trembling as you prevented the door from opening any further. Bucky couldn't even see through you at how you were blocking his view of your apartment.

"I'm fine. Just go." you softly said and attempted to close the door again.

Bucky frowned and held the edge of the door with his vibranium arm, stopping you from closing it and instead, pushing it open. You just allowed him to do that, something that confirmed Bucky's gut feeling that you were hiding something, or rather, someone.

"Man, just get the fuck out of here!" a guy exclaimed as he stood in the middle of your apartment.

Bucky was quick to notice the mess inside your apartment— clothes and chairs were strewn across the floor. His gaze went back to you and it was then that he saw the bruises on your arms and legs.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked worriedly.

You kept mum but saw the slow movement of your head, affirming his suspicions. The guy walked over to you and gripped your arm, violently pulling you behind him as he stood face to face with Bucky.

"It's none of your goddamn business." he threatened.

Bucky refused to look at the man and focused on you. He finally understood everything. Why you had been so aggressive towards him, why you reacted like that when he gripped your arm. You were afraid, not of him but because of what you were going through. This man had been abusing you and Bucky doesn't need to know for how long for him to understand your behavior.

"You just gonna fuckin' stand there or what?!" the guy asked, irritated at Bucky's presence.

"I think you should be the one to leave." Bucky said calmly, finally lifting his gaze to look at the man.

The man snickered, "Who the fuck are you to tell me that? You got the hots for my fuckin' girlfriend?" he asked.

"Leave her alone and never come back. I'll only ask you this once." Bucky warned, his jaw tightening as he stared at the man.

"Or else? You threatening me, man? You're gonna fucking regret it." the man chuckled before lifting his fist up to punch Bucky in the face.

Bucky rolled his eyes when he easily caught the man's fist in his vibranium arm, twisting it until the man looked at him in horror, screaming in pain. He let go of the man's fist and grabbed at the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer as he glared daggers at him.

"You are gonna fucking regret it if you come back here. If you ever lay a finger on her, so much as look at her...I'll find you. That's a promise." Bucky warned.

The guy was nearly in tears as he nodded in understanding, not trusting his voice. Bucky chuckled and dragged him out of your apartment, throwing him to the ground before pointing a gloved finger.

"You understand?" he asked again, snickering when the guy almost immediately scrambled away without even responding.

Bucky waited until the man was out of sight before quickly turning to you. You merely stood inside your apartment, body trembling as you hugged yourself.

"You okay?" Bucky asked gently, brows furrowing in worry as he slowly walked towards you.

He bent down to catch your gaze, "Can I...?" he asked, asking for your permission as he attempted to hold your shoulders.

You meekly nodded and heaved out a shaky sigh, composing yourself. Bucky held you carefully, rubbing your arms to soothe you after everything that has happened. You let him touch you like that because it was the first time in a long time that you received such gentleness. It almost moved you into tears, how Bucky held you with so much care.

"Come on, let's get you patched up." Bucky said and led you out of your apartment, not wanting you to stay there after being beaten up by your asshole of a boyfriend.

Bucky kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you into his almost empty apartment. He almost felt embarrassed for having nothing but a couch, a chair and a television. You didn't seemed to mind though and immediately sat down upon reaching the couch.

Bucky fetched you a glass of water and sat down next to you, watching you drink it all in one go. Your hands weren't shaking that much anymore and the tension in your shoulders seemed to have subsided. You turned to Bucky and smiled at him for the first time.

"Thank you." you said. "And I owe you an apology. I know I was—“

"It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I understand." Bucky explained with a smile before it faltered, "I'm sorry for what you witnessed back there, I didn't mean to be violent like that but—“

It was your turn to cut him off, "Please don't be sorry. He deserved that." you bitterly chuckled.

Bucky found out that the guy was an ex-boyfriend and that he had been abusing you all throughout your relationship. You broke up with him a month ago that's why you moved into Bucky's apartment building. Apparently, you filed for a restraining order against him but the guy was obviously crazy to go against it, stalking you back to your apartment, hence the commotion.

"And the reason why I've been blasting music is because it keeps me from remembering the abuse he caused me. I can't think about anything else but that at night, when everything is quiet." you explained.

Bucky's heart ached because he understood, he truly understood your sentiments. His therapist taught him that peace isn't always a good thing. Sometimes, it is peace that causes chaos in the mind. Silence could be a dangerous thing, that's what you and Bucky have been experiencing.

"Would it help you if you talked to someone instead?" Bucky asked. "Because I'd love to have someone to talk to on nights I can't sleep." he said.

You offered a smile, "I'd keep you up every night then."

Bucky returned your smile, "Then it's a perfect set-up." he said, telling you that he too had trouble sleeping almost every night.

Bucky realized that he might have had a rough start with you, but he was glad for that. If it wasn't for your loud music blasting through his walls that one night, he wouldn't have found the perfect white noise to help him find solace at night— you.

-

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[smol-cherry]

hello! i love how you write for tommy and i was wondering if your could write a tommy hurt/comfort (any prns) where reader is yearning and crushing on tommy and tommy's oblivious to reader's feelings ?? if you're uncomf or if your reqs arent open its fine if you skip over this!! tysmmm :]]

◇Obliviousness is good for no one

◇A/N: This has been in my drafts for months and I'm so sorry- I hate this so much, I'm so sorry :(

◇Character(s): Tommy.

◇Type: Oneshot/Drabble?

◇Genre: Angst and fluff.

◇TW/CW: Reader being called "Girlfriend" for a bit. Self-hatred, reader being harsh on themselves, cussing, reader and Tommy both being in some sort of denial tbh.

It hurt, it hurt so much. Why couldn't he see how much you cared for him? Was he really that oblivious? Or did he just not care?

Couldn't he at least tell by you the you look at him? For fucks sake you flirt with him all the time. You couldn't exactly blame him if he didn't like you or even hated you, but he had to know you liked him at some point.

He was so goddamn frustrating. But here you were in front of his house, hand on the door handle, god you were such an idiot for always coming back to him.

You snapped out of your trance as soon you saw the door open, Tommy standing in front, looking concerned, eyes as gentle and hair as fluffy as ever. This man will be the death of you.

"You alright Y/n? You've been standing there for a while now, I could see you from my window." He leaned against the doorframe, you could smell dinner being made from inside.

"I'm always good whenever you're around." You say while putting on your best soft smile, your mind begging, crying, pleading at him to notice how much you loved him.

He just chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, head titled down, looking to his right... No, he couldn't be embarrassed, could he? You were about to examine his face even further before he moved out of your way, asking you to come inside.

He closed the door behind you, a small gust of wind from it hitting your face, it was quite cold but still so nice. Tommy's parents had waved at you, his mother saying hello while making what looked to be some sort of Stir Fry.

You nodded in response and made your way upstairs, making your way into Tommy's room, you had both agreed yesterday to form some ideas for recordings or streams later.

He had followed you soon after, almost like a lost puppy. "I already have a couple things written down, if you'd like to read them." You responded with a small hum, opening his bedroom door, immediately seeing all the different papers on his unmade, slightly messy bed.

"Wow, okay you really weren't kidding." You blinked a couple times, starting to laugh, you really weren't expecting what seemed to be over thirty papers all stacked on each other.

He had walked past you, laughing along, sitting down on his bed and patting his bedsheets.. They looked so soft. "Mum would probably tease me if I had the door closed and someone over, so you can keep it open, if you want."

"That just makes me want to close it even more now." You were mostly joking but left the door open, as much as you would love to see that conversation you will have to spare him this time.

You walked towards him and practically jumped on top of his bed, you were right, his bed was very soft, you could sit here forever with him, you doubt he would want that though.

You subconsciously frowned a bit at the thought, making your heart hurt but shook your head as a way to dismiss the feeling.

"So, I have this idea about- I basically go around and ask people how to get a girlfriend, I know it's kind of simple but I think it'll work." He grabbed one of the papers on top and handed it to you, giving you a more detailed description of it.. Somehow.

"Haven't you already done things like this before though?" You say, not taking your eyes off of the page, silently reading through the paper, it seemed like he printed these out.

"Yes, but here the thing, you're gonna be my girlfriend for the video." 'For the video' You thought the universe would spare you for just a little while, but you were wrong.

There's no limit to his much you would pay for him to remove that last part from the sentence... "Is that okay Y/n? I don't wanna just make you do this if you're not comfortable."

That only made you feel worse, you would prefer if he yelled at you about how much he hated you then this, it's easier anyways.

But at least you can get a bit of your dream for a couple hours? That didn't sound too horrible. "Yeah, that sounds fine with me." If you stay positive about this, it could be nice.

"Great! Thank you Y/n, what time should we do this?"

��

You weren't sure what happened or when you fell asleep, but you weren't complaining with how comfortable and warm you were now, you were still pretty out of it but you could tell it was really late and there was quiet talking down stairs, it sounded like Tommy and his mother.

You were about to get up and then it hit you. You were sleeping on his bed, no covers on you but apparently you had one of Tommy's hoodies on, this was embarrassing.. But it was so nice, it smelled so much like him, it was wonderful.

You saw the papers you were looking over just hours ago were now on the floor at the end of the bed. You wondered how long you'd been out for, until you saw a familiar figure enter the room.

"Oh, you're awake, good. It was getting really late and I was worried I'd have to wake you up for dinner, don't want you to go hungry." It was him, the man who's hoodie was wrapped around your body, clearly way too big on you, the man who's bed you're sleeping in, it was him.

You sat up quickly, apologizing for falling asleep on him.. Let alone his bed. "I don't mind, you seemed really tired." Fuck this was so embarrassing for you.. And why was he so kind to you, you asked yourself but it was more of a statement of anything.

"Come on, let's get some dinner and we'll start recording tomorrow!" He smiled widely at you, looked excited.

You forgot about that script

◇

Today was the day, today you had to pretend to be in a relationship with the man you love the most. It hurt, but anything for him.

You got out of your bed, part of you missing Tommy's company and started getting ready for the day. You walked into your Kitchen, opening cabinets and fridge doors, collecting all your food options in your mind.

You settled on a sandwich, simple but so good. Once you finished it, you took your plate into the Kitchen and set it in your dishwasher. You noticed you got a text from Tommy, asking if you were still available for recording.

You said you were, asking what time you both should meet up today, he simply replied saying any time was good. So you offered to leave in about ten minutes to record with him. That seemed to be fine with him.

◇

"Y/n, how do I get a girlfriend?"

"You'd have to have the courage to speak to women in the first place, Tommy."

"Wow okay-"

You both broke into laughter at your reply, sighing softly after, you watched as a girl came up to Tommy, tapping his shoulder lightly.

"I just wanted to say if you want a girlfriend I'm right here." The girl said softly, smiling as sweet and soft as she could, it was so obvious she was faking.

"Uh- I'm flattered you-"

"He's mine, and you shouldn't just be asking people out like that, you could get hurt." You cut him off before he could say anything else, the girl just nodded and walked off, understanding the situation.

"Why'd you say that?" Tommy asked, genuinely curious.

"Because I like you, and she definitely just wanted your body."

[hertzwritings]

Play with me, chapter 2

A/N: another day, another part to my very unhinged August series! I’m glad you guys like a little unhinged reader and some serious killing-issues. Again, a massive thanks to @staysluttymyfriends97​ for giving me ALL the ideas for this fic.

You can buy me a coffee here and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, oneshot or multichapter fic!

Love y’all and remember, feedback feeds the soul and my requests (and askbox) is always open – there’s no limits because I am me, and I have none.

MASTERLIST

PLAY WITH ME MASTERLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: AU!August Walker x Unhinged!Female reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, mentions of knives, mentions of guns, language, smut (MINORS DNI), dirty talk, praise-kink, daddy-kink, public sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), cream pie, a smidge of breeding kink, slight knife-play, breath-play, p in v, unprotected sex, probably a BUNCH of other warnings I forgot about

Wordcount: 3.500

 Who owns you?

  See, the thing with August was, that he never went halfway with anything. Since Y/N was hellbent on acting out her little schemes, it felt wrong for him to still be in any type of law enforcement – which led to this.

Their little Lover’s Lane-business. He hated the name, but Y/n had looked at him with wide doe-eyes when she came up with it and he had no choice but to go along with it. Not that he minded an awful lot, because he was finally free of arbitrary binds of normal society, which had shackled him more than he realized, and the amount of freedom he felt when he was trailing a perp, made both him and Y/N giddy. He didn’t need the money or reputation, anyway, having more than enough for several lifetimes from his earlier work – and Y/N apparently made a good income in the revenge-business. No matter to him, he’d gladly follow her anywhere, sleep under a bridge and never have a clean button-down again.  

Which led them to right here, outside of a dingy motel-room, where they had been tipped off that a guy, who had been drugging and assaulting women, stayed. Y/N was giddy with excitement, and he had to readjust himself in his pants, that felt a little too tight now – she was wearing that goddamned skirt that made him lose his mind, and with the way she was jumping up and down, he got a very good show. “Come on, let’s go, daddy!” She smirked at him, but he held her back for a few seconds. “I know you’re roaring to go, but can you at least take this with you?” He asked, handing her a small gun. She frowned at it and held it like it burned her. He rolled his eyes and her and forced her to look at him, her chin and cheeks in his hand. “Daddy says take it. What do you say?” “Thank you, daddy.” She smiled, her nose crinkling in that particular way that made him throb, and she kissed him chastely on the lips before opening the door and letting him go inside first, rummaging through her bag.

He smiled tightly at the woman at the counter, while Y/N waved, and they continued to room 7, the one furthest away from the reception; he turned to look at Y/N, who winked at him and fastened her favorite butterfly-knife in her leg-holster – he preened with pride at that, it was a gift from him -  and nodded once, ready to go, her gun in her hand. He smirked deviously and kicked the door open, running inside and shooting the guard on the left. The man in the middle of the room held his arms up, his face contorted with fear as August lay waste to his bodyguards. He made quick work of the man, tying him to a chair with strips and standing up to his full height, sneering down at the asshole of a man in front of him. It was always the goddamned CEO-types.

He turned around with a frown when he heard small little pew, pew, pew’s coming from behind him, Y/N squirting water at the dead men around them with a fucking watergun. “I gave you a real one!” He said with eyes rolling. She snickered and shot the man square in the face with water from the gun, he very much did not give her. “Shh, less questions, more killing.” The man whimpered – what was his name, John something? – at her words. August raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you really think it would go any other way?” he asked. The man looked to Y/N with pleading eyes and August just laughed, gesturing to the vixen. “Trust me, you’d much rather have me handle you than her. She likes to play with her food.” Y/N smirked, a fire dancing wildly behind her eyes as she stomped down on one of the men, laying on the floor – he was still moaning, and the loud crunch of bones breaking indicated that he wouldn’t get back up. She ran to August and kissed him deeply, her hand grazing his hard length. He was never not hard when he saw her work. She turned to face the bound man with a wide smile, her lipstick smeared a little across her lips. “Hiya, John.” She leaned over him, her hands resting on the arms of the chair as she stared him in the eyes. August groaned as he saw her skirt ride up, and her bare pussy on display; she was wearing crotchless panties. She grabbed her butterfly-knife from her holster and ran it across the man’s face – to August, it looked enticing and downright sinful, but the man whimpered in fear. “Now… How smart is it on a scale of one to idiotic, to drug women and take them home?” She turned her head a little to the side as the knife ran down his abdomen. “Because I say… Pretty idiotic.” Quicker than anybody could see, she removed the knife from his abdomen and buried it under his kneecap, pushing it out of place. The man roared in pain as his kneecap loosened and she shot August a smile; he barely had the wherewithal to look at her face, eyes on her glistening pussy. “Now…” She turned back to the man, her hips swaying, and smiled at him. “We know you’re not alone in this.” August moved to stand behind her, his fingers lazily dragging across her lower back. “And for your sake, you would be wise to tell us who…” She ended her sentence in a moan, as August pushed a long finger inside of her, slowly pumping in and out of her. She bucked her hips and moaned again, holding a finger up to the man, who was both crying in pain and looked very confused. “Hang on, my partner in crime is doing me, give me a few minutes.” She said casually and turned her face to August, who smiled and added another finger. She was slick as hell, dripping arousal on his hand. “Daddy, what are you doing?” she asked breathily, rolling her hips with his fingers. He was throbbing and had half a mind to just fuck her here, letting the man have one good show before he died. “We wouldn’t have this problem, if you hadn’t worn crotchless fucking panties, baby girl.” He whispered, his free hand grabbing her hair and tugging it. She whimpered and he felt her tighten around his fingers. He’d never get enough of that feeling. He sped up and she mewled, her pussy making the sweetest noises at him. “I wouldn’t call it a problem…” She moaned and pushed back against him, her fingers grabbing his wrist as he fucked her with his long fingers. She came hard around him, and he grunted at the feeling of her dripping heat tightening around him – why he had such a problem controlling himself around her, he’d never know. She sighed happily and he slowly removed his fingers, sucking them clean. “At least next time, wear pants.” He said with a smile. “Why? You just gave me every reason not to.” She grinned and kissed him with soft lips, smearing her lipstick on his face. “Sorry for the interruption.” She said sweetly to the man, who was sporting a hard-on – she had noticed. “Now, that won’t do, will it?” She removed the knife from his knee and August couldn’t help the glee in his body as she drove it through the hardened length, a roaring screech filling the room. “There, much better.” “Now, if you’d want to avoid more of that…” August pointed to Y/N, who saluted him with a wide grin. “you’d be better off just giving us names. At least your death will be quick.” The man rambled a few names off, some of them already well-known, some new, and August nodded once to Y/N, who grinned and dislodged her knife from his length. August made little effort into the killing, simply shooting the man in the back of the head, and grabbed Y/N by the waist, leading her out. They had spent maybe a minute or two too long in there, but it was worth it.

“Wanna go for the next round or call it a day?” She asked happily, removing her wig and letting her own hair tumble out. He smiled, his cock yet again straining against his pants. “Let’s call it. I’m in the mood for a beer.” He said, kissing her forehead.

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

He sat on his chair, fingers around the neck of his beer and cock still straining against his pants, while Y/N was in the bathroom. The bar was dingy and a little filthy, but it was fine for the purpose of having a celebratory drink – it had become sort of like a ritual for them, at this point. They’d drink and they’d fuck and then they’d go out the next day, finding their targets.

A woman slid onto the stool next to him, her smile wide and eyes blown out with lust. “Hi.” She said in a sultry voice. He sneered and nodded at her as a greeting. “You look like you could use some help, there, honey…” She wasn’t afraid, that’s for sure. Her fingers traveled along his thigh and upwards to his hard cock. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He said in a clipped tone. “Why? You’d make me hurt?” She asked with a wink, clearly not getting the hint. He simply nodded to his side, where Y/N had appeared with fire in her eyes. “No, but she might.” Y/N smiled sweetly and slowly laid her hand on top of August’s knee, her knife pressing down on the woman’s fingers. She yelped, and kept her hand completely still, a little bead of blood pebbling around the blade. Y/N leaned forwards. “Touch him again and you’re never touching anything again.” She whispered dangerously in the woman’s ear, who nodded with wide, terrified eyes and left as soon as Y/N had lifted the knife from her fingers. August grinned at her. She scowled and jumped into his lap, grinding down on him. “Just one unjustifiable kill. Please, daddy?” she pouted and grabbed his beer, her eyes trained on the woman, who was in a hurry to get her things packed. “You know, you can’t just kill everybody who looks my way.” “She touched.” She nearly growled. That’s not an excuse.” She huffed at that and turned her face to him, kissing him deeply. “You’re no fun.” “Violence isn’t always the answer, baby girl.”

Hours later, he reemerged from the bathroom, eyes scanning the place for his perfect, baby girl. He saw red at the same time as he saw her; she was smiling and a guy had his hand on her lower back, a thumb dangerously close to the swell of her ass. He marched over there and grabbed Y/N, holding her tightly to his body. “Damn, dude, relax.” The guy smelled like stale beer and tobacco. “Don’t touch what isn’t yours.” August spat. “Jeez, chill down, it was just her little as…” He didn’t finish. August grabbed tight hold of the man’s pitiful wrist and broke it in a single move, the screaming filling the bar – August led Y/N outside quickly, pulling her to the back and slamming her against the wall. “You said I couldn’t do anything!”  Y/N pouted. “This was different.” “You broke his wrist, the bone popped out!” “Different.” He spat, his trembling hands on her arms. “Oh, so you’re allowed to use violence?” he growled at her brattiness.   “You want to see violence, baby girl?” He asked dangerously. She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Violence, pffht.” He nudged her legs open with his knee. “I’ll give you fucking violence.”

She mewled as his hand found her throbbing center, shoving two, thick fingers inside of her and began fucking her wildly with his fingers. He was growling and grunting, keeping her against the side of the building as his fingers pounded in and out of her, drawing the most priced sounds out of her mouth. She clawed at his back, her nails tearing holes in yet another shirt, and he growled, biting down on her neck, marking her clearly as his. “You were such a bad girl in there, weren’t you, baby girl?” he mumbled against her skin. She moaned. “Sorry, daddy…” He added another finger, and his movements became rougher, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants so hard, it hurt. He groaned and pulled away, turning her to face the wall – her arms scraped against the brick, drawing a little blood, but she merely moaned at it. He grabbed her knife from her holster – now pristinely clean – and held it to her throat, while he unbuckled his pants with fast fingers. She mewled and pushed her ass back. He smacked her ass hard, the sting vibrating through his hand and her hips buckled. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He murmured dangerously, drawing the knife down her chest, cutting her shirt open. She whimpered at the sensation. “Sorry, daddy, I’ll be good.” She whimpered at the feeling of the knife pressing against her skin and he chuckled darkly. “Yeah? You’re going to be my good, little cum-slut, are you?” She nodded vigorously and he pressed the knife harder against the swell of her chest. “You’ve been so fucking naughty, baby girl… Wearing those panties just for me, huh?” He grabbed her skirt and yanked it up, looking at her ass before smacking it hard again. He heard voices coming from outside of the bar, and he pushed himself against her. “Can you be a good, little girl and be quiet for daddy? We don’t want people finding you like this, do we?” He mumbled, biting down on her shoulder. She whimpered and moaned loudly. “I think I have to shut you up…” He grumbled and turned her again, kissing her deeply and roughly, tongue battling against each other. “Knees. Now.” He grunted against her, and she dutifully slid down on her knees, hissing a little at the feeling of the gravel on her bare skin. He was still holding the knife in his hand, and he slid it over her cheekbone, making her breath hitch. “Now, be a good little cum-slut and take me in your mouth, baby…” She whined and opened her mouth, hands already pushing his pants down around his knees, letting his hard cock spring free; she took him in his mouth instantly, and he groaned at the feeling of the head hitting the back of her throat. She moaned around his cock, the vibrations going straight to his heart, and he jerked his hips forwards a little, forcing himself deeper inside of her throat. Tears welled in her eyes, and she gagged around him, but her lips formed a smile round his cock. She loved it just as much as he did. “Fuck, look at you, my dirty, little whore… You’re taking me so fucking well, aren’t you? Choking on my cock, making it wet for me?” He was moaning in between words, jerking his hips against her and she gagged louder; he pinched her nose and began roughly mouth fucking her. She heaved around his hard length, and he chuckled at her. “Aw, my baby needs a break? You want to breathe, baby girl?” he mumbled, driving his cock down her throat. She nodded desperately and he removed his fingers from her nose, her breathing staggered and strained; he felt his cock twitch in her mouth, and he pulled out, determined to fill her. He could smell her.

He pulled her to her feet with her exhaling a small squeak, and pushed her against the wall again, face boring into the brick. “Look at my little girl. Are you going to be good for daddy?” “Yes, please, daddy, please…” She wiggled her ass a little, hoisting the skirt up to expose herself. He spat at her exposed pussy and let his thumb rub the spit around her already dripping folds. “Are you going to be quiet when I fuck you? Or do I need to fuck you dumb?” He asked, flinging the knife to the ground and grabbed her throat with rough fingers; she whined as he pushed his length against her folds, still not entering her. “I’ll be good, daddy, I promise!” She whimpered. “That’s my girl.” He pushed into her with one thrust, his cock buried in her tight pussy, and he growled at the feeling; she was already clenching around him, her body shaking. “Fuck….” He began fucking her deeply, dragging his cock against her walls with ferocity. “Look at how good you take me, baby… You look so fucking beautiful, full of my cock…” He managed to fish his phone out of his pocket, snapping a few pictures of his cock inside of her, stretching her out. “Daddy!” She moaned his name like a fucking prayer, and he held her throat even tighter; he could feel her swallowing against his hand, and it made him twitch inside of her. “Does my little whore want to cum?” He asked, driving his cock as deeply as he could inside of her. She moaned and nodded, her words nothing but lost breaths on her tongue, and he chuckled darkly, removing his hand from the wall and slapped her cheek so hard, it left a full handprint. “Fucking cum for me, baby girl. I want to see you cum on my cock.” He growled as he felt her clench tightly around him and her body tense up; her arousal dripped down her legs, the sounds of her wet pussy filling his ears – he could do this forever if need be. And need… Fucking be.

She met his thrusts, bouncing on his cock as she rode out her orgasm, her hands trying to find purpose on the wall, as he drove into her deeply. He was getting close as well, and he pulled her hair back, letting the back of her head rest on his shoulder, arching her back, and he was spearing her on him. He was a collected man under normal circumstance, but seeing a man have his eyes and hands on something that was his sent him into overdrive. Jealousy flared in him again. “You’re mine, baby girl. You’re my little cumslut, aren’t you? Fuck, you’re made for my cock, your tight little pussy so wet for me…” He held her around her waist, almost lifting her off from the ground; she was whimpering, pleading, sweet little daddies tumbling from her lips. “I’m going to fucking fill you, little one… Let you walk around with my fucking cum inside of you for the rest of the day.” He was losing himself completely, not a care in the world about who overheard or even saw their display. He let her go and pushed her against the wall again, bending her over. He hammered into her with ferocity and caught a glimpse of two men, who looked at them in awe; he narrowed his eyes at them, and they quickly scrambled to get away.

“Fuck! You want me to fill you up, baby girl, you want daddy’s cum?” “Yes, daddy, ple---” She cut off in a scream as she came again, his cock twitching in her as he pounded her roughly, her skin getting scraped up; there was something completely feral in him, that made him sneer at the sight of her arms, rough with scrapes and bruises and he felt himself tumble over the edge as well, shooting hot ropes of cum inside of her.

They both moaned at the feeling of him filling her completely, and he didn’t stop driving his cock inside of her until he was pushing some of his cum out again. He slowly pulled out with a hiss, and she sagged against the wall, her pussy throbbing, as he got on his knees and began slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her, making sure not one drop of his spend was wasted on the ground.

Finally, he stood and pulled her to his lips, kissing her deeply. She moaned against his lips and smiled, still shaking slightly. He gently let his thumb ghost over the handprint on her cheek, slightly worried he had overdone it. She grabbed his hand and kissed his palm. “Don’t worry, I’m not hurt, daddy.” She mumbled before her eyes found his.

“I love you.” She whispered happily and his heart swelled; he wasn’t an emotional man in any way, and he had shied away from feelings for most of his life, but this woman in front of him… Wild, to the point of insanity, her eyes deep with love and understanding, her lips a sanctuary for him… He loved her.

“As I do you.”

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

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[dreamsclock]

can't stop thinking about the guard dog au keeping in mind that c!sam demanded c!quackity kill the prison dog (eventually doing it himself) and cc!sam confirmed that he was surprised c!quackity refused. c!quackity likes dogs man, some part of him genuinely likes buddy :(

have an angsty thing i accidentally inspired myself to write based off this idea.... c!quackity is so fucked up in this au, he's so unstable + obv his care for c!dream doesn't change the fact that he's ,, done this to him, but i wanted to write a horrible little oneshot anyway ^_^ 

warnings: major character death, stockholm syndrome, lima syndrome, grief, emotional distress, wounds, toxic / unhealthy relationships, major dehumanisation, no happy ending - c!quackity neg, c!sam neg, c!dream hurt, c!quackity hurt. MAJOR dark themes/content in this one so pls be careful!!

GUARD DOG AU BELONGS TO @stabbysideblog !!

"Shh," Quackity mumbles, lips stained red, "hey, hey, Buddy. C'mere."

Buddy's whimpers don't stop - they tear themselves free from his throat, fingers scrabbling at his owner's chest like he can sew up the growing wound through sheer desperation alone. It makes Quackity want to laugh, or maybe cry: fuck, he thinks, maybe if he'd made sure Dream kept some of his awareness of his old life, he could save him now. Maybe he could save his life.

But it's too late to think like that. Techno's sword lies beside him, pulled free from his chest, and the pig himself stands not too far away, expression hard, eyes cold, with the rest of the Syndicate behind him. Quackity wants to curse at him, wants to push himself to his feet with a last burst of strength and finally kill the bastard that had taken so much from him - but, the truth is, he doesn’t have that strength. He barely has the strength to talk, barely has the strength to bring his hand up and pat Buddy’s face clumsily.

It’s wet with tears. 

Huh. Quackity could laugh. He’d never thought anyone would cry for his death, least of all Dream.

“It’s... gonna be okay, okay?” A harsh cough leaves him choking for breath that won’t come, and Quackity’s face creases. Coughing up blood isn’t a good sign. Neither is the desperate, tearful way Buddy is looking at him. But if he’s going out, he’s going to comfort his dog. He’s got to. “Hey, look at me, look at me, okay?”

Buddy crawls closer. The whimpers won’t stop - fuck, Quackity thinks, he hates that sound, he’s always hated that sound. Buddy is hurting, just as much as he is, if not more, because honestly, the white-hot pain in his chest is cold and numb now. But Buddy’s upset won’t: so, with the last of his strength, Quackity pushes himself into a sitting position, throws his arms around his dog weakly. Immediately, Buddy curls up, whole body shaking.

“Dream,” Techno calls, “leave him alone. Come here.”

Despite his growing haziness, Quackity is aware of Buddy’s whole body stiffening. 

“Buddy,” he murmurs, “’s okay. You’re a good dog. You’re fuckin’ perfect.”

Buddy’s whine turns soft, pitiful. It sounds like an apology.

“Perfect. Didn’ do anything wrong.”

It’s not a lie, it’s not. Even if Sam would say otherwise - even if Sam would say that Buddy’s incompetence is what had led to Quackity’s death, even if Sam would point out that Buddy hesitating and refusing to attack is what had given Techno the time to stab him - Quackity doesn’t care. 

Because he’d known, the moment Techno had walked through that door, that it would be game over. He’d known Buddy would pause, had known the Syndicate would win, one way or another. 

The anger has gone. The bitter passion that has been driving him for months and months has disappeared. He’s tired, now. He’s so goddamn tired, and he’s sad, and he’s going to miss his dog.

Buddy nudges at his face with his head. Techno calls his old name again, and Quackity, with an immense effort, pushes his dog towards the Syndicate. “Go,” he tells him thickly, coughing and grimacing as blood stains his shirt, “listen to them, Bud. Don’ forget me, yeah?”

Buddy stays resolutely by his side. With a weak laugh, Quackity loosens the collar around his neck, gestures again tiredly at Techno.

“Go with ‘em. They’ll look after you.”

“Sorry.” It’s the first word Buddy’s spoken in months. Voice broken from disuse, he whines, knowing it’s against his training, but desperate to apologise. “Sorry, sorry, sorry...”

“You’re okay. You’re perfect. You did nothin’ wrong.” Quackity’s eyes slide shut. “I promise.”

And his chest heaves, one last time, before stilling altogether. 

Buddy sobs, but before he can take the sword and drive it through his own chest, there’s a strong hand on his back, a gruff voice that cuts through his hysterical haze.

“You heard the guy. C’mon, Dream. Let’s get outta here,” Techno says, and, Buddy, remembering his owner’s last words, can only obey, miserable whimpers leaving his throat the whole time. Techno and the Syndicate take one disgusted, pitying look back at Quackity’s body, before closing the door on the casino for the last time. There’ll be a funeral. There’ll be a mourning process. The Syndicate will not be part of it.

(Buddy collapses in his new home at the Syndicate and cries and cries. He doesn’t sleep all night, and when he does, he can only dream of his failure - of hearing an old voice, of turning, of hearing a command from his owner to attack, of hesitating.)

(”You’re perfect,” Quackity’s voice whispers in his head, “you’re perfect, Buddy.”)

(Buddy curls in on himself, and makes a promise to never fail again.)

[medium-kat07]

Pretend

(HI I WROTE ANOTHER SOFT TNTDUO ONESHOT I'M SORRY THIS IS REPETITIVE BUT THIS IS ALL YOU'RE GETTING FOR LIKE A MONTH PROBABLY. THIS TOOK ME SO LONG IF YOU DO LIKE IT PLEASE REBLOG I'M BEGGING CUZ I DIED WRITING THIS SHIT I LOVE YOU GUYS)

Pairing: Tntduo (v v romantic)

Au: Workshop AU (you don't know what that is but you'll find out just shhh)

Tw: Repetitive words, whole lot of cursing, heavy mention of death, miniature mention of alarms, tooth rotting amounts of affection (i'm serious you will have to look away from the screen to collect yourself at least once), use of the word "zombie" as a nickname. !NO SMUT!

(Let me know if I missed any <3)

---

To preface this, and hopefully to not sound like an angsty self insert, Quackity did not have many friends.

That was what he knew. He had five people in his country, if you didn't count Tubbo, the restaurant manager. Purpled was still skeptical of the whole place. Sam wasn't talking to him. Foolish, while friendly, spent all his time building. Charlie didn't know any better. Fundy was just scared of him. Too many people were just scared of him.

He supposed he could count Foolish, and maybe Charlie, as his friends. But it wasn't enough. He still spent the majority of his time alone.

The place he had built, the new place, was nothing special. It was a small workshop on the edge of Las Nevadas where he came to put his mind to something. The world didn't exist here.

Perhaps "on the edge of Las Nevadas" is an overstatement. It technically wasn't in Las Nevadas, just a bit outside the borders. Which meant that here in this workshop, he wasn't the leader of a country. He was just Quackity.

The only issue was that people banned from Las Nevadas were allowed to be near and in the workshop, since it was on Greater SMP territory. That allowed people he definitely didn't want to see, like George, Karl, Sapnap… or the other person on the citizen blacklist.

So, of course, that person just had to show up.

"Why are you here?"

Wilbur smiled. "I was on my way to Puffy's home in Snowchester. I usually cut through here to get there, but I see you've built a little shack."

"It's a workshop," Quackity grumbled, turning around to keep working on the contraption he was building.

"What do you make in this so-called workshop?"

"Stuff. Guns, jewelry, clocks and watches… anything made of metal." Quackity took a screwdriver off the wall and started screwing in the back of an iron pocket watch. "You can be on your way now."

"I can help, though."

"How so?"

"Moral support."

Quackity scoffed. "Your fake positivity won't save you now."

Wilbur walked further into the room and leaned on the table. "Hey, I'm allowed to be in here. This isn't Las Nevadas territory."

"No, but it's my territory."

"It's Greater SMP territory. If anything, it's just a build you happened to make, anyone can be in here."

Quackity stayed silent. Maybe if I stop answering him, he'll shut up.

"You could just make it bigger. More tables, more stuff. More room for people to work. It is a workshop, after all."

"I don't want other people in here. This is supposed to be my safe space, to be alone."

"Oh come on, you're always alone."

And then there was silence.

Quackity knew that. He already addressed that he had almost no one to talk to, it didn't matter and it didn't bother him.

Wilbur also knew.

"Sorry."

Quackity didn't show any emotion. "For what? You didn't offend me."

"I said you were always alone, that's crossing a line. Just accept the apology."

What line, what goddamn line, we're enemies, we're fucking enemies. You can say whatever you fucking want.

Quackity took a deep breath.

"Fine. I don't care."

Wilbur just blinked. "Right."

The entire conversation was thrown into a mental trashcan Quackity kept in his head for all the moments he never wanted to think about again. It was getting quite full.

"Can you hand me that-"

"Yeah, got it." Wilbur already saw the dremel Quackity was pointing at. He took it from the dusty shelf and gave it to Quackity, and if either of their fingers lingered on the touch, neither of them said anything.

A dremel is a rotary tool that can be used on metal, stone, or glass to make engravings. Wilbur remembered using them in old L'manburg to engrave words onto the glass bottles of speed and strength. Quackity was leaned far over the workbench, practically falling off his stool, carefully engraving tiny swirls on the back of the pocket watch.

Wilbur watches his hands move precisely across the steel and smiles slightly.

"Willbur," Quackity said slowly, focused on the dremel, "Why haven't you left yet?"

"Pardon?"

"This is the part where you leave," Quackity mumbled. He picked the dremel up to inspect the gadget. "You barge in uninvited, insist you're allowed, argue with me incessantly, cross a line, and then leave. That's how it works. You should have left."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"And another thing," Quackity said, ignoring the question (which seemed to be common with him.) "Why is your hand on my shoulder?"

"Because you haven't pushed it away yet," Wilbur replied. His left arm was around Quackity's back and resting on his left shoulder. He was warm.

Oh so he's going to do THIS today, Quackity thought, using the dremel on the back of the pocketwatch now. "You're a dumbass."

"So do you want me here? You never answered my question."

"I don't," Quackity muttered under his breath, because half of him was bitching and yelling for Wilbur to go away and the other half was saying something against that, but Quackity couldn't hear what it was.

"No no, say the whole thing. Say 'I don't want you here.'"

"I don't want-" and then he stopped. Wilbur was rubbing circles in his shoulder. When was the last time someone gave me this much attention? Quackity's entire head felt fuzzy and warm, the words refused to leave his throat.

"Fine, you can stay, just- don't be a dick about it."

Quackity did not have to look to his left to know Wilbur was grinning.

This was the second silence of the day, and it was entirely welcomed considering that every time Wilbur opened his mouth, something stupid came from it. Wilbur's hand was still on Quackity's shoulder, and if it calmed him down at all, he didn't say it.

Quackity picked up the dremel again to look at the small incisions, and in doing so, he leaned backwards, forgetting the attention-seeking bitch behind him. And before any divine force could stop the catastrophe, Wilbur simply snaked his arms around Quackity's waist and held him there.

Quackity was moments away from fucking hissing at him, a long and colorful string of curswords running through his head, a million thoughts trying to make themselves heard. 99.9% of him was screaming with pure rage, and one tiny tiny piece of him was completely silent, as though his mind had its own thoughts and could think to itself wow this is fucking stupid.

"Wilbur," he said as slowly and as carefully as possible, "Do you know how many times I just cursed internally?"

Wilbur pressed his forehead against Quackity's shoulder and his chest shook with suppressed giggles. "Mhm."

"Oh you do? You do, do you?" Quackity said incredulously, setting the pocketwatch down. "How many then?"

"A lot," Wilbur answered, and Quackity could tell his brain was too foggy with laughter to think properly.

There was a third silence while Quackity contemplated how exactly he could kill Wilbur. He attempted, multiple times, to tell Wilbur to let go, but the words wouldn't come off his tongue. While trying to figure out why, he was affronted with statements like Maybe you want him to stay. Maybe you like people close to you, maybe especially him.

Quackity beat the traitorous thoughts into a puddle of mental dread. I'm not dealing with that shit right now.

The silence stretched on, and Quackity continued working on the pocket watch. He twisted a button in the side that should wind the miniature clock to the correct time, but it didn't move the hands. With a hateful grumble, he unscrewed the back of the watch to figure out what mistake he made this time. Wilbur was still quiet and Quackity hated that he wanted to know what the pensive man was thinking. Say something, say anything, I've never hated silence more, holy shit.

Quackity broke the silence with "What was limbo like?"

Wilbur's head shifted a little. "Hm?"

"I heard a little bit from tommy. But I still don't really know."

Wilbur was silent for a few more moments before saying "It was a train platform."

"A train platform?"

"Yeah, like a fucking- a jubilee line."

A jubilee line. "Like your song."

"Yeah." Quackity felt Wilbur take a deep breath. "I was alone."

"You were? I thought at least Schlatt would be there?"

"He was, so was MD. But Schlatt spent months at a time sleeping, and when he was awake, we couldn't find him."

Quackity knew. "And MD?"

"Spent the entire time in the living world. He couldn't leave his girlfriend or some shit."

Quackity took a wrench off the wall and twisted a large wire into place in the contraption he was working on. "Is that why you're so touchy? Because you went that long without literally any human contact?"

Wilbur just tightened his arms around Quackity's waist.

"Oh. I see." Quackity leaned back into him. "And nobody else wants to touch you?"

Wilbur nodded, his face still shoved in Quackity's shoulder. "Tommy and tubbo don't want to talk to me, Fundy refuses to see me, Niki wants nothing to do with me. Even my own father can't look at what I've become, nobody can."

That sounded familiar. "So you came to your worst enemy.”

"Are we enemies?"

"You want in Las Nevadas, I keep you out. Our goals don't align. We aren't friends."

"Well I know, but 'enemies' seems a little harsh."

"Maybe so."

"And, my enemy would have pulled away by now."

Quackity did not answer that. Instead he said, "God, your hands are cold."

"Sorry. Side effect of being dead."

Quackity traced the lines in Wilbur's palms. He briefly recalled a time where he tried to learn palm reading as a hobby. For the life of him, he couldn't remember what an unusual amount of notches meant. "It's fine. It's a little too warm in here."

"It's snowing outside."

"Shut up," Quackity muttered. Don't give me a reason to force you out again. I don't want to, god, I really don't want to.

Quackity felt Wilbur smile against his shoulder.

The fourth silence dragged on. Quackity wanted to ask him more about limbo, he wanted to hear him talk. He wanted to know what Tommy's ghost form was like, he wanted to hear why Wilbur worshipped Dream, he just wanted to talk and talk like nothing was wrong.

Had Wilbur always been like this? Back during the elections, he was formal and he was brash but he never crossed a line, and behind closed doors he was the same. He was soft and understanding and he took Quackity's heart with quiet remorse, he apologized, something no one else could do.

Quackity thought about why he had run for president of L'manburg in the first place. He remembered first hearing about Wilbur's plan and realizing how wrong it was. In his mind, he was saving L'manburg by running for president. He was doing the right thing. But thinking about it now, maybe there was something hidden in him that hadn't surfaced yet. That feeling of wanting power, wanting to be heard, wanting to simply be a leader. Because nobody followed you if you weren't a leader. Maybe that was selfish of him, but at least he THOUGHT he was running for a good cause- maybe everything would have worked out if he hadn't made that stupid deal with Schlatt.

He and Wilbur had almost never been friends. They knew each other and got along before L'manburg, there was that. And also whatever happened after he left Manburg, which Quackity refused to think about, because in Pogtopia while the others were out of the ravine, it was just the two of them, and it was like this.

Maybe not exactly like this. Then, they had nothing to lose. Quackity had been convinced they'd win the war. He let himself fall, and then-

And then Wilbur died.

That was the saddest part of that day, he remembered. L'manburg was destroyed, Technoblade had betrayed them, Schlatt got to die from a heart attack instead of karma, but watching the life drain from Wilbur's eyes, that was something entirely, entirely different.

He felt guilty that nothing had mattered more to him back then. He supposed Schlatt's abuse made his opinion of L'manburg decrease, and he never really liked Technoblade (which he was right about,) and he was glad Schlatt was dead even if Quackity couldn't be the one to kill him. It was justified for Wilbur's death to make him tremble. It was normal.

"Why are you so far away?"

Quackity was snapped back to reality by Wilbur's voice next to his head.

"Wilbur, I'm right here. You literally have your arms around my waist." He immediately regretted that, because saying it out loud made the whole situation a lot more real.

"No, I mean…" Wilbur sounded strained. "You're with me here, but not… here." Wilbur tapped a finger on the side of Quackity's head and Quackity knew what he meant. He grabbed Wilbur’s hand and held it away from his head, annoyed by the tapping, and ended up just holding Wilbur's right hand while his left arm was still around Quackity's waist.

"I'm thinking," he replied, feeling calmer from the contact despite himself.

"You're always thinking. Everyone's thinking, hell, I'm thinking right now. The problem is that you get lost in your thoughts."

Quackity sighed. "Well, it's much easier to get lost in my thoughts than it is to get lost in…" In you, in us, in the feeling that comes with your hand in mine.

Wilbur did not pester him to finish. He already knew. "It's not good for you though."

"Nothing's good for me," Quackity retorted. Especially not you.

"Affection is good for you."

"I don't ever get affection."

"Q, i'm gonna tell you what you told me just a minute ago. I literally have my arms wrapped around your waist."

Against his better judgement, Quackity felt a smile pull at his lips. He covered his face with his left hand. "I hate you."

"Then make me leave."

Except I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me here, I want you to talk to me, I want you to hold me tighter. And so the traitorous thoughts live.

Quackity said nothing.

God, I'm pathetic.

"If you don't make me leave, I'll stay here and just annoy you to death. A whole life gone because of one affectionate zombie."

Quackity smirked. "I think I can endure."

And that's when Quackity felt Wilbur plant a kiss on his cheek.

"WILBUR."

The guilty man grinned into the crook of Quackity's neck, shaking with giggles.

Quackity wanted his voice to come off as angry, or even just a little warning, but he couldn't stop the laughter creeping into his throat. "What the fuck, Wilbur??" He turned to yell at him, but when Wilbur realized his arms had slipped from Quackity's waist, he just hugged him closer, this time with Quackity facing him. He was still giggling a little.

"Oh, you're adorable…" Wilbur muttered. Quackity's face heated up. This is unfair.

"Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

Quackity looked at him. Looked him in the eyes for the first time since he walked in. "Like that," he replied. "You're getting that look in your eyes you always get when you look at me for too long."

"What does it look like?" Wilbur asked quietly.

"I don't know. You look at me like… like I'm someone that deserves to be looked at."

Wilbur blinked. "You are, though."

"And then you do that," Quackity continued, "where your voice gets all soft and careful, like you’re scared that too much sound will make me shatter.”

“Look me in the eyes and say it doesn’t.”

Quackity briefly recalled the way he recoiled into himself when the prison alarm went off. Sam was panicked, and Quackity just couldn’t stop mocking him. It was his instinct. As well as Tubbo’s execution, which he didn’t know was happening. Doomsday was awful, both of them.

He really didn’t like loud sounds.

“I like your voice better like this,” Quackity muttered, “Than out there. When you yell, it changes, and it gets so goddamn… abrasive.”

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur replied. “I’ve heard my voice be called many things before, and ‘abrasive’ is definitely something I don't ever want to be.”

Quackity sighed against Wilbur’s chest. “Why? Why not? Why do you insist on being so gentle to me?”

“I don’t want us to be enemies,” Wilbur confessed, and the sound of honesty was clear in voice. It was something Quackity hadn't heard from anyone else. You can always hear his honesty. “I want it to be like it was in Pogtopia. At least, I want to be friends.” At least, at least, at least, at least- what does that mean.

“You’re not going to give up getting into Las Nevadas, though.”

“No, I'm not. And you’re not going to give up keeping me out.”

“So we can’t. Wilbur, we’re not friends-" Or anything more, His mind chanted. "-we have too much to fight over. I know there are moments like this where it seems possible, where you-” Quackity paused. “-Where we both wish it was. But the world is different now. It’s passed you by, Wilbur.”

“I know, goddamnit, I know, Q,” Wilbur hissed, “But can we just- Please, for the love of god- can we forget that for a minute? Forget Las Nevadas, forget L’manburg, forget my death, forget everything, can we just- Can we pretend like it’s okay? Can we both just be here, pretending, for just a moment?”

“How long is a moment?” Quackity asked, looking away from Wilbur’s eyes and just staring off into the distance. If I look at his eyes, god knows i’ll fucking kiss him. God knows he’s gone too far this time. Holy shit.

“As long as you want it to be. We can just pretend that now is back then, when things were simple, when you and I talked and laughed.”

“Back then?” Quackity tried to remember back then. Before L'manburg, before the drug van. When the Dream SMP was simply the Dream SMP.

"What would you have done back then?" Wilbur asked quietly. One arm around his waist, one arm holding his hand.

"I would have danced with you," Quackity whispered. He was looking Wilbur in the eyes now.

Wilbur beamed, and Quackity saw the playful glint in his eye, and he couldn't keep the anticipating smile off his face. "What? What is it?"

"You'll never guess what I just happened to bring with me today," the tall man said excitedly, pulling an item from inside his coat. It was a disc.

"You did not," Quackity gasped.

"I did! Puffy wanted me to bring her this- but i'm sure she wouldn't mind if it was a bit used first," Wilbur ranted, walking over to the jukebox in the corner to put the disc in. Chirp began playing softly around the workshop.

Quackity grinned. He could do that, couldn't he? After all, he was pretending.

Just when Quackity thought it couldn't get worse, Wilbur leaned forward and held his hand out. His eyes twinkled with bittersweet affection. "May I have this dance?"

"You are so stupid," Quackity reprimanded. He shouldn't do this, he really, really shouldn't. He still took Wilbur's hand. "Fine."

Wilbur put his left hand around Quackity's waist, just like it was before, and held Quackity's right hand out to the side.

And so, within their little bubble of pretending, they danced.

---

Reblogs > likes 💕💕💕

(!!! I'd like to add that the Workshop this takes place in is not canon to dsmp and doesn't actually exist in the dsmp universe! It's my own au. I might write more oneshots of people visiting Quackity in the workshop soon!!!)

[gaysimpsstuff]

HI IM THE DOM DEKU ANON (I’ll go by ✨ for now? If that’s okay?) first of all that was SO good holy SHIT. I would LOVE more if you want to write it!!! I loved every single second of it, thank you thank you thank you!!! -✨

AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOU TOOOO!!!

You’re awesome, Sparkle Anon! Take this as a token of my appreciation!

Part One Here

Dominate Deku PT.2; My Hero

Deku x GN! Reader

Genre: smutty smut

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: cursing, semi-public sex, praise, blowjobs, dirty talk, praise, dom deku, breath play, masturbation

Summary: After being saved by Pro Hero Deku, you (his biggest fan), decide to thank him the best way you know how.

Other: I decided to make this one a oneshot because I’m better at those than headcannons. 

NSFW Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist)

Before requesting, please check if requests are open. This was made while requests were still open.

A normal day. That’s what it was supposed to be. You were not supposed to be stuck in the middle of a villain fight. You were not supposed to meet your hero. You were definitely not supposed to do that with him. And you were not supposed to get his number.

But that’s what happened.

Your day started out boring as hell, wake up to your loud-ass alarm, get dressed in a boring ass outfit, eat a boring breakfast, grab a coffee or something to wake you up, and go to work. 

You already knew what was supposed to happen today, and this was not it. You were supposed to stay behind the counter of the coffee shop and take orders. If you were lucky someone would put something funny for their name. Instead, you got an explosion down the street. Immediately, the costumer’s raced out of the building, you and your co-workers following suit.

You located three pro heroes.

Dynamight

Red Riot

Deku

You also noticed a few villains. You realized Dynamight must have been the cause of the explosion. But oh my god- you’re favorite hero, the current number one hero.

Deku.

He was here.

Outside your coffee shop.

Fighting villains.

Best.

Day.

Ever.

On TV, he looked different. Nothing could fully capture that beautiful neon glow around him, or the way his green curls would float upwards and bounce around. And Damn did his undercut look fucking awesome. He looked huge, like he could carry you with his pinky finger. He probably could- no. He definitely could.

Just as you were thinking this, one of the villains grabbed you and yanked you in front of her. You glanced at the other villain, who’d pulled a random civilian in front of him too.

Fuck.

Maybe today wasn’t the best day ever after all.

“Come on heroes! Fight us! Or are you afraid we’ll hurt these innocent people? Back off and we might just let them live!” The villain holding you shouted at the heroes.

There was a moment’s hesitation.

Silence.

Then something wrapped around you and the other civilian, and you were yanked forward, barreling towards the heroes.

Deku.

Did he really move that fast?

Deku stopped himself behind the other two heroes, who immediately ran towards the villains, but you barely even noticed.

Deku had his arm wrapped around you, holding you close. He grinned at both you and the other civilian, a glint in his emerald eyes.

“Don’t you guys worry, we’re here and we’ll keep you safe!” Your heart fluttered at the sound of his catchphrase.

You’re hero is so cool!

He sets the two of you down, but his hand lingers on your waist for a moment, his eyes meeting yours.

You felt your whole body heat up as his hand slipped down, brushing against your backside before he quickly stuffed it into his pocket.

“Dynamight! Red Riot! You guys finished?”

“If you’d been paying attention, Deku, then you would have seen that we’ve already restrained the villains.” Deku’s face flushed a little, and he scratched behind his neck with a chuckle.

“Sorry guys!”

The police arrived a minute later, and the crowd dispersed pretty quickly. You got in the line for an autograph from Deku. You silently hoped that he wouldn’t leave to soon.

You were the last person in line thanks to your earlier flustered behavior. If only you’d gotten over your embarrassment quicker.

Finally, you approached your hero.

“Um- hi Deku,” you stuttered, mentally kicking yourself for acting so shy. “Thank you so much for saving me, I was sure I was gonna get hurt back there!” He grinned down at you (how was he so fucking tall?) and your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s no problem, really. My job is to help people like you.” His smile was so sweet, but for some reason he seemed uncomfortable. Shifting from one foot to the next, glancing at you and away from you as if you were the cause. Were you weirding him out?

“Ah- I’m sorry if I cause you any trouble-“ you started, only to get intuition by the green-haired hero.

“No no no, you didn’t cause me any trouble.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to decipher his behavior. Then you saw it.

Shit.

This is awkward.

W-why was he hard?

Did- did you do that?

An idea popped into your head, a stupid, horny idea. One that probably wouldn’t work. But god did you hope it would work.

“I-if there’s anything I can do to repay you, I want to do it.” He glanced down at you, a look of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to hesitate before shaking his head.

“It’s alright- I can handle myself. I should really be apologizing-“ now it was your turn to interrupt.

“No, no it’s okay. I’d like to help.” He looked down at you, lifting an eyebrow to double check how sure you were. You have him a nod in response and he relaxed, smiling at you.

“Alright then. Dynamight! Red Riot! You two can go ahead without me, I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Dynamight shouted something at him, flipping him off, Red Riot stood in front of him and smiled nervously, waving at Deku.

“Don’t worry about it, man! We’ll finish off the patrol on our own!” The two of them turned the corner. Leaving you. With Deku. Alone. The her turned to look at you, gently placing his hand on your upper arm before taking you with him into an alley, ducking around the corner with you. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, cheeks flushed.

“Y-Y/n L/n.” you responded nervously.

“Y/n...” he murmured your name and you could feel your soul leaving your body. “Y/n are you sure you want to help me with this? You don’t have to and I’m not going to do this if you don’t want to. I could always just take care of it myself and-”

“I really want to help!” you exclaimed. “I’ve been a fan of yours for years and well... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive.” You felt his hand on your shoulder before you were spun around and pressed up against the wall. You let out a squeak as he pushed on your body lightly, putting you on your knees quickly in front of the hero. 

“Tell me if you want to stop.” his voice had changed, usually it was lighter and carried a sort-of happy-go-lucky tone to it, but now... His voice was deeper, almost a growl, and the look in his eyes made you shudder. You nodded at him quickly, before he undid a small clip near his crotch. It was probably there to help him pee without needing to take off his whole costume, but well... this was a great alternate use.

He pulled out his dick, and you choked. It wasn’t even anywhere near your mouth and you already couldn’t breath. He had to have been eight or nine inches, curving upwards and to the left. There was a long vein on the underside, and a couple smaller veins on the top. It was a shade darker than the rest of his skin, and the tip was very pink. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so goddamn big. Deku must have noticed your reaction, because he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s the face most people make.” he joked. “Gonna give up on me now?” you shook your head, clenching your legs together. You reached up, slowly wrapping your fingers around his length.

He smirked down at you, reaching down and brushing your hair out of your face. You slowly started to jerk him off, feeling him harden even more in your hand. A droplet of pre slipped out of the slit, dripping off of him. You moved to catch the drop in your mouth. It didn’t have much of a taste, reminded you a bit of cottage cheese maybe? Except not cold.

“Damn~ that was hot,” you looked up at the hero, who was leaning half against the wall. His eyes seemed to have darkened, and he had a smug look on his face that made your stomach flip. “You like it? Hmm? Like this hero’s cock?” you whimpered, nodding. “Why don’t you take on more of it, hm? How’s that sound baby~” 

His voice went straight to your crotch, and you dipped your hands into your pants to touch yourself. You pressed your lips against the tip of his cock, kissing it. You slowly kissed down the underside, all the way to the base. You heard him hiss as you licked a stripe all the way up to his tip, flattening your tongue against him.

His hands wove into your hair, tugging on it lightly. You shudder, opening your mouth and slowly taking the tip in to your waiting cavern. You watch the hero’s expression carefully, how his eyebrows quirk up, how he hisses, how his pearly teeth dig into the soft flesh of his lower lip, how his eyes are half-closed.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good for me.” he murmurs. “Taking my cock so well, gonna try an get me to cum? Is that what you want? Want your hero to cum all over you?” you hummed, slowly taking in more of him.

He was so big, you could barely get down halfway, reaching up to stroke the three and a half inches you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You watched as his smug look only grew, his cock twitching in your mouth as you started to bob your head, tongue running along the underside.

His breath hitched, and he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly starting to guide you along his length. You moved your hand away from his dick, putting your arm around the back of his waist, using it to push yourself all the way down on him. Tears bubbled up in your eyes, and you were just barely getting enough air.

God it was so perfect.

You sped up your other hand, masturbating as you sucked off the Number One Hero in an alleyway. 

Your nose was buried in a thick mass of dark green hair, and you could feel the vibrations of his voice from the support of his lower stomach. 

“Fuck, Y/n! Who knew you were so fucking good at this? This is certainly not gonna be a one-time thing~” 

Oh god yes. 

You choked and gagged on his dick as he pulled his hips away from you before snapping them against your face. His balls slapped against your chin with every thrust into your mouth. The tears escaped, tumbling down your heated cheeks, but you made no effort to pull away. 

You could feel your climax approaching, and you looked up at Deku with wide, innocent, eyes, willing him to cum in your mouth. He let out a soft moan at your expression, understanding.

“Get ready, baby, you’re gonna taste me soon~” he growled with need. You relaxed your throat as best you could, closing your eyes and preparing for him. Soon, his hips started to stutter against your face, and you felt something hot and sticky fill your mouth.

You pulled off his dick with a gasp, a few shots of stray cum landing on your face. You coughed a little, swallowing as much as you could and wiping your tears. You barely noticed him crouching down and handing you a tissue to clean your face with. 

“Baby~ you haven’t cum yet have you~” he asked softly. You shook your head.

“S’fine, just wanted to make you feel good.” you told him, and he frowned, slamming his hand against the wall behind you, leaning in close.

“I’m not leaving until you cum.” there it was again, the dominance, his demanding tone, his true wolf-like nature pushing through. You whimpered, pulling your pants down enough for him to see you. He sucked in a breath, leaning close to you and moving his hand towards you.

You put your hands over your mouth when he started to touch you. Fast yet calculated movements, he knew exactly what to do to you to make you come undone. You quickly latched onto him, hips jerking upwards as you came hard on his hand.

You felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft kisses until he reached all the way up to yours. His lips were soft, and tasted like watermelon. You lifted your head feebly to kiss him back, but he was already pulling away. He sucked his fingers and hand clean, keeping eye-contact with you the whole time.

You could feel yourself growing weak under his powerful gaze. When he finished, he wiped his hand off on his pants, tucking his softening dick back into his pants and clipping them shut. He pressed something into your hand, smiling at you.

“You can take care of yourself from here, right? Or do I need to save you again~” he teased. You nodded, muttering that you’d be fine. His smirk softened into a sweet grin, and he stood up. “Call me, I’d like to see you again.” he said over his shoulder, turning the corner and leaving the alley. You lifted your hand to see what he gave you, a crumpled piece of paper with a phone number and the words ‘Izuku Midoriya’ printed next to it.

His phone number. 

Not only had you just sucked his dick, you got his number. You sighed, resting your head against the wall and closing your eyes for a moment. Suddenly, you remembered you still had work, and you stood up, rushing to pull your pants and underwear back on.

So what if today was supposed to be a normal day? 

It didn’t end up being one, and you were so glad for it.