#southside masterlist

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - part 11

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 11:

Danny took a running leap and landed lightly on the next shoddily tiled rooftop. He’d lost the midget in the Southside factory district and now he was in some sketchy neighborhood with smaller buildings. It was on ground level, but it seemed almost like it was sunken into a hole as the rest of the city had grown up around it and swallowed it - one of the main highways even went plain over it. 

Danny stopped for a moment catching his breath. The roll of heavy duty cable slung over his shoulder was… well heavy. He looked out over the mishmash of old neon lights and newer LED signs for bars, nightclubs and little kiosks. In the alley next to Danny’s building money was exchanged for services Danny was not sticking around to watch. Blushing, he skipped to the next roof, taking care to land silently. 

He should just disappear, he was far enough away from his own hidey hole and he was tired. He was always so freaking tired.

But…

Well, first off he wasn’t phasing through a night club to go underground. 

And secondly…

Red Helmet hadn’t showed up. 

That was a good thing, Danny told himself frowning, as he walked along the spine of the newest roof, dodging around chimneys. The past weeks had been torture. 

Every time the Red Helmet had shown up it had been so hard not to go to him. He’d wanted so bad to give in, to just for moment heed the call of his core, the promise of companionship, comfort. Refusing that instinct was agony. And Ancients, Danny remembered how he’d looked in civilian dress, in that well worn henley, broad chested and with those big arms, he probably gave great hugs - if only he wasn’t one of the vigilantes trying to capture him… And if he wasn’t absolutely terrifying.

Danny shuddered, remembering how angry he’d been last time, yelling for him to stop. Yeah… Red Helmet was… He was an anglerfish, a lure, a treacherous light in the dark, that he had to resist, and last time he’d shown his teeth. 

Red Helmet not showing up was a good thing. 

Danny stopped and looked up to the cloudy night sky, jaw tight. It was a good thing. Why did he still feel so bereft?

He pulled the goggles down around his neck and rubbed his wet eyes angrily. Fuck it all, he just wanted to go home already!

His only warning was an electrical bzzt and he threw himself to the side instinctively. His eyes widened in fear as he only barely dodged two sticks sparking with arcing lines of electricity. Every hair on his body stood on end. The entire world narrowed in on those two weapons. He jumped backwards, uncaring where it took him he just needed to get away. 

Something hit his back and stopped him. His hands touched brick: wall. One of the sparking weapons was swung in lazy swirls as the dark shape attached to it bent down to pick up the roll of cable that had caught on a small chimney. Danny touched his shoulder, finding it bare of its earlier cargo. His hand tightened into a fist angrily and he cursed himself for not paying better attention. 

The shape got up and while half Danny’s attention was on the electrified weapon, he could now see it was Blue Bird. Danny had encountered him before, though only a couple of times. He’d been the bantering, good natured sort next to the angry midget, and he hadn’t known those sticks he used for weapons could do that.  

Realization ran cold down Danny’s back; Blue Bird hadn’t thought he needed the electricity before, but he did now.

Blue Bird moved and Danny ripped himself free of his petrification. Casting around he realized the wall was not a wall, but a pillar and most importantly neither was a thing that could stop him. It was only at the last second he went intangible and stepped backwards. The metal sticks clanged against the bricks where he’d stood. 

The sound of Blue Bird cursing, was a dull far away sound, as Danny started shaking. He kept a tight desperate hold on his intangibility but still felt himself losing focus. He quickly had to go somewhere. 

He dropped down until he found one of the many flood pipes that handled overflow if the sewers couldn’t handle the pressure. Something that seemingly didn’t happen too often judging by the dry debris left here. You could say what you wanted about this city, but the web of underground channels and tunnels was impressive, and the city was if nothing else prepared. 

He set down carefully and then let go of his intangibility. He was still shaking. His heart was pounding too fast. He wrapped arms around himself and took careful deep breaths even as his body told him he wasn’t getting enough air. But he was, he knew that was the panic speaking. 

He fucking hated electricity. 

Hated it. Hated it. 

You would think he’d be used to it by now. When he died, all the times Vlad shocked him, Vortex, that time Valerie tortured him in a basement, the- He forcefully shut down the thought. 

He should be fucking used to it by now!

But he was not. Especially not when it came out of nowhere like this. He’d frozen. They could have caught him. Danny could not be caught. Could not. Could not. Could not. 

Shakily he breathed in slowly through his nose and let it out. 

They were going to use electricity again. There was no way they wouldn’t take advantage of a weakness like that. 

He’d lost the cable.

Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

And why did he keep coming back to that! Of all things that should be the least of his worries. It was a good thing. It was. 

It just didn’t feel like it.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t blame Bruce for letting him take point on this. 

After Jason had pointed a gun at him, he was rightfully shaken. Oh, he pretended not to be, but anyone who knew him could tell. There was a furrow edged on his brow even when he played Brucie whenever someone wasn’t directly interacting with him. He was worried and afraid.

And Tim got it. He had been there for everything. He understood how terrified Bruce was of losing Jason again, just as things had been slowly looking up. Bruce was drawing back, which was for the better. The alternative, that Bruce might come to a point where he thought something needed to be done about Jason, was too terrible to imagine. He would do it too, set aside his emotions, and do something, if he thought it was for the best. None of them needed the fallout of a Bruce who’d convinced himself Jason was too dangerous.

He was dangerous. But, thinking of the broken mirror, bleeding feet and tired eyes, Tim thought he was more dangerous to himself. 

It had been a painful realization to make. Tim had gone to Jason, with the mission in mind, only to find that maybe Jason had needed someone to check up on him for him. But even worse, Tim couldn’t be that person, because they didn’t have that kind of relationship. 

It wasn’t fair.

In an ideal world Tim got to be Jason’s annoying little brother. In an ideal world Tim wouldn’t be afraid of Jason. 

 What Tim could do was solve this issue. He took a deep breath and put all his emotions aside, they could wait. He was a plans guy and they needed a plan.

Tim surveyed the mess of papers he’d made of the table, as he’d pulled everything off the evidence board. It was time to start from the beginning. 

He sorted through and found the “meta?” sign, crossed out the question mark, and hung it in the center of the board. 

In the beginning they’d thought primarily that the Ghost used cloaking tech, but the phasing had made that very unlikely, and Duke had all but confirmed the meta theory when he told them he sorta glowed to his senses. He sorted through the papers and trashed those old theories. 

He put the known powers back up, then paused when he found the little scrap with a silly cartoon ghost Dick had drawn and put up in the corner of the original board. It had eventually gotten covered with something else and Tim hadn’t seen it when he took things down.

Now he considered it with a sigh, and pinned it next to the powers. Ghost was as good a codename as any and Tim suspected it was only Barbara who still refused to use it because Dick was obnoxious about it. And, Tim moved on to the picture of the phone to pin it back up, there was the fact that the recovered messages said nothing but “ghost”. So there was some connection. He marked that connection with a piece of string to the cartoon ghost.

The short contact list went up with the phone picture. 

At some point when this was all over Tim needed to take a closer look at that phone. He had no idea how that brick managed to get any signal, much less how all the contacts were out of service when called from that phone, despite some of them actually being in service. Yet, it could somehow call other existing numbers fine, both local, out of state and international. 

It made no logical sense!

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let it go. 

Danny Fenton? went up above meta, they were reasonably sure that was his name. Next Tim took the list of known thefts and dates and hung it up on the left side of the board. Then added Star Lab break in a bit higher up. There was about three weeks in between the Star Lab break in and their first recorded sighting. It could mean anything. He could have stolen numerous things in the mean time without being discovered, or only just gotten to Gotham. 

Tim had scoured crime reports of Metropolis and other nearby cities for thefts that fitted Ghost’s MO, but had found none, so for better or worse he seemed to be sticking to Gotham for now. 

He put up buyer? And building? Underneath. Tim still had the terrible hunch he was building a portal that would end up destabilizing reality, but since he had nothing but his gut feeling to build that on he couldn’t put it on the board - not the board in the cave anyways.

He trashed a few dead end theories, found a scrap of paper that simply said “electromagnetic interference”. He held it in his hand for a moment, something niggling in his brain, but it was only half formed, he turned around and pinned it under powers and let it go.

Next he pinned up the “weaknesses”. Finally, thanks to Dick’s temper, they had something. He’d not been pleased to come home from his mission to the state of things being even worse so he’d gotten serious and treated the Ghost as an actual threat. 

Tim wrote electricity on a new scrap of paper and then put it under weaknesses. He tapped his chin with the capped marker. The Ghost’s behavior was odd. With the abilities he had, why even play chase with them?

He didn’t use the phasing to escape them early on. It was only when Jason entered the picture that began. Was it because the ability had a limit? Did it cost him to use it? Also what prompted the odd reaction to Jason that first night? And what about it made the Ghost so desperate he’d disappeared on them as soon as Jason was in sight?

Tim grabbed a new scrap of paper and pulled off the cap on the marker. He had to resist the urge to write “Jason” on the scrap, he’d keep that thought to himself, and instead wrote “limit?” And hung it under weaknesses with electricity.

There were more papers on the table. An analysis of the electromagnetic signal he gave off, that Tim had used to reduce noice in their visuals and audio. Pictures of the protein bars and the backpack. A map with every place the thief had disappeared on them marked: aka basically spread all over Gotham. A blood sample readout that was too degenerated for a useable DNA sample. These things didn’t go in the trash, but they weren’t important for capturing the Ghost, instead they went into a folder and put to the side.

Table now clear, Tim noticed his favorite mug full of steaming coffee and a plate of cookies set near the edge. He smiled and rubbed a hand through his hair self consciously. He hadn’t even noticed Alfred had been by, but he was a lifesaver. He would have to thank him later. 

He took the mug and a cookie and sat himself on the table, surveying the evidence board. He sipped the mug savoring the good coffee. It went perfect with the chocolate chip cookie. 

His eyes rested on “electromagnetic signals” again. It had been one of Dick’s early “proofs” that their thief was a ghost - if you subscribed to Ghostbusters lore at least. Tim rolled his eyes. The real reason the ghost couldn’t be a real ghost was that he was visible at all. Only magic users could see ghosts without a spell to make them visible (Something Tim was pretty sure Dick knew). He didn’t actually know whether the electromagnetic disturbance was a real ghost thing, the JLD didn’t need such tools after all when they could see them just fine. And besides if it was it probably wasn’t to the degree the Ghost gave it off. 

Would an EMP do anything? Probably not, since they were convinced the Ghost wasn’t using technology at this point, but a small localized pulse couldn’t hurt to try.

He took another sip of his coffee, contemplating, he needed something better. They could run the Ghost around all they wanted, but unless they stopped that phasing, he would get away every time. 

Jason couldn’t continue staying out of it like this. They’d chased the Ghost once without him and he was worse than a tiger in a cage, and twice as vicious. Tim scoffed, if only they could put the Ghost in a cage-

Tim’s thoughts crashed to a halt. 

No, they couldn’t- it’d never work- but if they- 

He jumped off the table, took three steps, then turned back to put down his mug and cookie. Then hurried over to the where they had the maps. With nimble fingers he sorted through the rolls only barely skimming the tags before discarding and moving to the next. They had to have- Got it! A utility map of the industrial area in Southside Gotham. He grabbed it and hurried back to the table. Unrolling it he placed the mug and the plate to hold down the corners even as he was already scanning the map looking for-

There!

It may be a while until the Ghost hit the area again. And they would need all hands on deck for this and preparations had to be made. But…

Tim smiled. They had a plan.

-

So we've gotten to this point :D Hope you enjoyed it! Comments will keep me warm on my night shift tonight <3

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Update: Next

[sashi-ya]

THAT BOY IS A MONSTER. hibino kafka x f! reader. sinze kink

⋆ requested by: anon. Congrats on 8k sashi!!! you deserve them all! I'm so happy you are writing for Kaiju n8!!! I hope I don't f up with my request, so here I go: kafka x f! reader, nsfw with any kink but can you add size kink? thank you sashi! 😁💓 ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. kinda public, no people around though. oral. size kink. sweet and hot best boy kafka. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @i-literally-cant-with-this & @southside-otaku 💕

“Hibino Kafka!” you exclaim. Another night, another late study session from the hard working “old man”.

“YES?!” he stands up, jolting from his seat, scared he might be in trouble. However, he calms down as it’s you instead of Hoshina scolding him for staying up too late.

However, you are there to do exactly that… and maybe, perhaps, win his heart.

“Sleeping is part of your j-“ “Sleeping is part of the job, I know…”

He knows you are right, but there is something he needs to do; to be able to fight along Ashiro Taichou. And that makes your blood boil…

“Just- never mind” you mumble, noticing no matter what you say it will never make him change his mind. And is not that you don’t want him to pursue his dreams, but there is a part of you that is absolutely jealous. However, about that, he doesn’t know a single thing.

Turning around, you know this will be yet another night like any other. No approaches to the man once saved you during battle. No  changes, no kisses… or so you thought.

As you are about to leave, his -pretty big- hand wraps around your wrist. A dominant grip it both made you shiver and scared you, prevents you from leaving.

The only light around, coming from the little table lamp, is the only source of light on the base library. Silence reigns as most of the officers sleep, and yet the only noise you could hear is your heart pumping blood alarmingly accelerated.

“You worry a lot about me, (Name). I must thank you!” him, solemnly and sweet, expresses.

You scoff. A thank you isn’t enough to your heart. That laughter sounds louder, absolutely tinted in sarcasm. Kafka, why are you so slow?

“is everything ok?” he continues, still holding your arm but this time softening the grip little by little.

“I care because I like you, Kafka” you finally spit, rather painfully or even annoyed. You understand how love works, but your heart can’t stand him having eyes just for Mina.

Silence. He is silent like a night with no Kaiju alerts. Like death, profoundly mute.

You get to release yourself from his hand, internally desperate to run away. You know there is no point in staying… you don’t want to hear apologies for liking her and not you. But then again, you were wrong.

“I LIKE YOU TOO!” he shouts, the only way he knows how to.

In awe, you turn around to discover a sweet -and sleepy- dumbass blushed up until the tip of his ears. His eyes, opened wide. His back straight. The little belly you love, sucked it up.

“You do?”

He swallows, takes a big gasp of air and his face transforms. From a silly teenager in love, to a mature man with a mission; communicate how much he likes you.

Kafka walks towards you, seizing the space in between you two. You swallow too, he is taller than you; bigger than you; stronger than you.

“Can we go to the rooftop?” he asks, as his hand reaches your cheek. It’s soft, and manly… the touch you never thought you would experience.

You nod, out of words. And out of words as well is how you walk behind him as you both climb the ladder to reach the terrace.

A soft breeze plays with your hair and his white flowy shirt. Ahead, the city lights of Tokyo glitter on a dark sky and everything around seems to be asleep as you two should be.

He bends over the railing; Kafka seems worried.

“Why did you… wanted to come here?” you ask, coming closer and yet keeping a reasonable distance from him.

He turns around, opening his arms, smiling sweetly so all of a sudden. “Come here” Kafka calls you to his embrace.

You hesitate for some seconds, but your smile finally takes over your whole face. How to say no to that big dumbass you are also in love with?

As you let yourself be engulfed in his big arms, you inhale his perfume. Never have you ever been this close to him, but you quickly get used to the scent of this manly man.

A hug so warm, his hands hanging loosely over the small of your back. A little bit lower, and those would meet your ass.

You keep your nose buried on the very centre of his chest, and your hands shyly around his waist. Even if you wish to hug his whole frame, you wouldn’t be able to.

“Silly” you murmur, muzzled. “Don’t call me silly… although, I prefer it over “old man”” he huffs, hugging you closer. So close, you are unable to breathe.

“See, I prefer someone older…” you whisper -lustfully looking into his eyes- the moment he lets you breathe for a little bit.

Kafka swallows, but it looks as if he had his throat dry. He can feel his palms getting sweaty, and all the blood of his human body migrating to a single place.

Your hand, because there is nothing else both could do to stop this, grazes his belly up his chest. You go slow, painfully slow. Your fingertips landing on his sharp mandible, feeling the raspier sensation of his unshaved chin.

He grabs your hand, allowing you to rest your full palm on his cheek for some time. But soon enough, it’s him who is placing his thumb on your lower lip. He softly plays with it, slowly and delicately opening your mouth, bringing you closer to his lips as well.

On tippy toes, you do your best to receive his kiss, but it’s him the one to bend enough to do so. Like a protective creature that is also about to attack you.

And oh, how he “attacks” you… his lips crash onto yours, with a surprising passion. Of course, he knows how to treat a woman, he is not a youngster anymore.

Tongues that dance, and huge hands on your body. Still respectful, but hot enough, one landing on your waist while the other presses your nape. His fingers tangle on your hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Your nails carve into his back, sure that those marks will be cause of interrogation coming from the officers during the next community bath time.       

The more the kiss deepens, the more he is tempted to undress you right there. And you, of course, think exactly the same way.

Kafka lifts you up, sitting you on the railing. You are safe; no matter how high you both are on that rooftop; you know you are if he is the one protecting you.

His kisses travel from your mouth to your neck; Kafka inhales your skin perfume, getting hungrier from your flesh the more he does. And the first bite arrives, leaving a mark you will need to dissimulate the next following days.

“I want you…” you mutter, in between heated breathe taking kisses. “I- ngh… I want you, too” he words, nervous, hard, needy, desperate, feral and also blushed.

You unzip your uniform jacket, praying no camera were on up there. Breasts still covered by your compression shirt, begging for Kafka to reach them. Nipples hard, ready for his tongue to play with them.

“Can I?” he asks, as if he needed to. “Please ~” you purr. “Hold on tight, I don’t want you to fall” he adds, using both of his palms to finally land on your turgent chest.

He squeezes and plays; he is still a little bit of a dumb. But soon enough, he focuses on sliding your shirt up. His eyes transform once again when he gets to see your naked upper part, almost like a salivating beast, he pounces right on to it.

Kneeled on the ground, he is able to bury his face on your breasts, followed by a wet mouth avid to devour each of them in the most delicious way. Sucking, biting and licking, making your eyes turn white.

But he wants to taste every single one of the delicacies you have to offer, and because of that he urges you to stand right back on the floor while he continues to kneel like a praying devotee of your godly anatomy.

And your most both pure and impure anatomy is what he discovers, as Kafka slides down your uniform pants into the floor.

“please… you are so perfect” he whispers, placing a sweet kiss on your right thigh.

You feel your muscles spasming, but also trembling. What a man he is.

Another kiss follows, right on top of your mound of Venus, causing your knees to faulter a little and for him to scoff in a cute way.

“Don’t- don’t laugh…” you scold him, pulling softly from his short hair. “I’m just happy ~” he smiles, kissing a couple of centimetres down the last peck.

You bite your lip; this game of lust is making you -and your sex- grow impatient. Already. Eat. Me. Out. Hibino Kafka.

He looks up at you, with eyes you’ve only seen while fighting Kaiju and a smirk that’s closer to a devil than anything else. Index slides your panties down, allowing your wet core out and dripping down your legs.

Gloating, he takes a final look at what he is about to eat, and so… there he goes. A tongue that’s suspiciously great and kinda long, plays in between your folds.

You try to supress moans and whines, but it’s tough work when it comes to such precise and delicious pleasure. And it is that Kafka lifts your right leg to make it rest on top of his shoulder, to suck and devour you even deeper.

“Kafk-Kafka-kun… my- ugh….” You can barely mouth incoherent words, a sign of your brain getting totally taken over by climax.

“Not yet..” he giggles, enjoying the taste of your core into his tongue. Kafka is not only delighted; he is over the moon -and probably trying to hold back his kaiju form not to finally reveal in front of you-

A last kiss on your belly button takes him to stand up; you, panting, can’t believe he has just stood up before making you come… but he has better plans for that matter.

“Can I fuc-“ “yes, you can fuck me” “Yoshi!”

The sweetest dumbass grabs you by your waist, and this time he doesn’t sit you on the railing but over what you presume must be some kind of air duct construction on the rooftop. You don’t exactly know what that is, but the chivalry on your lover won’t let your precious booty sit on a probably dirty cement surface, and instead, he takes his shirt off to place it in between to protect you.

You take a moment to appreciate his body; strong and still so real. A little bump on his belly, proper for his age… so. fucking. hot. Several marks, battle scars that haven’t healed just yet, catches your attention… when did he ever got his body cut with blades?

However, something you weren’t expecting -or maybe you did, imagining during lonely nights- was the size of his sex as it is freed from his lose pants.

You swallow. Is this… gonna fit?

“Kafka-kun?” you whisper. “mh…?” he asks, pumping a rather large shaft ready.

You blink rapidly, opening your legs enough for his hips to reach closer. With one hand sustaining your body over the surface, and the other shily touching the warmth of his throbbing dick you barely mumble words;

“You- big” “I’ll be gentle, I promise (Name)-chan”

He sounds by far sincere. But truth is… perhaps you don’t want him to be gentle, at all.  There is something, so absolutely attractive of a man like him. Of a man so sweet and still so feral… as if he had a confidential secret, as if he deep inside hid an untamed monster.

Well now, he has two secrets. And one of them has just been revealed by you. The size of that man is not only equivalent to his courage, but also quite literally in terms of anatomy.

“Don’t be gentle…” you moan into his ear, as his tip gets closer to your entrance and his body covers the moonlight above you.

Kafka grunts; you shouldn’t have said it that way…

Deep. Deep enough to show on your belly as a protruding bulge. Deep enough to make you loudly mewl. Hopefully nobody has heard. Deep enough to trigger your body to stand on the verge of precipice, on the verge of climax.

Slaps sounds take over. His belly against yours, the kisses inhaling the little oxygen left; that, and the soft growls and huffs of that man decided to fuck you until paradise.

It feels like your walls are being ripped apart, and so incredibly good at the same time. So full of him, the scent of his skin getting stronger; his body sweating, the faster and harder his thrusts become.

“Co-coming…” you communicate, muzzled by his lips. “Very good -ngh…” he does the same, hitting the right spot inside of you as if he was made perfectly for you.

Hands squeezing your butt, teeth pulling your lip. Your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, unable to go away… to pull back. Your nails once again carved on his back, your walls squeezing, milking him up.

“Ahhh fuck…” “fuck, fuck, fuck…”

[0-n-1-x]

WBC!Carl Gallagher x Rich/Northside!reader

link to my masterlist <33

Your private school requires you to do community service, and you’re assigned to help out at a youth center in the Southside. It’s far from your usual environment, and you feel a bit out of place, but you’re determined to make the best of it. You could've gone to the pet center, like the other girls your age, but you desperately needed to get out of suburbia. Carl, who occasionally visits the center for free meals or to hang out, notices you the moment you walk in. You’re clearly not from around here, and he’s instantly curious about why someone like you would be spending time in his hood. At first, Carl’s interactions with you are laced with sarcasm and teasing. He pokes fun at your clean-cut appearance and the way you seem so out of your element, but there’s no real malice behind his words— mostly curiosity. I mean remember this is still Carl, just in the body of a wanna-be gangster

You actually responded to his quips just as quickly as he spoke them, but you also spoke with interest, most of it in your appearance

I'd believe that you aren't full a nepo baby, I like to headcanon that you'd be half or part southside, having spent time there young and maybe one of your parents married rich and such

But you do know how to make your words somewhat powerful, and that intrigues Carl, in a different way than trying to scam the other kids

You’re organizing supplies in the back room of the community center, stacking boxes of canned goods for the food drive. It’s your second day volunteering here, and you’re still getting used to the place. The door creaks open, and you glance up to see the same boy from yesterday leaning against the frame, watching you with an amused smirk. “You lost or something? This isn’t exactly the country club.” he says. Crossing his arms, he saunters into the room, eyes glinting with curiosity. Without missing a beat, you straighten up, brushing the dust off your hands before replying

“I could say the same thing. You don’t look like you’re here to volunteer.”

“Nah, just checking out the new blood. It’s not every day we get someone like you around here. You sure you can handle it? This place can get a little rough.”

“I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’m not here to play it safe.”

“Is that right? Most people like you wouldn’t last a day down here. You must really be slumming it to end up in this part of town.”

“Real, huh? Well, you definitely found it. But be careful—get too close, and this place might suck you in.”

“Maybe I’m counting on it. I like a challenge, I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.”

He grins, finally extending a hand "Gallagher, Carl Gallagher" You reach for his hand, “Nice to meet you, Carl. Now, are you gonna help me with these boxes, or just stand there and look all pretty?”

After a few days of volunteering, (its mostly you guys talking) he invites you out with him on a 'tour'. You visit The Alibi, his corner, and he ends the trip by taking you to his house

The Gallagher house, if you could call it that, was way different than yours. Not just in size, but in functionality, you hear 3 different people screaming talking and a baby crying with loud video games noises in the background. Luckily, when Carl takes you to the basement which of course resembles what you identify as a 'mancave' there's no one there and its mostly silent

"So.. nice family uh- ya got there?" you joke, slightly uncomfortable in the bean bag he sits you on, the pleats of your plaid skirt ruffling up and you don't miss the way his eye flicker down and the way his cheeks blush peach "Um, y-yeah, it's not always like that but it usually is"

For Carl: it's weird that he's drawn to you, southside kids are literally raised to the 'eat the rich' mindset. Especially Gallaghers, but he couldn't help but want to spill everything he knows and even what he doesn't to you. So he does, he tells you about juvie, about the dysfunctionality of Gallaghers and their shit, fuck he even tells you about Monica

You guys talk for what comes across as hours. Part of him is scared that he opened up to quickly, but surprisingly you listen, without judgement. You even mention how you find some of his life similar to yours. The feelings of being ignored, or in your case paid to go away (which Carl finds not too bad).

As you speak, he moves from his beanbag chair to yours, inching and inching closer together you eventually are a breaths away from one another. You halt your speech, all your well thought out analogies fading away as you both look between the other's eyes and lips.

Carl speaks, "is it crazy.. that I find it really hot when you talk about being rich?" you pause, a sly smile reaching upon your face as you answer "no.. is it crazy that i find it really hot when you talk about being poor?"

More silence fills the room, then Carl brings his eyes straight down to your lips. "No" he whispers, as light as humanly possible

And that's when it happens. you lean in, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the rough-and-tumble image he usually projects. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. The kiss starting out rushed, messy, and all over the place. But it's not lustful, more childish if anything and you both have no idea what you're doing.

His hand hesitantly moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. You respond in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him even closer

When you finally pull back after what feels like forever, you’re both breathless, panting as your bodies gasp for air. Carl’s thumb gently returns and strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. But all he finds is a soft smile and the lingering warmth of the kiss you just shared.

“Damn,” he mutters, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he leans back slightly, still keeping you close. “You’ve got me all messed up, you know that?" you respond

Then it hits you, that was your first kiss

and it was with Carl fucking Gallagher

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs the masterlist

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

"𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙧𝙪𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙖 𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙨"

small age gap, enemies to lovers (ish)

the northside stark syndicates. the southside avengers. at one point in time, the two groups were one. now, they were split between a social and personal war. what happens when one, stark's sister, finds herself taking to the southside avengers. even worse, when she can't stop thinking about bucky barnes.

what happens when miss stark decides the stark syndicates weren't what she was looking for? and what will happen after she decides all she wants is bucky?

chapter one | chapter two

chapter three

[misswynters]

Dragon Blood: Southside Masterlist

[warnings: some chapters might contains (18+) content, dark romance, smoking, yandere behavior, smut

[note: if you would like to be tagged, let me know. There is no order that you have to read the chapters.

You meet the five men, each giving you a different experience worthwhile. However, at the end you will have to pick one. Who will you choose?

Chapter one | Aegon

Rooftop Cravings | Gwayne

Urban Ties | Aemond

Chapter four | Daeron

Chapter five | Jace

Chapter six | The choice

[court-jobi]

When Asking Feels Right

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work/art))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (fem!reader is an active pro-hero)

Words: 3.6K

Rating: T+

Warnings: canon-typical injuries, love confessions, mentions of intimacy, talk of marriage, BIG FEELINGS, light injury aftercare, language, because Katsuki Bakugou knows no other way

Summary:

You know Izuku loves you, and proudly tells anyone within earshot just how much he adores his darling pro-hero. But it's not until a close call that 'Kacchan' convinces you just how much the nerd means it. Making you pull yourself together for the sake of his best friend solidifies the fact that you are the love of Izuku Midoriya's life, and he's damn well sure gonna keep you alive to do something with that information. Bakugou might be barking at you gruff as always as he's trying to keep you conscious, but when he says it like he means it, you pay attention.

A/N: Ok yall's love for Let's Heal Each Other has really surprised me, thank you so much! Here's more of our favorite boy, feat Bakugou in full guard dog mode

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“OI, WATCH YOUR TEN!”

Forced to the ground hard, you’re dazed– but not totally crushed. 

There’s a host of noise around you that grates on your senses: groans of steel supports, concrete and drywall crumbling in batches around you; it's now just a slow burn of collapsing chaos. But considering this portion of the building just fell apart not three feet from where you were once standing, you consider this a blessing. You’d deal with a sore hip than be dead. 

One thing you didn’t know was who did the saving of your ass, until you try to turn around and another support starts falling off in chunks–

“STAY DOWN, ALREADY–” a firm, hot hand cushions the back of your head from smacking the ground needlessly, but he’s not exactly gentle about it.

Dynamight?.. Bakugou– or ‘Kacchan’ as you hear him called at home– he’s– the one pulling a full body shield on you?

You cough from the debris and your ‘guardian angel’ makes sure to not press down on your back too much so you don’t feel smothered. With a gruff hand, he bats the air around your faces to will the dust away so you both can catch a breath. He hacks right along with you, he’s still human after all– but at least he does so from over your shoulder, a courtesy.

Soon enough, the shifting of earth and rock and damage settles, and Bakugou detaches himself from the kneel over you and lifts you up from under your arms to get you to a sitting position at the only remaining wall he deemed supportive enough.

You are equal parts amazed and confused watching the agency hothead acting like the most dashing hero you’ve ever seen, and you're lowkey shook that this attention is being put on you  when he presses you back and crouches back to your level with a guarded eye. 

"You ok?"

"Nngyeah?"

"You hurtin’?"

"Ouch. Nah, just my head a little-- OOF–”

Bakugou’s looking you over with a hard hand on your jaw, peeling aside your hair not too gracefully with tough, padded gloves, fussing over you with a concerned scowl.

 “-BAKugOU!"

The pieces click together a moment too late: you'd blurted at him right as you realize why he’s looking at you like this, so intently– you're bleeding from the head.

"A fucking head wound isn't a LITTLE PROBLEM, DUMBASS- /Oi, I need a med evac at the old Sorgan hospital! Look for the smoke on the southside, that’s where we fuckin’ are–/ FUCK, he's gonna KILL ME for this!!"

You bawk at the way he looks– nervous.

Your teammate's concerned as most coworkers at your agency would be, but for the chilliest of your pals, he’s looking uncharacteristically wild about it… like he seems inclined to punch you for it if you were only in better shape. Instead, Bakugou just picks you up and sets you on some slanted rubble to get you sitting higher. While your head bobs at a lag, you watch as he’s rummaging in his waistline's pockets for that dry cloth he's supposed to keep better accessible for first aid.

"YOU DAMN IDIOT,” Bakugou gripes not too angrily, “You’re NO BETTER than he is, jumpin’ into shit--HOLD THIS–"

You're starting to worry why he's so mad. It’s not like your quirk can directly correlate to the building falling via explosives; that’s his department. You followed your path to an opening of the building altogether as directed. In the mess of it all, you had to get creative with your exit strategy which did put you at a disadvantage, but it all had worked out even after facing off with the last batch of villains before the entire wing came tumbling down.

You honestly thought he was just being heroic and appreciated him literally keeping you from being crushed- only now as you want to thank him, you're sure it would fall on deaf ears. He must be angry that you were there in the first place for him to have to tend to now.

 "I-- that could have been really bad, I guess-"

"You 'GUESS'?" Bakugou's tone demands that you look him in the eye while he talks to you, right as he's staring you down incredulously, "Yeah, I saved your damn ass from getting CRUSHED, - and it's on MY HEAD if something happens to you while you're on my watch!!"

You feel sarcastic, "Well, thanks a lot, m’sorry for the inconvenience. Wassn’t my fault for the building though…”

He swishes a bit of remaining water on the cloth and jerks your head to the other way, ensuring the other scratches aren’t actively sporting fresh blood. “Tch, well running towards the sound was a pretty DUMBASS move!! Don’t know where you got that from!!”

“I can’think a few heroes who migh’...”

“Yeah, DEAD heroes!!”

Sheesh, nothing will please him when he gets like this. You tried for a last stretch of sympathy behind a pounding headache, “Well, m’sure Deku will appreciate you keepin’ me alive, so m’tryna say thanks."

"Yeah he damn well better, if he doesn’t wreck m- HEH??! SIT. THE HELL. DOWN!!"

At your try to stand up and join him in getting out of the alcove, you squatted back,

"What?!"

Bakugou pushes up his facemask more like a headband so you have no choice but to see him clearly. He smooshes your face in his palms- risky, given he's fully sweaty and the smell would be enough to turn you away-- but the way his hands are shaking forces you to stay still and pay attention.

"YOU are the love of his life, dumbass,” Bakugou threatens seriously. “You're the sparkle in his eye and you are damn good for him, so I'm sure as hell gonna make sure nothing happens to you if I can help it-- and you runnin' around with a concussion ain't making my job easier. So SIT. down."

You don’t blink or breathe.

"-I’m sat."

He fixes you a challenging look, then lets go of you to get a better view of the street to check on the ambulance.

He's protective. Because he's loyal to Izuku, he's loyal to you.

But you’re still stunned on what he said- like it was God’s honest truth and an immovable fact.

Pressing down on the tight space at the base of your sternum, you feel for something past your suit’s seam. "Did he say that?"

"Say what?" Bakugou shouts back tirelessly from the hole he’d opened for ventilation; you imagine he may not be hearing so well after this fight. Despite how cheesy it sounds coming out of you, you clarify with a hand to the gauze up against your head,

"-me being that? For him?"

Bakugou scoffs with a smirk, "Only reminds me every damn day I see him."

You can see it, after all. It happens with enough frequency that you know the two talk even before starting patrol with you. The routine of Midoriya meeting up with Bakugou like how you imagine they did in their school days: your adoring boyfriend sharing news of his curriculum workload in earnest, and retorting to his best friend’s loudmouth brand of bragging about his villain count for the week, followed by turning the tables back to Izuku and asking for the nerd’s professional opinion about his performance- and what he thinks he should be strengthening. 

It makes perfect sense that you should come up in conversations, but to know now that Izuku speaks of you in this way? Past the usual lovey-dovey pleasantries Bakugou usually gags at? It should have made you happy, but given the pulse in your throat and the general ache radiating from your -everywhere-, you sniffle– Your concern weighs you to your seat now that you probably have Izuku worried sick. If he’s glued to the news for televised coverage on missions that he knows you’re working on, he would have seen this whole ordeal in real time. 

And in the entire time you’ve dated Izuku, the whole relationship where you’ve stayed in sync with each other despite working in entirely different fields (namely you remaining in the clearly more dangerous one), Izuku never once discouraged you. 

-Never asked you to scale back or retire for the sake of his fears over you. 

-Never asked you to do anything other than ‘be as safe as you can, and do your best to come back to me’. 

He believes you were a hero- just as you believed he was, too. But God, if it didn’t kill you inside to think of breaking his heart over and over as he sat on his break room couch watching close calls. 

You know had he been here on duty instead of Dynamight, your sweet Deku would have been the one here trying to lift you up and perhaps put your worries at ease getting the chance to help you and see you through to safety. But Katsuki Bakugou is hardly that touchy-feely, so having to come up with a pep talk to yourself is hard.

"Oi-"

You toughen up to look back at him, but get a softer response than before.

"You're gonna be ok. I got your back, didn't I?"

You nod.

"I will, y'know. Have your back. Just don't make it difficult."

You nod again, about to cry.

Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking it off and catching sight of the blue and red lights before he fully hears them. "You, with the waterworks too? Match made in heaven, I swear to GOD."

That night, you are hardly in any shape to drive yourself home and a bit too unsteady to even wrangle with public transit, so naturally you ask Izuku to come get you. With a faithful grin, he looks incredibly happy to see you in the agency lobby- if distracted momentarily by your expertly wrapped head and script bag in hand.

When you meet downstairs, you reign in your immediate reaction to seeing him like you normally would. It's busy tonight- teeming with interns, a changing out of a few vending machines, and a friendly spat between two other sidekicks is happening not far from the evelator you just stepped from. 

The building’s deceptively cheery security officer sees you coming, and shares to your boyfriend that he is going to put on a podcast, taking a moment to fiddle with putting his earbuds in and ‘conveniently’ switch over to his shades against the setting sun, which allowed you the sneaky propriety to fully hug Izuku, as quick and tight as you could before getting in the car. 

Talk in the car consisted of the usual after missions, which felt familiar and good. Obviously your darling didn’t hide his concern, but between your assurances were legitimate questions about how the villains were apprehended, what he’d watched, and the interest he gave in what the news didn’t cover- like asking more about your civilian recovery efforts and compliments about how many were saved today. This kind of cool down genuinely helped you leave work at work, and you appreciated that so much. It was a short drive, which you spent mostly holding Izuku’s hand in both of yours and receiving little kisses on that hand at stoplights. 

You walked arm in arm with him up to the second landing of your apartment, with him finally running through the more caring questions of ‘does it hurt to climb?’ ‘Throbbing or dull pain?’ ‘Are you hungry, or are the meds making you feel sick?’ 

You knew he’d be clingy and honestly needed that constancy after such an explosive afternoon. He was insistent on taking off your coat and getting your laces off with minimal effort from you, which you adored on any old regular day– but the waterworks came flooding back so hard while watching Izuku on his heels taking care of you that you stopped him altogether.

"-I remember the concussions Denki would have after going too hard with his quirk, too- ‘Chargebolt’, I think you’ve met. ‘Course, I think it affected his nervous system more than anything else-- w' h-honey? Are you crying?"

"Please just get up here~"

You hugged him tight the second he rose to full height,

"Oh sweetheart," Izuku petted your hair as you muted your cries, "Sweetheart it's ok, you're ok."

"I love y’so much..." you eeked out from a tight throat.

The eyes unseen over your shoulder stung at your words, but squeezed in just as tight there in the foyer.

"I love you too, honey. So, so much." Izuku kept you close and just rocked you in place to ground you, "Were you scared today?"

You nodded.

"I'm sure it was scary. Would have scared me too, being caught in the middle of all that," Izuku cooed over your shoulder. "Y'know it's okay to let it rattle you sometimes. That's why we're all here to support you. Help you bounce back."

//I have your back// Bakugou’s words hit you again in a wave. 

"It.. would have landed on me. I was right in the impact zone, when the southwest end came down," you sunk into Izuku’s neck at the memory, "...Bakugou got to me first. I wouldn'tve gotten out without him."

Izuku breathed out, touched beyond measure. “...he did?...”

"H'yelled at me for being stupid," you chuckled mirthlessly, "but he said some things. Really big things. And I'm just so sorry it happened at all! I don't wanna worry you when I’m out there!"

As you rushed through the emotions; not just of this fight, but filled to the brim and spilling over with other close calls like it. Izuku had a hard time understanding what was said that upset you, and just held you through it.

"C’mon, let's sit you down," Izuku picked you up like the koala you were and took you over to your couch, sitting with you perched in his arms. 

No longer surprised at the incredible strength he still carried -being able to pick you up like your dead weight was nothing- you sunk into his safety, solace found in his pressed shirt collar.

Your apologies turned into cries within a few minutes of settling in. 

The poor man's heart broke all over again, holding you tightly through your sobs, and hushing you through them. The crying was only going to make your headache worse. He knows this from experience, unfortunately… so even though he usually encouraged you to ‘feel your feelings to the fullest’, he did make an attempt to still you this time. Izuku pressed kisses to your warm forehead.

"Honey, easy, honey... what big things did Kacchan say?" 

//you're his spark//

//you're just like the damn nerd//

//match made in heaven//

//you're damn good for him//

"Tha-That I was... the love of- your life?"

Unseen, Izuku's sights widened. But had you been watching him and not hiding in his complete, cozying embrace, you would have seen the proudest look of love lifting those cheeks of his. How he smiled despite the concern he held for you in this moment, and took a grand look around the room - at the life you were tending to and nurturing together with fondness.

"You are the love of my life," Izuku assured you gently with the sweet coupling of your name, "Have I never told you that?"

Shown, certainly, but never told so beautifully. And to have come from Bakugou’s harsh lips of all people, the revelation was jarring in more ways than one.

You whispered 'no', but didn't let go for the life of you. Wouldn't ever let go of this darling man if he’d allow you to stay.

"-M'ere, look at me. Just for a minute, look here~"

You pressed back from his hold with unwilling muscles, only to be cradled in his hands. Green eyes full of tears looked back at you but with a full, strong smile forcing bravery forward.

"You -my sweetest girl- are the love of my life. I love who you are now, and who you're going to be forty, fifty, sixty years from now,” he pet your hair back and away with a little shaky nod, “and yeah- I might lose my lunch every now and then watching you out there…”

You sniffled again, baffled at how telling you all this could possibly be making him chuckle through his words–

“--but I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve watched the same tv screen and been so insanely proud of you! To watch you go out there and win, and shine, and– I can stomach all that fear. I can do that. Because I know you and I believe in you! And I am so thankful that I happen to know the heroes you do this hard work with can help take care of you and have your back. That’s what it’s all about- doing it together.”

You hang on Izuku’s every word of affirmation. It’s the language he’s best in, no matter the subject. Thankfully, right now, he's set on putting you back on solid heartground- assuring you of everything you doubt about yourself. Your power, your inspiration, all of it.

“You’re saving people- helping those who can't do it themselves, and you do it so well, love. These scary things happen… but honestly? It only makes me love you more for facing it like you do. And getting up the next day, and watching you come at it again.”

You keen under his full attention. The praise and love he’s washing you with is so earnest and filled with pride, it kills you to ever have obligations elsewhere in the world outside of his company.

Surely you can just stay supple in his arms for eternity and no one would miss you. 

“So you don’t need to be out there worried about what I’m thinking of you,” Izuku worked on wiping your blurry tears, “because I’m going to double down on replacing those worries in your head. I’m going to remind you every day of it. You’re never going to not have me in your corner, because you are the love of my life.”

Soothed and emotional in an entirely different vein, you nod you head back with a firm, brave smile of you own, before gingerly pulling him close for a little forehead touch, a well-earned kiss, and another hug latched around his shoulders. 

Izuku tended to you after your hero work in a number of ways, depending on what you've weathered that day: from taking off your shoes, cooking you a meal, holding you soft and sweet against his body on the sofa like this, or even helping you burn off any excess steam on the particular amorous nights where you just feel too alive to not show him exactly what your primary reason for fighting is. 

To protect him. To protect everyone you love and care for. Making your family proud both here and heavenward, and proving to yourself that you can do the hard things. Having a partner to support you in this work is an invaluable bolster in your life, and you feel it in every swipe of his hands up and down your back in this exact moment. 

His touch assures you just as much as it comforts him. Tells you how much you're appreciated and welcomed when you reach the end of the day like it soothes him to have you safely off the streets. You also know that any tear-filled nights on his end come from a place of complete affection and commitment and you don't really care how much Bakugou or any of your other workmates might tease you for being soft right along with ‘the damn nerd’. 

He's your damn nerd. The one you come home to and plan to spend the rest of the evening tending to your headache and scratchy throat and whatever other hurts have trickled out from your tough shell. 

From about your fifth date on, you'd felt in your gut that ‘Midoriya’ was likely going to be the name you'd be filling out as your emergency contact for life, so you started doing so on your contract renewals. That probably proved he was the love of your life, too, even if you didn't say so outright. 

Content to hold you forever, Izuku still asked of you gently, 

“Poor thing, you gotta be exhausted. I know you showered, but would you like a bath to let the steam help?” He kissed your nearby shoulder within reach, “It'll help the drainage go away.”

That sounded amazing and all but guaranteed he'd like to stay as close to you as possible. You hummed in the affirmative, close to bursting. 

“Good. We’ll get that started, whenever you're ready. Anything my brave girl wants.”

You're fishing past your collar uncomfortably, looking for the damn thing tangled with your agency lanyard, but dead set that you can't go on without him wearing it.

There's truly only one thought on your mind- the insistent proof of it lies hidden beneath your sweater neckline, slid onto a long silver necklace:

A ring sized for Izuku is something you've worn every patrol for a couple months now, and is practically burning as you adjust your seat on his lap to find his face. 

“Hm? I'm here, hon’, what do you need?-- what's-… Baby. Oh baby, what's that...?”

You hold the ring still looped on the chain, lifted for him to see between fingers that don't shake anymore. Firm and steady. Because he's loved you so well and so thoroughly tonight and every night, it's the easiest thing to ask the stunned, gorgeous man beneath you,

“Marry me.”

[ficnation]

New Neighbor - Fiona Gallagher x Reader

Request: hi!! can i request a fiona x female reader? something where the reader is a neighbor and eventually starts dating fiona? thank you!! requested by anonymous Word count: 1,9k+ Pairing: Fiona Gallagher x Female! Reader Warnings: usual shameless themes, maybe swearing, kinda enemies to lovers trope

Main Masterlist

Shameless Masterlist

The first time you met Fiona Gallagher, she was pretty hostile towards you. The word “hostile” wasn’t nearly enough to describe the way she looked at you. You didn’t have the slightest idea why your mere existence in the same neighborhood was such an inconvenience for her, but the way she treated you was getting on your nerves. 

You had been living in Chicago for a few weeks and liked it well enough. The house you inherited after your grandfather wasn’t particularly large, but it was more than enough for you. And it had all the amenities you could ever ask for. The rooms didn’t need to be thoroughly cleaned, bathrooms didn’t have to be scrubbed to look half decent, and windows didn’t need to be replaced. Everything was just right. 

You wished your relationship with the neighbors was just as right as the house was. But things weren’t going too well between you and Fiona Gallagher. In fact, if you were being honest with yourself, you were starting to resent her. 

You thought bitterly about Fiona’s frown from yesterday morning when you accidentally bumped into her on the sidewalk. You didn’t understand her hatred at all. 

Her siblings seemed to like you or at least tolerate you. You were always nice to them, and you didn’t treat them like you were better. Both of your families were stuck in the Southside with no means to move anywhere nicer. The least you could do is give each other a friendly smile from time to time and lend a helping hand when it was needed.

Walking through the front door, you sighed and tossed your keys on the table before flopping onto one of the kitchen chairs. You let yourself rest for a while, too exhausted after your night shift at the bar to do anything productive. You didn’t even want to think about all the other tasks that awaited you. 

Not even twenty minutes later, you heard knocking. You got up reluctantly and went over to open the front door. It was probably the neighbors’ kids playing a prank at the cost of your peace and quiet. 

But when you opened the door, your breath hitched. Standing there, smiling brightly at you, was Fiona Gallagher. 

Her happy face and cheerful voice were something you didn’t expect at all. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore a casual plaid shirt and some faded jeans. Even when looking so day-to-day, you had to admit she looked stunning. You slapped yourself mentally for letting that thought enter your head. 

Before she could say anything, you stuttered out a greeting and reluctantly stepped aside to let her in.

As soon as Fiona entered the living room, walking past the adjacent kitchen, you closed the door behind her and followed, leaning against the wall beside her. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed how close you were to her.

She cleared her throat and played with the hem of her shirt nervously. “You look tired,” she noticed. 

You shrugged and tried to play it cool, but inside, you were fuming. “Yeah, I guess I am. I work a lot.”

The brunette nodded and took a seat in one of the armchairs. “I’m sure you’re busy,” the woman said, guilt evident in her voice. Then a second later, she added awkwardly, “Maybe I should just go—” 

“No!” Your voice came out louder than intended. You mentally winced at yourself. You weren’t used to her being so nice to you. Embarrassed, you sat down on the couch nearby and rubbed your neck. “I mean... You can stay,” you offered tentatively. “Tell me what you came here for.”

She smiled warmly at you again and nodded. “Alright then.” Her eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid yours at all costs. You were pretty sure she was trying to find a way to ask you for something without sounding like a horrible person.

The silence stretched a little too long for your comfort, and you shifted in your seat, catching her attention. “So,” you began cautiously. “What brings you here?”

“Oh,” Fiona glanced away from you and chuckled slightly at her own awkwardness. “Right…” She paused for a moment before sighing deeply. “Lip told me you were a mechanic before you started working at Kevin’s bar.”

The way she said it made you feel a little nervous. Lip must have really needed you to help out if he couldn’t fix the issue himself. Or maybe he just wanted to force Fiona to interact with you like a normal person. 

“Yeah… Yeah, that’s me.” You quickly understood that she was only here because she needed a favor.  

Fiona stared at you for a moment, studying your face, trying to read what you were thinking.

“I know you probably don’t want to have anything to do with me and you definitely have no desire to help me with anything,” she finally blurted out. “I just... I really need your help.”

You frowned at her crossing your arms over your chest. “Why wouldn’t I want to help you?” you asked, baiting her.

“Because I’m a bitch.” She sounded honest and regretful of her former attitude toward you. You were surprised. 

“You’re not a bitch, Fiona.” You rolled your eyes at her, trying to stay nice even though she didn’t treat you even remotely pleasant before. “You’re just… You’re not the friendliest person around.”

Fiona shook her head. “I think I’m a bitch for doing nothing but getting pissed every day at you because Kevin gave you my job at the bar even though I knew you needed it more than I. I think I’m a bitch because I’ve spent so much time pretending that you’re this horrible horrible person when in fact you were always a sweetheart.” She gave you a sad smile. “You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry.”

“Shit, alright.” You blinked a couple of times, still not believing your own ears. It was definitely a pleasant surprise. “It’s all forgiven and forgotten. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Help me fix that shitty ass car, maybe. Just so I can get to work in time for my shift and not get fired, please,” she asked, looking at you with begging eyes. 

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “Okay, fine. Let’s see what we can do.”

Fiona grinned widely at you, and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. You felt your cheeks getting warmer. You didn’t know anyone’s smile could be so breathtaking.

The next thing you knew, you were standing outside of Gallagher’s house, sleeves rolled up above your elbows, a grease rag in one hand, and your cheeks smudged black as you worked on the engine of her car. Your hair fell in front of your face every now and then, so you tucked it away with your fingers.

It was hot and humid, and everything smelled like gasoline. For a second, you wondered what you were doing here, but the feeling of satisfaction you felt knowing that Fiona’s car was almost fixed and that she could now drive it again pushed away any thought of leaving. Besides, you figured you wouldn’t mind spending another hour in her company.

“Hey, thanks so much for helping me,” Fiona said after a while. 

You didn’t reply but sent an awkward smile her way as you just kept working. You didn’t know how to act around her yet. Gossiping about the neighborhood and small talk came easily, but when she tried to ask about your family and deeper things, you couldn’t help but avoid responding.

She was silent for a few more minutes until she spoke again, “Lip told me you’re leaving Chicago soon.”

“Yeah, by the end of the month,” you replied without taking your eyes off your work to study her reaction. “I’m going back to California for my friend’s wedding and I have some shit to take care of while I’m there. Not really sure how long it’ll take me.”

“I’ll miss seeing you around.” Her voice sounded sincere, but you still didn’t buy her words.

You snorted slightly at that. “Doubt it. We’re hardly friends,” you pointed out. “You hated me like an hour ago.”

Fiona raised an eyebrow at you challengingly. “Maybe I’m changing my mind about that.”

“I’ll let you prove it to me,” you snorted, wiping your hands on your jeans. “I think it’s done.” You nodded at the car. 

The brunette smiled widely, jumping into the car and trying the engine. The car spluttered for a moment before changing into a steady hum. 

“It works!”

When you came back from California, you felt relaxed and ready to take on everything and everyone that the world decided to throw at you. Not only has the state of your mind improved, but so did your relationship with Fiona.

She kept texting you through the few weeks you spent out of Chicago. You didn’t remember giving her your number, but you guessed that Kevin or Lip gave it to her.

You texted her back whenever you could. Her messages were full of random ramblings and questions about your trip. At some point, you found yourself looking forward to her texts, glancing at your phone every few minutes. Fiona gained your trust and friendship quicker than you expected.

What you also didn’t expect was to see her the moment you parked your car in the driveway. But here she was, sitting on the wooden steps of your house, smiling brightly. Her hair was down in soft waves that framed her face perfectly. The kohl under her beautiful brown eyes made them stand out against her pale skin. You couldn’t help but stare at her through the side window, amazed.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, neighbor!” she called out, jumping to her feet when you got out of the car to greet her.

“If I knew you’d be waiting for me, I’d probably get a speeding ticket along the way.” You grinned at her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The road back was neither the shortest nor the most pleasant, and you were worried you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

Fiona walked up to you quickly before throwing her arms around your waist, which made you gasp in surprise. You reluctantly returned the embrace, burying your face in the crook of her neck. You let yourself get enveloped by her smell—the smell of cigarettes and coffee with a tint of sweet perfume—for some reason, it was just intoxicating.

“Did you miss me that much?” you whispered against her, feeling her shudder at the sensation of your breath washing over her heated skin. 

“I’m proving I like you, just like you said.” Fiona pulled away to look you in the eyes. She spent a few minutes studying your face longingly. “Go on a date with me?”

You smiled brightly. “So I take it that you like women just as much as I do?”

“I definitely like you like that.” 

The brunette leaned in, brushing her lips against yours, waiting for your reaction. She partially thought you’d pull away and reject her after how she treated you before, but to her and your surprise, you didn’t. You tangled your fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, sealing your lips together in a rough kiss.

“I think I like you like that too,” you mumbled out against her lips.

@humanmistakes

If you're not on the taglist but would like to be tagged let me know!

[echobx]

soulmates 3 - jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: y/n makes a new friend and meets JJ's friends for the first time, but things don't go quite as she thought

warnings: hurt with little comfort, screaming, fluff, making out

word count: 2k

author's note: it was actually pretty painful writing this but I persevered

masterlist part 2

Walking through the halls of the Kook Academy felt different now. You felt like you didn't belong anymore, like everyone hated you. Kelce avoided looking at you and so did everyone who you had called your friend just a day before.  You didn't know what he had told them, and it didn't matter anymore. The only one who didn't seem fond of how you were treated was Topper, but he didn't make a move to help you either.  Lunch break had never been worse, and you were inclined to fill your mind with JJ, but you didn't want to bother him either. 

“Is that seat taken?” A sweet voice came to you as you sat in your geometry class. You looked up and were greeted by a gentle smile from none other than Sarah Cameron.  “Uh, no, it's yours if you want it,” you replied with a raspy voice, your throat was dry because you hadn't said a single word all day. She sat down in the seat that had usually held Kelce, but now you were on your own.  “Kelce is an asshole. He never deserved you anyway,” she whispered to you, and you looked a bit baffled.  “What?” you gasped quietly.  “You broke up with him, right? I mean, he's telling everyone that he did it, but let's be honest,” she chuckled, and you felt a bit better. She spent the whole lesson chit-chatting with you without the teacher noticing. 

As soon as the lesson was over you walked to your locker, and she followed you.  ‘Thank you,’ you thought and hoped that JJ would reply.  ‘For what?’ he asked.  ‘Sarah,’ you told him while smiling at her as she kept talking about something that had to do with a surf date later that day.  ‘I didn't talk to her,’ he said, and it confused you a bit, a bit too much actually because she stopped talking and just took your hand.  “Topper told me, he thought you needed a friend,” she admitted, and you felt so stupid for thinking that JJ would have talked to her about it.  “Oh,” you exclaimed quietly and clawed at your books.  “He didn't tell me who though, I think that would have been too personal anyway.” She smiled and you nodded.  ‘She doesn't know it's you,’ you let your mind slip back to him, but he didn't answer. “He scared me last night, Kelce. I've never been scared of him before,” you admitted and she just hugged you.  “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” she mumbled into your hair.  “Me too,” you hushed and held onto her. 

The last lesson of the day went by in a heartbeat, and you were walking out of the building, Sarah holding onto your arm and both of you laughing over something your French teacher had said.  ‘I guess that's called a hard launch,’ JJ chuckled, and you scanned the yard in front of the school until your eyes got stuck on him, leaning against his motorcycle. Your heart started racing, and you had a hard time not running over to him instantly.  “JJ? What are you doing here?” Sarah asked him as you walked over to him and you bit your lip. His blue eyes jumped in between the two of you and his mind was truly empty.  ‘Say something,’ you urged him and his eyes got stuck on you.  “I only have one seat left,” he mumbled.  “I see,” Sarah chuckled and let go of you. “You two have fun, but not too much,” she said and walked away.  “I've never ridden on a motorcycle,” you hushed, and a smile came to his lips.  “There's a first time for everything,” he replied just as quietly. 

JJ helped you put on the helmet and explained to you how to sit before you got on behind him, and he started driving.  Your arms were wrapped around him as he raced towards the Southside.  ‘Where are you taking me?’ you asked as he kept driving.  ‘Hard launching seems to work better than I expected,’ he answered and turned left down a path and stopped in front of a house, the yard to which was the same as the one you had seen in his memory.  “Welcome to the Château,” JJ told you after helping you take off the helmet. You weren't sure if all the nervousness you felt was your own but a mix of the both of yours.  JJ walked you around, showed you the house and every little nook, telling stories and letting his memories slip until you felt like you had spent your whole life at the small house. Your fingers intertwined the entire time as if you had always done it and not just started. 

The sound of a car approaching made you jump and JJ chuckled.  ‘It’s gonna be okay,’ he promised you as you walked outside, to meet his friends, the people who felt like family to him, for the first time.  You were incredibly scared of what they would think but then the curly haired boy, John B, came walking straight up to you and embraced you in a hug.  “Welcome to the family, y/n.” He smiled at you and you were relieved.  Sarah winked at you and the other boy greeted you with a smile. A girl you had never seen before, not even in JJ's memories, was standing by his side and smiled at you. The only one who wasn't happy about it was Kiara.  You felt her eyes piercing you and what was even worse was how nervous JJ got, worse than before. 

She looked at him and back down at you before turning around and walking away.  “Kie,” JJ called after her and you could feel how much it hurt him to see her walk away.  “I'll talk to her,” Sarah said and followed the girl. You didn't know what had happened between JJ and Kiara, but it didn't feel nice, in a way it felt worse than what you had to deal with when it had come to Kelce.  “She'll have to live with it,” John B sighed. JJ shot him an angry glare before he let go of your hand and walked after Kiara and Sarah.  ‘I didn't mean for this, I'm sorry,’ he apologized without turning around, and you tried to smile at John B who put his arm around you and guided you back inside. 

“Tell me, y/n, how exactly did it happen?” JB asked, but your mind was completely occupied by the turmoil in JJ's head and heart. You hadn't even stopped to think if he had someone who could get hurt. You had only focused on your own pain, and he had stood by you instead of focusing on his own problems with it.  “She's gonna be okay,” Pope assured you, and you looked at him a bit confused. Were you that easy to read?  “I was out for lunch with my- I mean, with Kelce,” you corrected yourself and gave them the shortest recap of all of it.  “Sounds a bit too familiar,” John B laughed.  “Were they together?” You looked at him in the hopes he would give you the answers that JJ was denying you at that moment.  “On-off kinda thing,” Cleo answered, and you fell down on the couch.  “I see,” you sighed and felt like crying.  “It's not your fault,” John B took your hand after sitting down by your side.  ‘Not our fault.’ You kept repeating in your mind and hoped he would listen. 

“Why did you even bring her here!” You could hear Kiara scream outside.  “I don't have a choice, Kie,” JJ pleaded with her, and it felt like his heart was breaking. You clawed at the pain in your chest and got up.  “I should go home,” you mumbled and walked outside, trying to leave but the two of them were blocking the porch door, and you didn't know where the main door of the house was located.  Her eyes fell on you and she scoffed. “Did you even tell her? Of course, you didn't.”  “Kie, please,” JJ was nearly begging.  “Two days ago you told me you didn't care, you said you wouldn't fall for it even if it did happen. You said you loved me!” she screamed at him and I didn't know how he was still standing upright with the amount of pain that flooded through him. “I'm sorry,” you apologized quietly before pushing past her and walking away, away from the house, from JJ, from what you had hoped would be your future. 

You didn't blame him for not running after you, he had to deal with a mess that you had started because you had thought of him in the first place.  “It's not your fault.” John B's words echoed through your mind as you tried to blend out the pain. You took out your phone and called an Uber to drive you home, not wanting to inconvenience anyone else.  When you got home you fell into your bed and cried through the pain until you fell asleep. Your dreams showed you how much more it would've hurt if he had done what he had promised Kiara. 

You were woken up by a light knock on your door. “Dinner is ready, y/n,” your dad called and you groaned.  The pain was gone, but instead you felt empty, as if someone had cut your heart out. Having to get up and drag yourself to the table to eat just a tiny bit was harder than you had expected.  Your parents seemed concerned, but they didn't say anything, so you just sat in silence while trying to get at least a quarter of your dinner down. It was too silent in your mind, way too silent, but no matter how much you tried to reach out, he wouldn't respond. As a last effort of getting his attention you told him your address, but yet again, no reply. 

You went back to bed and slept until midday; not caring about school or what anyone might think of you for rather curling up in yourself than going out and parading around how lucky you could be to have found your soulmate like other people did.  It took you two days to leave your bed another time and a third until you could feel him again, still broken but less so than before. On the fourth day your parents got concerned. Yet they still didn't want to get involved, but at least you started to move again.  Five days, that's how long it took for him to find the words to speak to you. 

‘Can I come by?’ he asked gently and ten minutes after you had agreed to it, he knocked on your door, falling into your arms as soon as the door was opened.  “I'm sorry,” he mumbled while holding onto you.  It overwhelmed you to suddenly be allowed back into his head, you hadn't understood how he had even managed to lock you out of it. “Not your fault,” you mumbled.  “It is. I should've told her the moment I found you, but I was too occupied with figuring this out, with helping you,” he said, and you felt guilty because of it.  “My fault,” you mumbled and pulled yourself away.  “No,” he shook his head and took your face into his hands. “None of this is your fault, especially not this.”  You looked up at him and took a deep breath before closing your eyes and focusing only on how happy you had been that first day with him.  ‘Please don't lock me out again,’ you begged silently, and then his forehead met yours.  ‘Never again,’ he promised before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. It felt like the only kiss ever, like your entire life depended on it.  And then, with every kiss that followed he let more and more of his guard down, until there was nothing left, no more hiding.  There was no question if you loved each other because it was a simple fact. You didn't have to think about it in the same way you didn't have to remind your body to pump blood through it.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

part 4

[gallaghersgal]

lip gallagher fluff where he's your safe place 🙂

safe and sound || lip gallagher

pairing: lip x northside!reader

warnings: i wrote this while high dev im so sorry lmao

a/n: my tummy hurts from how much i wanna kiss him

new years was never your favorite holiday. your dad always drank too much and ended up passed out before the ball dropped. you were always alone on new years.

this year your dad was out by 10:00, giving you plenty of time to steal a couple twenties from his wallet and catch a cab down to the southside. to the gallaghers' house.

now you're settled in lip's lap, squished into the armchair with one strong hand resting possessively on your hip. he's too good to you.

there was never a day when you didn't feel safe, as long as he was around. if you were cold, he gave you his coat. if someone was bothering you at the club, he was at your side. if any little trinket caught your eye at the mall, it left the store in his pocket just for you.

an empty beer bottle clunks down beside you on the table, and lip's other arm circles around your waist. "'s midnight."

you smile, turning your head to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"happy new years baby," he whispered.

"happy new year. can't wait to spend it with you.

end.

my masterlist. my winter sleepover.

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Masterlist

Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

Warning: there will be smut, in the masterliat you'll find the Chapters that contains smut in red.

Season 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

[sashi-ya]

THE JAKDF VANS hibino kafka x f! reader. +18. explicit

⋆ requested by: @southside-otaku Hiya lovey, I saw your slots were filled on the Kn8 event but was wondering if you could open one more for a fem reader and Kafka using a praise kink (it goes both ways and they just praise each other through the whole thing)? Thank you so much for all your writings! ~South ⋆ tw: mdni. explicit smut. oral. car (van :P) sex. nipple sucking. praising both, loving each other so much, expressing their love through sex. ⋆ wc: 2.5K // event masterlist // tagging: @kpopluvr95

A soft smile flies his way. A big smirk reaches you from the other side. With Kafka is always that way; his presence is enough to make you happy.

A chill night has fallen and covered the sky with its dark mantle. Little shiny dots blink on it, as embroidered with silver cosmic thread. Sore muscles, sleepy eyelids; still some energy to rest with your squad comrades.

It’s become a habit of you all, to hang on the hills until dinner time. The little vans of the JAKDF bring you to the top of the hills within the Tachikawa base, and they are often used for your sweaty anti kaiju suits to rest aside. Sometimes, even, allowing you to prepare some food in case you decide to have some little picnic after training. Tonight, however, one of those little vans, will be useful for yet another purpose…

When most of the crew has left for comforting baths and a so needed bed, two of you have decided to stay for a little longer.

“The night looks beautiful…” Kafka says, coming closer to you once the last van except yours have parted.

“Indeed ~” you purr, crawling on him. You’ve been waiting for this, for your frame to be finally surrounded by Kafka’s. You’ve been waiting for your nose to bury on the crook of his neck, and for your palm to slid under his black compression shirt. He got the habit of wearing them from Soshiro, and you are happy he did.

“But not as beautiful as you, (Name)” Kafka continues, laughing like a silly boy right after.

Oh, you dumb, big, huggable, kissable, biteable man… 

You nuzzle on him, inhaling the scent of his skin. Delicious traces of manly effort, to become the best, to be a good soldier, reaches your nose. A desperate need to bite invades you, and so you do.

“Nom” you joke, carving your teeth on his flesh.

An instant growl ripped out of his throat came with your biting. His hands squeezing your waist, pulling you closer to him; shortening the distance -if there is any at all- in between your hips and his crotch.

“What a naughty kitty…” he whispers, sliding his hands down your buttocks until your thighs. Seconds after you are lifted up, surrounding his hips with your legs, clamped at him as he helps you not to fall.

“I can’t help it, even sweaty you smell and taste so good, Kafka-kun” you murmur, biting and kissing more and more. 

A shiver runs through the Kaiju hybrid; those words… the praising, the love, the adoration he is only used to show, it is now being shown at him, by a woman as beautiful as you, as strong and amazing as you.

Kafka needs you, right now, completely naked, all for him. Feral instinct taking over, that’s not exactly from his Kaiju side, but from his most inner, deep, dark desires.

He turns around with you still in arms and kicks open the back door of the van. Absolutely amazed, you realized he has not only became stronger than before in his human form, but the way he acts right now has nothing to do with his usual funny, cute ways.

“Listen, I know you deserve a king-sized bed with every possible luxury in this world. And I promise you’ll have it, but now, love… allow me to make love to you”

“There is no bigger luxury than being yours, Kafka~”

He sighs, loudly and needy, and your lips seal one with the other’s. A passionate kiss, that’s the type of those being censored on movies, takes over. Tongues dancing, wet playing… so lustful, so needy.

Out of breath, he puts you down for some seconds so that he is able to close the doors of the van. Now, both of you are safe to let your inhibitions go free.

Kafka invites you to sit on the van seats, he is aware there isn’t much space, but it is better than the dusty back used for storage. He sits first on the passenger seat and then extends his arms to help you sit on his lap.

“There we go…” he murmurs, sitting you comfortably on top of his crotch, allowing your core to experience how hard he is.

You squirm a little bit on top of him, making him painfully grunt. The way your leggings graze his trousers must be considered both a torture and a pleasure.

You reach for his face, placing each palm on each of his cheeks. Squeezing just a little you pull him closer to your mouth as you bend to reach for his lips.

“Aren’t you the hottest? Aren’t you the best?” you whisper playfully, allowing that man to breath those words in before attacking your lips.

“That’s just a little bit of everything you are, baby” he answers back, praising everything you are. His goddess; the woman he doesn’t even think of standing right by, but always under to kiss her feet.

Surely and dominantly, he pulls down the zipper of your boiler suit. Obsessed, Kafka smirks; how comes you are wearing nothing underneath? You took the anti-kaiju suit and only slipped inside the coveralls?!

“You like what you see?” you purr, brushing his hair back as you watch him get lost into the turgor of your chest.

“Ngh… more than that, babe… I’m obsessed” he grunts, cupping your breasts into his hands to play with them, to take them to his lips, to squeeze them with precise pressure.

Your muscles tense as he begins sucking on your nipples; little bites on one of them while his fingers pinch the free one.

Every window, every glass surface on that van, gets steamed by the heat of your needy bodies. An extra hint of privacy you both didn’t notice for being so into each other’s bodies.

Your muscles tense, and so your hips do as well. You begin jumping, grazing, going back and forth over Kafka’s lap. Over Kafka’s hardness.

His fingers bury on your thighs and ass, helping you go up and specially down; he wants your sex pushed against his sex, as lust blurs his mind and leads the way.

You can feel the twitching underneath you; how desperately those pants get wet, precum stained, probably a mess. You wonder if it’s difficult for him to tame his inner beast, to stop his wild secret to be revealed, to take over the situation… to make you a victim, to be eaten by the monster he hides inside.

And you are getting eaten, but not exactly but his kaiju side. It is him, his humanity that’s desperate…

“Come here, allow me… ngh” his words cut short by unstoppable moaning coming from your continuous humping.

Kafka wants every piece of clothing off your body; like a butterfly gaining his wings, a metamorphosis to turn you into his nymph… naked, exposed, flesh ready to be ripped, tasted, devoured… no! bitten, softly! Think straight Kafka, this is you… not Number 8.

As the suit gets stuck on your hips, your feral lover lifts you up from his lap and deposits you next to him; it is a blessing those vans have one chunky seat joined for both the driver and the passenger side.

Turned to face him, he finally rips the legs part off. Spread wide opened by his big hands, he finally gets ready to taste your dripping core. Soft moonlight filters through steamed windows, shining silvery reflections on your smeared juices.

“Just… how can you be that perfect, love?” he asks, kissing your inner thigh with more than care; Kafka is moved by pure adoration, by pure devotion.

“I’m desperate for you, Kafka…” you moan, curling a chunk of his black hair in between your fingers.

He comes closer, more and more to your hot core. Inhaling your perfume, already gloating at what he is about to feast on.

Your right heel falls on his waist, as he is bent on the seat, to lift your hip enough for him to be comfortable. And you to be, exactly, on a silver platter.

Kafka slides his index from your clit to your entrance, as his lips purse and fall on your whole core. He sucks; using his tongue while he does to wander the ups and downs of your sexual lands.

Gripped to the steering wheel, your nails carve marks on the leather material as your hips lift even further. His mouth gets glued to your femininity; getting his chin completely messed up with your juices, and probably the tip of his nose as well.

His index, that soon also gets accompanied by his middle finger, are also inside you. Pumping, going in and out, in beckoning motions hitting your inner walls.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna mess the van- you- Kafka you do it so well- ngh…” you moan, pulling his hair to lift his face off your sex.

“Do it; I’ll clean it up” he mutters, cleaning from your arousal elixirs the commissure of his mouth with the tip of his tongue.  

You giggle; pulling him to top you completely.

“Shush, I want your dick inside of me…” you whisper, reaching for his now aching, desperate, about to burst bulge. “But first, I’d like to taste it… I’d like to feel the heat of it on my throat”

Detrimental for his mental health, those words were. If he still had some self-control, he had now lost it.

It was enough with your skilful hands to unbuckle the belt holding his pants up; a single swift motion freed him from that clothing jail. Toes to the rim of a completely messed up underwear, also enough to pull it down until strong thighs.

The perfect anatomy this man holds; the slight bump of his belly, so kissable, so deliciously tempting you to fall for deep maternal instincts… because he looks so much like the man you would love to give a child to.

“Let me give you pleasure, love. I – don’-“ he wants to argue, perhaps, on who deserves more than him. But you aren’t allowing it; if there is someone in this world who deserves to be praised and bathed in the most exquisite delights is none but him.

“Shh…” you giggle, surrounding his sex with your palm. There is something special on touching a man from underneath, with pumping motions coming in and out towards you; Kafka’s thighs begin to tremble, muscles spasming as your jerking off delight goes faster, increasing rhythm, increasing pleasure.

Slowly, but surely, you help him to sit back again. His forearm landing on top of his eyes, covering them, while his head gets thrown back.

You keep on pumping, up and down, with a palm coated in precum; with fingers drizzled as well. Kafka’s grunts and moans are like music to your ears, and now the tip of his dick is also a delight for your lips.

A stream of clear arousal forms in between the tip of your tongue and his purplish sex; Kafka’s eyes fix on it as you take some air to get ready to swallow his shaft entirely again.

“Babe… I won’t be able to hold…. Much longer” he grunts, trying to resist the urge to bury your head against his crotch.

Your eyes, teary from the many thrusts against your throat, meet his turquoise ones. Concupiscent look in yours, a frown tinted in depravity; like a demon, like a succubus, inviting that pure heart to sin.

“No, fuck it. Come here” he exclaims, taking the reins back again. He detaches you from his sex, helping you to straddle on top of him once again.

He hugs you, close enough to trap his hardness in between him and against your lower belly. A mess creating on your stomach, anticipating how warm it will feel once deep inside.

“I love you, my goddess” “I love you more, babe”

Almost without even trying and with a simple motion, his tip is already penetrating you. His chin, resting on your chest, right in the middle of your breasts. Pleading, and still dominant, he looks up at you. Your arms, pinned on the small of your back, held by one of his hands.

You begin to move, up and down, desperate. His hips wont let you do all the work by yourself, however. Thrusts destroying your insides, deliciously forcing your walls to spasm and milk his shaft.

Kafka attacks your nipples, out of control fucking you with no mercy. He doesn’t care if half Tachikawa hears your whines. In fact, he actually wants you to scream louder.

“God, you were made for me” he grunts, giving you the last few strikes. He can feel that indeed, your insides, were made for his sex.

You, about to lose control, can barely mumble syllables; Kafka is right, you feel like your insides were made exactly for him…

“Fill me up, love…” “Your wishes are orders, my sweet goddess”

[0-n-1-x]

hii! i just found your blog and it looks so cool! i was wondering since you write for shameless, could i please have some headcanons of carl (perhaps white boy carl but any carl is fine) with a chubby/plus size girlfriend who’s really sweet, nerdy, shy and feminine? like she wears a lot of pinks, pastels, sweaters and bows, basically the exact opposite of what people think carls type is. if you don’t wanna write about the body type that’s totally ok, thank you so much! sorry if i wrote too much😭

WBC!Carl x Cutecore!reader

AHHHH!! I love this idea live opposites attract, by what you described I'm thinking of a cutecore/softie aesthetic (no you did not write to much tysm!!)

link to my masterlist <33

Carl who is initially surprised by your cutecore aesthetic, with your pastel colors and cute accessories, but he quickly finds it endearing. He loves how different you are from the Southside vibe and how you bring a burst of color into his life.

Carl who is fiercely protective of you, especially when he notices people giving you judgmental looks. He’s always ready to defend you, whether it's with his words or with his fists, and he makes it clear that anyone who disrespects you will have to answer to him (which isn't always as intimidating as he thinks but you patch him up with kisses for trying)

Carl who is surprisingly good at giving you compliments. He loves how confident you are in your style, and he’s always quick to tell you how cute you look, whether it’s in a new outfit or just lounging in your favorite oversized sweater.

Carl who starts to get into the idea of matching accessories with you. It starts with something simple, like wearing a pastel-colored bracelet you gave him, and eventually, he’s rocking a cute charm on his phone or a keychain you picked out for him. When his group calls him out on it, he's like "ok so? I like to be pretty sometimes" because he associates that stuff with your beauty <33

Carl, who being with you brings out his softer side. He might still be tough on the outside, but around you, he’s more willing to let his guard down. He enjoys cuddling with you, playing with your hair, or just holding your hand/waist while you walk around the city.

Carl who admires your confidence and how you own your look. He’s always supportive and encourages you to be yourself, especially when people make rude comments. He loves how unapologetically you embrace your style and body.

Carl who surprises you with small gifts that fit your aesthetic, like a cute plushie, a pastel-colored hoodie, or a pair of earrings with tiny charms (all of which he totally didn't steal). He likes seeing your face light up when he gets it just right.

Carl who loves showing you off to his friends, especially because you’re so different from anyone he’s ever dated. He’s proud to be with you and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. If anyone gives him a hard time, he just shrugs it off because he knows he’s lucky to have you.

Carl who is always there to support you, whether you’re dealing with body image issues or just having a bad day. He listens when you need to vent, and he’s quick to remind you how amazing you are, inside and out.

Carl who loves finding common ground with you. Whether it’s bonding over a shared love of certain music or discovering new hobbies together, he enjoys learning more about your world and introducing you to his. <33

[smuttyaf]

5sos Masterlist

✰ - most popular | ★ - series | 𐙚 - my personal favourites

hii! i no longer write for them anymore but these are all my oneshots and edits. they are veryyy old and definitely show cases my writing progression! (lol)

i apologize for any misuse of words, punction and grammar

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

how did you? | wc; 1k

calum sneaks into your room. fluff.

i'll be good | 3k

calum cheats on you, yet you keep running back. | part 2 | part 3 |

complete | 2k

calum is your body guard, you both are in a secret relationship because you are model but also a royal princess. | part 2 |

reflecting | 1k

calum and you make a trip to the bathroom.

secrets | 2k

calum eavesdrop on your conversation.

change your mind | 5k ✰

calum is the typical fratboy who wants to change your mind about him.

worked up | 1k

calum helps you relax after focusing on school too much.

fast learner | 3k 𐙚 ✰

you give calum head for the first time.

interruption | 2k 𐙚 ✰

you’re the wife of calum hood who is one the leaders of a mafia ring. | part 2 |

future | 4k 𐙚

calum’s life with y/n as a woc.

shameless | 3.7k 𐙚

calum wants someone to walk in.

vacation | 9.2k

your mom sends you off on vacation where you meet calum.

southside serpent | 5.8k 𐙚

calum invites himself over so you can help him study.

𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

enamoured | incomplete ★

in an alternate universe, luke buys aurora palvin and falls in love with her.

i'm sorry | 2k

luke makes it up to you after coming home late.

help | 3k ✰

in luke’s pov, he tutors y/n who was plotting all along.

angel | 4k

in luke’s pov, he falls for his new neighbour.

diamonds & gold | 3k

in luke’s pov, he’s protects y/n from the guy harassing her in school.

lolita | 3k ✰

in luke’s pov, he lets his step-sister give him a blowjob.

daddy's good girl | 3k

you disobey luke.

space | 3k

luke helping you study for science.

french study session | 5k 𐙚 ✰

you fail your french test and luke offers to correct were you went wrong.

the seven deadly sins: lust | 3.7k

overly religious luke meets you.

mr. hemmings | 5.5k ✰

you fall in love with your neighbour. | part 2 | part 3 |

southside serpent | 5.3k ✰

luke won’t stop bothering you.

heaven sent | 5.1k

you don’t want luke to leave. cmbrn inspired.

𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧

my little gift | 2k

ashton unwraps you in front of the fireplace.

silent | 3k 𐙚

ashton makes you wear a remote vibrator during class.

office escapades | 3k 𐙚

ashton admits he has feelings for his coworker. gymteacher!ash

southside serpent | 4.8k 𐙚

ashton is your childhood bestfriend who always had a thing for you.

𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝

confused | 2k

michael falls in love with you, but you only know french.

your day | 548

michael eats you out for your birthday.

unusual friendship | 3.4k

you want to try something new with your friend.

forbidden love | 4k

demigod!michael is in a relationship with you.

𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

he finds out you slept with another band member. | part 2 |

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬

appreciation post ( this is so bad lmfao )

au; cal & his girlfriend

au; college cal

au; ceo luke

wink ( this is really terrible too )

why don't you? 𐙚

[auroralwriting]

illicit affairs

chapter one

biker!bucky barnes x stark!reader (turf war au)

miss stark begins to have doubts about her "family."

chapter two | series masterlist

warnings: violence, language, small age gap (6~ years), angst, arguing, drinking, overall crime and gang stuff, sort of enemies to lovers

Back before The Fallout, as many outsiders dubbed it, The Avengers were a tight knit group of friends in New York who were founded to change the look of "gangs," as some called them. However, not long after its beginning, its end came just as fast.

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, the pivotal members, just couldn't decide on how The Avengers should be ran. So, they split up almost equally into two groups, each taking a part of the city to call their own.

The Northside Stark Syndicates (aka Queens) was now made up of James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Paul Bettany, who simply was nicknamed by everyone as "Vision," Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, and his little sister.

The Southside Avengers (Brooklyn), who kept the original name, included Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, and Bucky Barnes.

In the previous years, Tony had kept you out of the original Avengers due to your younger, more innocent age. Now, however, in your early twenties, Tony was quick to introduce you to the life you were somewhat protected from.

"I'm telling you," Clint whined, "they gave us a look."

Vision raised an eyebrow, "I highly doubt they gave us a look. I mean, were the biggest crime unit in the city." Oh, yeah, was it mentioned that nowadays the gangs were not made to change the look of gangs? "Plus, if they really gave us a look, we all would have seen it."

You sat on your chair, scrolling through you phone bored out of your mind. Honestly, who gives a shit if someone gives a look? You surely didn't care, and neither did Bruce.

"I really don'y think it matters anyways," Bruce commented. "If they do it again, we'll just beat their asses.

"I'm gonna check it out, it's worth it." Tony decided, clapping his hands. "And for the love of god, can we stop saying the bad words around the child?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not a kid, Tony. I take care of myself."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony waved you off. "I'm gonna go check it out. Let's go partying after."

Rhodey gave an obnoxiously loud sigh, "I don't want to party, I just want to chill and drink. We've been partying almost every night this week. Can't we just go to some bar, watch some tv, and drink?"

"All in vote of drinking at a bar?" Clint asked as everyone raised their hands. "It's settled then."

"You're all such losers," Tony moaned. "I need new friends, seriously, you're all so fuckin' lame." Tony grabbed his knife and shoved it in his pocket. "Happy told me about this new bar, Tito's. Let's try there."

Vision looked to Tony with a confused look, "Isn't that almost on the South?"

The room got tense as Tony stared blankly at Vision. "Almost. It's like, right in the middle. We'll be fine." Infamous last words.

"This place isn't so bad," Rhodey said as the group walked in. You felt eyes on you; that happened wherever you went. "It's casual, kind of relaxing."

The six of you got seats at the bar as you all ordered your drinks. "It's alright," Tony shrugged, "Not the same as a club, but not bad." His face was a little more blue than a couple of hours ago. It was clear he roughed up those guys from earlier.

"Oh my god, Tony, give up the clubbing idea." Clint grumbled.

You took a sip of your drink as the room became oddly silent. Your eyes fell to the door. Oh, shit. In walked The Avengers, whose eyes all fell on your group just as quick as it took for your friends to notice them as well. The stares were brutal as they made their way to a booth, Steve's eyes never left Tony's. Tony's never left Steve. It was an awkward tension. Soon, a quiet chatter, more quiet than before, fell upon the bar again.

"Maybe we should just leave," You muttered softly.

"I agree, I'm not liking this tension. Also, Romanoff won't stop staring at me." Clint sighed. The two of them used to be tight, almost tighter than any other duos in the old group. It was clear their tension was wild.

Tony shook his head, "No, we were here first." Your eyes fell back to the group. It only took a moment before Sam nudged Steve, who stared right back at you. The rest of the group followed suit as you felt yourself being turned around. "Stop that, don't look at them."

"But we were before," You protested.

"And that's not now, so stop." Tony replied as you gave a small sigh.

After a few minutes, it wasn't hard to hear mumbles from the table. The only words you could clearly understand were Tony, unsuitable, and fucker.

That was all it took for Tony to jump off his chair and make his way to the booth. You found Clint's eyes, who looked just as shocked as you. The rest of you scrambled to follow.

"Don't you dare talk about me," Tony sneered, grabbing hold of Steve's collar.

Steve only smirked, "Can't take the hits to your ego?"

Vision put his hand on Tony's arm, "Let's just go, man." It hadn't been long since Tony and Steve had it out last, and that left them both bloody and blue with new marks in their records. "Let's go clubbing."

"No, I want to know what this shit-face said about me." Tony snarled, "So tell me, what'd you say?"

"Let go of him, Stark." Sam warned. "We don't want any problems tonight."

Clint kept you almost hidden behind him. While you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, you were still young. The youngest of both groups, actually. You were freshly twenty-two, Wanda was only twenty-four, but she'd been in this business much longer than you had.

"Well we're gonna have some if Rogers doesn't open his mouth." Tony responded.

"You wanna add some more blue to that face of yours?" Bucky chimed in. That was enough to break the camels back. It was no secret that if there was anyone Tony hated more than Steve, it was his best bud, Bucky. Bucky used to be a part of the mafia out on the west coast. In some off handed way, he was the reason your parents got themselves killed. Even if it wasn't Bucky's hands, Tony saw it as such. Deep down, you knew that wasn't his intentions.

Tony's fist was nearly about to hit Steve's face as you jumped forward, letting it hit your palm. The pain that shot through your hand made you wince as you tried to push Tony's hand back. "Tony, stop it. We're leaving now." Tony gave one last dark look to Steve as he turned on his heel, walking away with Bruce and Rhodey close behind him.

"Stark," Clint muttered as he grabbed your hand. "Let's go wrap this up." Vision was quick to move your arm close to your chest as his arm wrapped around you, guiding you away from The Avengers.

As you three walked away, you turned your head to see them staring at you three. No, they were just staring at you.

Back at the table, Wanda's eyebrows furrowed. "Are you okay?" She asked Steve with concern.

"I'm fine," Steve muttered, unable to peel his eyes from you.

"What?" Sam asked, noticing his lingering stare as the three of you exited the bar.

Steve shook his head, "She just took a full blown punch," He muttered under his breath.

"Probably broke her hand doing so," Natasha chimed in. "Did you see the power in that punch? She had to have at least sprained it."

Wanda screwed her face, "And Tony didn't even care. Didn't even give her a second glance."

A low hum came from Steve, "Did anyone ever meet her?" A collective head shake came from the booth.

“Didn’t Stark keep her locked away like Rapunzel?” Natasha asked, her curiosity officially peaked. “I don’t even really remember him mentioning her, besides the fact that he had a sister and she was younger.”

“I think he said she lived with their parents at the time,” Sam thoughtfully answered. “Out on the west coast. She moved here after they died, I think.”

Bucky spoke up, “But why’d she do that? She had no reason to take a hit for Steve.”

“Maybe she’s the only level headed person there,” Sam chuckled.

“Not well enough to keep them out of the mafia’s eyes,” Steve replied. “Stark’s got their attention, at least for now.”

Nat clicked her tongue, “He probably wants their help to get rid of us.”

With a small nod, Steve chided, “Which he won’t succeed in.”

“Can you bend your fingers? Move your wrist?” Clint asked carefully as Vision finished wrapping your hand. It hurt like absolute hell. It had to be sprained, maybe even broken.

You gave a hesitant reply as you tried to bend your fingers. “It hurts too much,” You shook your head. “I’m just gonna let it rest for now. I’ll try again soon. Thanks,” You mused to Vision as he gave a small smile, walking away with the medical kit.

“We need to get them back.” Tony said as he entered the room. “Rogers can’t pull some shitty stunt like that.”

Clint sighed, “Why don’t we just drop it for now? I thought the plan was to get the Asgardian Mafia to help us run them out, not kill them.”

“Killing them sounds wonderful,” Tony almost sang as he sat down. After a moment, he eyed your hand. “Hey, how’s that hand?”

You rolled your eyes, “Not great, thanks to you”

Tony’s face fell, “Hey, you shouldn’t have blocked my punch!” Tony angrily responded.

“You shouldn’t have started a fight in the middle of some bar we’ve never been to!” You argued in response. “It was stupid and it was reckless.”

“I’m gonna get the Hydra boys to fuck with them a little,” Rhodey announced from his spot on the couch where he was silently observing. “Maybe let them fuck ‘em up a bit.”

The Hydra boys were no good around here. They weren’t necessarily a gang, nor mafia. Maybe at one point they were, but now they were now just asses who loved to put their noses where they didn’t belong. The south had their own, too, called Shield. They were known to be more tolerable, less willing to do whatever anyone wanted. You had to know them to get their help.

“Don’t involve Hydra. They’re no good, really. I think they do more than they say they do.” Vision called out from the bathroom where he was putting away the medical kit.

“Then I’ll call The Guardians,” Rhodey shrugged. “They’ll do anything for an extra buck.”

Tony shrugged, “Fine with me, Quill’ll fuck them up really good. Make sure they all bleed, and tell Quill to get it on photo.” You got nervous at his words. Sure, tensions had been high lately, but it had never been this bad before.

Tony’s words made you reconsider everything that had been happening. Things were getting too serious too fast. Even worse, Tony no longer listened to your warnings. He was getting angrier by the second. Deep down, you knew things needed to change, and that started with helping the other side to gain some trust.

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

Enemies of the Southside.

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

A/N #1: This is a little different from what I’m used to writing, so please, go easy on me haha also there are some warnings further down so please check them out and if you are uncomfortable with what is mentioned, I advise you not to read.

A/N #2: I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :)

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, blood, a knife, and choking. If you are not comfortable with any of these things, PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED.

Translation: “Sestra.” Sister.

Word count: 2,171.

Masterlist.

Being part of the Southside you knew not to wander deserted streets only illuminated by the moonlight, alone. But going home from your job required you to do such, and most times you weren’t worried, because sporting the leather jacket that you did gave you a sense of power that helped ease your mind.

But this night felt different.

This night you couldn’t help but feel like someone was following you, the realization causing a chill to run down your spine.

Cautiously picking up your pace, you make it about half way through the alley that leads you home, when you hear a voice suddenly whisper, “I’m sorry,” and you feel pairs of hands grab at your arms and legs, pushing at you as they pin you to a wall.

“Whoa, what the fuck! Let me go!” You shout as you squirm, trying to get out of the tight hold your are in. “Get the hell off me!” You say and continue squirming, until you feel a hand tightly squeeze around your throat. “Pietro?” You whisper, voice breaking slightly.

Pietro was your best friend that pledged allegiance to the Southside’s biggest gang when you were 15, he was one of the few people that initiated with you.

Which is why you’re so stunned to see him there, a black hoodie on his head and a pair of black gloves on his hands to match.

As your eyes dart around your perpetrators, you recognize a few more faces that you initiated with or you were once very close with and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes, causing Pietro to look at everything except you.

But once you manage to make eye contact with the silver haired boy you can see that your old best friend wants to do anything but hurt you and knowing firsthand how severe the consequences can be if he declines hurting you, you give him a slight nod as if to say, it’s okay.

Instantly regretting your decision when you see your ex-lover come out of the shadows, a blade in her hand.

“Hey! Wait, wait. No, no!” You scream, kicking your legs as hard you can to no avail, thinking you were going to endure at least a simple beating. Realizing a little too late that was not the case.

“Hold her tight,” Vision grits, hands tightening on your legs, and once they manage to subdue you he gives Wanda the command, “now go ahead Wanda, cut! Take off that damn disgracing tattoo!” He all but growls and your eyes widen as you realize what is about to actually happen.

As Wanda begins slowly making her way towards you, she makes eye contact with you and the green eyes that stare back at you are full of pain and despair, and your heartbreaks in your chest before the blade that she wields starts cutting into your skin as a way to remove the tattoo you sport on your right arm that you got when you were initiated into the Southside, a tattoo that represented what gang you were in.

“Please, stop!” You yell at the top of your lungs, your scream piercing the air.

A scream so chilling it would probably make a murderer rethink a killing, a scream so piercing it could make anyone go deaf.

But Wanda doesn’t stop, she can’t stop, even as her entire being protests she continues slicing. She continues slicing until the art you were sporting is off your arm and with that they let you go, your limp body falling to the ground with a harsh thud.

Thinking you’re dead you hear their footsteps as they run away once they’re done with you, and as you’re lying there losing consciousness, you hear someone crying.

“I’m so sorry, my love” the voice sobs, “I didn’t want to hurt you. I really didn’t, but I had to,” they say and you feel a hand softly caress your face.

“Wanda, please, we need to go, they’re going to come back to make sure she’s dead if we don’t leave right now,” another voice says.

“She’s dying now Piet, she is losing way too much blood! If we leave her here like this I won’t be able to live with myself if she dies,” the brunette sobs and Pietro quickly jumps into action, ripping a part of your shirt off to make a makeshift tourniquet to put around your arm to temporarily stop the bleeding.

“There Wanda, it’s the best I can do,” your old best friend says softly.

“She’s going to hate me Piet,” the brunette says affectedly.

“I know sestra, I know, she’ll hate us both,” he sighs sadly. “But we knew how grave the stakes could be when we pledged allegiance to the Northside, there is nothing we can do now but move forward. She may never understand why we did what we did, but she knows what these obligations mean to us, she too has her own.”

Wanda nods slightly, tears pouring down her face as she continues the caresses on your face a little while longer before completely pulling away, “I know she’ll understand why this happened, but by doing this to her, we are literally declaring war on the Southside P. There will definitely be hell to pay. I just hope she’s not in the crossfire, I’ve done enough damage today, I’d hate to see her get hurt even more than what has happened right now. I still love her you know,” you hear Wanda say.

“Well if you love her and still care about her then please, let’s go,” the silver haired boy pleads, “they’re going to get suspicious as to why we’re not with them and they’ll come back Wanda, they will, and if they see she’s still alive they might actually kill her, so we really need to go,” Pietro says anxiously.

Those being the last words you hear before their footsteps depart.

As you lay there still losing significant amounts of blood even with the tourniquet on your arm, you black out for a few minutes. Only waking up when you hear more footsteps making their way towards you and you begin dragging yourself on the ground, afraid that the Northsiders have come back to make sure you’re dead or that they’re back to do their job and actually kill you.

But when you hear a familiar voice call out your name, you know you're slightly safe and it isn't until you feel arms wrap around your weak frame and you take in the scent of a familiar cologne that you allow yourself to relax.

“Help! Nat, Steve, Tony! Please get in here and help!” A panicked Bucky yells, as he and Sam set you down on a nearby table, and in come the rest of the Southside’s strongest gang.

“Holy fuck, what happened?” You hear Yelena ask.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Kate gasps.

“Give her space,” Natasha and Steve yell.

“Jesus Christ,” Tony says entering the room, “what in the hell happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” Bucky stutters, his hands shaking as he sees them full of your blood, “Sam and I were coming back home from the bar when we saw her bleeding out on the floor, we picked her up and came here as soon as possible,” the tall man says.

“Okay, it’s okay, calm down. Let me get a good look at her and I’ll call you guys back in a bit.” Steve says, handing the man a towel as they all walk out of the room.

While in the other room Kate and Yelena can’t stop their pacing due to the extreme worry they feel about not knowing your state. As the rest of the group sit and wait to be called in by their other friends and after several minutes of waiting Steve comes into the room.

“Hey guys, she’s stable, whoever put that makeshift tourniquet on her basically saved her life. You guys are more than welcome to come in and see her,” he says and as soon as the words leave his mouth all at once they go inside the room in which you are in.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Natasha whispers as she removes sweaty hair out of your eyes.

“Hey Natty,” you smile softly.

“Doll, what happened?” Bucky questions.

“It was the Northside,” you breathe and you swear you can see the moment everyone goes tense.

“Who exactly?” Sam asks angrily.

“I-I didn’t see their faces, it was too dark. I was just able to see their j-jackets,” you stutter.

“Bullshit Y/N!” Clint says, calling you out immediately, “who was it?”

“I-It was... Vision, Peter, America, and MJ,” you begin, listing off the names of the people that hurt you, but hesitating on mentioning two other names.

“And who else Y/N/N?” Yelena asks, eyes narrowing as she studies you, “I know you're holding back. Who else was there? Also, don’t even think about lying, we know you,” the girl says and you take in a deep breath.

“Please, don't make me do this," you whisper softly, voice full of emotion.

"Who else hurt you sweetie? We need to know, because they need to pay for what they did," Natasha whispers just as soft, her hand holding your own tenderly.

"Nat please, I love her," you say, tears rolling down your cheeks but nevertheless providing the names they are looking for, "Wanda. Wanda and Pietro also did this to me,” you say as you cast your eyes downward in shame and fear.

“Son of a bitch!” Yelena yells, kicking a nearby stool down, “are you kidding me?! The Maximoff twins did this you?! Oh, they are dead! Do you hear me? They are so dead!” She says, an anger welling in her eyes like you've never seen before.

“I’m with Yelena, they are dead! They want to mess with one of our own, I say we all go over there and kick their asses! Because this means war!” Kate says and everyone except Steve and Tony nod their head.

“No,” Steve begins, “we can’t do that,” the older man says calmly.

“What the hell do you mean Steve! So what? We’re just supposed to roll over and let this happen?” Bucky questions angrily.

“No Buck, we are not going to roll over. We are going to proceed with caution,” Steve continues just as calmly.

“Like hell! If we don’t do something now, they are going to think we are weak, and we are not weak! We can’t let them think we don’t care enough about our members to lie down and take this attack!” Clint yells and the rest of the gang start agreeing.

“Silence!” Tony yells, causing the members to seize their uproar, “Steve is right, we must proceed with caution. It is not ideal, I know, but we must,” he says. “I promise you, we will get our revenge. This heinous act of violence against the kid hurts us just as much as it hurts you. We are a family, we watch after each other so I will make sure we sort this out. But for now, our main priority is Y/N's health, we are so lucky she is here with us right now, so please, all of you go get some rest. It has been an emotional night. But I ask you, reserve this anger, reserve it for when we want to take action against these cowards.”

“As much as I hate to admit it," Natasha begins, "they're right. We are not thinking straight. We are thinking irrationally because we are angry, rightfully so. But we need a proper course of action so we can execute our plans, so for now let’s let Y/N rest, she’s endured enough tonight, goodnight.” Natasha says with finality and the gang huff but nonetheless oblige.

Once all but the three founding members have left, you look to Natasha, Steve and Tony, gratefully. “Thank you guys, for getting them to rationalize, I appreciate it,” you say softly, a small smile making it's way to your face.

“No problem Y/N. But please know, we do not take this attack on you lightly. I know you still love Wanda and care for Pietro, but this act of violence warrants a war, so be prepared for that. What they did to you today is only the beginning, a warning of what’s to come and I know you have history with the twins, but they knew what it meant when they agreed to do this to you and they will have to pay,” Steve says softly and you nod sadly, “now get some rest kid. We’ll see you tomorrow morning, we’re just so glad you’re okay,” he says a smile gracing his features as Natasha moves forward to place a soft kiss on your forehead and Tony nods at you with a small smile on his face.

Wanda, your ex-lover, now turned enemy has no idea what’s in store for her.

[secret-gallavich]

Shameless Whumptober Masterlist

just a list of all the shameless whump fics i wrote in october

Safety Net

tw suicidal thoughts

Mickey has always been there for Ian, even when he's in Mexico and Ian wants to jump off a bridge.

Solitary Confinement

tw mistreatment of mental illness

Ian’s meds were bound to get out of whack at some point in their prison stay.

Made To Watch

tw implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced child abuse

Ian and Mickey go to a couple’s therapist once a month.

Outnumbered

tw implied/referenced rape/non-con , implied/referenced underage sex , child abuse

Laura Milkovich is 19 years old when she gives birth to her third baby, Mikhailo. It’s the 10th of August in 1994, her husband is in jail and she’s a mother once again

You Said You'd Never Leave

tw suicidal thoughts

Ian comes home from the hospital and Mickey isn't there.

Insomnia

Mickey thought he was just having trouble adjusting to the new surroundings of living in the Westside. He’s not used to the quietness, he’s feeling homesick or the moon is too fucking bright.

Infection

Mickey’s never felt…normal when it comes to Ian. Ian makes him weird and do things he’d never normally do. Like get a tattoo of his name on his chest in prison.

Makeshift Bandages

Mickey hides an injury from Ian while working at the Kash 'N' Grab

Leave Me Alone

tw horror, mistreatment of mental illness, murder, dead dove: do not eat, paranormal, major character death

Ian's convinced something is haunting their apartment. Mickey realises he's telling the truth when it's too late.

Drugging

tw drugged, date rape drug

Mickey’s started going to the club with Ian just to make sure no one takes advantage of him. He lets Ian do his thing, give out lapdances, sweet talk them for some extra cash but he’s always stepping in when they go too far.

Floral Bouquet

tw major character death

Ian passes by a flower shop every day on his morning runs but can't bring himself to go inside.

You Will Regret Touching Them

tw implied/referenced child abuse

S03E06 but it goes differently.

Mickey feels like he’s going to throw up at any second.

He’s got a boy spending the night with him. Not just any boy, Ian. Ian is staying the night and he’s trying to play it casual but he can’t stop glancing over at the red head just to make sure he’s really there.

Don't Move

Mickey is allergic to bees and fucking hates spring

Who's There?

tw thriller, horror

Mickey is home alone and starts hearing noises outside the house.

Storm

tw implied/referenced rape, child abuse, internalised homophobia

Mickey's feeling post S03E06.

The hooker is still here, looking just as scared as he is and putting her purple dress back on under Terry’s watchful eyes. He throws her a bag of coke and she fumbles to catch it. Terry won’t stop glaring at her and Mickey takes it as his chance to look at Ian’s empty spot. He’d taken his clothes, wasn’t sure if Ian was allowed to get changed here or if he left in his boxers.

You Look Awful

tw gay bashing, hatecrime

Ian laughs next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close and Mickey laughs back and turns his body into Ian’s. Adrenaline is running through his body and he feels so fucking good right now, it’s the best high he’s ever had.

Mickey's feelings post coming out

Bloody Knife

Ian wasn’t expecting their little trip back to the Southside to end up like this.

‘This’ being the emergency room because Mickey somehow got himself stabbed.

Borrowed Clothes

tw suicidal thoughts, psych ward

The first 24 hours are the hardest.

It’s full of regret on his own behalf, self-loathing and running thoughts of ‘what if’. What if he had been paying more attention, what if he wasn’t so focused on work, what if Mickey had been a good husband?

Body Modifications

tw implied/referenced child abuse

Mickey's always had a love hate relationship with his knuckle tattoos