#support your local black writers

[cardierreh15]

Annnd we are finished folks! I gots to go in for editing and need some beta reading first but it’s looking good and I think yall gonna like it 🖤

The Lady In Black Dropping Tuesday Jan. 30th, 2024

[brunhielda]

There is so much cool stuff at the library, you don’t even know! Some of the best old black and white films I can’t even find on streaming just EXIST there because some elderly patron left them in their Will.

That’s just how libraries are.

I say as a librarian.

Haven't seen this pointed out yet but do you know what you can do if you run out of shows to watch? Read a book.

Do you know where you can get free books (and movies, audiobooks, and cds)? Public libraries.

Do you know what is currently under attack by many parts of our government and could really use your support? Public libraries.

[madelynraemunson]

— along for the ride ☆

🐃 the tag team (co-writers): @joshlmbrt @swiss-mrs @mediocredreams 🩶

eddie x fem!reader

a/n: reading flight of icarus and finding out eddie is from tennessee REALLY husked my corn 🤠 also, this may or may not have been inspired by the bull fight scene in hoard

cw: daydream p in v sex, riding, eddie gets a hard on watching reader ride, innuendos, play on words

Stamina. Strength. Strategy. Safety. The Four Important S’s when it comes to bull-riding. 

‘Support’ is your unofficial fifth. You’ve generated quite the following after showcasing your riding skills at Whisky Jim’s every Saturday night, the ooohs and aaahs of your spectators filling the air as the spotlight drenches your cute… calculated… perspiring body. 

Bull-riding at the dive bar every weekend has become a favorite hobby of yours. It’s a perfect outlet for all the stress, the rough-and-tough of it all perfectly counterbalancing your slow-as-snails, but somehow busy and draining 9 to 5. Riding gave you something to look forward to.

“Look at her go,” an onlooker coos in admiration. “She’s got life by the goddamn horns.”

You toss your head back, glossy lips parted in excitement as the crowd’s appreciative hoots and whistles filled the air.  You could get used to this. You have gotten used to this.

Even with the world at your feet, things were starting to get boring again. And you are constantly craving something wild, something new. Something or someone that will make like the bull by sweeping you off your feet and taking you out for a spin.

Someone like Eddie Munson, perhaps.

Eddie isn’t sure what drew him… here out of all places. But something about the rowdiness compels him as he climbs out of his van, Halen and into the bar, boots scuffing the hard wooden floor. But the flight-risk metalhead is determined to find out, itching for adventure as he saunters with feigned confidence into the southern saloon. 

He flags down the closest bartender, a country heartthrob of a man with black hair and blue eyes. The Casanaova places a coaster down in front of him as Eddie steps up to the plate. “What’ll ya be havin’?”

“Anything local,” Eddie replies, more of a question, unsure of what exactly is available. “Anything hoppy.”

“Bottle or Tap?” the man follows up after a curt nod, mindlessly running a hand over his thick mustache.

“Tap. Pint, please.”�� 

The bartender gives another nod before disappearing to fulfill Eddie’s request. Meanwhile, the outcast takes this short window of time to look up and down the bar at the different patrons. 

All from different walks of life. But all here for presumably the same reason.Whisky Jim’s is decently packed, but for the most part, the crowd is congregated either in booths, at tables, or in the middle of the floor.

A glass is placed onto the coaster. The same deep country twang effectively regains Eddie’s attention.

“Wanna start a tab, brother?” The older man asks with a polite grin, eyes crinkling up at the sides as he does. 

Eddie offers a polite smile in return.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” 

The bartender studies him intently this time, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“First timer?”

 Eddie clears his throat uneasily, kicking at the peanut casings at his feet to avoid contact with the John Wayne of a man that was in front of him.

“Obvious?” 

The man cackles at Eddie, the slight patronization of the old-timer’s demeanor making him want to evaporate. But the amused blue eyes and downturned smile indicates it’s all in good fun, much like his uncle Wayne who always liked giving him a hard time whenever he made himself too small. 

“Son, you couldn’t stick out further if you were a dog’s balls.” 

A fellow bartender laughs at the man’s remark. Then Eddie joins in. It was pretty funny. 

“You just don’t really look like the kind to be into square dancin’, is all,” the bartender remarks as he narrows his eyes at Eddie. Eddie shrugs and takes a sip of his beer, slightly wincing as the first sip hits him.

“Well, you’re not wrong. Just thought I’d explore a bit outside of my usual.” 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Eddie.”

“Greg.” The bartender gives him his hand to shake. “You from around here or you comin’ from outta town?” 

“Hawkins.” 

“Not too far from home then. And it seems you came on a good night.” 

And as if on cue, the crowd towards the middle of the building erupts in cheers. Eddie briefly glances over his shoulder in the general direction before turning back to Greg with a curious head tilt.

“What’s happening?” 

Greg nods his head over in the direction of the crowd.

“Bull Ridin’ Night.”

Your thighs are wrapped around the firm leather seat as you’re whisked around in one fluid motion. You turn to give your rapt audience a wink. The crowd eats up your presence, evident by the adorn kisses they blow your way. You buy into the theatrics, pretending to catch them before putting them in your back pocket for later. It only riles the audience up more.

“They bring that thing out on Saturdays,” Greg explains. “Between the Karaoke Nights and the Hoedowns, Bull Ridin’ is one of the most popular.”

 Eddie tries another glance in that direction, but due to the crowd, he doesn’t have the best view of who is actually riding.

 “You gon’ give it a try?”

 Eddie’s head whips back around to the older man to find a teasing smirk on his face. Eddie shakes his head.

“I… don’t think so.” He chuckles. “I’m not the most balanced or coordinated person.” He admits that with a grimace and another sip of his Hawkins Pale Ale. 

“I’m just teasin’ ya, boy. HEY!” Greg whistles at the bartender next to him. “Who’s up there now?” 

 The coworker throws a quick glance over their shoulder before replying. There’s a bashful smirk when they reply, 

“Who do you think?” 

The crowd erupts again, cheers and whistles alike. Who else gets this kind of crowd engagement? No one else other than you, of course. 

“Looks like my girl is up there breakin’ hearts again.” Greg lets out a soft laugh. 

Eddie gulps as his breathing shallows. A girl? Up there? On that thing?

Eddie, once again, nearly strains his neck trying to get a glimpse of the rider. When he fails, Eddie turns back to the bar, downing the final quarter of his pint, before looking back at Greg.

“Fetch me a bottle for the road, yeah?”

 Greg issues him a chuckle, grabbing the empty glass and handing him a bottle version of that very ale, while Eddie sets off on his curiosity journey to the middle of the floor.

“Boys will be boys.” Greg’s female coworker remarks with sassy pursed lips.

Eddie closes in on the crowd,  slipping through the few empty spaces between the onlookers with half-assed ‘Excuse me’s. Though no one was paying him any mind. And when he settles by the barrier, just a mere two rows behind, he finally gets the perfect view of you.

Eddie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face at the sight of you working the crowd. He watches as you give a practiced flick of your hips to get the crowd going and the enticing jiggle of your breasts under your tight shirt. Drew in Eddie’s eyes like a laser beam. The thin material was stretched taut, giving a hint of the perfect tits underneath as you arched your lower back and thrust your chest forward to keep your balance. 

“Christ,” he exhales sharply, in awe of your natural performance, the boisterous, unpredictable gravity of the machine whirling you around as you wrestle to hold on. 

His eyes drink in the sight of the soft, rounded curve of your ass that peeked out of the bottom of your faded Daisy Duke’s as you lean forward to steady yourself in the saddle.

WHOOSH!

The bull jerks sideways and you flex your thighs and circle your hips in the saddle to keep yourself astride. The plush skin of your upper thighs press tightly against the seat and your upper body sways in rhythm with the bull’s movement. 

You were born to ride.

“That’s how you do it, Indiana!” a spectator hoots in adoration as you cling on for dear life. “That’s how you do it!”

You give a deep roll of your hips to meet the thrust of the machine, causing Eddie to run the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip before sucking in a shaky breath. Your hips… the way they roll… is almost hypnotic, and Eddie’s brown doe eyes can’t help but linger on the sliver of skin that peeks out, black, intricate swirls of cyber-sigilism that tease him slightly. 

Fuck.

“God, she’s so pretty…” he thinks to himself. “And she knows how to ride.”

Eddie’s eyes trail to the white of your knuckles, his own fingers gripping the bottle of his beer when his eyes slide up your arm and land on your face.

The front of his pants start to feel uncomfortably tight. Eddie adjusts himself as discreetly as he could, but even the soft brush of his fingers against the strained denim causes  him to hiss under his breath.

“Ride it, cowgirl!” an audience’s comment centers Eddie once again. “LET ‘EM KNOW!”

The way you matched the bull’s gyrations and anticipated its every move made him weak in the knees, and as he watched you swirl your hips in the saddle like a modern day Annie Oakley he couldn’t help but wish it was him straddled between your shapely thighs instead. 

As Eddie stood there watching, the dull roar of the crowd faded into the background. At that moment it was just you and him. 

In his mind he’s already lassoed you to his bed; and you’re sat astride him like a cowgirl in your saddle, hands splayed on his chest for balance as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. And you’d bite down on your plush lower lip and let out a soft moan as you sank down onto him slowly, taking your time and adjusting to his size. 

“Oh, Eddie,” he could almost hear you purring. “It’s so big.”

And he’d chuckle with false modesty and rub a hand tenderly along your thigh as if to soothe the delicious stretch of his thick girth.Then once you adjusted, you’d move, meeting each unpredictable roll of his hips with your own as you mastered the rhythm of your very own long-haired bucking bronco.

And he’d be gripping you tight with each deep thrust, pistoning, plowing himself into you while watching his cock disappear into your slick pussy over and over with each forceful snap of his hips. And with every strained mewl he milks out of you he’d press you down by the hips and drill into you further, your weak cunt just about ready to tap out on top of him. This handsome bull’s sure a challenge, you’d be thinking to yourself. Eddie is a ride you wouldn’t be able to survive.

———

The crowd disperses when the show is over. Eddie stands a bit straighter when you finally leave the middle of the floor, eyes darting towards the plush smirk that your soft lips create. If it’s even possible, he thinks you look even more heavenly. He’s sure you don’t even realize what you’re doing to him. 

Little does he know that for you, he’s taken that same effect. You’ve grown so accustomed to everyone here that a new face has captured your attention. And you felt him staring at you, with a gaze so impassioned that you just about almost lost your footing up there. But you pulled it off real well, attempting to shake off the redirection in the form of a dramatic bounce of your tits.

It perplexes you. A man making you that nervous? Up until late, it’s become rather unheard of. You want to know this man and see for yourself what his energy is all about.

Eddie finds himself fixing his appearance when he notices your legs striding over, clearing his throat as his palm slides over the stubble that he had been trying to grow. 

“You know it’s kinda rude to stare the way that you do,” you remark.

“How so?” Eddie challenges. “Everyone else is doing it. What makes me different from everybody?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” you smile at him.

Eddie shifts his weight onto the counter, bringing the bottle up to his lips, taking another gulp. His eyes dart everywhere -- the metal buckle of your belt, the skin that was shiny with dried sweat, your hands that tap at the sticky countertop of the bar, the way your lips wrap around the tip of your bottle and the liquid that slips out and down your chin that he greedily wanted to tongue away. 

“Funny,” you observe. “I’m here every Saturday and I’ve never once seen your face.”

He thinks he’s looking over at an angel, really, heart beating faster when he realizes it’s him that you’d made an effort to come up to. Made an effort to get to know.

“Interesting that you saw me.”

“I see everything from up there. And you’re a newcomer, I can tell. Sticking out like a sore thumb in the best way.”

You invite him into your energy, closing up the distance between the two of you with a graceful stride in his direction.

“You were amazing,” Eddie says to you. “Really know how to put on a show, cowgirl.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eddie insists. “Spotlight loves you. Killer crowd engagement as well.”

“You a performer too?”

“Depends who’s asking.”

“Mmm, I don’t know…” you sigh dreamily. “Just a fellow performer lookin’ for some tips and pointers.”

Not much needs to be said to know that you two ache for each other, judging by how the intimate dive bar grows non-existent for as long as you two are captured in the forcefield of each other. Eddie thinks that there would be absolutely nothing better than giving you some pointers, his hand leaving the bottle, some of the liquid sloshing around the precipitating glass, heart pounding in his ears as he nods quickly. One rowdy night wouldn’t hurt anybody, he thinks to himself. And it’s very apparent that, the stunner that is you, wants take him for a spin.

“So what do you say, cowboy?” you cock an eyebrow at him. “Why don’t we ride off into the sunset, just you and me?”

dividers by: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more @saradika @mikeykuns

[justauthoring]

naturally [3].

you fit into their little family perfectly - naturally → in which you meet satoru gojo

a/n: yall this one was a blast to write.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader, yuji itadori x f!reader (platonic), satosugu as well!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

I won’t be able to pick up Yuji today from daycare, do you mind heading there alone?

No worries at all, Kento. You know I don’t mind. Is everything okay?

Yes. My boss is being particularly pushy about getting this project done by today. I’m sorry to leave you alone.

I’ll be fine. But please don’t push yourself too hard, love. 

Thank you, Y/N. I’ll try not to.

I’ll make your favourite for dinner, okay? Love you.

That would be wonderful, dear. I love you too.

When you’d received the text from Nanami, you hadn’t thought anything of it. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked you to pick up Yuji, and that was way before the two of you ever were in a relationship. It hadn’t been much of a hassle then, given that you lived next door to him but it was even less of a worry now since you’d moved in with Nanami and Yuji into their apartment. Often, the two of you would pick up Yuji together and since you’d started joining Nanami, Yuji had been ecstatic about the whole thing that you made it a goal to go every day.

You’d already been out doing some errands, just about to make your way to the school with the assumption that Nanami would meet you there, when you’d gotten his text. You’d shrugged the whole situation off, mentally thankful you’d gotten all the necessary ingredients for Nanami’s favourite dinner when you’d grabbed groceries with a light frown at the realization of how hard Nanami’s office had been pushing him recently. Luckily it was the end of the week and you could spend the weekend making sure he got the rest he definitely deserved.

Your walk to Yuji’s daycare isn’t long at all and your thoughts are filled with the wonderful and loving family you’ve found yourself. None of it was in your plans for your life but you couldn’t deny how incredibly happy you were. Yuji was an absolute bundle of joy that you loved like your own son, and Nanami was the best boyfriend you could ask for – understanding, loyal, and loving. He checked off any and all boxes that may exist and made you incredibly happy.

You wouldn’t trade any of it.

“Y/N/N!”

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the familiar sound of Yuji’s voice. You blink, not having even realized you’d reached the daycare until a blob of pink comes crashing towards you, slamming right into your legs as Yuji hugs you as best he can with his small arms, peering up at you with bright, shining eyes. You smile at the sight, crouching down to his level as you distantly catch his teacher’s eye and offer a smile when she waves at you, before putting your full attention on Yuji.

“Hi, Yuji-kun,” you giggle, ruffling his hair. You notice his eyes drift past you, and are quick to explain. “Your father is stuck at work for a bit but I was thinking me and you could make his favourite dinner together, how does that sound?” 

Yuji beams; “perfect!”

You let out a laugh, nodding your head. “How was your day?”

“Amazing!” Yuji practically cheers, and you blink slightly at the pure excitement in his voice. Suddenly, he’s letting go of your leg to take your hand in his own, his grip quite tight for such a small child as he starts pulling. “I want you to meet my friend, Y/N/N. His name is Megumi!”

You internally laugh at Yuji’s short-attention span. You’d thought he’d be more disappointed about Nanami not being able to show up, but as usual, the boy was effortlessly positive and didn’t seem to let himself get phased by many things.

That, or he was just happy as long as one of you came.

“Okay–just, slow down a little, Yuji, I–”

“MEGUMI!”

Your lips part as Yuji practically bellows the name, eyes drifting ahead of yourself to the direction Yuji’s yanking you towards. You see a small boy, just slightly taller than Yuji, with black, spiky hair (it’s quite amazing actually), in a similar uniform as Yuji but he looks a lot more neat and put-together than Yuji does–even though every morning, you make sure Yuji leaves with his buttons all done and his collar straight, something or another is amiss every time you come to pick him up.

The boy glances back at the call of his name, seemingly unphased by how loud Yuji was, and it’s then you notice the man standing next to him.

He’s tall. Very tall. He’s got startlingly white hair that falls effortlessly around his head, shaping his face perfectly and he’s wearing a pair of black sunglasses but yet as his eyes drift in the direction of you and Yuji, it still feels like he’s staring directly into you.

“Y/N/N! Y/N/N! This is Megumi,” Yuji tugs at your hands and you pull your eyes away from the man, moving to smile down at Megumi. “Megumi, this is Y/N/N. The one I was talking about.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Megumi,” you offer gently, smiling softly down at the boy.

Meeting your eyes, you’re shocked as Megumi bows, offering a small ‘nice to meet you’. You don’t think you’ve met such a polite young boy, even if he was a little quiet. It’s funny, you think, how Yuji could’ve made such a friend–someone so quiet and calm compared to your loud and boisterous boy. But then again, didn’t they say opposites attract?

“I certainly don’t know where he got that from.”

You glance up as the man with white-hair speaks up, grinning at you as he steps forward, ruffling Megumi’s hair. The boy instantly frowns as he does, batting the man’s hands away as he he grumbles to himself all whilst Yuji giggles, moving to point out Megumi’s frown and the two of them fall into a chatter amongst themselves as the man with white-hair sticks his own out towards you.

“Satoru Gojo,” the man introduces, “and you must be the famous Y/N Yuji keeps telling me about.”

Slowly, you let your hand fall in his, nodding. “Yes, I, um… I’m Kento’s–”

“Wife,” Gojo cuts off, smirking. “Yes, I actually work with your husband.”

Your eyes widen, cheeks burning red; “oh… oh no! We’re just dating, not… we’re not married, Gojo-san.”

“Ah, please, call me Satoru,” he brushes off, “and sorry. I just assumed Nanami would’ve put a ring on you already with the way he talks about you. He’s absolutely smitten.”

Your cheeks stay flushed, glancing at your feet. “Ah, well… you know…” desperate for the conversation to change, you glance back up at him. “Are you Megumi’s father?” You only ask because the two of them don’t really look all that related–of course, that didn’t mean much.

Still, it was a shift in conversation.

“Not biologically, no,” Gojo nods, “but I do take care of him.”

“Barely.” Megumi cuts in, glowering at the man.

You press a hand to your mouth to stifle your laughter–for such a young boy, he was rather quick-witted.

Gojo sticks his tongue out at the boy, and you find yourself unable to stop the giggle that leaves your lips at the sight. They were a rather odd pair, weren’t they? 

Gojo glances at you as you giggle and your eyes widen.

“Oh, my apologies, Satoru-san! It’s just–”

“No need to apologize,” he waves you off, stepping towards you. “Now, where is Nanami?”

“Oh, he had to stay at work to finish something up. Speaking of, Yuji and I should be heading home. We’ve got to start making dinner. But it was lovely–”

A huge gasp cuts you off. You blink, glancing down at Yuji who stares up at you with an expression like he’s come up with the best thing in the entire world.

“Y/N/N! Can Megumi and Gojo-san stay for dinner?”

-

After a long and grueling day, Nanami is more than excited to come home to you and his son and have a nice, quiet, relaxing evening.

At least, that was the plan.

Until he sees Gojo Satoru standing in his living room.

“What the hell are you doing here.”

He ignores his rather sharp language in front of the children. Never, ever has he ever wanted to see Gojo standing in his apartment, in his living room and least of all, has he ever wanted Gojo to be anywhere near you–talking with you, making you laugh, offering to help you with dinner–any of it.

Your wide eyes fall on Nanami the second you hear his voice, and Nanami feels a flash of guilt when he sees the panicked look in your eyes.

Gojo just beams. “Nanami! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Yuji comes bounding towards Nanami, hugging his father tightly and Nanami, despite the annoyance standing in front of him, of course returns the hug to his son, as Yuji beams up at him; “I asked Y/N/N if Megumi and Gojo-san could come for dinner and she said yes!”

Nanami’s eyes drift to you then, noticing the way you step towards him nervously. “I hope that’s okay,” you offer quietly and Nanami frowns at the look in your eyes. You look positively worried, and he curses himself silently when he realizes it’s because you think you’ve upset him. “Satoru-san said he was a friend from work and Yuji seemed super excited, so–”

Stepping towards you, Nanami gently pulls himself from Yuji, wrapping his arm around your waist to lean forward and press a kiss against your forehead. “It’s no worries, love. It’s not you I’m annoyed by,” he assures you, smiling down at you before his gaze hardens and he faces Gojo who continues to stand smugly in the living room. “It’s him.”

It’s then you learn that while Gojo may consider them friends, Nanami certainly doesn’t.

At least, not outwardly. You can tell Gojo definitely annoys your boyfriend, but Nanami still tolerates him nonetheless and it’s proven in the way he doesn’t immediately kick Gojo out. 

You also notice how Nanami is particularly clingy the entire night – he sticks by you, as if attached to your hip, constantly offering to help, barely allowing Gojo to step within a few feet of you. Gojo notices, of course, and he uses it to his advantage to constantly tease Nanami but you find you hardly care – Nanami was hardly ever possessive and it made you feel giddy that he was so desperate to make sure Gojo didn’t flirt with you all whilst making sure not to be too overbearing on you or do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

It was a feeling that had you tingling all night.

“The dinner was fantastic, Y/N/N.”

Nanami grunts at the nickname Gojo had decidedly started calling you halfway through dinner, a name he’d picked up from Yuji, but you just smile at the man. Gojo is standing by the door to the apartment, a passed out Megumi in his hands. Yuji’s already been tucked into bed by Nanami twenty minutes ago when the two boys had promptly passed out on the couch together. Gojo had moved to excuse himself shortly after, of course with slight pressure from Nanami, who continued to have his arm around your waist, you tucked into his side as the both of you stood across from Gojo, seeing him and Megumi off.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, leaning into Nanami. “I’m sorry we kept Megumi up so late.”

Gojo shrugs, “nah, it’s fine. Suguru might be a bit upset, but…”

Your brows furrow, “whose Suguru?”

Gojo grins. “My husband.”

Your eyes widen and Nanami shakes his head from next to you; “yet you continue to flirt with my girlfriend.”

“Kento,” you mumble, turning to him embarrassed.

Gojo just laughs; “your girlfriend is very beautiful,” he grins over at you, and you glance down at your feet in embarrassment. “Besides, Suguru knows I love him.” Gojo rolls his eyes at Nanami, before turning back to you. “He’s actually out on a trip with the girls for the weekend. Left yesterday.”

Your lips part; “girls?”

“Yes, Megumi’s sister, Tsumiko, and two other girls, Mimiko and Nanako that we adopted.”

You let out a gasp, “oh my! That’s so wonderful,” you beam up at the man. “The six of you must be so happy.”

Gojo laughs; “I wonder about Megumi sometimes… He didn’t wanna go on the trip, said it would be boring but I think it was because he didn’t wanna miss seeing Yuji at daycare. The two of them are like two peas in a pod.”

Truly, you feel like your heart could melt. Turning to Nanami, you beam at him; “we’ll have to have Megumi over more often then.” Then, turning back to Gojo, you add; “and of course Suguru-san and the girls!”

Nanami frowns, but you don’t see it as Gojo grins back at you; “I’ll make sure to let Suguru know.” He assures, “now, I should go. I think I might’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You glance over at Nanami at that, noticing the frown on his lips and let out a light giggle as you nod at Gojo. With one final goodbye, Nanami opens the door for him, before shutting it the second he’s sure he’s gone. You watch as the man’s shoulders instantly sag the second Gojo’s gone and tilt your head.

“Do you really not like Satoru-san that much?”

His eyes widened; “no… no, it’s not that. I’ve known Gojo for a long time. He’s annoying, but he’s a… friend.” Then, stepping towards you, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just tired.”

His hands fall on your waist, tugging you towards him and you fall into him with ease, letting your head fall on his chest as you hum out softly. “I know. Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ve got it.” Leaning back slightly, you press a kiss to his jaw. “Just get some rest.”

Nanami shakes his head; “no, you already made dinner for me tonight. I can help clean.”

“But–”

“No buts,” he smirks down at you. “I want to help.”

With a moment more of hesitance, you nod. And the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you work to tidy up from dinner. With the two of you, it’s cleaned a lot faster and before you know it, the two of you are already tucked into bed, kitchen clean, clothes swapped for more comfortable attire and feeling ready to pass out completely.

Just as Nanami presses a final kiss to your cheek, arm wrapped around your waist with your back pressed to his chest, you can't help but ask; “were you really jealous of a married man? Married to another man, no less?”

There’s a pause. Then, “...maybe.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

When the app tries to make you robo-scab

When we talk about the abusive nature of gig work, there’s some obvious targets, like algorithmic wage discrimination, where two workers are paid different rates for the same job, in order to trick occasional gig-workers to give up their other sources of income and become entirely dependent on the app:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Then there’s the opacity — imagine if your boss refused to tell you how much you’ll get paid for a job until after you’ve completed it, claimed that this was done in order to “protect privacy” — and then threatened anyone who helped you figure out the true wage on offer:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/07/hr-4193/#boss-app

Opacity is wage theft’s handmaiden: every gig worker producing content for a social media algorithm is subject to having their reach — and hence their pay — cut based on the unaccountable, inscrutable decisions of a content moderation system:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Making content for an algorithm is like having a boss that docks every paycheck because you broke rules that you are not allowed to know, because if you knew the rules, you’d figure out how to cheat without your boss catching you. Content moderation is the last place where security through obscurity is considered good practice:

https://doctorow.medium.com/como-is-infosec-307f87004563

When workers seize the means of computation, amazing things happen. In Indonesia, gig workers create and trade tuyul apps that let them unilaterally modify the way that their bosses’ systems see them — everything from GPS spoofing to accessibility mods:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

So the tech and labor story isn’t wholly grim: there are lots of ways that tech can enhance labor struggles, letting workers collaborate and coordinate. Without digital systems, we wouldn’t have the Hot Strike Summer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

As the historic writer/actor strike shows us, the resurgent labor movement and the senescent forces of crapulent capitalism are locked in a death-struggle over not just what digital tools do, but who they do it for and who they do it to:

https://locusmag.com/2022/01/cory-doctorow-science-fiction-is-a-luddite-literature/

When it comes to the epic fight over who technology acts for and against, we need a diversity of tactics, backstopped by tech operated by and for its users — and by laws that protect workers and the public. That dynamic is in sharp focus in UNITE Here Local 11’s strike against Orange County’s Laguna Cliffs Marriott Resort & Spa.

The UNITE Here strike turns on the usual issues like a living wage (hotel staff are paid so little they have to rent rooming-house beds by the shift, paying for the right to sleep in a room for a few hours at a time, without any permanent accommodation). They’re also seeking health-care and pensions, so they can be healthy at work and retire after long service. Finally, they’re seeking their employer’s support for LA’s Responsible Hotels Ordinance, which would levy a tax on hotel rooms to help pay for hotel workers’ housing costs (a hotel worker who can’t afford a bed is the equivalent of a fast food worker who has to apply for food stamps):

https://www.unitehere11.org/responsible-hotels-ordinance/

But the Marriott — which is owned by the University of California and managed by Aimbridge Hospitality — has refused to bargain, walking out negotiations.

But the employer didn’t walk out over wages, benefits or support for a housing subsidy. They walked out when workers demanded that the scabs that the company was trying to hire to break the strike be given full time, union jobs.

These aren’t just any scabs, either. They’re predominantly Black workers who rely on the $700m Instawork app for gigs. These workers are being dispatched to cross the picket line without any warning that they’re being contracted as strikebreakers. When workers refuse the cross the picket and join the strike, Instawork cancels all their shifts and permanently blocks them from new jobs.

This is a new, technologically supercharged form of illegal strikebreaking. It’s one thing for a single boss to punish a worker who refuses to scab, but Instawork acts as a plausible-deniability filter for all the major employers in the region. Like the landlord apps that allow landlords to illegally fix rents by coordinating hikes, Instawork lets bosses illegally collude to rig wages by coordinating a blocklist of workers who refuse to scab:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2022/10/company-that-makes-rent-setting-software-for-landlords-sued-for-collusion/?comments=1

The racial dimension is really important here: the Marriott has a longstanding de facto policy of refusing to hire Black workers, and whenever they are confronted with this, they insist that there are no qualified Black workers in the labor pool. But as soon as the predominantly Latino workforce struck, Marriott discovered a vast Black workforce that it could coerce into scabbing, in collusion with Instawork.

Now, all of this isn’t just sleazy, it’s illegal, a violation of Section 7 of the NLRB Act. Historically, that wouldn’t have mattered, because a string of presidents, R and D, have appointed useless do-nothing ghouls to run the NLRB. But the Biden admin, pushed by the party’s left wing, made a string of historic, excellent appointments, including NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo, who has set her sights on punishing gig work companies for flouting labor law:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/10/see-you-in-the-funny-papers/#bidens-legacy

UNITE HERE 11 has brought a case to the NLRB, charging the Instawork, the UC system, Marriott, and Aimbridge with violating labor law by blackmailing gig workers into crossing the picket line. The union is also asking the NLRB to punish the companies for failing to protect workers from violent retaliation from the wealthy hotel guests who have punched them and screamed epithets at them. The hotel has refused to identify these thug guests so that the workers they assaulted can swear out complaints against them.

Writing about the strike for Jacobin, Alex N Press tells the story of Thomas Bradley, a Black worker who was struck off all Instawork shifts for refusing to cross the picket line and joining it instead:

https://jacobin.com/2023/07/southern-california-hotel-workers-strike-automated-management-unite-here

Bradley’s case is exhibit A in the UNITE HERE 11 case before the NLRB. He has a degree in culinary arts, but racial discrimination in the industry has kept him stuck in gig and temp jobs ever since he graduated, nearly a quarter century ago. Bradley lived out of his car, but that was repossessed while he slept in a hotel room that UNITE HERE 11 fundraised for him, leaving him homeless and bereft of all his worldly possessions.

With UNITE HERE 11’s help, Bradley’s secured a job at the downtown LA Westin Bonaventure Hotel & Suites, a hotel that has bargained with the workers. Bradley is using his newfound secure position to campaign among other Instawork workers to convince them not to cross picket lines. In these group chats, Jacobin saw workers worrying “that joining the strike would jeopardize their standing on the app.”

Today (July 30) at 1530h, I’m appearing on a panel at Midsummer Scream in Long Beach, CA, to discuss the wonderful, award-winning “Ghost Post” Haunted Mansion project I worked on for Disney Imagineering.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

[Image ID: An old photo of strikers before a struck factory, with tear-gas plumes rising above them. The image has been modified to add a Marriott sign to the factory, and the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey' to the sky over the factory. The workers have been colorized to a yellow-green shade and the factory has been colorized to a sepia tone.]

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[jesncin]

seeing a lot of "if you want non Bats or Supes characters to get more comics you have to actually buy the comics to support niche characters" especially in response to supporting Absolute Martian Manhunter (who the team admits has historically been a tough sell).

While I get it, it's also just so overly simplistic to blame consumers to have to work against a broken capitalistic system. It doesn't take into account that publishers don't invest in marketing, that pre-order sales are everything (which relies on readers knowing these titles exist months in advance, pre-ordering it ideally at a local comic book store, if there even is a comic book store nearby, if the title isn't axed due to poor sales, etc) and that sometimes you just don't want to monetarily support a run anymore even if it has your beloved niche character attached to it.

maybe it's because I'm fresh off of Dead In America but I think it's unreasonable to keep insisting fans need to throw money at runs that weren't good or worse yet had horribly offensive depictions of marginalized characters just "to get more Constantine comics!". I get giving writers/artists chances to improve especially how even with all its faults, Hellblazer 2019 was extremely promising so "hopefully the depiction of sign language improves in the next run" is a reasonable thing to believe, but we got to see what a continuation of the run is like. It was a racist + ableist mess that had a Black character constantly brutalized and then had his disability "cured". There's only so much grace readers (especially marginalized readers) can give to a run like that.

So yes, support the comics and characters you want to see with your money. But also, maybe I don't want to use my money to send DC Comics the message "I like that John Jones is white this time" just to see more Martian Manhunter comics. Maybe I subjectively don't like the sound of the pitch, and would rather spend my money on Absolute Wonder Woman.

[megamindsecretlair]

i need me some one night stand Sam smut, maybe they met at a bar or mutual friend’s wedding/any event. whatever your little heart desires i just know that it’s gonna be amazing especially with Sam’s nasty behind. ily 🩷

A/N: I know I keep apologizing, but I am SOOO SORRY! I did not intend for this to take so long. I know you said it's cool, but I can't help it. Thank you for being so patient with me. ILY, ILY!

Feel Like I Do

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. SMUT. Cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving), teasing, use of pet names, mentions of birth control, size kink, praise kink, one night stand smut.

Summary: See Ask. While out at a club for your friend's birthday, you bump into Sam. He's sweet, charming, and there's something achingly familiar about him. You go home with him, needing to see where this goes.

Word Count: 5,505k

A/N: When an ask kicks my ass, it kicks my ass!!!! However, once it finally came together, it flowed so beautifully. Thank you @planetblaque for helping me! ILY. This is based off of one my fave songs. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @nerdieforpedro

The cover band was too loud. You grimaced as you made your way past the press of bodies towards the bar. You could barely hear the singer and the instruments sounded disharmonious on top of it. You hated nights like these. Why couldn’t your friend’s birthday fall during the week? 

This was your favorite club but you mostly went during the week when you could sit back and relax. There were less people, less lecherous men, and you could actually hear who was playing. It was a great spot to discover new and local talent. 

You shoved past a guy leaning in some poor girl’s face. You dug your elbow into his side hard enough for him to turn around. The girl he was speaking with gave you a grateful smile while she took off, disappearing into the crowd. 

You waved innocently to the man. There was a small opening at the bar that you made a beeline for. As soon as you reached it, you lifted a hand to get the bartender’s attention. At the same time, a man bumped into you and raised his own hand.

“Hey!” You said.

The man looked at you and you gasped. He was so cute. Smooth chestnut skin, a neat goatee, and high cheekbones. He wore a simple outfit with dark jeans and a carmine T-shirt but he wore it extremely well. The shirt bunched around his upper arms, bulging under his massive muscles. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you! Please, go ahead,” he said. He waved for you to go ahead. 

“Thanks. You’re not a regular here ,” you said.

The man shook his head. “Trying to cheer up my friend,” he said. He pointed to a section of the club where the booths were. There were two men sitting there. One with blond hair and looked like he bench pressed entire trucks for a living. The other had darker, longer hair and was whispering something to him.

“Girl troubles?” You asked.

“Always is. I’m Sam,” he said. He held out his hand. You shook his hand and introduced yourself. It was warm and big, strong in a way most men these days weren’t. You reluctantly dropped his hand, wondering what the hell was wrong with you. You just met the man and there was no reason to feel so..connected to him already. As if you knew him. 

“What brings you to this madhouse tonight?” Sam asked. You both waved for the bartender’s attention, but he was too busy at the other end of the bar. It’d be a while before he made his way down this way. The other bartender was too preoccupied by a group of guys on the opposite end. Fuck, you just wanted a damn drink. 

“Birthday for my friend,” you said. You pointed to your friends in a different booth. They were currently whooping, yelling and throwing their hands up while they danced. They looked like they were having fun. It was the goal and you were happy. 

“Ah, so they send the errand people to grab their drinks, huh?” Sam asked. 

“Seems like. But we’re good friends, so we’ll grin and bear it,” you said.

Sam nodded. “Since we’re gonna be here a while, you mentioned that I wasn’t a regular here. Does that mean you are?” 

It was your turn to nod. You leaned on the bar and faced him better. There were too many people crowding on either side, screaming for the two bartenders behind the bar. They pressed against you until you were flush against Sam. To his credit, he did his best to get away and give you some room.

“Guess we’re getting personal tonight. How ‘bout your next drink is on me as an apology?” He asked.

Something about him was so disarming. It was unnerving. Your natural defenses were useless against him. Usually you were trying to get out of there as fast as you could. Picking up women in bars always seemed so cheesy to you. Full of bad pick up lines and beer goggles. 

Sam seemed as sober as a judge. And he smelled divine. Something earthy. Something that reminded you of taking hikes in the forest, faint mist in the air, and the sound of a small waterfall nearby. 

You hadn’t had much to drink but being near him was like you were buzzed. Like time was hazy and the only plane of existence was inside the club. You swayed a bit towards him. Drawn to his gravitational pull.

“I’d like that, but no apology needed.” You smiled at him, suddenly at a loss of what to do or say. Your body was becoming electrified. The sounds in the place receded to the background as your attention narrowed to Sam. 

“No apology needed, but how about an answer to my question in exchange? Is it strange that I feel like we know each other?” 

You grinned. Good, it wasn’t just you. You shook your head. “Right? Like what is that?” 

Sam ran through places that you might have in common. Like grocery stores, no. Or gyms, hell no. He ran around nearabout the Washington monument every day in the wee hours of the morning.

“If I’m up before the sun is up, shoot me,” you said.

He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He had a good laugh. One that you wanted to hear over and over. 

“Not a morning person, huh?” He asked.

“Not even a little bit.” You were quite the terror in the morning when you woke up. As if the day owed you a personal favor for getting up on time. You had no time for morning chats or chores or anything that required brain activity until your first cup of coffee. Even then, it was hit or miss on how your mood would progress until the sun was higher in the sky and you didn’t feel like crawling back into bed.

You abandoned the drinks and simply talked to Sam. You learned more about him, about his time spent in the military and that he was a counselor now. You told him about your soul-sucking job and how you came here often to listen to local bands. 

He had a great voice that melted like butter around everything he said. And the way he told a story made you feel like you were really there. 

Every now and then, you would get bumped into and in turn, bump into him. Every push against his body was its own hit of dopamine. Every time he steadied you, his hands wrapped around your forearms, turned your brain to mush. Every time he smiled, you wanted to grab him and never let go. 

“We still haven’t gotten any drinks,” he said. 

You chuckled as you realized that you were probably talking to him for the last thirty minutes. In your own bubble, getting to know one another. 

You looked towards your friends. They were still dancing but were now on their phones. You pulled yours out to see the dozens of missed texts. The threats to call the police started. You texted them back to know that you were still alive and not kidnapped. You showed Sam and he laughed.

“We’re pretty bad friends,” he said. He looked towards his own. The situation looked a bit better. Maybe the dark-haired one was able to cheer up the blonde. 

“So bad! What are they gonna do with us?” You asked.

“Well, I still haven’t gotten you that drink but it doesn't look like we’re having much luck at the bar. I can’t let you leave without making it up to you,” he said. 

You grinned and looked towards the dance floor. The cover band had mercifully stopped and now the DJ was spinning records you could actually dance to. You turned your attention back to Sam. “How about a dance?” 

He looked towards the crowded dance floor and then turned back to you with a chuckle. “Think you can keep up?” 

You giggled and stepped away from the bar. You glided your hand across his chest and he looked down to follow the movement. “Can you?” You asked.

Sam smirked. He grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The bottom of the floor was illuminated with squares of color. Neon blues, reds, and purples danced over you as you stepped onto the floor. 

You started bobbing your shoulders and getting into the rhythm. Sam followed your lead, getting closer and shaking his hips. His hands coasted along your exposed arms in your black tank top, pulling you closer and closer. You grinned at him. 

The song changed to a funky, techno type hip-hop song. It made everyone scream with joy. You popped your booty more to match the quick beat and Sam turned you around. He grabbed the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer into his body roughly, your back to his chest.

You twerked on him, rubbing and grinding your booty into his crotch. If you weren’t mistaken, he was definitely happy about that. He already seemed so thick and heavy behind his jeans but he had given no indication that his mind went there.

He dropped his head closer to your shoulder, his breath fanned across your damp neck. Sweat pooled along the slopes of your body. He switched up the way you were dancing on him, controlling your movements to the way he liked and you were powerless to do anything but go along with it. 

You slid your hand along the back of his neck and cupped his head. He moaned in your ear as you continued this dance, rocking with each other like you wanted to devour each other whole. 

You thought that feeling like you were the only two people in the room was a joke. Experiencing it with Sam was surreal as no one else mattered. No one else existed. 

He moved his hands from the belt loops to grab your hips. His fingers rode up your shirt a fraction so that he could play with your skin where your jeans stopped. Just that tiny bit of friction, his calloused fingers rubbing along your smooth skin, made your panties even more soaked than what they already were. 

You were in tune with this man. You felt him on a cellular level. Every breath of his tugged at your cells. Every sound he made tickled your veins. Everytime he ground his hips into you, to let you know nonverbally that he was feeling you,  was like a twitch in your muscles. 

Your bodies moved in sync. Neither one of you could keep your hands from roaming. Seeking. A compulsion for more and more. There was no end in sight. No limit for this need driving you. A need to feel him, all of him. 

Sam kissed your neck, licked right over the pounding vein in your neck and you dropped your head back against his shoulder. This felt too right. Too overwhelmingly good that you wanted to freeze this moment. To exist in limbo with him. 

His thumbs pressed into your lower back and you moaned. Sam continued kissing up your neck until you turned your head. Your lips pressed together, a mini explosion all its own that rocked you to your core.

His lips were warm, inviting. His breath was minty with a subtle hint of beer. He kissed as well as he danced. Perhaps better. 

“Come back to my place,” he said against your lips and then dived in for another scorching kiss. 

“Yes,” you answered, though he hadn’t phrased it like a question. God, you wanted to see where this could go. It was soul crushing to part for even a minute. You didn’t know him. But you felt like you did. Like you had known him your entire life. 

He stopped dancing and took your hand from his head. He pulled you off of the dance floor. “Meet me outside and then follow me to my place.” 

You nodded. You departed, holding onto each other until you’d either have to let go or risk injury. You watched each other until the crowd obscured him. You took a deep breath, returning to reality for half a second.

You poked your way through the crowd, reaching your friends at the booth.

“Who the hell was that?” Your friend, Alana, said and waved a napkin in front of her face. The birthday girl, Cece, nodded her head.

“Shit, I feel like I need a damn cigarette,” she said.

You waved them off. Your insides were jelly, a giddy nervousness that wouldn’t quit. “Will you hate me for dipping?” 

“One of us needs to get laid. Go ‘head girl,” Cece said and hi-fived you. 

“I love you, I love you,” you said. You hugged them both and made them promise to look out for each other.

“I’ll accept my name as the middle name for the baby ya’ll finna make!” Cece yelled and you smacked her arm.

“Nasty ass!” You waved goodbye and headed to the parking lot. You kept expecting for that feeling to disappear. That desperate neediness in your veins to return to Sam and never leave his side. But it never did.

It increased tenfold when you reached outside. The cool air fell over your sweaty skin like stepping into a freezer. It should have woken up your senses. You didn’t “do” one night stands. You didn’t randomly go with strangers and have sex. 

However, seeing Sam standing by his car made you want to jump his bones even more. He saw you approach and he smiled. 

“You can change your mind if you want to,” he said. 

“I don’t want to,” You said and smiled. 

He told you to follow him. Your eyes cataloged everything about him. The way he moved, the way he talked. The way he stood there and radiated peace and calmness like walking melatonin. 

You climbed into your car and followed Sam. He didn’t live far. He lived out in a bunch of townhomes, neat and tidy in their uniform rows. You supposed that to a military person, this would feel like home. 

Sam parked first and you parked in front of his place. He got out of the car and so did you. You made your way to him. Nerves prevented you from speaking but there was a comfortable familiarity with him that didn’t require words from either of you.

He grabbed your hand and led you into his house. It was tastefully decorated and most importantly - clean. There were too many grown men comfortable with living in absolute filth and had the nerve to think women were just supposed to excuse it away. 

Sam turned on a few lights, enough to see by. After locking the door and throwing his keys on the table beside it, he faced you.

He slowly approached, his eyes raking over your body. You felt it like a physical caress. His face showed nothing but appreciation and desire. He liked what he saw. And damn, did you like what you were seeing as well. He moved like a large cat, like a lion lazily stretching its muscles. 

He stepped to you and then tilted your head up by your chin. He grinned and then closed his eyes, kissing you softly. Reverently. Like it was a long-lost reunion after decades apart. You felt like you would float away at any moment. 

He deepened the kiss. He grabbed both sides of your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. Your hands finally grabbed his thick arms, rubbing his shoulders and hanging on. He moaned low in his throat, continuing to be content with just kissing you. Tasting you. 

“Upstairs? I’m assuming?” You asked. 

“Beauty first,” he said. He let you go so you could turn around and head towards the stairs. You passed by pictures of him growing up. Two parents and what looked like a sister. There were more pictures of the sister with kids. Pictures of Sam with his unit. 

Sam placed his hands on your hips and escorted you to his room. He turned on a lamp and the light was a little harsh but still intimate. The walls were painted a deep, soothing blue. His sheets matched the walls and he had blinds on the window. 

He wasn’t much for useless junk. Everything had its place and section. He’d have a fit if he saw your place. It was clean, but you definitely tended to cherish trinkets, gadgets, or souvenirs. Proof of life. Of love. Of friendships and relaxing trips. 

You faced him with a smile. There was no rush here. Nothing to indicate that he was trying to pressure you in any way. You grinned wider and reached for your shirt, throwing it on the floor. 

Sam’s eyes widened, taking in your peek-a-boo turquoise bra. He licked his lips. Feeling emboldened by his obvious desire, you stripped out of your shoes and jeans, kicking them off to the side.

“I show you mine…” you sang. You grinned and sidled up next to him, reaching for his shirt. He helped you pull it off of him. Fuck, he was gorgeous. He was all smooth skin and muscle. Stack on top of stack. He took his physical health seriously. Your hands rubbed all over every inch you could reach. 

Sam’s heavy breathing filled the room as you touched him. You stared into his eyes and leaned down to place a kiss over one of his pecs. He grinned. “Like what you see?” 

“You know damn well how fine you are,” you said. 

“Don’t mean I don’t wanna hear it,” he said.

“You are so fucking hot,” you said. You might have drooled. Didn’t care.

Sam chuckled as he finally shed his own boots and jeans, revealing black briefs and an impressive bulge. You reached for it, ready to feel that too but he grabbed your wrists before you made contact. You pouted at him.

“I was raised to be a gentleman. So get your sexy, gorgeous ass on that bed and spread them pretty legs for me,” he said. 

Shivers wrecked you. There was no breeze in the house to blame it on. No whir of the A/C to excuse it away. His words alone had you rubbing your thighs together and grinning. 

You backed up into the bed, holding his gaze. He licked his lips while you sat down and then scooted onto the bed. He stalked closer so that he could maintain that shared look as you laid down and got comfortable on his plush mattress. 

Sam tilted his head at you. You rolled your eyes and spread your legs like he asked you to. He made a pleased sound that you felt down to your toes. 

He reached out and rubbed your thighs and legs, getting you used to his touch. He hooked his rough fingers around your matching panties and tugged them down. He whistled softly as he got a peek at your glistening center.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said. He looked up at you. As he descended down with a kiss to your tummy, he asked, “Can I taste it?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. Your breathing turned choppy. 

He placed kisses along your lower tummy, not touching your pussy at all. His hands remained locked around your thighs, holding them open. He started to move down, kissing along your thighs. He stopped when he reached your inner thigh. 

“Can I play with it?” 

“Fuck yes,” you moaned. 

His fingers massaged your thighs, digging deep and finding knots you didn’t know existed. You moaned, unable to stop yourself from squirming under his methodical hands. His thumbs traced patterns as he massaged you, tracing small circles into your skin. He kept his hands moving, gripping and learning you. His thumbs caressed the inside juncture of your legs, where your thighs met your pelvis.

“Oue, shit,” you moaned. 

Sam chuckled and brushed his goatee against your skin. His face was smooth earlier but there were the beginnings of prickly stubble that rubbed along your thighs. You were unused to this type of teasing. Where it felt like your skin would melt off if he didn’t do something soon. 

He placed lazy kisses to your inner thighs, making each area tingle. You felt phantom kisses all over and you continued to squirm.

“Calm down, relax,” he said against your skin.

“How can I? You’re driving me insane,” you said.

“Insane? Good. I wanna drive you to total and complete madness,” he said. 

Fuck.

He kept placing these kisses along your skin and your body twisted and bowed off of the bed the closer he approached your pussy. You were probably already leaving a nice little puddle on his covers already. 

“Sam, please,” you sighed. His fingers felt heavenly but you wanted more. You wanted to feel him. 

“I’m sensing some impatience,” he said. 

“Hella impatience,” you said.

Sam chuckled. You thought he’d say something else. You thought you’d get a warning and brace for whatever it was that he did next. But when his tongue flattened against your pussy, you leaned off of the bed with a long moan. 

Your hands flew to his head, clutching him to you. He waited with his tongue against your pussy as you panted, twisted, and turned on the bed. That small act felt like a lightning strike. Sam kept your legs open waiting for you to calm down.

You took quick, choppy breaths trying to calm yourself down. This was so fucking embarrassing. You should not be this overly excited when he hasn't even done anything yet. 

You planted your ass on the bed and then Sam groaned, licking up run away arousal. “Fuck, you taste so good. So sweet,” he said.

Your laugh was breathy. “It’s uh, been a while,” you said.

“That’s okay. Me too,” he said.

“Is this where I find out something’s wrong with you to scare off women?” You asked.

Sam laughed, kissing your thigh and leaving a wet mark behind. “I can only say that I just haven’t found the right woman yet.” 

You were going to say something else but then he started licking in earnest. As if you were his own personal ice cream cone. He moaned more, settling further onto the bed. Then he really dug in.

You scratched his scalp as he ate you out. You couldn’t stop gyrating and grinding your hips into his mouth. He moaned and sucked and licked until your legs were shaking and you were screaming out your orgasm. Screaming at the ceiling and any neighbors nearby. 

“Oh fuck!” You shook and twitched. As you came down, you leaned up. But Sam gave you a wink and dived back down, licking you again and teasing your entrance with his tongue.

“Sam?” You asked, but ended on a moan. Your clit was sensitive and you twitched with every pass. 

“I ain’t done yet,” he moaned into your pussy. 

You made a garbled, panicked sound. The hell did he mean he wasn’t done? He continued to lick and suck, wet smacking noises bouncing off of the walls. Your moans mixed with his. Both of you totally dedicated to the giving and receiving of oral pleasure. 

Your tummy tightened, contracted, pulling another orgasm out of you. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,” you chanted, unable to control your body or thoughts. You were out of your mind with pleasure.

Your lungs burned since you couldn’t draw in enough air to properly breathe. You felt dizzy and disoriented. “Oh fuck,” you said.

Sam leaned back and smacked his lips. You barely managed to look down at him over your belly. His lower jaw was drowning in your juices. He gave you a wink and kissed your thigh. “Okay?” He asked.

You nodded, too far gone to speak. 

“Good, I still ain’t done,” he panted. He took a deep breath and latched right back onto your clit. 

“Shit!” You yelled, trying to scoot away from him. Those muscles were not just for show. He pinned your legs to the bed, opening you up further. He held you in place as he returned to devouring his meal, heedless to your desperate pleas and cries. 

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you said as you tapped on his head.

He lifted his head. “You okay?” 

“T-too much,” you said.

“Aww, need a break?” He asked.

You nodded, tears swimming to your eyes. “I’m still hungry. Give me one more,” he said.

“What!” He returned to your pussy, licking all around your clit and making your eyes roll back in your head. You were unused to this much pleasure, this much bliss. Before long, another orgasm was steamrolling over you and robbing you of breath. 

True to his word, he stopped and kissed up your thighs and rubbed his wet beard into your skin. He nibbled on your tummy. You felt all of this distantly, knowing he was doing it but what was one more sensation as you calmed down from your orgasm? Your nerves were on fire. Singed right down to the atom. 

Sam rubbed your stomach. You closed your eyes and snuggled into the feeling. Of the tranquility you felt by his side. 

“You are so mean,” you said.

Sam chuckled. He leaned over and started kissing your cheek and jaw. You faintly smelled yourself on him and it made you want to lick his face. His lips moved lower to whisper in your ear. “You should’ve warned me that you taste so damn good. I could spend all night in between your legs. Tasting that pretty pussy,” he said.

“Fuck. Sam,” you said. You turned your head to look into his pussy drunk eyes. 

He grinned. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. “You’re really gorgeous.”

“You’re gonna kill me,” you said.

He laughed. “I hope not. I feel like I’d miss you too much even though we just met,” he said. 

You were completely limp as a noodle. You were relaxed and lethargic, incapable of doing anything more than concentrating on your breathing. However, you were a lady. 

You got to your elbows and then reached for his briefs. You cupped him, running your hands over the material. Even though the color was black, there were obvious wet spots there. Sam groaned, rolling his eyes back. 

He nudged his face against you, seeking your lips without opening his eyes. You obliged, kissing him and tasting yourself on his tongue. It was a heady thing. 

You did the same thing he did to you. You kissed along the corners of his mouth, his jaw, his neck, and his beautiful chest. You moaned your appreciation for his body as you climbed down his body, grabbing his briefs and tugging them down.

His dick sprang free. Slightly curved and smooth, the tip leaked with precum. You licked your lips and settled onto the side of him so you could take him in your mouth. 

“Fuck, me,” he groaned. 

You worked his shaft into your mouth, coating it with your saliva. As you did, you bobbed your head up and down sucking him all the way to the back of your throat. His groans spurned you on to go faster, further, wanting to hand deliver the same pleasure he did for you. 

His hips started to jerk the faster you sucked him down until he was pushing at your shoulders to get up. You wiped your mouth and looked at him quizzically. 

“I want to cum while I’m inside you,” he said. He gave you a dark, feral look that made your pussy throb. How was it that he was so damn gorgeous and generous on top of it? It was like you found a unicorn. Or a man built for your pleasure. 

You grinned. “I’m on the pill,” you said.

He closed his eyes briefly and took a few deep breaths. “Don’t tell me that,” he said.

You kissed his thick, powerful thighs and rubbed your cheek against his legs. The tiny hairs there tickled your face but you looked up at him. “I’m on the pill,” you said again. 

He groaned and then got to his knees on the bed. He kissed you, his big beautiful lips slanting against yours. He was a nasty kisser. Tongues dueling against each other, lips smacking, moaning and groaning into each other’s mouths. 

He pulled you onto your knees until he positioned you on your back. He fell over you and settled in between your legs, rubbing his large dick against your inner thigh. He humped you, grinding his dick against your clit.

“Please, please, please,” you chanted.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Hell yes, please Sam. Please, I need to feel you,” you said.

Sam grinned and went back to kissing you. He used one hand to guide himself inside you and you shared a loud groan. He was large. Stretching you to your limit. 

“Fuck!” You yelled.

Sam kissed you and waited as you adjusted to his length. He slowly worked himself inside until he was able to glide more easily, aided by your essence. Once he was down to the hilt, he paused and looked into your eyes.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” he said. He kissed you again, sweeter this time.

Slowly, he began moving. He groaned and sped up as if he couldn’t help himself. As if every slide inside of you was like climbing the staircase to heaven. Before long he was pounding inside of you, pounding you into the bed while still kissing you.

You would never get enough of kissing him. Your heart felt like it was ready to burst. He was so damn sweet and caring while being absolutely fucking nasty. You had never had sex like this. Sex that completely enveloped every inch of you and lit you on fire. Sex that made you feel seen and heard and like your pleasure came first.

He was driving your ass into the bed with the force of his thrusts. “Fuck, Sam! Fuck, Sam!” You gripped onto his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 

“Hm, give me another one. Another one, beautiful,” he said. 

As if your pussy responded to the command, you were squeezing him as you were cumming. You shouted, loudly, your body curling in on itself as the orgasm rolled through you and over you. 

“Shit,” Sam whispered against your lips as he came. His hips were still moving to the pace he set, the momentum causing him to fuck his cum into you deeper and deeper. His dick pulsed inside, filling you completely. 

“OH, fuck!” You shouted. 

Sam dropped against you and you both caught your breath. He was deliciously sweaty, and all masculine energy as he laid on top of you. He leaned to one side to try and lessen his weight but you clutched his shoulders, hugging him.

“Stay, for a moment,” you said. He was the perfect size and weight to act as a weighted blanket. He laughed as he placed his weight back on top of you.

“You’re cute. And funny,” he said, nudging his goatee against your cheek. 

“You’re cute and funny,” you echoed. Even after everything you shared, you were hungry for more. He seemed to have the same thought. He couldn’t stop rubbing against you. You welcomed it, not willing to leave him just yet.

He softened inside of you and then slowly pulled out. You were sad to miss the feel of him on top of you. He pecked your lips and disappeared into an adjacent bathroom. You heard the water running and then he was returning.

He placed a warm washcloth to your pussy and gently cleaned you up. He grinned as you made incoherent noises. He finished and returned the washcloth to the bathroom.

“Will you agree to stay ‘till the morning? I make a mean pancake,” he said.

“Mean, you say?” You asked. You stretched out like a fat cat, working out little kinks and tweaks from vigorous sex. 

“Mean as hell. Probably got sent to jail a few times over it,” he said.

You laughed at his corny joke. He sat on the bed and waited for your answer. You smiled. “I suppose I have to see if you can back up this claim,” you said. 

“Oh, I can definitely back it up,” he said.

“Oh, definitely. Someone is definitely cocky,” you said. 

Sam chuckled as he helped you sit up so that he could pull the covers off of the bed. He grabbed another one from a closet in the hallway and then draped it over you. He climbed into the bed and snuggled up next to you on his side. 

You talked, giggled, and kissed until the wee hours of the morning. You hated to admit it, but the pancakes were definitely mean and slamming.

Whew! Did you know I have a Sam series? Find more Sam here: The Secret Sam Wilson Files

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of hurt/comfort fics as requested in this ask. This rec is a part 2, you can find part 1 here. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

❤️‍🩹 This Multiplicity of Powers by @helloamhere

(E, 149k, superheroes) Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside. But this isn’t that universe. //an X-Men AU.

❤️‍🩹 another dream but always you by you_explode / @nobodymoves

(M, 66k, famous/not famous) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band.

❤️‍🩹 saw some things on the other side by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 61k, time travel) Louis’ plan doesn’t take into account the fact that instead of writing murder mysteries, he will find himself in one.

❤️‍🩹 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, soulmates) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. 

❤️‍🩹 Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie

(E, 41k, historical circus au) Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

❤️‍🩹 Caves End by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 39k, farm) the one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

❤️‍🩹 My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence

(NR, 35k, acrobat Louis) By the age of 30, Louis' entire life trajectory had changed from what he'd thought it would be. He moved back to the town he grew up in and did his best to pull himself and his life back together again.

❤️‍🩹 All Out of Love by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(G, 32k, cupid au) While on a mission to match Liam and Zayn, the distraction comes in the shape of Louis Tomlinson – an overworked and underloved man trying way too hard to do everything himself.

❤️‍🩹 Until the Pearls Get Lost by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(M, 25k, omegaverse) Liam’s childhood friend Louis is about to become the talk of the city; left at the altar because the mating bond was rejected, Louis will spend the rest of his life in an institution unless Liam can find someone to take him in and care for him as he recovers.

❤️‍🩹 Scarred by @allwaswell16

(E, 23k, omegaverse) As a male omega, Louis has learned to live with disappointment and rejection, but he dreams of the day he finds his soulmate. When Harry inadvertently rejects him as his soulmate, Harry has no idea he's doomed Louis to a slow, painful death.

❤️‍🩹 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

❤️‍🩹 some evening in springtime by delsicle / @eeveedel

(M, 20k, age difference) Fresh out of veterinary school, Louis moves to a sleepy small town in Texas to take over the local animal clinic. But his new life is quickly interrupted by a middle aged rancher with a bad leg and a mysterious past, who really needs Louis's yoga skills.

❤️‍🩹 Safe place to hide us away by @lunarheslwt

(T, 12k, omegaverse) weighed down by everyday stress, alpha Harry takes up nesting in secret. It takes a load of missing clothes and unravelling lies for him to realise that his omega would love and accept him no matter what.

❤️‍🩹 Close Enough to Touch by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(M, 11k, tour au) Louis definitely did not need a masseuse on tour. Not even if that masseuse turned out to be gorgeous, kind, and lovely.

❤️‍🩹 I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by @fallinglikethis

(NR, 5k, flower shop) Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.

❤️‍🩹 The Cowboy In Us All by @taggiecb

(G, 3k, famous/famous) When the real pain of trouble in their relationship gets to be too much they turn to the one thing that they can control; the messages in the songs they sing onstage.

❤️‍🩹 Remember Me (When I'm With You) by liberty_barnes / @liberty-barnes

(T, 1k, fallen angel Louis) the one where Louis was cast out and Harry just wants him to be happy.

- Rare Pairs -

❤️‍🩹 your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic / @lightwoodsmagic

(E, 97k, Zayn/Liam) A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. 

❤️‍🩹 a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 10k, Niall/Harry) Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

[moondal514]

hi! do you have any fic recs for the aftg fandom? ideally AUs but where the characters aren’t ooc

Anon you have no idea what kind of blank check you’ve given me with this ask 😂. For the sake of my own sanity I have limited myself to only listing 10 fic recs but please know that there are literally 100s of fics I could rec within these parameters 😂.

the opposite of hunger by constelationprize/ @constelationprize

One would think that, being a necromancer, Kevin Day would be more excited at the prospect of immortality. And maybe he was, once, before he had actually sat foot inside Canaan House.

...

Based on prompt #1, or: "the locked tomb au where kevin and riko are necromancers and jean is their cavalier. they are invited to canaan house by the emperor to achieve lyctorhood, but kevin refuses to perform the lyctoral theorem on jean. riko, on the other hand, has no qualms about it. "

The Locked Tomb au. This fic is just insanely good and highlights how well Perfect Court dynamics work for the Third House and it just blows my mind honestly

if i die young by animediac, dayurno/ @jaywalkers, @dayurno

Kevin Day is sixteen with eyes too human, a gift no one should ever have, and blood Andrew thinks would spill out black over the snow outside. He is standing in the school hallway with a dead boy at his feet, and he is going to die by Andrew Minyard’s hands.

He must. He will.

Kevin Day, singer of bodies. Harbringer of death.

Teen Wolf au. A collaboration between 2 amazing writers in this fandom and responsible for converting me to Kandreil

vengeance and death by cthulu_sun

legend says you have wax-dipped wings and golden fingernails and knives made of the blood you have spilled. legend says you are not merciful.

-

in which renee is a tired guardian angel, finds the foxes, and falls in love.

Guardian angel au. This is one of my favorite Renison fics because it’s such a cool universe written in a beautiful and unique style and I just think it’s one of the most underrated fics in the fandom

Hush, Don't Say a Word by waterwings/ @amywaterwings

Excerpt from local newspaper, January 10, 2016

A Killer Is on the Loose at Palmetto State. Are You Safe?

For a detailed re-telling of the gruesome events that gripped the Palmetto State campus over the past eight months, please see the pages below. But I beg you, dear reader, tread lightly. You don’t know what’s waiting for you, out there in the dark.

~Katelyn Golightly, Student Journalist

Murder mystery au. One of my favorite fics of all time ever across any fandom because the writing is visceral and gut-wrenching, the kind that has you holding your breath and on the edge of your seat as you read it, and by the end of the fic it’s broken your brain in the best way possible

We Can Live Forever by mostly_maudlin/ @mostlymaudlin

PALMETTO HIGH SCHOOL ATHLETIC FUNDRAISER

WINTER SERENADES - $5 EACH

On sale Dec. 15-17 during lunch blocks. Support our teams, and let them show your friends how much you care through choreographed song and dance!

-

Participation in the fundraiser is mandatory for all student-athletes. Maybe none of this would have happened if they weren't pushed out of their comfort zones. (But honestly, maybe it was always going to end this way.)

A story about the joys of competition, the people in your corner, and, of course, the misfortune of being a teenager in love with your best friend.

High school au. My favorite high school au in the fandom because it just makes me so so so happy and I always read it when I need a pick me up

The Real Folk Blues by moonix/ @annawrites

Captain David Wymack and the bounty hunter crew of the Bebop spaceship might be a little out of their depths chasing down the infamous hacker and notorious runaway Neil Wesninski, whose bounty exceeds even Kevin's wildest dreams. Worst of all, Andrew might actually enjoy it.

Cowboy Bebop au. Super fun au featuring the Foxes as space cowboys and copious amounts of weird Andreil flirting

Under A Sea of Mist by puddlejumper99/ @writingpuddle

For a thousand years the Lord Ruler has reigned over the Final Empire. Ash falls from the sky and strange mists shroud the night. The skaa labour in the fields and the nobility dance in their Keeps, their glittering lights blinding them to the cruelty in their hearts.

The skaa rebellion is a fantasy and Neil knows it. The Lord Ruler is immortal; there's no overthrowing him. It's as much a surprise to him as anyone else when he gets recruited. But as he gets drawn deeper into the plot, he starts to discover things that will change their understanding of magic forever.

There's always another secret.

Mistborn au. A fic whose existence still feels incredibly self-indulgent to me because it’s a mashup of 2 series I really love and an au plucked from my wildest dreams

The Sphynx and the Hare by darkbluebox/ @darkblueboxs

Neil knows he should burn Wymack's contract and run until his legs can no longer carry him. His daemon, the mouthpiece to his soul, says otherwise. He's ignored her for far too long; it's time to follow his heart, be it to dream or damnation.

Daemon au. Theeee daemon au of all time, I’ve yet to see any other daemon au in this fandom where I agreed with the choices of animals for daemons this hard

the bittersweet between my teeth by alaynes/ @nicolos

In which Neil Josten is a Time Jumper, and everywhere he goes he keeps seeing one man.

-

Neil's throat dried; the sound of keys rang in his ears, but so did his voice.

Andrew Minyard stared back at him, expression inscrutable.

Time travel/reincarnation au. Time travel au’s are always tragic on some level but this one really takes it to the next level with the way it explores Andreil existing outside of time the way they do; my go-to fic when I need to experience an Emotion™️

The Last Warm Hand To Hold You by sambutwithbooks

When Kevin Day warns him that the Moriyamas will send a monster to collect their star investment, Andrew expects something beastly.

-

Five Times Andrew Asks Neil To Bite Him and One Time He Finally Does

Vampire au. This is to me the vampire fic of all time; idk something about it is ridiculously romantic in a way I can’t help but love

-

Hope you enjoy these anon!

[din-miller]

Keldable Kisses

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Din forgets to give you a kiss in the morning and you take it personally and decide to get payback by wearing a hat with a visor preventing his much needed marketplace keldable kisses.

Warnings: the plot is literally just about keldable kisses, It's all fluff, His first name is Din, married couple, female reader, reader is a tease, mentioned protective Din, reader has hair but length is never mentioned, stupidly soft din, swear words, does star wars have hats? Baseball caps? They do now and they're the bane of Din's existence

A/N: Din's cloak gets a bigger supporting role then Grogu because like all great writers I forgot about him three paragraphs in.

It's petty, you know so, but that doesn't stop you from pulling out an old dusty hat you found years ago on some backwater planet during a hunt with Din.

It's nothing special, no eye-catching design. It's black with a white visor to protect your eyes against the sun. Definitely not fashionable but it's practical, which leaves you with no good excuse as to why you're wearing it on a planet with no sunlight.

And you're definitely going to need an excuse when your husband sees you wearing it. You could opt for the truth; tell him that he forgot to give you a kiss this morning before putting on his armour and you're petty enough to deprive him of keldable kisses for the rest of the day.

Yeah, no, that wouldn't go well. He wouldn't let you leave the ship until every part of you has been kissed – twice over.

Okay, that doesn't sound like the worst punishment and if you didn't need supplies from the local marketplace, you'd let your husband manhandle you into next week.

The sound of the ramp hitting the ground echoed through the ship shortly followed by Din's voice, "Cyare, you ready? We're on a time limit, remember?"

"Of course, we wouldn't want to waste precious daylight." You tossed one of Din's old cloaks over your shoulders, clasping it together at the front and left the room.

"I know you're joking but in case you're not, I want to remind you that there's no sunlight here. Make sure you dress accordingly-," His helmet tilted up and you know he's staring at the hat, "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, this old thing?" You canted the visor down, fingers sliding along the rim, "It's just something I found. Why, you don't like it?"

He shook his head, bundling together everything needed for the short trip, "I never said that. If I recall correctly, I was the one who picked it out."

"You blindly grabbed whatever hat was closest to you because you found the seller creepy and wanted to leave."

"I knew I'd regret telling you that," Din sighed and placed Grogu in his pram, "And he was creepy. He kept flirting with you, his eyes barely left you."

"My knight in shining beskar armour." You teased him.

Din hummed in agreement. You know he secretly loves it when you refer to him as yours. He tilted his head down, bringing his helmet to meet your forehead in a keldable kiss, the first in what he assumed would be many throughout the day.

You bit your lip when your visor prevented him from doing so. He growled, displeased at not being able to rest his forehead against yours in a kiss. He stepped back and reached up and you're quick to grab Din's arm stopping him from taking off your hat.

Din shook his arm, trying to wiggle out of your grip, "What are you doing?"

Your hand tightened, eyes blinking up at him innocently, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to take off this stupid hat."

"Oh, it's stupid now? Maybe I'll go get a second opinion from the creepy guy."

"Just take it off, mesh'la." Din puffed out his chest. He's totally peacocking and it's unfairly attractive. He knows you wouldn't actually track down that creep, but the thought probably has his possessive side reeling.

"No, no I don't think I will," You ducked out from under his grasp, your fingers slipped into his and you pulled him towards the ramp, "Now come on, we're on a time limit, remember? Wouldn't want to waste precious daylight!"

You had seen the lights from the Razor Crest, but being planetside, underneath the glow of orange lights you find yourself speechless.

You were originally a little worried about how well you'd be able to see in the darkness of sky. Having one of your senses dulled in this line of work made you feel on edge, anyone could be lurking in the shadows. Din had reassured you that he'll keep his helmet's night vision on until the three of you are back in the safety of the ship.

But that no longer felt necessary underneath the marketplaces string lights. When you told him such, he just shrugged and replied that it's better to be safe than sorry. He's never been one to risk the safety of you and the child, so you don't argue.

"You know, you'd be able to see the lights better if you took off your hat." Din said, his hand resting against the dip of your lower back as he guides you through the near empty market.

You rolled your eyes. You've been waiting for him to bring up the hat again. It's not hard to tell he's still upset over not being able to kiss you.

"I can see them just fine, thank you." You're lying. Din is one hundred percent right. Your neck is going to be sore tomorrow from tilting your head back to see the lights properly.

Din shook his head with a sigh but didn't say anything else. You took his hand and brought it up to your lips making what you assume is eye contact as you pressed slow kisses to his gloved fingers.

"Cyare." His fingers twitched and his other hand reached up to your head. You make a gross wet noise as you loudly gave his ring finger one last kiss before dodging his attempt at taking off your hat.

"C'mon, we need supplies."

The two of you walk through the marketplace grabbing the much needed supplies. You're hoping to get everything here and not have to make another stop.

Out of the corner of your eye you see two twi'lek engaged in what you could only describe as a passionate lip-lock. They're young, not that you could see their faces with each other's tongues shoved down their throats. You turn away, a blush on your face.

"Hey, you two osi’kovids," Din barked, startling them and you, "There are kids here-,"

"Okay," You quickly interjected, grabbing Din's arm and dragging him away. You call out over your shoulder to the couple as you go, "Sorry, he's not himself when he's hungry."

Din grunted at your words and you turned to face him, "Was that necessary? Grogu's the only child here and he's unfortunately seen worse. And calling them shitheads, seriously?"

He huffed, "Mandalorians' view public display of-,"

"-what are you talking about-," The corner of your lips turned up, "Oh my gosh, you're jealous! No, no don't argue, you totally are."

"I am not jealous, mesh'la. Mandalorians'-,"

"Is that right?" You grinned cutting him off again, hand daring to trail down his arm, fingers lingering a little too long where his armour doesn't cover his flight suit, "All these years of marketplace keldable kisses, you've been disrespecting the Way. I guess it's a good thing I'm wearing my hat."

You know keldable kissing in public is not breaking any Mandalorian laws. In fact it's encouraged to shower your riduur with the love and affection they deserve. Din is just being a big baby and taking his frustration out on innocent people.

You chuckled at his defeated silence and sauntered away adding an extra swing to your hips as you went. Behind you Din mumbled something to Grogu and the tone of the child's coo made it clear that he's taking your side.

"Oh thank you! This is my riduur's favourite fruit."

Truth be told, you're enjoying the way his self restraint chipped away with every seller you spoke too.

The gentle squeeze of your hip following your words has you hiding a grin in the fabric of your cloak.

"Do you have this in a smaller size? My ad'ika would look so handsome in it!"

Behind you there's a sharp intake of air and you know if you were both in the confinement of the ship he'd be pressing his lips against the skin of your neck, telling you how amazing of a mother you are.

Surprisingly it only took those two comments for him to finally break.

"You-," Din forced out through clenched teeth. It's most definitely supposed to sound like a warning, but it comes out more desperate than anything else, "-need to stop."

He led you into a small alleyway and you stepped as close to him as possible without knocking your hat off, "Stop what?"

"Saying things that make me want to kiss you."

You licked your lips slowly, not missing the way your husband's hand flexed against the top of his thigh, and nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders, "Well, if you had kissed me this morning before getting ready-,"

"That's what this is about? Because I forgot, for the first time ever mind you, to kiss you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."

Din reached his arms up and back, fingers closing around the fabric of his cloak and brought it up and over to cover the both of you.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting things right," He replied, nudging your foot with his own. Normally he'd wrap a hand around your back but since he's unable to, he'll settle for any form of contact he can get, "Take off that stupid hat, then take off my helmet."

"But babe we're in public, there are kids here and you know how Mandalorians view-"

Din growled, one hand shifting to hold the cloak up and the other carelessly knocked your hat off before gently cupping the back of your neck, gloved fingers curled underneath your ear to settle in the softness of your hair. His helmet met the warmth of your skin. You jumped a little bit at the sudden coldness against your forehead.

He chuckled and pulled you flush against his body. It made it harder to take his helmet off like this, but you managed. You reached up, fingers curling beneath the top of your husband's chest plate and pulled him down to you.

Din surged forward, not patient enough to wait for you to kiss him, his lips brushing against yours in the softest apologies, swallowing your groan of approval.

[cardierreh15]

Not a question but I only read one of your works and fell in love with it! Since I joined the Henry Cavill fandom your work quickly became my top five!! It makes me vision myself with him in reality lol I tried to continue on but I believe the links aren’t working . But anyways I’m definitely a big ass fan of yours now!!

Aw 😭😭😭 why I’m crying in the club rn?! I thank you for your kind words 🥹 I am so sorry about the links! I’m working on that. Can never have shit too organized on this app cause they’ll just screw it up anyway lol give me til sunday babe. It should be fixed then 💕

[chemicallady]

Heyyy, would you possibly be able to do a Noah Sebastian story that is like a brothers best friend dynamic? I live eat and breathe this stuff lol

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: slight mention of sexual intercorse. Nothing too deep, I'm saving it for next Chapters

Summary:  you're a real mess, your life is turning into a living hell, so your brother Matt convinces you to move in with him in LA and start working for the band he's taking care of

A/N: I dont wanna spoil to much in here, because... Well, you' ll see. English is not my native language and no one peer review this ff. It's gonna be a world of fun, I already know it!

Important! I don't know Noah or Matt or any of the real people portrayed un this story. This is fictional!

Enjoy then 😏

Ouch, I've lost myself again

You've always been around, unseen. Having a brother like Matt could be a blessing and a nightmare in equal parts. You were feeded with stories about gigs and musicians while grow up with your older brother, who is dear to you in a way that actually you cant explain. Matt as always been your twin flame even if you are younger than him. You grew up looking at him with a lot of respect and it broke your heart when he left Texas, moving to California. At the time you werent ready for the big change and your brother's friend were still a bit mysterious to you.

You were used to spend as much time as possible in his company, but with this fresh start for him, you just fell into the ordinary. Nothing against your life, by the way; your parents always supporting, best friends ready to drive you to the closer pub and deliver the best night possible, a lovely boyfriend who adored you in any meaning.

You loved the shit out of Shawn. He was your person, the one always there when you were in need. Your high school sweetheart. Maybe he wasnt your first kiss or your first fuck but he was the one who made you feel like it was worthy, living for someone else. The one who pushed you to improve yourself for your own sake, that helped you in finding a job for the local tattoo shop as a piercer when the school was over.

You did everything in your power to be the best girlfriend possible. You decoreted your shared flat in the warmest way possible. You turned down a good scholarship for that college in Montana, pissing your parents and brother for this lost opportunity. You gave up to your dream to be a writer because he had to stay in Texas and take care of his mom. You helped him through the loss, when she die.

But it wasn't enough.

You loved the shit out of Shawn and he loved you in return, but it wasn't enough.

Your relationship suffered a slow, agonizing death with multiple attempt of reanimation. Vacations togheter, a bigger flat, a cat.

Nothing compensate the distance between the two of you and he was the one brave enough to call it for a quit. You knew was gonna happen but it didn't hurt you less. Moving back to your parents, while quitting your job just to avoid to meet him everyday, took you to the bottom. Then the shutdown decided to kick you while you were already down, spending days in bed just listen music or watching anime whitout any chance to go out with your friends or for just a walk.

Everyone was really worried about you. You lose weight and that energy that always marked you.

And you stayed there, drowing in your own misery until Matt decided that enough was enough.

《 Pack your shit, you're moving in with me to LA. You're done making mom and pops that upset.》

The end of fall 2021 signed your rebirth. Matt found a bigger apartment for the two of you and Lucifurr, your vicious black cat which has an obsession in chewing cables and destroy everything paper made. You have always want to leave nearby the ocean and Malibu had a ton of opportunities to offer you. You started a yoga class the same week you moved, in order to make some new friends. Accoding to Matt, there are a lot of things to do around the band he is working with, Bad Omens.

You offer yourself as a merchgirl, but since you're a good writer an even better in tolerate people bullshit (you have to be karmatic, all the teens who came to get a piercing to the shop have always made a scene in front of needles), you could be perfect as a PR/assistant for the band. You remember them barely because someway somehow, these are the guys who steal all the time Matt has. Time that you never get.

You remember this four guys with long hair, basic metalheads, except for the drummer. You remember when you gave him the nostril after a show in 2015, maybe 16, and he took it like a champ whitout complaining. You remember the singer, this slenderman type of guy with beautiful long hair that looks like silk. You've never felt more envy of someone else hair like that. And also the other three guys were nice, especially Vincent. The only one who you can connect to a familiar face because you two got a nice conversation on tattoos when you visited Matt, three years ago.

They are nice.

You've heard stories about them at every phone call.

But still, thieves of precious moments that you want have again in your life again between you and your brother.

All the missing birthday, all the call postponed due to technical issues. He wasn't there to pick up your pieces when Shawn get a rid of you.

And Matt wasn't supposed to, but being selfish, you wish he was there.

But he is now and this is enough to bring the light back to your life. The long talks after dinner, movie nights, everything is back to the normal between you two since you moved and it's restoring.

With this wave of good mood, even if you havent forgotten Shawn yet, you enroll to gym, so you can work out after yoga.

And is in this specific place that you meet Eric.

The first time you caught him lurking at you you were running on the thremill.

There is something familiar in him but still, you dont know anyone in LA. You were the one who actually landed the first conctact with this new alien subject, so introvert to avoid your eyes.

《 Today is hot as hell, right?》

Talking about the weather is the easiest card to play. He smiled a bit shily to you before answering. 《 Don't tell me, I hate how hot is in here. Are you new? I've never seen you around》

《 I just moved in with my brother, actually. 》

《 You're a southie for sure. I like your accent.》

You giggle at his words, while he gets some confidence, passing a hand through this short hair. 《 you got me. You don't sound californian as well》.

《 Maybe because I'm not》. There was a moment in which he seemed to be doubtful, like he changed his mind and he didn't want actually to talk with you. He looked at you with a weird expression, like he realised something was off. 《 What's your name?》, he asked then, almost suspicious.

And then you lied. You rarely give your real name to strangers. A self defence mechanism for girls. 《 Vanessa. You?》

He looked more relaxed, 《 Eric.》

《 Nice to meet you Eric... Do you know a nice bar around? 》

《 Maybe I know a place 》 he reflected, smiling a bit malicious. He was definitely flirting. 《 Can offer you a beer or something? Just to welcome you in town.》

You are not ready for a new story yet, but after almost a year after you broke up with Shawn, you needed at least some human conctact. Eric was nice with you since the beginning. He invited you to this dive bar after the gym a couple of times, not far from your place. He paid for you a couple of cocktails while having a real nice Conversation. A superficial one, about the tattoos that covered him. About living in LA. You mentioned your brother a couple of times and he talked about his roomates and all the crazy things they have done during the pandemic.

He told you he is a Producer and you told him you're still unemployed.

One way or another, he got closer to you in a matter of days. And when he kissed you, you obliged and kiss him back. One thing leaded to another and the two of you ended fucking in the back of his SUV. And oh boy... you needed it so much. It was a quickie, but he seemed to be promising. His long fingers stimulated you untill you cried out for pleasure. His mounth divoured you inch by inch. And his cock....

He knew how to use it, let's say that.

After, he gave you his number and the two of you planned to see each other by the end of the week, at the gym, after your yoga class and his class of jujitsu....

The morning after you're fresh and relaxed like you weren't in months. Matt tends to be overprotective so you didn't told him about Eric while you were having breakfast. You need to know this guys deeply before accept that you know have a situationship. And your brother doesn't need to know about you screacting you itchies.

He has a hot temper when someone looks at his dear little sis.

After breakfast you got ready to meet the band again after almost three years.

《 I can't believe Vincent quitted. He was the nicest.》

Matt sighs while driving to the guys' house, mentally focused on the traffic. 《 youll see him when we'll be in Virginia, don't worry. 》

Your eyes slip on streets and houses, wards and parks but you still feel like You're in a new country. You don't know how much it will take to get used to California.

《 here we are》 , Matt says, parking. 《 let's refresh the rules.》

《 Oh c'mon, I'm not twelve anymore》

《 y/n 》

《 alright! I don't have to embarrass you while you're free to be mean on me. I don't have to embarrass myself talking shit just because I'm nervous and if the music sucks, I can't tell your precious Noah.》

《 You can do better but, more or less, that's it. Lets go. I need another coffe and maybe something sweet before start to film the music video. 》

It's so weird filming inside a house and not in a proper set but all this low budget bullshit are quite the normal for small bands, you think.

You have to be their assistant and eventually a PR- so Matt can stop to bitching on twitter all the time- and you know nothing about bands.

According to Matt, you're going to learn quick.

According to Matt. You know that he picked you up for the job so he can force you to write what he wants.

And continuing to bitch around through you.

The guitar player greets you at the door and introduces himself again as Jolly. The rest of the guys minus Noah are in the garage. It's marvelous how Orie, one of the guys who lives here, a director, reorganize the space with tubes and flashlight.

《 What's the name of the song, again? 》 you ask to Nick Folio, whos already youre favorite.

《 Artifical Suicide》 it's the answer, while he takes his place back behind the drums.

《So emo》 it's your honest observation that makes him laught. Matt looks at you in a way that if he could, you would be incinerated where you're standing. You're already embarrassing him.

Nice.

You regret nothing.

It's a lil sister job to make her brother in troubles, that's what pops always says.

Mike brings you a coffe that you accept with a smile, than tells everyone the news about the singer that is still not here.

A diva, of course. That's your first thought. Every singer is a natural diva.

《 He is still looking for the glove.》

《 He would lost his head if it wasn't attacked to his neck》 , a solid comment arrives from Ruffilo, immediatly followed by an annoyed reply from behind you.

《 I can ear you motherfucker. You are- what the fuck?》

You turn in time to face the famous singer and almost choke with the coffe.

《 Yo Noah, do you remember my sister, y/n?》

You see Noah turning pale for a second while trying to say something in return.

You're also speechless for a second, before putting your shit togheter so Matt wont finds out in the first five minutes. 《 Howdy! You... you cut your hair. Nice. I didn't know》

You didn't.

That's why was so easy for Noah to be Eric for almost a week. For a hook up with you. His best friend sister.

....Splendid.

You're fucked.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉

word count: 4.7k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: ugh I'm FINALLY starting to write/post this... it feels like I've been stewing over this single idea for MONTHS lmao!! 😩😭 a big thanks to all of my amazing stay writer friends in the writer's club... ya'll are so fucking lovely and I adore you're continual support of my work!! 🥹 I have no idea how many parts this will be, but I'm anticipating for it to be at least 20.k words so... there's that haha! hope ya'll enjoy, and lmk what you think - your thoughts are always welcome! 💞

🌊 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

“Hey Y/N, can you please get the next table? I think Jordan just seated another customer.” Your best friend Yeji asked you in a light, cheery voice. She was walking past you into the kitchens, both hands full of dirty dishes, her midnight black hair blowing in the breeze that rushed into the restaurant from the open windows that lined the entire place. 

 “Sure thing babe!” You gave her a playful wink, offering up a faint smile before you finished helping ring up another customer’s order. 

 Just like every other weekend, your parent's restaurant - Angel Waves - was bustling with activity, as a solid line formed outside the doors with patrons waiting to snag a seat in the popular joint. A mix between a tropical tiki bar and a fish shack, Angel Waves - or AW for short - was located just off of the beach. With a wrap-around porch and huge bay windows that offered stunning views of the beautiful cerulean sea just a few feet away, AW had been a critically-acclaimed restaurant by the locals for decades. 

 Initially, it had been your father’s dream to open up a restaurant. But then he married your mother, and things took off soon after the wedding. In no time at all, she was pregnant with you while simultaneously helping your father build the restaurant from the ground up. To date, he had added three more parts to the place, making it rather expansive. With the bright neon signs and fire-burning torches that lined the perimeter of it, AW could be spotted on the shoreline from miles away. The inside was decorated rather plainly, with bright pops of tropical colors here and there and wooden chairs lined throughout the area. 

 But at night, the vibes of the restaurant came to life. As the patrons at the seated bar grew louder, the tropical music increased in volume and added to the overall atmosphere of laid-back tourists and locals alike. 

 Having grown up in Bridgeport Bay, which was a small seaside town in the East part of Australia, you were used to the leisurely way of things. But to some, it would seem like everyone around was just lazy. When in fact, people knew how to have a good time - and that was all that mattered to a lot of locals. 

 Including yourself. 

 Your parents had raised you in the small house that was just off the backside of the restaurant, so the tropical way of life had always been the only thing you had known. You didn’t mind living the same daily routine - waking up early to help with chores, then attending classes at the local university, before arriving back at the restaurant in time to help with the night shifts. Plus, it helped that one of your best friends, Yeji, had been working with you at the restaurant since she was a young teenager. 

 Now, at the tender age of twenty-two, you were well acquainted with your surroundings. You were set in stone about what you wanted to do with your life. And after you finished getting your degree in Environmental Science, you hoped to aid in the environmental impact of Bridgeport Bay, since environmental efforts were one of your biggest passions in life.

 As you stared around the dimly lit restaurant that was busy with customers and servers alike, you felt yourself come alive under the energy of it all. And getting a hint of the salty sea breeze on your tongue, you made to help the newest customer in placing their order. 

 The early June sun was just beginning to set over the horizon of the ocean, painting the brilliant light blue sky in shades of violets and fuchsias. Your attention was momentarily pulled away from your task at hand, as you were completely captivated by the look of the rippling water shining underneath the fading sunlight. 

 But you quickly snapped yourself out of your daze, already grabbing hold of your notepad and pen as you came up to the new table you were waiting on. Without looking up, you began to write down the time and your name on the top corner of the paper, like you always did before taking an order. “Hi, welcome to Angel Waves. My name’s Y/N and I’ll be your server. What can I get started for you tonight?” 

 There was a pause on the customer’s end, and the noise of the restaurant overtook all of your senses for a few moments, but then everything dimmed out into a faint hum as the customer spoke. 

 “Hi… Y/N.” 

 Immediately, without even giving it a second thought, your head shot up from the piece of paper on your notepad that you had been previously staring at. 

 Heart hammering in your chest, throat constricting in anxiety, with the flush already clawing up your neck and pooling in either of your cheeks. 

 All at the sight of… 

Him. 

 Lee Felix. 

 The boy that you had grown up with. The one that had moved in next door to your restaurant when you were five years old. The one who had attended preschool, middle school, and high school with you. 

 The boy who had been your best friend in the entire world for over a decade. 

 And also, the single most person whom you hadn’t talked to in over four years. 

 But no- he was no longer a boy. 

 No- as he sat there, peering up at you with that familiar face of his, you suddenly came to acknowledge the years that had passed between the two of you. 

 Evidently, his time away at university for four years in South Korea changed him. Drastically. 

 From the long, sandy bleached-blonde locks that fell across his forehead, to the milky, blemish-free skin. His eyes were darker, too. More intense. And the sharp lines of his face were almost startling - with a jaw that could cut through steel, a proud nose, and prominent cheekbones. 

 He was no longer the awkward and geeky boy he had grown up with. The boy who had short, cropped black hair in his senior year of high school and braces for three years, and cystic acne that lasted well into his junior year of high school. 

 He looked… 

 Like a fully grown man. 

 And you didn’t know how to feel about that. 

 It made your stomach turn in a sickening kind of way. Made your heart pound against your ribcage painfully. 

 He was staring up at you, watching your blatant perusal of him in silence with a ticked-up, perfectly manicured dark eyebrow. 

 But some things hadn’t changed, at least, as he flashed you that tiny, easy smile he always seemed to have plastered on his face. 

 “F-Felix- wow, hi. I-” You began, stammering over your words in your utter surprise. You felt your eyes widen from your stupid blubbering, and the panic chilled down your spine from the way that he laughed heartily at your reaction to him sitting in front of you. “It’s uh- good to see you again, holy fuck.” 

 “Yeah, you too…” He finally pulled his gaze from yours, offering you some respite from the intensity of his matured eyes. You took in a deep breath as his focus scanned over the restaurant all around you. “Glad to see this place hasn’t changed one bit since the last time I came around these parts.” 

 “What brings you back to the coast?” You asked, rocking onto the backs of your heels like you always did when you were nervous. Bridgeport Bay was a small town that was connected to a set of other ones similar to it, which all lined the same coast of Eastern Australia. 

 After all, soon before he left to study in South Korea, he had vowed to you that he’d never step foot in ‘this hellish beach town’ ever again. 

 Obviously, he had proven himself wrong. 

 He shrugged broad shoulders, making you realize how much his physique had changed too. He was fitted in a loose t-shirt and faded jeans, but you could just barely make out the outlines of muscles underneath the baggy fabric. His back was proud and he sat up completely straight in his chair, the opposite of how he used to be in your childhood - always slouched and with thin, frail limbs. He was still petite in stature, but now made up for his lack of height with muscle. Even so, he still outranked you in height by a good three inches. 

 He was acting like it was no big deal - like none of it was a big deal. Not him coming back to Bridgeport after such a long time and looking so different from how you had known him as. “I just graduated, so I decided to spend the summer back at my parent’s place before I decide what I wanna do with my life.” Felix leaned over in his seat then, leveling you with that stare he always gave whenever he was trying to get a read on your feelings. “What about you? I see you’re still working for your folks…” 

 His voice trailed off. And if you didn’t know him any better, you’d assume that he had a pretentious air about him. Sure, he was the scrawny boy that had shipped off to South Korea, only to come back four years later looking hot as hell with a solid education and most-likely loads of crazy stories to tell to everyone who’d listen. 

 You, on the other hand, were still stuck in the same position that you had always been in. Living in Bridgeport Bay, in your parent's house, and helping work the restaurant while attending school at a nearby university. 

 It was comforting, in a sense, to have the same daily routine. But you could also acknowledge the fact that Bridgeport Bay was a fairly quiet place - in other words, not much happened. Most people your age had already moved away as soon as they graduated from high school, either traveling to the big city of Sydney to get a degree or going overseas to bigger and better places.

 And there you were… still stuck in the same turquoise-walled bedroom from your childhood, with the same group of three friends, and waking to the same view every single morning. The brilliant pinks and oranges of the sunrise against the ocean water got old in about… two days. 

 Folding your arms across your chest, you almost felt like you were trying to protect yourself from him. Lee Felix, who had been your childhood best friend. But who, unbeknownst to you, had turned into this ethereal, untouchable beast of a man in the absence of your friendship. It felt foreign and odd, to have him studying you so intently with those dark eyes. “Yeah, I’m still living here in Bridge… same friends, same habits, you know how it is around these parts.” You tried to laugh off the awkwardness you suddenly felt, but your tone came out all flat and warbled. 

 Felix was still staring up at you, but this time, his gaze melted exponentially. So much so, that it suddenly felt like you were the one staring into his soul - picking apart his emotions as he sat there in front of you, head tilted up in curiosity. And the feelings you saw dance across his eyes, for just a split second, made your heart tumble in the pit of your chest. 

 “Same friends, huh?” He asked, but it wasn’t a question he was seeking an answer for. After that, his focus was yanking away from you, as he looked down at the menu before him on the table. You watched his adam’s apple bob up and down, throat constricting as he took in a sharp breath. 

 You could feel the air shift around you as soon as you mentioned friends. Because besides Yeji and Felix, the only other person you had truly had a connection with in Bridgeport Bay was… Christopher Bang. The two of you had met during your freshman year of high school and had been quite inseparable ever since. You had a raging crush on him, and apparently, he had one on you too - since he had asked you out on your first-ever date at the start of your final year in high school. 

 By the time you all were graduating from Bridgeport Bay High, you and Chris were the it couple. With him being the popular soccer jock, it was only right that you started to get popular as well - since you were the ‘hot girlfriend’ who was always hanging on his arm. Chris was nice and funny and was friends with literally all of the high schoolers in the area, so you liked being around him. 

 But the more time you spent with him, the less you spent with Felix. And by the time graduation rolled around, your friendship had suffered big time from your new relationship with Chris. Felix didn’t approve at all of the two of you guys dating. He had always waved off your swooning throughout the years as ‘hormonal imbalances,’ but as soon as the two of you became official, his entire tune changed. 

 All of a sudden, he was getting angry at you. With such a short temper, he would have outbursts during most of your hangouts. And it wasn’t until the night of your graduation that all of the building tension finally broke, like a pinprick to a fragile balloon full of water. 

 The night had ended in a colossal blow-up on both of your ends - with Felix’s anger exploding in your face and making him out to be some ugly, dark boy. And definitely, not the kid you had grown up to love and care for. During the argument, he had finally admitted that he hated Chris' guts - that he saw right through his little scheme, and he thought the guy was a horrible match for you. 

 Of course, you retaliated tenfold by throwing his singleness in his face. Since, during the entirety of your high school years, he had never once dated any girl. That insult was low for even you, and soon had him storming off the scene, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat from your stubbornness. You hadn’t listened to him the whole time, only registering the fact that he didn’t approve of you and Chris being together. Like he was your fucking dad and he needed to give his consent to every man you loved and dated. 

 And that turned out to be the last time the two of you ever saw or talked to each other for the next four years. Since just a week after graduation, Felix had completely vanished from Bridgeport Bay. When you went over to his house to make things up, his parents informed you that he’d already left for South Korea earlier than expected. 

 His absence didn’t fully register until you tried to call and text him that night, only to be left with an error message in return. Since he was moving to a different country, he needed to change his phone number. He had already informed you of such a thing weeks earlier, and the two of you had planned on setting up a special app where you could text. But the two of you had forgotten about such a detail in the business of graduation season, so there was no way to contact him. 

 Instead, you were faced with living in the wake of his departure - you were forced to relive the big fight between the two of you for months after that, rehashing things and stewing over all of the feelings again and again. And finally, after a year of being heartbroken over the shattered friendship with your best friend in the entire world, you decided to move on. 

 To bigger, and better things. 

 Like the friends you still had in Bridgeport Bay, going to university, and working at the restaurant. 

 And, Chris too. 

 Since your relationship had only blossomed from there, having quickly turned into a four-year ordeal of fun dates and long night chats and walks along the sandy beachside in the late afternoon sunset. 

 “I’ll have the salmon bowl with brown rice, please.” Felix’s deep timbre pulled you out of your daze of thought, shocking you back into the present. You were still standing there at his table, in the middle of a busy dinner rush, waiting for his order. “Oh, and a side of fried pineapple rings too.” 

 “Okay, and what kind of drink would you like with all of that?” You asked, mind turning off and zoning into work mode as you wrote down his order. “We have all kinds of-”

 “I know what you guys serve, Y/N. I’m not a complete idiot.” 

 His deadpan retort came out in that unfamiliar voice of his, automatically ripping your eyes away from your notepad. 

 And there he was, peering up at you again. 

 But this time, his eyes were a lot more hooded - darker, even. Swimming with tension, his sharp jaw pulled taut in what appeared to be annoyance. 

 Before you could even get another word out, he was speaking again. In that raspy, deep tone, and you had no idea how you could get used to all of the changes at once. “I’ll take a coke- if that’s okay.” 

 You nodded, once, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. It was heavy and hard to move to form any more words, so you decided against talking and just flitted away from his table altogether with his order. 

 As you were passing by the open bar, you tossed Jordan, one of your coworkers, a pointed look. “Take care of table seven for me, will ya?” You motioned with a slight tilt of your head to where Felix was sitting across from the window. 

 Jordan frowned, eyes turning to slits as soon as he registered who was sitting at the table. The two of you had never been particularly friends, since he was a few years older than you. But he had been working as a waiter/bartender at AW for the past seven years and knew all of the regulars who came by. He also knew who Felix was, and what he meant to you. 

 “The little bastard giving you any trouble, darling?” He asked in a low voice as he slid a full glass of craft beer across the porcelain countertop to a waiting elderly man. “I can take care of him if you-”

 “What? No, no,” you said frantically, waving your hands in the air to stop him from going any further. Eyes shifting back to Felix, you registered the way that he was sitting there, shoulders slightly slumped in his seat, as he stared out the large window to his left side, examining the lapping waves of the seashore. “No- I just… I can’t handle all of… that tonight.” 

 Jordan gave you a soft smile, flashing a wink your way before he was back mixing another cocktail for a new customer. “You know I’ll always cover for your ass, baby girl.” 

 You giggled quietly at his absurd pet names. You knew that he was never seriously calling you any of them, but it was more in an affectionate, brotherly kind of way. Plus, he was viscerally gay, so you never had to worry that the nicknames were ever alluding to more than just a coworker-to-coworker friendship. 

 By the time you left the bar where Jordan was busily working and filed into the kitchen, you were once again swept up in the chaos of it all. Servers and managers bustling about, chefs shouting orders out at each other. And in no time at all, your mind was drowned in your work and you no longer could hold any space for the thought of him. 

 Yeji failed to catch sight of him in her busyness, which you were thankful for. She and Felix had been friends in high school, but no one had been as close to him as you had. At least, until your colossal fight on graduation night. Then, even you weren't close to Lee Felix.

 The night passed by rather quickly, as you heeded your parent's commands and helped out with the dinner rush as best as you could - taking orders, scrubbing dishes in the back of the kitchen, and cleaning up tables after customers had left their spots. 

 By the time closing hour was nearing at eleven o'clock, most of the customers had left for the night - save for a few couples dispersed throughout the place and a rowdy group of men who had steadily gotten drunker on their liquor as the hours passed. Jordan was somehow managing them swimmingly, playing into their flirtations and pouring them drinks that were ‘on the house,’ but really, just made a bigger cut in his tip paycheck.

 You were so invested and focused on your work at the register, as you sorted through all of the orders from that night, that you failed to notice the shadow that was slinking across the wall, coming towards you steadily. 

 But finally, the dark figure was upon you and snaking two strong arms around your waist, pulling you away from the front counter and pressing your back against a chiseled chest. 

 Already sensing who it was, you giggled softly and turned your head up to look into the eyes of your boyfriend, Chris, whom you had been dating for the past five years. He had always said that he didn’t want anything ‘too serious’ and that he was happy with just dating you until the last of his days. And to be honest, you weren’t complaining all that much. 

 Although, you sometimes got bothered by the thought of never getting to marry the man you had loved for so long. Once in a while, you’d get into this odd annoying spell where you’d be angry that he never wanted to make a complete and solid life with you - and instead wanted to continue dating happily like the two of you were still in high school. 

 But in the end, you always managed to push those frustrated thoughts away, deeming everything to be alright since you could do anything if it meant living the rest of your days out with the love of your life, Chris. 

 “When did you get here?” You asked, as you reached up and twisted a few fingers through his midnight coils. They were curly and stood up at all different ends, something you had always loved about him. That, and his killer body. 

 “Just a second ago- thought I’d surprise you and take you out to dinner after your long, hard day at work…” His voice trailed off, as his hands squeezed down on your shoulders, long fingers massaging the aches and pains away. 

 You felt a sly smirk already starting to spread across your mouth as you leaned into him and pressed a wanting kiss to his lips. When you pulled away, you were talking in a quiet voice. “Give me a few minutes, I’m almost done with my sorting.” 

 Just as you tried to escape from his grasp, Chris tightened his hold over you, arms encircling your waist and pressing your ass into the front of his sweatpants. You could feel the hardness there, just through the line of the thin fabric. 

 Oh, so we wanted the night to result in that kind of date. 

“Nah- I’m not letting you go,” he mumbled in a deep voice, mouth coming close to your ear as he whispered into it, warm breath fanning against the exposed span of your neck. “Been thinking about you all day baby, want you so bad tonight…” 

 He let the rest of his words trail off, forcing an ugly blush to bleed into either of your cheeks. Then he was spinning around so that he was completely facing you. The darkness of the restaurant cast a shaded glow over his broad shoulders, as he pressed into you with a sardonic smile plastered across his face. 

 “What’s so funny, mister?” You asked, tracing a finger over the line of his jaw as he tilted down into you and gave your nose a light peck. 

 “Nothing, just… I love riling you up like this when you’re at work. Feels… exhilarating.” 

 Then you had no time to react, as his face was moving and capturing your lips up in a lustful kiss. His mouth was plush and familiar against yours, and immediately, you were melting into his firm grasp, moaning softly at the way that one of his hands trailed down the curve of your ass, squeezing the covered skin there. 

 You guys were practically making out at the front counter of the restaurant, for everyone else to see. And in most normal circumstances, you’d feel embarrassed. But at the moment, you just felt overwhelmed with love and desire for your amazing, handsome boyfriend Chris. 

 As your fingers carded through his curly locks, bringing his face closer to yours as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, asking for entrance, your eyes shot open. Scanning the entire room, your focus caught on the front door, and the person who was slipping out of it in silence. 

 And there he was, once again.

 Lee Felix. 

 Your once-best friend, 

 Your once long-time neighbor, 

 Your once-classmate for more than ten years. 

He was standing there at the front door, halfway stepping through it. But his body was turned around so that he was staring straight at… you. As you were practically getting groped by your boyfriend in the middle of Angel Waves, as your mouth was getting absolutely devoured by Chris’ lips. 

 And the look he gave you then, as your gazes locked in a shocking bout of tension, left you feeling both furious and confused all at the same time. 

 His eyes studied your form, which was so tangled up with your boyfriend’s at the moment. And even from across the room, you could see the feelings that crossed his coffee-brown irises as he watched you in silence. 

 There was sadness there, 

 And pain, too. 

 But also… 

 An irrevocable amount of… ire too. 

 The heat of jealousy that you found there burned like fire in the back of your throat, making your heart tumble around in your chest and the butterflies to flicker around in a frenzy just inside your stomach. 

 The sight of it all forced an agonizing zap of energy to course through your veins, rising your spine and causing gooseflesh to erupt across your skin. 

 Then, as quickly as you had registered it, it was all gone. 

 And he was leaving out the front door, the bell at the top of the glass jingling in the remaining trace of his departure. 

 There you stood, having to deal with the confusion that bled through your mind and the anxious jumbling that floated around your entire body. 

 And the worst part about it? 

 Was that the entire time, you had never stopped kissing Chris. 

 Never stopped yanking on his locks, allowing Chris to take parts of you in front of everyone else. 

 In front of… him. 

 You had continued to feverishly make out with your boyfriend, all the while your attention had been distracted on Lee Felix, and the way that he had stared at you so wholly and starkly. 

 Almost like, the two of you were playing in a silent battle of the wits. 

 With him, having always disapproved of your relationship with Christopher Bang. 

 And you, having been in love with Chris for the past eight years. 

 In the end, you had chosen your respective sides - what with you dating the love of your life, and Felix sitting on the sidelines, giving you an air of rebuttal as he stared on in barely masked disgust. 

 But you didn’t care what he thought. You weren’t living for him and you didn’t give two shits about any of his opinions. Especially after everything that had happened and from the way that you hadn’t spoken in literal years. 

 Yeah, you definitely didn’t care about what he thought. 

 So why, then, did the look he give you just before he left the restaurant, cause your heart to race so much? 

 Why did it cause a cold sweat to break out across your brow?

 Why did it flood your mind so much, that you could no longer focus on anything else? 

 Like an intoxicating drug, like the most lethal of poisons, he was infecting your entire being. 

 With his changed physique and persona and voice and… everything. 

 But especially, the way that he had glanced at you so sardonically. 

 So darkly. 

 So painfully. 

 So… 

 Sinfully. 

To be continued...

🌊 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌊 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @/leyknxw a blue tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

[justauthoring]

redamancy [2/3]

*redamancy: the act of loving in return.

a/n: guess what olivia’s updating a year laterrrrrrr

word count: 2,878

warnings: honestly, this is basically yandere bakugou... heavy dubious content, implied sexual content, restraints, violence towards reader, bakugou is mean :(, villain!bakugou

part one!

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

You wake with a headache.

Your vision is blurred, the sudden bright light you find yourself faced with makes the headache worse as you try to adjust. First instinct is to sit up, a groan leaving your lips as you do, only then noticing just how soft whatever you’re on is. Your body sinks into it with every movement, and part of you doesn’t even want to get up.

Besides the headache, you’re not sure you’ve ever been this comfortable.

I didn’t want it to be this way.

But then you remember and everything snaps with a start.

You sit up straight, eyes cracking open with a gasp of fear as a flash of Bakugou flickers into your mind and you’re reminded of what had happened. Of how you’d seen Bakugou for the first time in years, how he’d apparently been waiting for you for all those years, and most importantly how he’d knocked you out and basically kidnapped you.

With a quick glance around, you realize you must be in his bedroom. It was painfully plain in decoration but completely clean; not a single thing misplaced or a spec to be seen. The sight almost brings a smile to your lips, remembering how you used to tease him back in your Academy days how he refused to ever leave his room a mess. It brings you back to simpler times, a wishful memory that you wish you could slip into if anything just to escape from this.

From what’s happened.

Shoto. That’s right. You’d tried to call him right before Bakugou slipped the clothe over your mouth. A quick glance around you tells you your phone isn’t anywhere near you, and it isn’t in your robe that you’d been left in.

Of course he wouldn’t leave your phone with you.

It probably wouldn’t work either—he’d smashed it right before you’d fallen unconscious.

Slipping your legs over, there’s an odd weight attached to your ankle, something black crossing your vision briefly before you blink, focusing on your left ankle. 

“What the—!”

Reaching forward, your eyes practically bulge out of your head at the large, clunky cuff around your ankle. It swallows it completely, and having worked in the hero industry for a few years now, you knew exactly what that cuff meant. Quirk-cancelling. Clearly, Bakugou didn’t trust you not to not try and escape (which, to his defense, you obviously would) and had taken the necessary precautions to eliminate that risk.

The same thing you’ve done with villains plenty of times.

Bending your knee, you pull your ankle towards you, pushing your fingers against the cuff and in between your leg, despite how it strains uncomfortably, trying to use what strength you had to pry the cuff off. It was useless, and of course you knew that—they were designed to not be able to be broken off so easily.

(Given that it would be a huge product malfunction if the villains you caught could easily just... break through them.)

“Asshole,” you hiss under your breath. It wasn’t just the fact that this meant your chances of escaping (which were already limited) were ten times harder, but the fact that this left you (also) ten times more vulnerable.

There had been a point in your life, depsite his loud and rash behaviour, you’d been certain Bakugou would never hurt you. Even when he yelled and got angry, he never got angry at you. Maybe it was the soulmate thing, or maybe it was more, you weren’t sure. You’d just known that no matter what, Bakugou would never hurt you.

And up until now, you’ve never doubted that.

But now?

Now you weren’t sure.

You haven’t seen Bakugou in three years, and the weeks before his disappearance had been weird and strained.

You had no idea who Bakugou was now, and with the ever-present factor that he was a villain? Well, that left you even more unsure. Not to mention, he’d kidnapped you! Put quirk-cancelling cuffs on you so you wouldn’t be able to fight back...

It was a sense of vulnerability you’ve not experienced. Even if you’d known Bakugou was stronger, you’ve faced strong villains before and came out the other side—why? Because you had your quirk. Because you were a hero. 

Now... Now you were no different than the civilians that fell prey to evil villains.

Letting out a light curse, you let your leg fall, taking in what you’re wearing. With a fearful swallow, you realize it isn’t what you’d been wearing when Bakugou had taken you. The silk robe you’d covered yourself in was gone and the cute pajama set of shorts and button up is replaced by a thin nightgown. The whole dress is held up by thin straps, that purposefully hang low, and the dress ends short, reaching just below your bum.

It wasn’t like before everything Bakugou hadn’t seen you. Hadn’t been with you. You both were young and inexperienced, but you’d once dressed yourself up in clothes just like this for him because you’d known he’d liked the sight.

Three years of being apart that and the fact that he’s a villain leaves you more than uncomfortable in such vulnerable clothing.

Not to mention he must’ve undressed you himself and put this on—an extreme invasion of privacy and a purposeful act to have you wearing something demure and delicant... all for him.

The sound of a door slamming shut pulls you from your thoughts and you leap to your feet, fear racing through your entire body. Your eyes snap towards the door to the bedroom door, hearing footsteps grow closer and closer. It was no doubt Bakugou. For all the information you had managed to gather on him, you knew he was working solo.

Bakugou wasn’t the type to take help from others. Being a villain didn’t change that.

As the footsteps grow closer, you’re hit with a sudden realization—where can you hide?

Your eyes snap around the room, peeling for any sort of hiding spot or escape, but you come up empty. It seems Bakugou very meticulously thought out your capture. There was a closet but the doors had been taken off, and the only other piece of furniture you could hide in was the bed, but that wouldn’t get your very far.

You opt for placing yourself as far away from the door as possible, curled into the corner with the lamp you’d found on the nightstand held protectively before you.

A second later, the door is opening.

Bakugou’s head peers in first, eyes glancing from corner to corner until they settle on your own. You force back the whimper that threatens to escape. No. You had to be strong.

As strong as you could be.

He steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him and you don’t miss the way his fingers work quick to lock the door behind him. (Shit.) The second the lock clicks, his eyes fall on back on you, smirking.

“You do realize that won’t do much, right?” He asks, hand loosely gesturing towards the lamp in your hands. Your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re holding it, but your hands also violently shake, flinching when he even just takes a step towards you. “I’m the world’s strongest villain and you think a lamp is gonna hurt?”

It hurts the way he sounds so proud.

“Ba-Bakugou—!”

He’s in front of you in a flash. You blink and he’s there, imposing and intimidating, simply pulling the lamp from your hands and setting it down beside him all without looking away or giving you any space. 

He’s closer than he’s been in years (or, at least, since he kidnapped you—) and it physically hurts. Your heart still yearns for him and your body reacts without your consent, aching for him and his touch despite how much you want to pull away.

Despite how much your mind screams at you not to.

His hand reaches forward, and you flinch, but then he’s grabbing you by the chin and tilting your gaze up to his.

“Katsuki.” He whispers, voice husky. “That’s my name.”

You shake your head still in his grasp.

He leans close, and Bakugou’s always been naturally warm so you feel it envelope you like a hug. Your body reacts, shivers running down your back, feeling exposed and practically naked as he presses his lips to the edge of your jaw.

“Katsuki,” he repeats, voice a mere murmur. “Say it.”

You let out a dejected whine; “...no.”

His free hand falls on you, grasping at your waist, eliciting a gasp from your lips as your entire body tightens, tensing underneath his familiar touch.

“Say it.” He growls, voice harsher than it had been before.

You want to give in. Your heart and your body and you ache for him... You have for three years. Dreamt about him, thought about him... wanted him. He was your soulmate, your other half—the one you were intended to spend the rest of your life with.

But—but...

“They say he killed... just under twenty civilians in his last raid. Brutally murdered them. Some of the bodies are still beind identified. Y/N... Bakugou isn’t who you think he is anymore.”

“—no!” 

The element of surprise allows you to successfull shove Bakugou off of you, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, a wild, panicked look in your eyes as you stare back at him. To your credit, he looks shocked even if briefly, before his faze hardens.

He moves towards you, “Y/N—”

But you step away, almost tripping over your own feet as you push yourself off the wall and try to create more distance between the both of you.

“No,” you repeat, desperate. “No... You kidnapped me! Put a quirk-cancelling cuff on me...” Feeling your eyes water, you find your grip on your strength wavering as all of it comes rushing to you, making you feel sick, making you feel like you can’t breathe. “You’ve killed and hurt so many people! Countless of innocents. You... You left me!”

“Y/N—!”

“I hate you!”

That gets him to stop. He halts, suddenly, body turning rigid and you blink, not realizing until a second later just what you said.

There’s a brief moment of complete silence. Neither of you say or do anything, just meeting each other’s gaze from across the room, your words hanging tensely in the air.

And then your feet move before you even realize, body turning sharply as you practically leap towards the door, hands reaching for the lock to the try to get the door open. Hands wrap around you just as the tips of your fingers reach the doorknob, a cry leaving your lips as you’re tugged back, lifted off your feet and then you’re thrown, weightless in the air before your back hits the bed, body bouncing in response.

You don’t have time to get up because Bakugou is faster.

It’s a wrestle of strength that you have no hope of winning as Bakugou grabs both of your wrists, pulling them up and over your head before pressing them against the bed. You can’t see what he’s doing, his chest in front of your face while his legs keep you pinned to the bed and then there’s something cold wrapping around both of your wrists and the distinct sound of something clicking echoes into the silence.

Bakugou pulls back but continues to straddle you, as you glance up, tugging on your arms when you realize he’s cuffed your wrists to the headboard of the bed.

“Wha—!”

Your chin is grabbed, head yanked until you’re facing Bakugou once again who leans over you. 

“You can’t hate me,” he hisses, and you try to ignore the fear at the sound of his barely concealed threat. “I’m your soulmate.”

“Ba—... Katsuki,” you whisper, afraid. Terrified, even. “I... please, don’t do this.”

“This is your fault,” he huffs, letting go of your face. “I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt twice but you’ve forced my hand. This is your life now. You’re mine... so you better get used to it.”

You inhale sharply. “I wanted to be with you! Don’t you understand that!”

Bakugou blinks, lips parting. 

“I was ready to give up everything for you! You left!” You’re inconsolable. Terrified, sobs wretching from your as you lay beneath Bakugou, restrained and helpless. “I searched for you everyday for the past three years! But you never let me find you... I wanted—I want to be with you but you’ve... hurt so many people.”

Bakugou leans forward again, but this time he’s gentle. His hands cup your cheeks, touch light as he shakes his head. “I did it all for you...” He whispers, eyes pleading for you to understand. “I did it so we could be together.”

You swallow thickly, shaking. “We were together...”

“You don’t understand,” he begs. “That... Deku... all of them! They wanted to keep us apart...”

Eyes widening, you pause.

“That’s what I was fighting with Deku about that day when I left... He wanted to keep us apart... said that he and shitty-hair and icy-hot—all of them would never let me be near you again.” He’s caressing your cheek, brushing back hair that had fallen in your face in the midst of everything. “So I had to leave... I didn’t want to leave you but I had to get stronger... So that one day we could be together and no one could keep us apart.”

Your lips part, trying to find your voice. That... That doesn’t make sense.

“But they... Why would they?”

“Have they left your side since that day?” Bakugou asks, shaking his head. “Have they surrounded you? I’ve seen you... with them. Together. All the time...”

“But... But it was never like tha—“

“Here. I’ll walk you home. It’s not safe for you alone out at night and I wouldn’t be much a man if I let such a pretty lady like you walk home alone.”

“Y/N-chan! Let’s have lunch together, my treat.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it for you, okay? You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

But...But—

All the touches, all the smiles and the help and...

Oh... Oh God...

Blinking, you turn to Bakguou. He’s watching you, closely, eyes never faltering, watching as the realization sinks in.

“But the... don’t they have a soul—“

“It’s just us, baby,” Bakugou whispers, voice gentle, warm. “Have you ever seen a name on them? Anywhere?”

You pause, thinking. And the answer comes quick. No.

You shake your head.

“You and me are special,” he explains, and you instinctively lean into his touch, unaware. “We’re made for each other. The only two in the whole world, you see? Just you and me. You’re mine and they tried to take you from me.”

“I...” Your voice fades, confused and baffled. 

But Bakugou’s never lied to you before and you don’t think just being a villain changes that... And he was right. Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima have hardly left you alone in the past three years, one of them was always by your side. Sometimes it was just to talk or help or do things for you... You’d always thought it was just friendly, but when you really thought about it...

It couldn’t be, could it?

That was... those were things Bakugou had done for you. Thing you’d wanted him to do for you.

“I didn’t know.”

Bakugou shushes, brushing away the tears you barely realized where still falling. “It’s okay,” he soothes, “you couldn’t have. They made you confused and tried to take you from me. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you but I had to get stronger, you see, so I can protect you. Protect us.”

You meet his eyes and you realize the look in his eyes is the looking you’ve been yearning for for the past three years.

None of what Izuku, Shoto and Kirishima did for you had mattered because they weren’t Bakugou. They weren’t who you wanted. They weren’t your soulmate.

You nod, smiling a little. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice shaking slightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay, baby,” he eases away your worries. 

You nudge at his hand, trying to lean up towards him. “I missed you so much, Katsuki...” You whisper, voice a whine. “I wanted you so bad... I missed your touch and your warmth and the way you made me feel...”

Bakugou oblidges, leaning towards you. “Me too, baby. So much.”

You instinctively move to touch him, only to be held back. “Ugh... Katsuki, I want to touch you.”

His hands move to your waist, keeping you pinned to the spot. “Not yet, baby. Your mind is still a jumbled mess. I’ll let you go but I have to make sure, okay?” You whine, moving to shake your hand but his grip pinches and your eyes fly to his, seeing the hardened look in his eyes.

Slowly, you nod; “okay...”

“Okay, what?”

“Okay, Katsuki,” you smile, “but... but please... I need you.”

And he smiles, wide and grinning, and you’re too dazed to notice the sinister look in his eyes as he laughs lightly; “oh, don’t worry, I plan to, baby.”

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

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

Writer's Note: Heeeeey, y'all!! I'm so, so, so excited to introduce this new story to everybody! I've been having a (horny) cowboy fixation for THE LONGEST time now after seeing a fanart of cowboy!Geto by the amazingly talented @sanjisblackasswife. Please go support a fellow black woman & go check out her work! I hope y'all enjoy the first two chapters! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

ONE: BUSINESS AS USUAL.

Another day, another face.

Another dance for a man trying to lift your dress up to get to your panties at this trashy saloon in the town of Blackwater. 

You try not to turn around and smack the customer sitting behind you reeking of whiskey and tobacco as he plays with the skirts of your short, short ruffled dress that you only lift up somewhat to show off your nylon stockings and garter belt as you wind your hips to the music playing on the piano downstairs. 

The sounds of the smooth piano tune and the miscellaneous chatter from the saloon are the only things keeping you from losing your cool on the guy who just can’t keep his hands off of you. Touching the dancers is forbidden according to your boss (and boyfriend) who owns the place that so many drunkards, business folk, and locals frequent. 

You would think that he would be less flashy with his whereabouts due to his illegal “side hustles”, but that isn’t any of your concern. If anything, it makes your life a lot easier. You look at the timer beside you on the nightstand near a bottle of empty moonshine and immediately stop your lapdance when it dings.

“Time’s up, sir!” you more than happily announce. 

The man, older with meaty hands and bad teeth, makes a sour face under his low-brim hat. “Damn, already?” he whines. “Ya can’t do that thing ya did with your hips just one more time, darlin’?” He gives you a sheepish smile that nearly makes you laugh. Is this guy serious? 

You shake your head, playing the part of the sweet but professional Southern gal just trying to make a dime. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got other customers waitin’ on me.” You put out a hand to him for your coin. “That’ll be $15, please.” 

Since you danced clothed, it is much cheaper than a lingerie dance which is $25 while a naked dance is $30. Many of the high rollers who come in here are able to afford the lingerie and naked dances, mostly to jerk off to the dancers as they watch them. You’ve had a few do so to you, but your boyfriend doesn’t mind as long as there is cash flow. 

But your customer doesn’t hand it over right away which is another normal occurrence here: bums who can’t pay or want to finesse you for a free dance…if not get you to have sex with them. You can already tell this one is looking for more than just a dance judging by the lecherous look he gives you.

“That was some dance, y’know,” he dreamily says. “I bet you’ve got all kinds of moves in the bedroom, dontcha, darlin’?” 

You do your best to resist the urge to roll your eyes from under your long lashes and instead perse your red lips at him that match your short red dress with its low bodice that shows off your cleavage and the slit at the thigh. “None of which you’ll be findin’ out about,” you firmly say. “Now please, sir, just give me the–” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he chuckles, putting up his meaty hands in mock defense. “Ain’t no need to get defensive…but unless you’re offerin’, I could give you way more than just $50 if you show me how good of a little dancer you can be on top of me.” He gives you a wink and you damn near vomit. You need to get out of here before you let the chopper sing. 

“Have a good night, sir,” you say, appalled, and turn on your heel to leave, but his hand on your wrist stops you. “What the hell are you doin’, you creep?” you snap.

The man yanks you back by your arm, trying to get you to come onto the bed with him. “C’mon, baby, don’t be like that,” he cackles, pawing at your wais. “Just gimme what I’m askin’ for and we can–” 

“Get the fuck offa me!” you yelp, immediately snatching the bottle off of the nightstand and smacking him upside the head with it.

The man lets out an “oof” as the bottle smacks against his skull, bursting into pieces of glass that you jump away from to avoid getting cut. You watch as he falls off the bed and smacks facefirst onto the floor with a thud that will no doubt alarm the saloon. 

And it does. The door barrels open and in runs Todo, the big, buff guard that your boyfriend put in charge of keeping the saloon safe. “Get your hands off of…” His rage subsides when he looks down and finds the man at your feet. “Her,” he finishes. His eyes tick up to you worriedly. “You’re okay?” 

“Yeah, now I am,” you huff. You bend down to check the man’s pulse, finding it pumping. “He ain’t dead––just unconscious.” Todo looks like he wants to ask you what went down, but the sound of boots stomping up the wooden steps stops him. Your boyfriend and boss stand in the doorway, shoving Todo out of the way despite him looking like an ant compared to the guard. 

Kenzo, the owner of the Blackwater Saloon, is an older, lean man with cropped, black hair, a beautiful face, and a goatee that only makes him prettier…except for his anger. “What the fuck is goin’ on up here?!” he hollers. “I’m tryin’ run a business here! Why am I hearin’ all this noise?”

Todo nods at you while shuffling into the room, acting as a wall between you and Yuri. “Why don’t you ask her?” he suggests. 

Though you appreciate Todo’s protection, you know that there isn’t anything Kenzo can do to hurt you…not unless you want him to turn him in to the sheriff and his men that are for sure sniffing around for him. “What the fuck, Y/N?!” he hollers. “You killin’ my customers now?!” 

“He ain’t dead, Kenzo,” you sigh. “He’s just unconscious and drunk. He tried puttin’ your girl on the bed and usin’ this bed for more than just sleepin’.” You give a Todo a subtle nod to leave and he does though he doesn’t look happy to do so. 

Kenzo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Babe,” he groans, frustrated, “this is the second time you got into it with a customer. The last one nearly got us sued!” You gape at him, pissed that he still blames you for that. “I didn’t even touch him,” you argue. “All I did was bump him when he kept gettin’ in my way and tried to corner me for a blowjob!” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Or would you rather I had done it for more business?” you hiss. Kenzo looks at you with those unnaturally blue eyes, the contacts he wears allowing him to conceal with natural eye color. “Baby, come on,” he whines, moving toward you. “You know that ain’t what I meant.” 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, willing you to look at him. “You just could’ve done it in another way,” he says. “All my other dancers don’t do shit like this.” You glare up at him, even more irked. “That’s because they’re afraid of gettin’ fired,” you snap. “Kenzo, the guy tried to force himself on me. What else was I supposed to do?” 

But Kenzo doesn’t look the least bit concerned with that, as usual, only thinking of himself. “Just call me or Todo next time, alright?” he sighs. “Besides, isn’t this a nicer job than workin’ at that whorehouse I found you in?” He smiles at you but it’s sharp and has a deeper meaning to it. 

You resist the urge to sock him. He knows damn well he wouldn’t fire you is the fact that you not only give him pussy but you also bring in the most business because of your pretty face, “exotic” skin, and body. He cozies up to you, taking your chin into his hand.  “Ain’tcha my girl?” he whispers. It is what he always asks you when you fight; something he thinks gets your panties wet when all it does is make you want to barf. 

But you bite your tongue and look up at him with a smile. “Yes,” you sigh. “I’m your girl.” He smiles too, showing you all of his gold teeth, and plans a wet, tobacco-flavored kiss on your lips that makes you sick. “Good girl,” he hums. “Now back to work you go. No bein’ mean now.” 

You do as he says and leave, earning a hard smack on the ass as you walk past him. You giggle fakely as you exit, finally losing your smile when you walk down the wooden steps in your black pumps to the saloon drenched in cigar smoke, whiskey, rum, and sex. Music and laughter explode from the crowded bar as you make your way to the bar where Shoko, your bartending friend, and Yuki, one of the other dancers, sit conversing.

You sit down on the stool next to Yuki with her long, blonde hair pinned up to elongate her gorgeous face and seductive eyes. “Handsy customer?” she says from behind her fan. 

You nod, huffing. “Shoko!” you yell, slapping the bar. “Gimme a shot.”

The bob-haired woman with the cigarette dangling from her lips nods, bumping Choso, one of the cuties Yuri hired a month ago that Yuki has got her eye on, out of the way. 

Once finished, she passes a whiskey smash–a cocktail with whiskey, mint, and plenty of cherries–to you. “Here ya go, missy,” she says and giggles when you down it. “Looks like you needed that…someone else too.”

She juts her chin at Kenzo hunkering down the steps, hollering at Maki and Mai, the dancing sister duo that the men adore so much, to end their break and get to work. 

“You know, the boss has been a bit on edge lately,” Yuki says, blocking her mouth with her fan to avoid anyone eavesdropping. “I wonder if he’s havin’ money issues still. Y’know, the word is that he can’t pay for this place anymore.” 

You and Shoko share a look. ‘Yeah,’ you think. ‘That’s why he’s got all these side hustles.’ Money laundering. Prostitution. Trafficking alcohol. Kenzo does it all. Hold habits die hard, you suppose. You’re the only one who knows who your boss really is. 

You’re the only one who knows that he escaped prison a year before he met you and invited you to join his saloon he only opened five months ago after hiding out last year. 

You’re the only one who knows that he only opened this saloon as a way to lay low from law enforcement. 

You’re also the only one who knows that he pulled off one of the biggest heists ever with the help of a certain gunslinging duo that you know will show up here one of these days to collect their coin. 

“Well, he gets enough business here,” you say, playing the role of the clueless girlfriend and employee. “I can’t understand why he wouldn’t have the money.” Yuki looks like she wants to respond, but a high roller sitting down next to her, much to Choso’s dismay, stops her short and she puts on the charm. 

Shoko leans across the bar to you, pretending to wipe the surface down with a rag. “I can’t understand why you don’t just take the money you made and leave like you planned,” she whispers. “You’ve been at this for five months, Y/N. You’ve gotta be sick of it.” 

You shake your head, passing her your shot glass for another hit. The whiskey has left a warm feeling in your gut and a buzz that you need more of. “No,” you firmly say. “Not yet.” 

Shoko only thinks you want to leave this dead-end job and Blackwater for a life somewhere else. She doesn’t know your real plan or why you’ve chosen to stay for so long. ‘And it’s only a matter of time until they get here,’ you think to yourself. 

That’s the only reason you decided to wait to kill Kenzo: to get to Geto and Gojo the Gunslingers. The duo that everyone across the wild, wild West seems to know and is afraid of. And you know that it is only a matter of time until they show up looking for your boyfriend who you’ll serve on a silver platter. Anything to have Geto and Gojo finally within your grasp. 

And when the doors to the saloon suddenly open with a loud slam that emits startled gasps from the saloon’s customers and employees, including you, you know that they have arrived: your targets.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Please make sure to check all warnings before reading. But if you do enjoy a story, maybe leave a comment and reblog to support your local neighbourhood fic writers.

Reading Lists

Book Recs

Azriel x Elain

Couldn't Keep Your Composure by @moodymelanist 🔥(AO3 link)

Please by DottieLovegood 🔥 (AO3 link)

Touch Me, Hold Me, Tell me by @thesistersarcheron 🔥 (AO3 link)

Bucky Barnes

Dangerous Game by @aquaticmercy

Love to Love You by @jobean12-blog 🔥

Of Black Ink and White Lilies by @aquaticmercy

Someone to Stay by @tmpestuous

You Told Bucky That He's Right by @brunchable

Cassian

Open Wide by @velarisnightsky444 🔥

Janeford

Afterlife by @moondancer71

Loki

Lies Like Liquid by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Loki's Island Fever by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 🔥

Original Characters

Obsidian by @snowkissedmonsters 🔥