#when you could take a really good guess at it

[in-class-daydreams]

cw. a lil age gap, but everyone is well over 18 (Gojo and Reader are ~40, Yuta is ~30)

Imagine the way ex-husband Gojo's eye twitches seeing how Yuta Okkotsu treats you.

You and Yuta had only seen each other in passing over the years. In fact, you never even officially met until he was several years out of school on the account of your innate technique causing Rika to go haywire. So while there was always a possibility of you seeing someone after the divorce, Satoru would never in his wildest dreams have guessed who it'd be. He'd heard through the grapevine that you only started seeing more of each other last year.

Satoru has to see you at the biweekly joint staff meetings between the Tokyo and Kyoto schools, made especially awkward after not one, but two (2) post-divorce make outs. The last time he kissed you while you were fighting, you shoved him away and booted him out of the house using your technique. Granted, you kissed him back, but you're not exactly on great terms right now.

So, it's bad enough that he has to see you as much as he does. Even worse is now that everything's out in the open, he has to watch you fawn over someone that's not him.

"You're so sweet!" you cry when Yuta surprises you during your lunch break with takeout from your favorite restaurant. "Thank you so much, but you really didn't have to do all this for me."

Yuta places a hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the door to the courtyard. Adjusting the picnic blanket slung over his shoulder, he asks, "Why not?"

"It's so much effort," you reply.

"For you? Nothing feels like much effort," Yuta says with a cheeky grin.

Satoru just catches a glimpse of you covering your face with your hand - as you always do when you blush - and then the two of you are out the door. It takes all his effort not to gag at how cheesy that was. Never mind how genuine Yuta looked about it.

Of course Satoru had taken you out for lunch while you were together. All kinds of lunches. Mom and pop shops, food stands, upscale restaurants, you'd done it all. Your new suitor wasn't doing anything for you that he hadn't done.

Suitor. What was this, the 1800's?

Suguru appears at his side while he stares after you.

"Was that Yuta?" he asks. "I'm impressed. He's supposed to be at a week-long training in Ibaraki."

Ibaraki? The prefecture that's over two hours away? He came all this way to have lunch with you?

Alright, Satoru never did that. Not that he wouldn't have! He totally would've if he'd, you know, thought of it.

Suguru seems oblivious to the emotional bomb he just dropped on his best friend. "I'm starving. Let's hurry up and go eat. I'm good with anything except KFC," he complains.

It takes a couple tries to get his attention, but Satoru eventually pulls himself out of his thoughts. He comforts himself with the notion that Yuta would be gone by the time he returned.

Imagine that while Yuta himself may be absent, his presence damn near haunts ex-husband Gojo to death.

You're already back in the meeting room by the time he and Suguru return from lunch, only you now have a full water bottle (he noticed you pout when you drank the last of it earlier), a sleeve of oreos sticking out of your bag, and a cute travel mug full of some hot drink that you definitely didn't have before.

If Satoru wasn't so preoccupied with insisting to himself that, 'I totally did things like that back in the day!' and provided his ex-wife wasn't the woman in question, he'd be thinking, 'Yuta Okkotsu, I was unfamiliar with your game.'

Even more frustrating is how energetic you look. You have your notes out and are nibbling on an oreo, kicking your feet back and forth as if there's not another two and a half hours left of this meeting.

It's not that Satoru doesn't want you to be happy. Quite the opposite, actually, since he'd gladly give his life if he thought he could guarantee your eternal joy and safety. He's just not sure what Yuta has that he didn't. Or doesn't.

"What does she see in him?" Satoru murmurs to himself later, when a bunch of the staff members go out for drinks. You're at the bar laughing with Yuki and Shoko.

He regrets speaking out loud when Sukuna snorts from behind him.

"How much time do we have?" your coworker says with amusement. He slides into the booth, nursing his sake bomb with ice. It's a travesty of a drink, if you ask Satoru, but to each his own.

"Great, it's my least favorite person," Satoru gripes.

Sukuna seems to take great pleasure in Satoru's misery. "I think Okkotsu's earned himself that title."

Now, Satoru hates the taste of alcohol nor is it ever a good idea for someone constantly using a cursed technique to get drunk, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment.

He snatches the drink from Sukuna's hand and downs the whole thing in one go.

Imagine how baffled ex-husband Gojo is when his son delivers a cursed artifact to him instead of you.

"Where's your mom?" he asks.

Sen hands over the small box covered in talismans while his best friend, Nao, lingers by the office door. Rolling his eyes, he says, "We had a mission in the area, so Sukuna-sensei had us deliver this."

"Not what I asked you, kid," Satoru replies, leaning back in his chair. He gestures for the boys to have a seat, but neither move.

Nao, who has a tendency to stir the pot if he thinks it'll be funny, pipes up, "She's on vacation for a week."

Since when did you take vacations? And why hadn't he heard of this?

"What's she doing for a whole week?" he asks.

Nao replies. "Okkotsu finished his training and whisked her away to some onsen in Obanazawa."

Sen smirks. "That snowy place that looks like it's from Spirited Away? How romantic."

"Super romantic." Stir, stir, stir, Nao Zen'in.

Sen was not a fan of anyone trying to get close to his mom. He'd seen how the divorce hurt you, but so far, Yuta worshipped the ground you walked on, so Sen was at least willing to not be too hostile towards him if it meant antagonizing his father.

Sen and his friend quickly say their goodbyes and head out to do whatever it is high school boys do. Once they're gone, Satoru pulls out his phone and searches 'onsen obanazawa.' The results show Ginzan Onsen, a place with traditional Japanese architecture with a beautiful snowy landscape. But according to the reviews, though a wonderful and charming place, it wasn't from the best onsen in Japan. He wants to scoff at the fact that his supposed 'replacement' chose anything but the best for you, but then he sees where Obanazawa is, which is in Yamagata prefecture.

Where you grew up. Where you and Satoru met.

How had it never occurred to him to bring you back there?

When he mopes on Suguru's couch later that evening, he tells his best friend the whole story. Suguru's delicate features are twisted into a grimace the whole way through.

"Why are you making such an ugly face?" Satoru asks miserably.

"I've never been ugly a moment of my life, Satoru."

"You know what I mean."

Suguru sighs and clicks his tongue. "They're not official?"

"So she keeps saying."

Though reluctant to kick his friend while he's down, Suguru decides that Satoru needs to know so he can mentally prepare himself.

"He's taking her on a romantic trip to a beautiful resort in her home prefecture. They may not be official now, but after a trip like that, there's no way she's coming back without a label. Hell, if they were official, she'd most likely be coming back with a ring."

Hearing that, Satoru contemplates finding a nice spot in the cursed artifact archive and falling into a coma for at least the next thousand years.

The plot McThickens

Find the other installments of this AU [here] | Find the #gojo sentaro lore [here] | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[zweiginator]

hi not to be insane but if you wanna elaborate on the Patrick/Art vibrator thought I’d love you forever and ever

being patrick's girlfriend and art is a virgin and much too nervous to go up to girls and ask them out. plus, patrick can tell he has a massive crush on you. he's always flustered and stumbling over his word when you're around. staring at your ass enough for patrick to raise his eyebrows at him.

and one day art is just lonely and sad. he feels inadequate as a college student with no experience under his belt, nobody to go on dates with. so he sulks enough for patrick and you to notice.

patrick hands him a new beer, asking if everything is alright.

it's then that he realizes art's eyes are a bit glassy.

"i just am jealous of you guys i guess." he shrugs and you and patrick exchange a glance.

"why is that?" you ask him, moving closer to him so you can rub his back.

"just what you guys have. i want that but I'm embarrassed 'cause i don't even know how anything works and im a vir--"

you know art is a virgin; patrick told you that in confidence. patrick cuts him off.

"you'll find someone. I promise you you will." he's bad at this kind of stuff, at comforting. but you continue to rub art's back and patrick moves next to him as well, mussing his hair.

"i'm not gonna know how to even do anything." he sniffles and patrick can tell that he really is upset. he really does feel inadequate and patrick knows of at least four girls with a crush on art but god he wouldnt even believe him if he told him about it.

so patrick offers to show you a lesson. nothing crazy, but just the basics. just to make him more confident. patrick asks you if that would be okay. you don't know what he means, but you suppose it's fine.

except you don't expect to end up leaning against your boyfriend's chest as patrick pushes your pajama shorts down, kissing your neck. art watches intently, mouth hung open. you lean into patrick's touch and grind against his hand. patrick whispers into your ear and art can tell you like what he's saying. he wishes he could hear it.

and art is enamored by the view he has of your pussy. how patrick spreads it open for art to admire. your clit swollen as you bury your face into patrick's neck. he reaches into your bedside table to get your vibrator out and you grow flustered.

patrick hands it to art; he's never seen him so embarrassed in his life.

"what--"

"turn it on." patrick instructs his best friend, who quickly finds the button.

it vibrates loudly and he stares at you two for more instructions.

"hold it against her clit." patrick rubs the swollen nub and your legs jerk, wanting to clamp shut. he pries them open, his big hands heavy in your flesh. "keep 'em open. we're teaching artie a lesson."

you nod as art slowly presses the toy against your sensitive clit. you yelp, hips jerking up to feel more vibrations.

"is that good?"

you whimper. "y-yeah."

you're wet; patrick can hear it and art can too.

"she fuckin' loves it. she's gushing." patrick presses hot kisses against your neck, kneading the flesh of your inner thighs as art applies more pressure.

you can see art's erection growing, just like you can feel your boyfriend's doing the same.

and as you cum, art's name tumbles from your mouth, your hands reaching forward to tug his shirt. art feels something change in him, a thirst for more.

he wonders if patrick will let you take his virginity.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your apartment is dark. You usually leave a light on but today, everything is off. That’s an understatement.  

You lock the door then check twice before you get your shoes off to make sure you really did. You put your knapsack on the stool next to the mat. The air stirs coolly and you shiver as you unzip your jacket and face the apartment. 

The entryway light leaks into the front room and limns over the side of the couch. You wade through the dark and flick on the lamp. Another ripple of wind flows around you. You leave your jacket on, half undone and cross the room as you stare. 

The window is broken. You stop and look down at the shards of glass across the floor. You glance back up at the frame, only a few pieces left in it. You don’t know if it makes you feel better that there’s no way that man would fit through there. Not really, that only means it could have been someone else. 

You take out your phone and dial out to your landlord. As you wait for the line to pick up, you turn on every light in your tiny apartment. You check the single closet and the shower stall and anywhere someone might hide. At least you’re all alone. 

Shit, you’re all alone. 

You cross an arm over your chest as the voicemail greeting rolls over and beeps. 

“Hey, Colin, yeah it’s apartment 1C. The window’s broken. Got home from work and... guess I’ll cover it up for tonight. Please call me back in the morning.” You hang up. What else can you do? 

You stare at the window. You don’t have anything really to cover it with. You keep your phone close and search for anything. The cardboard won’t keep anyone out but once sealed with a garbage bag it will at least block the wind.  

You finish taping up the edges and sigh. You sweep up the stray glass and toss it in a spare box. 

You’re shaking again. It’s too much of a coincidence. You know deep down that it can’t be. Yet, what good does that do you? If it’s not just a string of bad luck, then that means he knows where you live. 

You leave the lamp beside the couch on and turn off the rest of the lights. You hang your jacket then undress in the bedroom. You put on a striped sleep shirt and grab your pillow and blanket. You cast some mindless reality show to the television to fill the silence. 

You go to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your basic nighttime routine. You pause to look at your scalp in the mirror. You use a hand mirror to see it better. Ouch. You’re not too sure if you can do anything but hope that it grows back. 

You retreat to the couch and hunker down. The light will keep you safe. You hope. 

You can’t close your eyes. Your heart won’t stop thumping. You fidget and wriggle around on the couch. Your lashes droop and you feel yourself drifting.  

You give a start and sit up with a gasp as a loud bang cuts through your exhaustion. You grasp at your chest as you look around. Your television is on the floor, screen down, and a gust puffs through the open window. 

You look over at the cardboard and plastic as it hangs from the tap, shorn through. You shudder and hug the blanket around you as you stand. Shit. Was he in here? How... the window is too small-- 

You turn slowly and face the door. You locked it. You know you did. You double, triple-checked. You flip on the entryway light as you near the door. It’s not closed all the way. The door sits against but not in the frame. The latch is turned back and the chain is snapped. 

You push it shut and twist the latch. You stifle a sob and make yourself look through the peephole. It’s black. Something’s blocking it from the other side. 

You recoil and race into the kitchen. You grab the broom from where you left it leaning against the counter and go to the window. You aim the handle out the window and try to see out into the dark. 

“Go away!” You scream into the void. “Leave me alone!” 

Your voice echoes and evaporates into the city. You gulp and stare out. Waiting. Nothing. 

What do you do?  

It’s futile but your tape the window up again. With the cardboard torn through, it hardly makes a difference but you try. You think of calling the police. Maybe you should but the officer’s nonchalance deters you from the trouble. 

You lift your TV. It’s cracked. Broken. Half of it is black and the other half is a spectrum of colours. You put it back on the stand and unplug it. 

You pull the blanket tighter as you start another investigation around the apartment. The bathroom is untouched; the shower empty. The bedroom looks much the same but as you turn to the door, you notice the open drawer. 

You shut it without looking inside. You don’t want to think about that. You doubt he was looking for socks... 

Back in the living room, you sit on the couch, folding yourself up in the corner. You cling to your phone and hug your knees. You rest your chin on top and stare at the wall. Waiting. Dreading.  

He’s not going to stop. He’s toying with you. It’s clear that he could just walk right in and do what he wants. And when he decides to do just that, you’re not sure you’ll be able to do anything. 

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Sim Spice / Violence

DJ Plays: I Get Around- Tupac Shakur

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [When church and prayer stopped providing solace, I felt lost, just as the cards predicted. Thoughts of Vanessa continued to consume me, leaving me hollow and desperate to feel anything at all]

Becca: [whispers] Is this seat taken?

Nancy: [whispers] The bench is kind of full, Becca-

Becca: [whispers] It’s ok! I’ll just squeeze right in!

Geoffrey: [whispers] Oh. Hey Becca.

Becca: [whispers] Hii Geoffrey! Looking very handsome in your sweater!

Geoffrey: [whispers] Aw, thanks! Nancy dresses me. [chuckles]

Becca: [whispers] She obviously has such great taste.

Becca: [squeals] Go Geoffrey!! Woooo hooo!

Becca: Nancy! Nancy, did you see that? Oh, he is so athletic! No wonder, I mean he has the perfect physique for it.

Nancy: [sighs] Trying to study, please.

Geoffrey: [panting] Hey! Are you hungry?

Becca: I could eat!

Geoffrey: Oh! Well...I was kind of asking-

Becca: Oh! So, there’s this diner that I can take you to. I mean, the both of you! I’ve gone there since I was knee high and it’s sooo good! The best key lime pie you could eat and more. We’ll go after your practice, Mr. Hungry Man.

Geoffrey: [chuckles] Ok? Yeah, then it’s a date, I guess. Gotta get back to it. I love you, Nancy.

Becca: [sighs] Can I ask you a question?

Nancy: Sure?

Becca: Are you still a virgin?

Nancy: [hisses] Excuse me?! That’s personal, don’t you think?

Becca: [giggles] I’m not asking to be nosy, sister! I’m asking because I marvel at your strength in resisting temptation. Geoffrey is beautiful but your love for God is strong. I’m still pure too, by the way. I’m sure other girls struggle with those desires. Not us, right, Nancy?

Bob: I’ll leave you love birds to it. This eagle got a hot date with a cutie pie named Eliza. Don’t wait up.

Nancy: [snorts] Go get ‘em tiger!

Geoffrey: Be home at a decent time young man! No funny business!

Bob: Ok, dad! See you guys!

Nancy: So. Becca sure is your biggest fan, isn’t she? Always giving you eyes and pushing her big chest in your face. Is that what you like?

Geoffrey: [laughs] What? Where’s all this coming from?

Nancy: [rolls eyes] She’s always there, waiting for the right moment to jump on you. It’s infuriating.

Geoffrey: [laughs] Aw, come on, Nance. She’s just- being Becca. It’s nothing like that.

Nancy: So, I’m making it all up? Is that it?

Geoffrey: [softly] Hey. I only ever want to look at you, Nancy. You’re all I see.

Nancy: You promise? You’ll never leave me?

Geoffrey: I promise.

Nancy: Do you forgive me?

Geoffrey: [frowns] What-

Nancy: Just say yes, please. Say you forgive me.

Geoffrey: I forgive you.

Nancy: [breathlessly] I need you.

Geoffrey: I thought you wanted to wait? A-are you sure?

Nancy: [shakes head] Your mouth. Use your mouth. Hurry. Please..

Geoffrey: Ok. [swallows nervously] Ok, I’ll take care of you.

DJ Plays: I Get Around- Tupac Shakur

Back to get wrecked, all respect To those who break their neck to keep their hoes in check

‘Cause, oh, they sweat a brother majorly And I don't know why your girl keeps pagin' me

She tell me that she needs me, cries when she leaves me

And every time she sees me, she squeeze me—lady, take it easy!

Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me I don't want it if it's that easy

Eliza: [laughs] How do you survive being around all these dumb boys all day.

Nancy: It’s alot easier than it looks.

Teammate: We’re running low on ice!

Teammate: Make the freshmen get it!

Geoffrey: Ok, ok! I’ll get it!

Becca: Hi Geoffrey.

Geoffrey: Oh, hey Becca! What’s up?

Becca: You had such a great season. I bet you’re really proud.

Geoffrey: I’m just glad I finally found a sport I don’t suck at it.

Becca: Can I help you bring up the ice?

Geoffrey: Ahhh, sure! More the merrier.

Geoffrey: 4 should be enough, right? What do you think?

Becca: I think so too. You know, I was hoping to get some advice, if that’s ok.

Geoffrey: You want my advice?

Becca: I do. One thing this campus lacks are sensitive, beautiful men like you. Only you would understand how I feel.

Siobhan: Enjoying yourself, Nancy? One of the many perks of being a Theta are our legendary parties. Have you thought about pledging?

Nancy: I don’t know. Being around a bunch of women? I wouldn’t enjoy that.

Siobhan: Honey, there’s nothing more empowering than being around women, especially strong women. Look, we are hosting a charity fundraiser this weekend at the art gallery. You should come. We’ve invited all our alumnae as well.

Nancy: [stunned] My mother will be there?

Teammate: [snorts] He‘s probably being preached at by that church girl.

Eliza: Oh, yeah. I saw her follow him out. Bella? Brianna?

Nancy: Becca?

Geoffrey: Whoa! Um, w-what are you doing?

Becca: Do you struggle with resisting temptation?

Geoffrey: Resisting- Huh??

Becca: I ask because, no matter what I do, I still want to look extra pretty just for you. I bought this dress with you in mind. Do you like it?

Becca: Do you like the way it hugs my body?

Geoffrey: Um...you know I’m with Nancy, right? She’s my girlfriend.

Becca: What do you see in her anyway? She’s so cold and detached from you. I never see her smile when she’s with you. She never looks at you the way I do. I noticed the way you smile when you look at me though. I think we’d be so good together.

Geoffrey: Ok, stop! Becca, I don’t feel the same way!

Becca: [frowns] You don’t? But you’re so nice to me. Don’t you like me?

Geoffrey: You’re a really nice girl, Becca. I know you’ll make some guy so happy one day, but I can’t be that guy for you. I love Nancy. She’s complex but that’s what I love about her. I always will.

Geoffrey: Wait- don’t cry! Please don’t cry. Look, let’s forget this ever happened and just grab the ice and- Nancy?

Nancy Narrates: [I don’t know what came over me]

Nancy: Touch him again, I will fucking kill you.

[court-jobi]

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

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

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty. 

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.  

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

 “What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze. 

Realizing what day it is in your planner.  It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well. 

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.” 

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.” 

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace. 

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure. 

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights. 

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook, 

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better. 

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same. 

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.” 

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man. 

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~” 

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study. 

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned.  You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change. 

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours. 

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea. 

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully. 

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him. 

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before. 

[simplesoup]

Sweet but psycho

Bakugou x F!Reader

Who the hell willingly dates a man known for being a stuck up asshole?

know for throwing insults and yelling?

You….

Katsuki and you were a couple… a couple so many people questioned why were you a angel in the eyes of all the teachers and your friends dating Bakugou?

The better question is HOW? you were a student in UA too but you weren’t in class 1A hell you weren’t even in class 1B! You were in class 1H yep! The hero support class!

You had met Bakugou when he had walked in demanding to have better gauntlets made he was being a asshole to your class mate so you stepped in starting with your normal sweet and calm demeanor however this guy was a damn asshole. You quickly lost your patience’s slamming your hands down on the table “You don’t know what you even talking about extra” you mocked him “IM THE BEST YOU GONNA GET YOU WANT UPGRADES GROW A PAIR AND ASK NICELY OR FUCK OFF ASSHOLE!” you pointed to the door you weren’t gonna let this 1A asshole push you around

After a moment of silence and the blonde being absolutely lost for words he put the gauntlet down infront of you and started talking to you like a normal person pointing out flaws and what he wanted fixed and upgraded

you returned back to your calm demeanor writing down notes looking at the equipment it was interesting and it really did go well with his quirk. You took him up on his ask though you could have been an asshole and told him to fuck off.

after that day you started seeing the blonde more often he seemed to bump into you on purpose you thought it would end after you were done with his gauntlets? WRONG! he started just coming to see you for the smallest things and you started catching on

“Oi 1A extra quite staring at me use your words” you giggled looking at him “I have master your ways” you winked

“Nahh gonna have to date me to figure me out fully…. I’ll pick you up at 8 dress up we’re getting spicy soba”

you were not expecting that but couldn’t hold back the smile that creeped on your face “I’d rather just skip to the bed~” you grinned watching his face but he walked closer and got up in your personal space “That is cheaper then taking you out if that’s what you want then I suppose that can be arranged”

you giggled and blushed looking away from him a bit flustered

“I’ll bring extra clothes then”

“Good idea”

after that night you two were officially a couple! Guess the sex really was that damn good

the mystery’s of you two getting together spread throughout the school the rumors were hilarious to you. But it all became very obvious when that clown from 1A tried flirting with you before bakugou had even had a chance to react you had that rotten grape right where he belonged the damn trash can with a nice purple eye “Die! Pervert!” You joined bakugou sitting right next to him pursing you lips for a kiss

“That’s my Damn firecracker!” He kissed you

“So manly!”

“GET A ROOM Bakubro!”

((yay or nay?))

[zxoaii]

Tease

fem! reader x Kento Nanami

Summary: Nanami gets even after a tease.

SMUT

WC: 1.7k

Find this and more on my wattpad!

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

The crash of glass shattering on the floor startles me awake. My hands instinctively reach for the drawer next to the bed. As I fumble fearfully in the dark, a curse comes from the kitchen.

"Nanami?"

I get out of bed and make my way to the doorway. Nanami stands in the kitchen with his back to me. "I just broke something. Don't come over here barefoot."

I turn the kitchen light on for him. "I didn't want to wake you." He awkwardly moves to avoid looking at me. "You didn't want to wake me because you didn't want me to know you left the house or because you wanted to let me sleep?"

It's not a well-kept secret he's been sneaking out. Only it doesn't bother me as much as it should because I know he's working as a jujutsu sorcerer on the side.

"I thought you said you were done with all of that."

Nanami sighs and finally turns to face me. "Oh my god." My hands instinctively cup over my mouth. He's covered in blood.

"Not all of it's mine... And really it's just a superficial wound. It's just bleeding a lot."

He sweeps the glass up and dumps it into the trash. "It's not a big deal." I trail behind him as he makes his way to the bathroom.

I would ask but he wouldn't tell me. "Stop it. Sit down." Nanami stops digging through the cabinets and sits on the edge of the tub.

The first aid kit isn't even in the cabinets. It's in the closet. I grab it from the shelf and check the contents. Really, how am I supposed to treat him with this?

I set it down on the counter and wet a washcloth. Nanami can't hide the guilty look on his face. It would probably feel good to chew him out for this incredibly stupid thing he's doing.

When he went back to being a jujutsu sorcerer I thought he'd take it easy. After you almost die and decide to retire you usually learn a lesson. I guess he didn't.

The cloth cleans the blood off of his face. Did he really think he could hide this from me? I tilt his head to wipe blood out of his hair.

"It wasn't supposed to be this bad."

"You don't need to explain yourself."

It's hard not to be incredibly pissed at him. And at the same time, it's hard to not find him incredibly sexy sitting here while I fix him up.

I drop the cloth into the sink and open the first aid kit. He'd probably be better off with stitches. Instead, I grab rubbing alcohol, antibiotic cream, and some bandaids.

I search around the bathroom for our cotton pads to clean the wound with. "You're killing me in that dress." He should be used to a slip and some underwear by now.

I grab the box of cotton pads and bring them back over to him. "It might be easier if you sit on my lap." He isn't actually making moves right now, is he?

"Stop it."

I drench the pad in the alcohol and tilt his chin up. "I'm serious." His hand reaches up to grip my hip as I start cleaning the cut. He's pushing it.

"Hold still." I pass over the cut several times until it looks mostly clean. The bathroom light isn't great for looking at these things. "Sorry, you were just the closest thing to me." Nanami's hand falls off my hip.

I take the cream and apply it over the entire cut. There's more than he needs but hopefully, it will negate anything I missed while cleaning it out.

"Sweetheart, come on." Nanami runs his hands down my waist and hips while I find the largest bandaid we have. "Don't do this to me. Just give me something." The rip of the package replaces the response he wanted from me.

I place the bandaid on his forehead. My hands cup his face, caressing his cheeks gently. It's too hard to not give him anything.

He holds my ass as I lean in to kiss him. My hands slide back into his hair. There's no rush to the way he kisses me. Nanami's mouth is dangerously addictive.

It's almost painful to pull away from him just as he starts to take it further.

"What?" He looks up at me from his seated position. This punishment is equally bad for me. "You're not getting anything tonight." His hands fall to the edge of the tub as I walk back to the bedroom.

"And you should shower too," I add as I shut the bathroom door. If I caught a glimpse of him showering after I told him we wouldn't be having sex, it might actually kill me.

The bed welcomes me back. I can hear Nanami mumbling curses in the bathroom. It just has to be this way.

.  .  .

"I'm back!" The door shuts behind me with a click. I carry the groceries to the counter by myself. Usually, Nanami takes a couple of bags for me when I get home.

He walks out of the bedroom with his tie in hand. "Where are you going?" I ask as I start grabbing things from the bags. "Nowhere."

"Really?" I put my things down as he approaches me. "It's for you." My brows furrow as he holds it out. "What?"

"Put your hands out."

What's his point? I hold my hands out for him, palms up. Nanami closes my fingers into fists and then starts tying the tie around my wrists.

"Kento-"

He presses a kiss onto my forehead and then guides me back to our bedroom. Is this happening? "Do you enjoy teasing me?"

The pieces click in my head. He's still mad about the other night. Oh... I'm so in for it.

"Do you?" His fingers work away at my shorts while he speaks. "I couldn't reward bad behavior." Nanami pulls my underwear off with my shorts.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth."

He holds two fingers up to my lips. I open my mouth and he places them inside. "Good. Now suck them. You're going to want them to be wet." I suck his fingers shamelessly until he removes them from my mouth.

"I'm going to ask you again. Do you enjoy teasing me?" It's hard to focus with the sexual tension in this room. "Yes." The word falls from my lips once, twice, and then a pathetic third time.

Nanami wipes some spit off my chin with his thumb. He nods. My breaths come rapidly. I can't take this. My legs spread further across the bed.

I choke out a moan as he presses his fingers into me. My hands pull at the restraint. "Look at me." My head is turned to the side, my eyes are squeezed shut. "Look at me." Nanami coos tauntingly.

I force myself to look up at him. His fingers pump in and out of me at a steady pace. Still, it's not nearly enough. "You're so desperate aren't you?" There's no point in not giving him what he wants.

I want it too.

"Oh god, yes."

Nanami pulls his fingers out of me. A frustrated sigh is all I can respond with. My body reacts to every minor touch. His fingers grab the collar of my shirt.

"Don't-"

His arms flex as he tears it down the middle. His lips meet my neck and then my collarbone. All I can do is lay there and moan desperately. I need more.

"Nanami..."

His name comes out as a breathy sigh. It hurts to not be able to grab at his hair his shirt or his pants. I squirm as he kisses down my chest to my stomach.

How is he not going insane right now with me?

My lust starts to turn to desperation. I can't handle any more of this. "Just fuck me." Nanami raises his brows at me. "Sorry?"

Hot blush rushes across my cheeks. "Please just fuck me." The hunger in his eyes grows wilder at my begging. "Well..." He unbuckles his belt and drops it onto the floor.

I can't see as well as I want to but the sounds of him undoing his pants drive me just as wild. He leans over me on the bed. "And your shirt."

"My shirt?" I reach up and grab at his shirt. Nanami stands up, pulling away from my grasp. He takes his time unbuttoning his shirt.

I take in what I can. I hate the way being a jujutsu sorcerer almost kills him. But I have to give it credit for keeping him so fucking fit.

His muscles tense and flex as he leans over me again. "Say it one more time." Our eyes lock in a lustful trance.

"Please fuck me."

Nanami gives a small nod and grabs my hip with one hand. The way he does that drives me crazy. He doesn't waste time starting slow.

My moans echo through the room as Nanami thrusts into me relentlessly. His free hand grips my thigh. It will bruise tomorrow and he'll kiss me there. That thought drags another moan out of me.

"Don't stop." With nothing else to do my nails dig into my palms. Nanami's gruff moans start to mix in with mine.

One of my legs wraps around his hip, allowing him to hit a different angle. He adjusts too. Nanami slows his pace slightly and thrusts deeper.

I watch as his head falls back. His moans and curses turn me on in ways no one before him ever has. He drops my thigh and grabs my hand, pinning them above my head.

Nanami leans in closer while he holds my hands. His lips tease mine for a moment before finally kissing me. I drink up his taste like it's the only thing keeping me alive.

My stomach begins to tighten with overwhelming pleasure. Nanami continues to his me as I moan louder. My wrists are pressed harder into the mattress.

"That's it." He presses desperate kisses along my neck as I give in to my orgasm. "Good girl." Nanami drops my hands and sits back up.

"Good girl, just one more minute."

My head digs back into the mattress as my back arches up. His moans become more and more strangled with each minute that passes. I watch as he presses a hand against his forehead.

"Fuck, Y/n... Goddamnit." His hand falls onto my stomach as he finishes. The room falls silent except for our ragged breathing.

After a moment Nanami brushes his hair out of his face. He licks his lips and looks down at me.

"I enjoy teasing you too."

[bridgyrose]

Weiss assumes everyone has ridden a horse/pony before... only to find that the only person who doesn't fall off in the first five minutes is Jaune.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun,” Weiss said as she walked her friends over to the corral with a smile on her face. “This is going to be a nice and relaxing day to take our minds off finals.” 

“And how, exactly, is horseback riding relaxing?” Yang asked. 

Weiss stopped at the gate and looked back at her friends. “Why wouldnt it be relaxing?” 

“Because its an animal that can potentially break our necks?” Jaune asked more than he said. “I dont know if this is a good idea.” 

“You have nothing to worry about.” Weiss opened the gate and took the reins of one of the horses. “Its easy enough to ride them and these horses have been trained to let people on them. Plus, there’s ranch hands at the ready in case anything spooks the horses. Everything about this today is going to be safe.” 

Nora walked over to one of the horses. “If Weiss says its easy, how hard could it be?” 

Weiss nodded and watched as Nora got up onto the horse… and then slipped off when she couldnt get her footing in the stirrups. With a heavy sigh, she walked over and helped Nora get steady before taking a few steps to let Nora try to get the horse moving. Then, she watched as the others tried their hands. Blake seemed to get up the easiest, but couldnt seem to stay steady once the horse started moving. Ren and Pyrrha struggled with getting up onto it, Pyrrha worried about hurting it and Ren unable to keep his balance. Even Ruby and Yang, the two she would’ve expected to ride a horse easily, struggled to get onto their horses correctly or even to stay on while the horses were moving. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought…” 

“Not our faults that we’ve never ridden a horse before,” Ruby said as she held her horse by the neck to keep stable. “Some of us have only watched it in shows or movies.” 

“It shouldnt be *that* hard to ride a horse.” 

“Its not, but sometimes it takes a bit for people to really learn how to do it,” Jaune said. 

Weiss looked over at him, expecting for him to be falling off, only to be surprised to see that he seemed to be the only one of her friends that was capable of riding a horse. Even as he brought the horse to a quick trot, he seemed to hold on fine and almost professionally as he kept himself up right and gentle with the horse. “Where… where did you learn to ride like that?” 

Jaune brought the horse to a stop next to Pyrrha and got off to help her up. “My parents had a friend who owned horses and would ask us to help take care of them. Riding lessons were put up as payment, so my sisters and I all learned how to ride a horse.” 

“I guess that makes sense.” Weiss watched her team continue to struggle with their own horses and started to make her way towards them. “You want to help your team while I help mine?” 

Jaune nodded. “Sure thing.” 

Weiss paused for a moment as she watched Jaune make his horse trot over to Nora. It was almost too easy to envision him as a knight from the romance novels she read, a blush crossing her cheeks when she thought about it. If he were to bulk up and get a set of armor that fit him-

“W-Weiss!” Ruby called out from hanging under her horse. “A-a little help?” 

Weiss shook her head as she was pulled out of her own thoughts and started to make her way over. “How did you do that?” 

“I tried to get on and I dont think I set the saddle on quite right.” 

“Its not that hard. Just drop to the ground and we’ll set it right.” 

“I dont think I-” Ruby winced as she dropped on the ground. “Nevermind!” 

Weiss pinched the bridge of her and took a deep breath. “This will be a relaxing day… as soon as I teach them how to stay on their horses correctly.”

[kurishiri]

alfons v.s. ring . . . ring schwartz epilogue 💍

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: suggestive undertones.

Kate: If it’s come to this... then let’s do it! I mean, pretending to do naughty things!

Ring: Y-yeah, I do know that’s our only choice here, but... there’s no way I could do it.

R: Um, those kinds of things... I’ve never actually done them before!

R: But... s-since you’re really cute... I’m sure you have plenty of experience and whatnot...!

Kate: W-what do you mean, ‘plenty,’ there’s no way I have that much experience! Anyway, forget about that, we need to do something about this...

K: Ring, you go shake and push on the bed to make it creak!

K: And I’ll listen in on the other room and make sounds to match!

Ring: ...That seems more doable.

Ring went atop the bed and started to jump on it.

The bed did start creaking, to be sure, but it also was making some jarring noises that made me think the bed was really about to break down.

Kate: Could you be a bit more gentle though, Ring? It’s too much...!

Ring: Oh, umm, then... how about this!?

He briskly stepped off the bed before he put both hands on the bed and started to push down.

By doing so, he could create a good creaking sound that didn’t go too far.

Woman’s voice: The bed from the room next door has started creaking.

Man’s voice: In that case, they’re probably just a pair of lovebirds. Guess we were worrying ourselves over nothing.

Woman’s voice: ...That said, don’t you think it’s strange that there’s not a peep from the other side?

(Oh, that’s right! I have to make noise too.)

Kate: Ah, ahh... ahhn...

Ring: H-hey, um. I can’t say I’ve heard others doing you-know-what before, so I may be wrong, but...

R: When women do, you know, the deed, do they really sound this monotone...?

Kate: I mean, we’re not actually doing it, so that makes it harder...

Woman’s voice: The panting from the room next door sounds a bit strange, wouldn’t you say?

Man’s voice: It sounds real flat...

(First Ring, and now the two in the next room over are doubting me too...! At times like these, then...!)

Kate: I-I’m really, really sorry! I’ve been told by a lot of partners that my panting sounds suuuper flat!

At this point, I decided to play into the role of ‘a woman whose pants sound flat’ as I raised my voice.

Ring: N-no matter how you are, I won’t mind at aaalll!

While continuing to push down on the bed, Ring returned a fitting line in response.

...Very monotonously, may I add, for the both of us.

Woman’s voice: ...Huh, I guess they really are just one odd couple.

Man’s voice: I mean, seeing as they’re using a room of a strange manor like this, that would be a given, probably.

Kate: Oh, thank goodness, it seems they’ve bought the act...! Let’s keep this up then!

Ring: Alright... but, sorry, I’m a bit hot, so I’ll take my jacket off.

Seeing as the bed is hard, having to push down hard enough to make sounds continuously must have taken a considerable amount of stamina.

With that, Ring casually took off his top layer and put it aside.

(...)

Maybe because of the way his clothes fit his body so well, his well-trained muscles were brought to the surface.

The sweat that came from shaking the bed moved traced the back of his neck, making him quite sexy.

Ring: ...Kate? Is there something wrong?

Kate: N-no, not at all! It’s nothing——

Taken aback at having become more conscious of Ring, my legs buckled suddenly,

and, preparing for the impact, I closed my eyes then and there.

Kate: ...!

(Hm? Wait, it doesn’t hurt...?)

Ring: Are you okay?

When I slowly opened my eyes, there Ring was, nearby, as he asked with a touch of worry in his voice.

(So Ring is the one who saved me and stopped the fall...)

Our bodies were touching, and I could feel his body was a bit warmer than mine, and he gave off a pleasant, earthy scent.

(Even though he’s holding me in his arms, he seems completely unperturbed... his appearance hardly betrays the fact he must be training regularly.)

(...Wait, what in the world are you looking at, Kate!?)

Kate: T-thank you for saving me. I’ll let go now.

Ring: ...Wait.

Kate: Huh...

When his earnest voice stopped me stiff, Ring’s hand gently slid to my cheek.

(W-what the...!?)

Ring: Your face is all red. Did you hit it somewhere?

(Oh... so he was worried for me.)

Kate: N-no, I didn’t. I’m fine.

Ring: But...

Kate: It’s just... we’re so close together that I’m a bit nervous... is all...

Ring showed no sign of pulling away himself, so I opted to give him an honest answer then. And when I did, Ring also turned red, as though it had moved over from me to him.

Ring: I-I see... then, umm, I’m glad if you’re okay.

R: Sorry for keeping you like that. ...And should we continue then? What we were doing before, I mean.

After that, we continued our act of panting and shaking the bed until we exited the room.

Ring looked exhausted as we exited the room, and there was Alfons, waiting out in the hallway.

Alfons: Thank you for your hard work. Now then, were you able to listen in for what we needed?

Kate: Yes, all of it and everything...

Alfons: My word, is that a hoarse voice I hear? And not only that...

A: I see Ring has stripped his outer layer off and is positively sweaty as well.

A: Would it be safe to assume... you two have gone aaall the way, by any chance?

Ring & Kate: “No!” “Absolutely not!”

Fin.

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

← prev fin

END NOTES: this story was so silly and makes me smile whenever i read it, haha. ring seems to be the most popular of the vogel trio, seeing he has gotten a dark mafia design, and it’s not hard to see why. his charm is in his innocence, and it’s like a breath of fresh air in this game, and i hope i could capture it too.

i’m overall curious about all the vogel members and feel this story event is a strong debut for all three. thank you for reading, and hope you enjoyed! i’d love to hear your thoughts as well ♡

full masterlist 🪞💍

[daengtokki]

I’d love to read about Seungmin taking care of you while you’re sick. I know he’d be so sweet and loving 🥰

Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

rating: fluff

Day 3 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

A crash echoing in from the kitchen wakes you from your doze, and you groan so loudly you’re afraid he hears it. What could he have possibly dropped? All he was doing was grabbing the painkillers. He’s trying his best. He doesn’t even have to be here right now.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get the drawer open, something was stuck inside…uh, here ya go.” His clenched fist hovers over you, and he drops two capsules in your palm. “Are they the right ones?”

And the migraine is just making you more sensitive. Having him with you while you’re feeling under the weather is brand new. "Yeah, thank you."

“Oh, you need a drink”

“No, I have my water”

He stops and turns back to you, a shy smile stuck on his face. This isn’t the first time, or the second time he’s been here, but it’s never for very long, and never overnight. And he doesn’t have to take time away from his own busy schedule for you, ever—you’ve told him that countless times. But now it’s late and Seungmin is still at your apartment, comfortable in his shorts and sweatshirt and his warm socks. You don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to him than you are right now.

“I’ll be right back”

He spins and heads back to the kitchen, and you listen carefully to try to figure out what he’s doing. The faucet, the cabinet doors opening and closing, and the clink of cups, or mugs…he must be making tea. Eventually, the scent drifts into the bedroom—spicy and sweet. Seungmin returns with a mug in each hand, and he’s taking his time, being as careful as possible as he sets them on the bedside table.

“I’m not sure if it really works, but I saw it when I stopped at the store on the way here. If it just tastes good, I guess that’s okay, too.”

The pounding in your head becomes unbearable, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “What is it?” You whisper, trying not to sound too irritable.

“How bad is the pain…one to ten?” Seungmin carefully sits on the edge of the bed, your mug of tea in his cupped hands.

It does smell nice. “Uh…a seven, maybe.”

“It’s supposed to help with headaches”

“Oh, you’re so sweet. Come over here”

“Yeah?” You nod again, and he nods back. “Okay.”

This is also brand new, sharing a bed. It’s a shame the first time has to be under these circumstances, but you’ll take him any way you can get him. The original plan was to have dinner, but after a few subtle hints, you managed to turn it into a late dinner and a sleepover. The migraine ruined it, but Seungmin still insisted on coming over, even if all you did was stay in bed and put up with him.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it. It’s very gingery.”

“It smells good.” You take a sip, and it’s not too hot, so you take a bigger one. “Thank you.”

Seungmin keeps a careful distance on top of the blankets—too much distance, but he’s going to treat you like this migraine could break you at any moment. You have to look at him through squinted eyes, try to smile and let him know you’ll be okay if he gets closer. You’ll be okay if he touches you.

“The lights...I forgot to turn the lights down.” He’s up and headed for the kitchen again. The light clicks off. Back in the bedroom, he flicks the light switch on the wall, so now the only glow is from the hallway light spilling in through the cracked door. “That’s better.”

“Much better. Six.”

Back on the bed, same distance. He nervously rubs his thighs, and his knees.

“You look cute in your pjs. Is this what you usually wear to bed?”

The pink on his cheeks rises slowly, and ends at the tips of his ears. You don’t think it was that odd of a question, but Seungmin is clearly a little flustered. Hopefully it wasn’t too much.

“I’m sorry, too personal?” You laugh. It’s not—you know he isn’t that sensitive, but he ended up being much more shy than you expected.

Idol Seungmin is a different person. Seungmin with his fellow members is also a different person. Your version of him, at least so far, is quiet, a little unsure, and not always confident in his actions.

“No, it’s not,” he smiles. “I don’t wear this much to bed, usually, but that didn’t seem appropriate tonight.”

“Well, if you get warm…”

“I’ll take off my socks.” He wiggles his toes and moves himself closer.

It hurts your head, but you let yourself laugh. Seungmin is funny, and he knows it. You’ll indulge him every time. “Is that a promise?”

This is different. It’s not the same as your closeness on the couch, or in the back of the car—this is your bed, and it doesn’t get more cozy and intimate than this. When you let your pounding head rest on his shoulder, his cheek lands on you. Something finally gives, and he seems to relax. You’re not sure what you did, but he shifts again, and you feel his soft lips press against your forehead. “Four.”

“If I could kiss away the pain, I would,” he says under his breath.

“Can you try?”

Whether he’s ready or not, you wrap your arms around him and bring him closer. But he does the same. Seungmin squeezes, but not too tightly, and places another kiss on your forehead, on your temple, and down your cheek. Wherever he can reach.

“I think it’s working”

Seungmin keeps going, “it’s a good thing I came over,” and finally makes it to your lips. He kisses very cautiously, and not nearly long enough when he pulls away to look at you.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just checking”

“I’m good…three and a half.” The strong fingers kneading into the back of your neck is the same move from his last visit. “That feels nice.” Hopefully, his next move is also the same as before.

“Does it? It’s not too much?”

You shake your head and close your eyes, and his lips press against yours again. This time he stays. His tongue slides across your mouth to gain access, and you let him in.

“Three," you somehow manage to get it out between his kisses, “two…”

[froggiewrites]

Unknown / Nth

Pairing: Shanks x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You don't know if Shanks will still be here tomorrow morning. You don't know if you should be doing this at all. But you can't help but indulge yourself tonight, if only to create another memory you'll yearn for later. Warnings: Smut, Angst (With A Happy Ending), Exes to Lovers/Second Chances, A LOT of Yearning Word Count: 4.4k

You thought you were dreaming, the first moment you saw him in the bar, head thrown back with laughter, a little sake running down his chin and catching the light. You were still convinced as you approached, vision blurred with unshed tears. It was only once he turned around, smile wide and ready, obviously aware of you from the moment you stepped in the room, and said your name that you knew that this was truly and definitively real.

You don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing, but your heart sings anyway.

“Long time no see!” His grin doesn’t waver a moment, but you can still see the slight tension in his shoulders, the unease lurking in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to say to you, not after all this time. You used to know him like the back of your hand, but the man in front of you is practically a stranger. You imagine he feels much the same about you.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You can’t smile as brightly as he does, no matter how excited part of you is to see him again. You’re weighed down by years of grief, of longing, and you’ve never been a good liar. “A lot’s changed.” You glance down at where his arm used to be, the hand that had once held you so tenderly.

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess it has. But not too much.” You don’t know what he’s implying with that, but there’s a weight to the words, a sort of finality to them. “You should sit down. We have a lot to catch up on.”

“I shouldn’t,” she says, already in the chair he gestured to.

He laughs. It’s such a beautiful, familiar sound, something unchanged by the years between the man she used to know and the man who is. “I’ve always been great at convincing you to do the things you shouldn’t, haven’t I?”

You don’t know whether he realizes the gravity of what he’s said. Sometimes everything about him seems so free, so spontaneous, and others it seems like he knows everything that has, can, and will happen, and his hands are the ones making the cogs of the world turn.

But he really had always been so wonderful at convincing you. You had been reluctant to take the next step to lovers. You had told him such, several times, but he had always soothed away your worries with a bubbling laugh that always put you at ease.

I'm afraid of losing you, you had told him.

And he, to his credit, didn't tell you you never could. A calculated risk, he had called it. And I have a good feeling about this one.

You had never been an excellent gambler.

How horrible, to go from friends to lovers to nothing. You didn’t know how to be someone without him. Waking up to an empty bed was one thing, but ordering one drink instead of two, hearing a joke you know he’d love and being unable to share it with him, collecting trinkets just for them to collect dust when you realize you have no one to give them to, it weighs on you. In weaker moments, you can still feel his hands on you, hear his laughter in the wind, see the sparkle of his eyes behind you in the mirror. Haunted by the ghost of all you had and lost.

You never know which to call it: the day you lost him or the day he lost you. It doesn't matter, really, since his warmth left your side all the same, but you can't help but stick on the point anyway. Who took the bigger blow? You had loved him so deeply he had etched himself into your bones down to the marrow, but you would never accuse him of loving you with anything less than his all. Maybe you both lost in the end, a mutually assured destruction that had ended with nothing left of you but scraps.

But you’ve grieved for years, years that are long behind you. In front of you is the man you loved, grinning wildly, leaning in very purposefully to give you a look at his chest and abs under his shirt. He always knew his happy trail drove you wild, and now he does everything he can to ensure you see it. You can’t help but laugh at him. “You aren’t subtle, Shanks.”

“No one’s ever accused me of subtlety. That’s not usually what I’m going for.” His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and you notice lines that weren’t there when you saw him last. You wonder if the joy you brought him helped forge them, or if maybe it was all that came after that made its mark. Is there anything left of you with him?

You move to order a drink for yourself, but before you can speak to the bartender it’s already sat in front of you. Shanks ordered for you before you even approached. “Wow, you sure were confident.”

“Of course I was! How could you ever walk in here and not come and see me?” A slight twitch of his lip, a weakness in his smile, betrays insecurity. He absolutely thought you might have left without a word.

“Maybe I would have gotten nervous and ran. I’ve done that enough in my life.”

“Not to me. You always came to me.” His eyes are soft, filled with an affection that makes you ache.

“Maybe I changed. Maybe I got worse.”

“Not possible. Not you. No matter what the world threw at you, you would never let it break you down.”

“I think you think too much of me.”

“I think maybe I just know you better than you know yourself.” His smile isn’t smug, which is almost worse. He’s being devastatingly genuine, far more than you expected when you sat down. “You never had enough faith in yourself. Has that changed at all?”

You want to lie. God, you want to lie. But staring into his eyes you know you can’t. “No, it hasn’t. It might have gotten worse.”

He sighs softly, and he’s close enough that you can feel the rush of air on your face. “I had a feeling.” He pauses for a moment, before leaning back and taking a swig from his drink. “But tonight isn’t the time to unpack that. We’re two old friends having a drink. We should celebrate!”

It stings more than you expected. “Old friends, huh? That’s what this is?”

“It certainly sounds nicer than calling you the one who got away.”

“I got away?”

“And I never should have let you.” Another sip of his drink. “But really, we should talk about something happier, don’t you think? How’s life been?”

You want to press the issue, but his eyes are slightly pleading, and you think maybe you have more sway over him than you ever expected, an ability to press onto his weak spots hard enough to hurt. You used to think he was unshakable, invincible, but now you wonder if perhaps long ago he had gifted you a knife that could perfectly slip between his ribs if you so chose, if you ever developed the penchant for cruelty.

So you don’t press. You tell him about your life, how things have been since he left. He listens with rapt attention, holding onto your every word. He doesn’t share much about his own life, but you’re too caught up in the intoxication of his attention to care. It feels so wonderful to have those eyes on you again, if only for a while. It loosens your lips, makes you say things you never thought you’d be willing to admit.

"You know, there were times in my life I was convinced you were an angel. A gift from heaven, just for me."

"What convinced you otherwise?"

"I got to know you."

"Ouch!"

"No, no. It's not...you're just so...human. It's a compliment, I promise." It doesn't come out right, as you stumble over your words like you're sixteen again, every part of you slightly too big, too clumsy, too you. You don't know how to tell him that being him is the best thing a person could be. You could never love an angel the way you loved that man.

“I didn’t think you’d have many compliments left for me.”

You don’t know how to disagree with that. You certainly shouldn’t. But there’s a place in your heart carved out in his shape, and you’ve never been able to fill it with anything else. “I have almost nothing but, really.”

He smiles, wearier this time, tired down to the bone. “You’ve always been too good to me.”

You’ve always been too good for me, so what a pair we make. You don’t let the thought leave your lips, not today. But you suspect he might be able to see it in your face. He’s always been able to look you in the eyes and know exactly what you’re thinking. It’s one of his greatest strengths, and one of the things that tore you apart. You were never on equal footing, the wonderful liar and his woefully honest love. 

“So…anybody else you’ve got nothing but compliments for?”

“That was an awful segue.”

“I’m doing my best.”

You can’t help but laugh. “If you’re asking if I’m with someone, no, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“I thought we were supposed to keep this to happy topics?”

“So it’s a sad reason.”

“It’s a normal reason!” It’s not, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckles, moving closer once again. He’s been slowly pulling your stools closer together throughout the night, inching his way into your space. With this final push, he allows himself a moment with his arm around your shoulder, so close to familiar, but not quite. He used to hold you with his dominant arm, the one he lost. You wonder if it feels strange to him, too, to be so close to the past, inches away from what was, but unable to fully bridge that gap. His drink sits on the counter, unattended, abandoned in favor of your warmth. “No matter the reason, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I think you know.”

“I think I want to hear you say it.”

“Oh, well how could I ever deny a request from you?” He leans closer, brushing his lips against your ear. “I want you.”

You flush, and suddenly you aren’t a tired pirate, filled with regrets and lost in nostalgia. Instead you’re twenty, and the beautiful boy you’ve been in love with has finally looked at you with all of the longing you thought you were alone in. You’re giddy and terrified and yearning all at once, but you can handle it, because he’s right there to catch you, just like he’s always been. You remember very well what it’s like to love him. You don’t know if you ever stopped. You would tell him, had he not flustered you so thoroughly you can hardly bring yourself to speak.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d still have that effect on you.” He’s grinning, the smugness offset by his obvious boyish glee.

“How could I ever resist?” It comes out barely a whisper, eeks out of your lips before you can stop it.

“Can I do what I do best?”

“What’s that?”

His eyes glance longingly down at your lips as he mutters, “Convince you to do something you shouldn’t.”

Tomorrow, you expect to wake up to cold sheets and an empty bed. Tomorrow you will be left with nothing but a longing for what you could have had, had things been different. Tomorrow you will scream and cry and curse yourself for daring to give yourself a taste of it, knowing this time would be the last. But it is not tomorrow yet, and he looks beautiful in the light, a decade younger and kinder, just like you remember him.

You let him kiss you.

And god, how cruel he was, for kissing you like it mattered. Like he always used to, dragging it out, lips following you even as you pulled away. He always kissed you like it would be your last.

His hand grips your hip tightly, as though he’s terrified you’ll turn to smoke beneath his fingertips, as though the moment he lets you you will slip through his fingers. Your chests press together, your hearts beating loudly, calling to each other through the small amount of space that separates them. A greeting to an old friend.

Your walk to your inn room is frenzied, his hand never leaving you, your lips hardly parting for a moment. You would thank the cover of darkness for maintaining your dignity if you were capable of worrying about anything other than the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers when you slide them beneath his shirt. You hear nothing except for his frantic breath in the small moments you part, the soft sighs that leave him when his hands find another part of your body to refamiliarize himself with.

You barely feel your back hit the bed. It is only when he finally pulls back a moment that you catch your breath and realize where you are. You could still back out. Still allow yourself to go back to the numbness, the grief surrounding you like a blanket, keeping you not comfortable but certainly safe.

Your fingers find the bottom of your shirt, throwing it to the side carelessly. Your fingers struggle with the clasp of your bra for a moment, frantic to get it off, to feel his fingers and mouth on your chest again after years of dreaming of them. You look up to see him shirtless, having fought a panicked battle with fabric of his own. He’s staring at you, mouth agape, his look something resembling wonder. He’s not simply admiring you, or doing something as disconnecting, glorifying, as worship. He’s simply adoring you, taking in the sight of you and tucking it away in his heart, treating you as something to be remembered. Something he will carry with him for the rest of his life if he has the choice.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember you.” His voice is hardly a whisper, the words feeling almost like a confession of something more.

“So are you,” you murmur, moving slowly to run your fingers across his abdomen. He’s still built sturdily, and you can feel his muscles tense slightly underneath your fingers.

“I’ve dreamed of this. So, so many times.” He comes closer, his next words nearly directly against your lips. “I might have seen you more in my dreams than I ever did in reality. You’ve haunted me.” With that he kisses you again, tenderly, like an apology. There isn’t a heat or urgency like there was before, only affection and longing. You can feel in every movement of his mouth and tongue how he has wanted you, waited for you.

He slides onto the bed, pulling you onto his lap, pressing your bare chests together with his arm wrapped around your waist. His mouth moves to your neck, nipping gently, trying to find a spot he could once find in an instant. It takes him only a moment before he finds your sweet spot, making you moan softly. When you do, he lets out a soft groan. “God, I’ve missed that sound.”

You grind down slightly on his lap, making him let out a soft surprised noise of his own. You can’t help the giggle that comes out of you, girlish and joyous. “And I’ve missed that sound.” You grind down again, electricity shooting up your spine. “And that feeling.”

“Oh yeah? Haven’t felt that a lot since…” He trails off.

“They haven’t been you.” The weight of the words don’t hit you until they’re already out, but they don’t shatter the fragile bubble you two have found yourself in. All they do is make him give you a lovesick grin that threatens to rip your heart from your chest.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Another nip at your neck, and a callused hand sliding up your torso to your chest. “I’d give anything for it to have been me.”

“It’s you now.” It’s always been you.

“So it is. I’ll make sure you never forget tonight.” His mouth moves lower, his tongue and teeth lightly grazing over your nipples, making you grab his shoulders to ground yourself as a shiver works its way up your spine. His mouth is on one breast, his hand on the other, and he takes his sweet time working you up. He’s determined to appreciate you with all of the time he’s been granted, ensure that you know how much he’s savoring this moment. It’s only once you’re panting, hips jerking lightly without permission, that he eases up his attacks and starts working his way to the main event.

He lifts you slightly, just enough to slide your pants and panties off in one go. “Show off,” you mutter, no fire behind it.

“Only for you.” What should be a cheeky grin is too softened by the mood, turning to something sickly sweet. He taps your thigh lightly, an indication to stay elevated, and starts to unbuckle his pants before your hands reach out to stop him.

“Let me.” You wish your voice weren’t so desperate, but you’ve been dreaming of this moment for years, and you want so badly to live it how you’ve always wanted to.

He chuckles. “Of course, dear.”

Your hands make quick work of his belt as it’s flung to the side, but you take your time slowly working off his pants. The tent in his boxers is huge, almost bigger than you remember, but you don’t take long to stare at it. You save that for when you finally slide off his underwear, exposing his cock to your hungry eyes. It’s exactly as you remember, long and veiny and twitching with want. You slowly reach a hand to it, wrapping your fist around it, then the other, pumping slowly and appreciating the weight in your hand. He lets out a soft groan, head falling forward, eyes falling closed, allowing for you to admire his body without fear of embarrassment.

You seize the moment you can, eyes scraping over every inch of him, updating him in your memory, adding every new wrinkle, scar, every part of him that’s new to you. You never thought he could grow more beautiful, more perfect, more him, but somehow he managed. There’s more hair on his chest now, more scars on his legs, more evidence of the hard life you knew he led as an emperor. You’re determined to memorize every inch, so now at least when you dream of him it will be him as he is instead of as he was.

He makes a strangled noise when you lean down to take him in your mouth, to see if his taste has changed as well. You’re pleased to know it hasn’t, as you slowly move up and down his shaft as your hands continue to work him. The weight of him in your mouth is almost comforting in its familiarity, something between you two that has remained wholly and truly unchanged. His moans grow deeper when one of your hands moves to his balls and his hips lurch forward slightly. You remove your mouth just to take one final long lick up his cock, one that once again causes him to shiver and groan.

He makes a quiet noise somewhere between disappointment and relief when you fully remove your hands and mouth from him and begin to straddle him again. “I really didn’t want to finish before the main event. I don’t have the stamina I used to.”

You laugh at him. “You liar. One, you’re not even forty, you shouldn’t act like an old man. Second, you’ve only gotten stronger since then. No way in hell have you lost any endurance.”

“Me, lie to you?” He places a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Never!”

“So you admit you’re weaker than you used to be? An unpracticed lover?”

“Well…maybe I was lying this one time.” He leans forward to kiss you again, a quick peck at the corner of your mouth. He reaches down to align himself with your entrance before he begins to thrust in slowly and carefully. His hand moves to your hip, resting there as you both quietly moan at the feeling of you stretching him out.

He leans your foreheads together when he finally bottoms out, both of you panting quietly and getting used to the feeling. It’s blissful, to finally be filled so perfectly after thinking about it for so very long. You fit together perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you mewl.

“Of course.” With that he easily grips your hip to help you ride him, rutting up into you as you come down. The sound of skin slapping makes you feel light headed, leaning your head forward to rest in Shanks’ neck. The room feels burning hot, but despite the heat radiating off of his skin, you need to feel every inch of him. You feel as though you’ll float away if you don’t ground yourself here, with him, perfectly intertwined in a way you could never be with anybody else.

“I’ve missed this,” he gasps out as he hits particularly deep, making you cry out. “You feel so wonderful, sweetheart. So perfect.”

You try to respond, but he hits your sweet spot again, so you can only let out a choked cry against his neck. He presses his nose into your hair, and you can feel him smile against you. “That’s right, just like that. Let me hear it.”

And so you do. You don’t hold back a single sound, crying out for him louder and louder until you’re sure the entire inn can hear. You can’t bring yourself to care. You can feel the heat rising, the pulsing spreading through you, and you don’t give a damn about anything other than the man beneath and inside of you.

“So close, almost there.” Another thrust, another cry, and you are teetering on the edge, ready to let yourself fall.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum with me.” You tighten around him as you feel your release fly through you and Shanks’ pulse inside of you. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, ensuring you take every last drop of him as deep inside as you can. When you come back to yourself, he’s running his fingers lightly through your hair, pressing loving kisses to the top of your head. “That was perfect.”

You can’t help your smile. You nuzzle against his neck, and his hand drops from your head to your back, pulling you closer. You both lay for what feels like hours, Shanks soft inside of you, as both of you refuse to move and shatter the moment.

Eventually, Shanks pulls out, cum slowly starting to leak out of you, as he gently shifts you both so he’s laying on his back with you on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, steady like a drum, pounding in his chest. You’d missed that sound.

You don’t remember falling asleep. You only remember waking up still feeling warm and safe, and the quiet confusion that comes with it. You were sure he would be back on his ship by now, halfway to a new island, a new adventure, and someone else to share his bed with. Someone with less baggage, or at least some that can be left by the door. Instead he’s here, in this bed, staring down at you with a tenderness that could bring you to tears if you let it.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He brushes your hair lightly from his face.

“Does that make you Prince Charming?”

He laughs. “God no. I’m the handsome and roguish pirate that’s here to steal his princess away.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“Hm?”

“Steal me away? Is that your plan?” You try to keep the hope out of your voice.

"We're leaving tomorrow. You could..." He trails off, an uncharacteristic hesitation. You never used to do this to him, make him lose his sure footing. You don't know how to feel about changing from home to unsteady ground, somewhere he has to tread carefully lest he fall right through. He doesn't finish his question, doesn't get brave enough to risk it. Instead he looks at you with wide, pleading eyes that beg for a return to something you can't even fully remember the feeling of.

I can't, you want to say.

"I don't know," your mouth betrays, vulnerability seeping through. He's always been good at that, striping someone down to their center, exposing the softness they desperately try to hide.

"I don't know either," he mutters. "But I'd... I'd like it if you did. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. Not if you don’t want to.” His hand is gentle as it caresses your cheek. You close your eyes and lean in, soaking up the feeling. You want to. You want to so badly you could scream. But there’s a terror inside of you, a part of you where the wound he left never closed. You don’t know if you can risk tearing the rest of it open again. You don’t know if you’ll survive it.

His voice goes soft again, saying the one word that brings down your defenses instantly. “Please. Please come with me. I can’t lose you again.”

You know he could still hurt you. Could still rip you open in an instant if you let him, expose your soft insides and destroy every part of you you managed to keep safe the first time. You know this intimately. But somehow it doesn’t sway you as much as his quiet desperation, his admittance that perhaps you could do the very same to him, and he would let you.

“You don’t have to.”

“You mean…”

“I’ll go with you.”

His smile rivals the sun. “You won’t regret it.”

You might. But you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[chrissv4mp]

WHY AREN'T YOU HOME?

NAVIGATION — SERIES MASTERLIST

● — The cool air of the night hit you just perfectly, the heat from the party you had just stepped away from almost completely gone now. You don't even know why you agreed to attend this party. It was just some stupid event for people with over 1M followers on Instagram. Your friends were the ones who convinced you, and you really wish they hadn't.

Your manager said it was good for you as well, and what else were you supposed to say? You weren't really the best at saying no to people, either. So, you had no choice other than to come.

As you sit down on the side of the sidewalk, you rest your chin on your palm, staring out into the empty backlot of the building, eyes darting all across the parking lot until all you can see is darkness. Your phone buzzes repeatedly in your other hand, signaling that a call was coming through, but you couldn't care less.

It was probably just more scam callers trying to sell you some fake product, but as you decline the call, you realize it's not the same number. Your phone buzzes again, "No Caller ID." Flashing at the top of your screen in bold letters. Who else would call you at 10 pm?

Your thumb presses down on the answer button, sliding it to the right and watching as the call duration begins to rise slowly. You move the phone up to your ear, lips parting to speak but not getting any words out before the person on the other line goes first, "Why aren't you home, Y/N?"

It almost feels like your heart stops once you hear those words. You take a deep breath, trying to find an excuse. Maybe it was a fan who just... possibly happened to guess your number? Fuck.

"You got the wrong number, sir." You mutter nervously, but as you hear a chuckle on the other line, it finally sinks in. How could you forget?

"Dont'cha think I'd remember your number after all these calls, sweetheart?" He says, his tone playful. You hated how he was always able to play with you, "Now, answer my question, Y/N. Why. Aren't. You. Home?"

You let out a shaky breath as you stand up, head turning to look at your surroundings as you move to the backdoor of the building, "How do you I'm not?"

The man just scoffs, and you flinch at the loud shatter of glass you hear from the other side of the phone. His tone is more stern this time, almost growling into your ear, "Because I'm at your fuckin' house. Don't play these games, Y/N, you know better.

"Stop calling me!" You retort, breath catching in your throat as you realize the door had locked behind you when you came outside, "Shit." You whisper.

"Block my number." He replies quickly, giggling as he hears your frustrated sigh, "Awh, wait—You can't. 'M'Just gonna change my number, maybe get a new phone...?" He trails off.

You can practically hear the stupid, cocky smile on his face even through the phone, and it makes you wanna throw the device onto the hard pavement beneath your feet, "Fuck off."

As you move the phone away from your ear and hover your thumb over the bright red button to end the call, you hear a loud, booming voice scream at you from the other line, "DON'T HANG UP, Y/N."

Shivers are sent down your spine at his authority, but you still disobey him. You swiftly end the call and then quickly run towards the alley that leads to the front. No thoughts run through your mind except him. Where was he? Your house wasn't that far. Was he here?

As you turn to round the corner towards the front, you feel a pair of hands grab at your waist and roughly pull you down onto their body. You both fall backward, his body acting as a pillow and lessening the impact of your fall.

Before you can scream, his slaps a hand over your mouth, his other hand on your waist in an attempt to get you to stop squirming, "Don't wanna hurt you, mamas, just—Fuck—Close those pretty lips for me."

You only continue to struggle against him, punching all over his body to try and get him to let you go. He doesn't, and it's only when you turn your head that you can see his face. His eyes are wild, and his lips are full, parted so as to let out heavy breaths.

"Hey, you."

@jetaimevous @livialifesblog @watercolorskyy @blahbel668 @her-favorite @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @fallingforfallthings @ncm9696 @hrtsdollie @snowysosturn @1800-love-me @ladyy-whistle-d0wn @ginswife @spideylovin @dej4vhs @strnlxlqve @joemamaaa42069 @fratbrochrisgf @slut4chriss @h3arts4harry @str4wberryk1sses @riasturns @nwlluvsturnsstars17 @asimp4chris @byneptunee @ilove2021chris @freshloveforthefit @sturniologals @ifwdominicfike @sturnsdoll @3lizaluvs @matt444nixi @nikki-starx @notmylaa11 @fionaheartswomen @sturni0l0 @sturniolofannnlmao @demzzz @n3-vaeh @melanch0lybby @viiiwwwee @johnniesverr @kaisturni @chrissfawn @obsessedwurex @flower-sturns @styrnioloss @oliviasturniolo21 @lucysturniolo

[temmtamm]

I need you to write SOMETHING about yan Ford locking up (gn) reader slskxlflwld please I need him,,,,,,,, ogh

It wasn’t an easy feat to do this, y’know??

Really, he’d expect more appreciation on your part. Don’t you see all that he is putting on the line just for you? But, no. He supposes it is to hasty for a wild animal to suddenly get used to being loved and having a home.

And trust, that IS what you are. A wild, stray dog. One he intends on domesticating.

After all, it would do you no good to live on your own in a town like Gravity Falls. Too many creatures who would tear you limb from limb if given the chance.

Really, it’s much more preferable that he found you than the others.

…

Now, suuure, he may have found you through unconventional ways—But, hey!! Every Romcom starts with miscommunication!!

…His just happened to be him tracking you down after seeing you at the Mystery Shack, finding your home, your family, your first pets name.

It was all in the name of research, however!! Research is what he does best!! He can pick apart and dissect any topic of interest with enough time.

You just so happened to be his latest topic of interest.

—

“You have to eat, y’know?” Ford knelt down next to your curled in form laying weak on the ground, malnourished, sick, with sweat clinging to your skin and hair that hasn’t been washed in days. No matter, he’s seen worse. He’s lived through worse. They don’t exactly have showers in every single dimension, so a couple months is nothing compared to his nearly 30 years without a shower.

You didn’t respond. That has been your new gimmick lately, he noticed. You’re newest stage of grief.

You’ve already went through anger, bargaining, denial—Now, he just had to deal with your depression before he could get to the sweet ivory bliss that was acceptance.

He’d be waiting with bated breath for when you accepted him and how good this truly was for you, when you’d lean into his touch rather than jerk away.

Maybe then you can finally see more of the house than the basement—So long as you don’t snitch to the others why you’re here.

First things first, however, he needed to make sure you were healthy.

“I said eat.” He huffed, thick bushy brows knitting together as his tone grew more stern. That’s how he usually got his way, he noticed. He had to intimidate you. That’s what he had to do to stop you from stabbing him with his pens, to stop you from using any broken shards of glass to cut yourself, and to stop your from telling him how much you hated him.

Strangely enough, however, it didn’t work this time. If he had to guess, this was your new way of getting back at him, of not giving him the satisfaction of taking care of you. You’d sooner die from starvation than eat anything he cooked.

Too bad he wasn’t letting you. “They always want it the hard way..” Ford sighed, shaking his head before one of his hands jutted out, grabbing at your jaw, already so sore and bruised from the other times when he was…less than kind when handling you. It’d stop if you stopped biting, y’know.

“Glk—“ A choked gag left your lips, your nose wrinkling as your eyes grew misty from the pain. You tried to stay strong, to fight against him, though, inevitably, your mouth parted to let out a cry of pain. “Stop—“

You barely had time before a metal spoon was forced down your gullet, burning hot chili following it. You weren’t allowed solids yet.

Your eyes watered further, feeling it burn at your tender flesh and gums, making you swish it around, desperate to alleviate some of the pain before giving up, swallowing to make the pain, and food go away.

You hated that defeat tasted so good, especially with how you had been neglecting yourself lately.

“There we go,” You hated how Ford cooed even more. “That’s much better, isn’t it?”

A pathetic groan left your lips, with your head ducking back in to hide in your curled up form as he reached out, a rough, calloused six-fingers palm petting and playing with your hair as you laid like a old, tired dog.

…The feeling was soft and sweet, contrasting how tired and sore your bones were.

“There we go…Good dog.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Height?” The officer taps the nib on his notepad. 

“Ugh, tall. Er,” you keep your hand on your head. It still throbs. “Um, six foot something? He had to be bigger.” 

“Right,” he squints. “Blond, blue eyes, and a scar. Dressed in all black...” he reads it over. “And he didn’t say anything?” 

“No, sir, I told you. Did you check with security? There's cameras--” 

“Nothing there. Checked all the footage. Some glitch. Guy’s not sure. Not his problem, I guess. Paid minimum wage to sit in a room,” he scoffs. “We can file the report but we can’t do much else. No footage, no proof--” 

“No proof? Look at my head. He ripped my hair out!” You whine. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve seen worse. Should count yourself lucky he left you alive,” he says. 

You shake your head and drop your arm, “uh... thanks, I guess.” 

“Look,” he exhales. “I really don’t have much to go on but this guy sniffs around again, call. File another report.” 

“Right,” you agree glumly. “Thank you, officer.” 

He shrugs, “have a good night. You want me to stick around while you lock up.” 

“It’s fine, I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.” 

You sniff and turn around. You’re not surprised by his indifference or his answers. You have friends who had men pounding on their doors and the same reaction. You saw police arresting drunk girls instead of the guys who cornered them in the bathroom. There isn’t much anyone can do, it seems. Especially not you. 

You go through the closing list. You know it by rote but that night, you’re uncertain. You check the clipboard that hangs behind the counter. You’re fractured. The whole world feels like it’s strewn before you. Nothing fits together. You feel like you’re disconnected from your own body. 

God, your head hurts. 

You stop and open up the front camera on your phone. You look at the bald patch again. Near the back. You can’t really see it head on but it’s there. Or not. He just... did that? He took a part of you. 

You close your phone and put it in your pocket. You pull on your jacket and hike your bag onto your shoulders. As you do, the Pom Pom falls onto the floor. You tossed it on top but didn’t hook it on. You pick it up, quivering. That man... did he find it or take it? 

You squeeze it and grab the keys from the hook. You pull the gate across the store front and lock it. You turn to face the empty mall. 

The idea of going out into the dark and waiting for the bus is the same as scaling a mountain with your bare hands. You make yourself move. The longer you wait, the more likely you’ll miss it.  

Your steps echo around you. You flinch and glance over your shoulders, back and forth, even spinning to make sure you’re alone. 

How are you supposed to do this? After what he did to you. Did he just see you on the bus and decide to mess with you? How did he track you to the store? You had your jacket on, he couldn’t see your name tag or uniform. You didn’t have your badge out. 

You can’t figure any of it out. Would it matter if you could. 

You slow down as you approach the doors. You look out and see the bright signs for the businesses housed in the mall and the other plazas close by, headlights shining along the street. You push through the first door and stand in the vestibule. 

You still have the fluffy pom pom in your hand. You unhook your bag from one shoulder and hook it on. You trade the store keys for your house keys and poke one out between your fingers. You’re on your own. 

You walk out into the night. You don’t stop. You almost jog across the lot out to the bus stop by the road. You duck into the shelter, the lights keeping you safe in their glow. Or so you hope. 

The bus pulls up only a few minutes after. Your relief flows out of your chest as you scan your pass. You find a seat at the back and sit. You want to see everyone else. 

The tires grind the gravel and veer back onto the road. They slow again at the next stop around the corner. You watch the passenger turn and you know him in an instant. He stalks down the center of the bus and climbs the steps up to the back level. He does just as he did that morning. 

He sits beside you. You can’t move or speak. You can’t believe it. 

He must know that no one else cares. He’s counting on it. You’re breathless as you shake, your ribs wracked as adrenaline burns through you. 

“Why?” You quaver weakly. He doesn’t answer. You lean away from him and touch your head, grazing your tender scalp. “Please, why me?”  

Still nothing. 

“Why are you doing this?” You whimper. 

He closes his eyes and lifts his chin. His hand moves from his leg onto yours and he squeezes. You tremble as his fingertips dig into your flesh. 

“Please, stop!” You cry out and slap his hand. 

No reaction. What is wrong with him? You wriggle and look at your other hand; the key poking out from your fist. You bring it down towards his hand but he’s fast. He retracts his touch and the key sinks into your thigh muscle. You screech, and he reaches across to tug the cord. 

“What’s going on back there?” The driver hollers back as he stops. 

The man stands and marches away. He doesn’t answer the driver or look back. He steps off the bus and you watch him through the window. He almost fades into the dark as he delves into the shadows of the buildings.  

“Knock it off,” the driver warns as he puts his foot on the pedal. 

You puff between your teeth and look around at the other passengers; deafened by headphones and ear buds, engrossed in their screens and pages. There’s at least ten other riders yet you’re all alone. 

You look down. You quaking as you let go of the key and it sticks out of your leg. You cringe and grasp it as tight as you can. You hold your breath as you rip it out. Argh.  

That officer was right. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse. 

[reigningqueenofwords]

Oh, Sassy

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,610 Request: Anonymous. May I ask for Dean getting to know a car girl who is also a chef (like she loves food and stuff)? Take care of yourself and drink enough! Xx

“Y/L/N!” Your boss called out, making you slide out from under the car you were under. 

“Yeah?” You called back as you got up and made your way to his office. “What’s up?” Leaning on his door frame, you crossed your arms. “I was just finishing up Mr. Carson’s car. You know the one you jumped down my throat about this morning?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Your boss gave you a bored look. “This is Dean Johnson.” He sighed, motioning to the man sitting across from him. “New hire. He’s gonna be shadowing you while he gets used to the garage. Probably only a couple days.” He shrugged. 

You gave Dean a small wave. “Why me? I work odd hours because of the restaurant.” You reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to shadow one of the guys who are here all day?” 

“Nate’s last day is Friday, he’s moving, remember? Then Gage threatened the last guy I hired within two hours and made him quit. Kyle is…Kyle.” All you could do was nod at that, knowing exactly what he meant. Kyle was nice, but a bit out there. 

Sighing, you nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m only here for another hour. It’s up to him if he wants to help me on Mr. Carson’s car or meet me here tomorrow morning.” 

“I’m here, might as well start, right?” He smiled as he got up. “Nice to meet you.” Dean held out his hand for you.

You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N/N. Let’s go get started. Do you have something to change into?” 

He glanced at his clothes, then at you. “Should I? I usually work on cars in jeans and a t-shirt. Sometimes I’ll throw on a jumpsuit.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, we had jumpsuits when I first started, but we all got tired of wearing them.” You motioned for him to follow you to the car. “Right now I’m finishing up this old 1993 Pontiac Bonneville. Mr. Carson will be in first thing tomorrow morning to pick it up, so you’ll meet him then.” 

“You make it sound like he’s a grumpy old man.” He chuckled. 

“Sometimes.” You said simply, wanting to get back to work. 

Finally, you were clocked out and walking through the parking lot. You lived just a couple blocks away, so you didn’t bother to drive. You had an hour and a half to clean up and get to your second job. “Need a ride?” Came Dean’s voice, making you look over. He was standing next to a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala. 

“Nice car.” You motioned. “But I’m good. I live a couple blocks away.” You shrugged. “Thanks, though.” 

“Anytime.” He said simply before getting in. 

The next day, you yawned as you walked in, downing a large Monster Ultra. “Those things will kill ya.” Dean told you from where he was leaning against the wall. 

“But it keeps all you guys alive after I’ve worked most of the night.” You gave him a sarcastic smile. “And why are you out here…and not in the garage? Are you in time out?” 

“Oh, sassy. Nice.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been put in time out before?” 

“Gage got mouthy my first week here, so I might have superglued a couple of his tools to his bench.” You shrugged. 

Dean threw his head back, laughing. “Oh, that’s hysterical. My brother would do that to me. Don’t give him any ideas if you ever meet him.” He shook his head. “And no, I’m not in time out. I was told to wait out here for my ‘babysitter’ by one of the guys. He didn’t give me a name.” 

You nodded, motioning for him to follow you to the back. “That would be Nate.” You told him. “Bummed that he’s leaving.” He was a chill guy overall, and didn’t really get mouthy like Gage. And he was all there, unlike Kyle. 

“So, you said you worked most of the night. Second job?”

“Yeah, I’m a chef.” You finished your drink and tossed the can into the recycling bin. 

His eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re a mechanic and a chef?” Dean couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed, then remembered hearing you mention a restaurant the day before. Now that made sense. “Couldn’t pick one?” 

Laughing, you pulled your hair into a pony tail. “Nope. I used to help my dad work on cars when I was a kid. He died when I was 13, and I kept it up. When I was 15 I got sick. I binged Food Network for a few days. I went to culinary school when I graduated. Couldn’t find a job as a chef right away, so I got a job as a mechanic right outside of town. After working there a year, I finally landed a job as a chef. Quit my other job. And that seemed to be okay for a bit, but something was missing.” 

“You missed being a grease monkey.” 

You nodded. “I really did. Started working here about 9 months ago. Bossman likes to get on my case. I think it’s because I’m the only girl, but he’s not a bad guy.” By now you were used to it, and just dealt with it. “What about you? What’s your story, Johnson?” 

“Traveled a lot as a kid, and kept it up after my dad died about a year and a half ago. Finally decided I was tired of it. So, me and my brother picked a spot to stay put for a while.” Dean knew he was omitting details, but he didn’t feel he was truly lying to you. How could he say he was wanted by the FBI? And that his family had hunted spirits up until recently? That his brother had psychic powers? He would be honest as much as he could, while keeping out other things. 

“Losing a parent is tough. I’m sorry for your loss.” You said honestly. 

“Y/L/N. Mr. Carson is here for his car!” Your boss called down the hall. 

“Coming!” You called back before glancing at Dean. “Ready to see if he’s a grumpy old man today?” 

You and Dean got along great, and you found yourself crushing on him as the days went by. He was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have a friend at work. A couple weeks after he started, you approached him at lunch. “Hey, De? I have a question.” 

He grinned at you. “De, I like it. What can I do for you?” 

“There’s this awards thing for all the chefs in the state this weekend, and I kinda don’t want to go alone…” You explained awkwardly. “I was wondering if you’d come with me?” 

“Like a date?” He licked his lips, clearly flirting with you. 

There was no way to stop the blush that formed on your cheeks. “I-if you’d like.” Why turn down a date with a fun, nice, and handsome guy? 

“Do I need a suit?” 

“Unless you have a tux.” You joked. “But a suit should be fine.” 

Dean sipped his soda. “Guess we’ll have to exchange numbers. I can drive. We can arrive in style. Unless you have a nicer car than Baby, which I doubt.” 

“I have nothing as pretty as her.” You told him. “Dinner will be served at the awards, as well, so we’ll be well fed.” 

“Do I get to try your cooking?” He was curious, that was for sure. 

You pretended to think. “Maybe on our second date.” 

Dean leaned against Baby as he waited for you downstairs. He stood up straight when he saw you come out. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.” 

“You look very handsome, too. You didn’t have to rent a tux, though.” You smiled. 

“It’s an awards thing, right? Gotta look good.” He brushed over the front of his jacket. “And clearly I needed it because you look… wow .” It wasn’t like him to be this speechless, but he was so used to seeing you in a tank top and jeans. He was used to seeing you with grease all over you, your hair pulled up out of your face. “Shall we?” He moved to open the door for you. 

Smiling, you stepped forward. “We shall. And hey, maybe you’ll be a good luck charm and I’ll win an award.” It would mean a lot to you if you did. 

“Hi, Dean, come in.” You opened your apartment door for him. The date to the awards had been a blast, even if you didn’t win anything. When he dropped you off after, you kissed his cheek and asked him out on a second date for the next night. Dinner at your place. 

His face lit up when he saw you. “Hi, sweetheart.” He greeted you. “Oh, these are for you.” He held out a bouquet of flowers. 

Smiling, you took them. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You shut the door behind him once he was inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, water, soda, milk?” 

“Beer. Thank you.” He looked around your living room as you went to put the flowers in some water and get him a beer. “So, something smells amazing.” His mouth was watering. 

“Thank you.” Handing him his beer, you sipped your own. “Baked potatoes are almost done, and then I’m making some steaks with butter garlic onions. Then, for dessert, homemade cherry pie.” 

“Love me some cherry pie.” Dean winked. “Sounds delicious, sweetheart.” One perk about staying in one place was not having to microwave his meals. “Maybe for our next date I’ll have you over for burgers. I make a mean bacon cheeseburger. I’m sure I can tell my brother to scram for a few hours.” He was already mentally planning a few dates for the two of you, wanting to spend as much time as he could with you. He pictured taking you to the movies, out to eat, to the beach, and to the fair. Maybe walking away from hunting was the best thing that happened to him because he’d met you. 

You smirked at him. “What? Are you worried your brother is more charming than you?” You teased him. 

He chuckled and shook his head. “More like I don’t want my baby brother around while we’re on a date.” He countered before taking a swig of his beer. “Want any help?” He asked when your timer went off. 

“Sure. Can you get the cheese and sour cream from the fridge and put them on the table? And how do you like your steak? Warning: you say well done and I’m kicking you out.” You gave him a playful look. You couldn’t help it, he made you feel fun . 

“You wound me. Do I look like the kind of douche that would order ‘well done’?” He put his hand on his chest. “Medium-rare, thank you.” 

“Good boy.” You winked before heading to start the steaks. Hearing Dean groan lightly, you giggled to yourself. 

One year from the date of that awards show, you were moving into the house that Sam and Dean rented. You got along with Sam, and had no problems with him staying. If anything, you felt it was a really good idea. Because you had two jobs, there were technically four incomes for one home (also, because you worked two jobs…you did the least amount of housework, only doing it on your days off). “That was the last box.” You grinned as you saw Dean coming down the stairs. “I am officially all moved in.” 

“Awesome.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Sammy has to work until 5, so he said he’ll meet us for dinner.” He took the box from you and went to take it upstairs. 

“So, this means we have a few hours to ‘celebrate’? Just us?” You followed him, eyes on his butt. “I work tonight, so right now would be perfect.” 

“I like how you think, sweetheart.” The two of you just seemed to fit together perfectly. 

“I’m home!” You called out as you shut the door behind you. 

“You’re early.” Dean glanced at the clock. “Like…4 hours early. What’s wrong?” He saw the look on your face and rushed to you. 

You sniffed. “Uh, remember Darla?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, the older waitress that told you she wanted to pinch my cheeks? Everything okay?” 

“She didn’t come in for her shift tonight, which is really unlike her. She has never missed a shift without calling, and even that’s rare.” You started. “So we sent Jimmy, the busboy, to check on her.” Your voice broke. “Poor Darla…Poor Jimmy.” 

“Baby, what happened?” 

“Her door was busted in. And sh-she was dead. Brutally killed.” He pulled you to him, holding you tight as you cried. “We closed early for the night, and the cops came to talk to everyone before we got sent home.” 

He hated that you were hurting, but beyond thankful that you weren’t the one that went to check on her. You didn’t need to see something like that. “Do they have any idea who killed her?” 

You shook your head. “I asked one of the officers how she died. The look on his face…” You breathed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “He said he’s never seen anything like it, and if he didn’t know any better, that a bear got her.” 

“A bear?” He furrowed his brows. 

“That’s how bad she looked.” Letting out a breath, you stepped back. “I’m going to take a hot shower and take a couple sleeping pills.” You kissed his cheek softly. 

He nodded, rubbing your arm. “I’ll be up shortly.” Sam was supposed to be home from work soon, and wanted to talk to him about this. Something in his gut told him his two years in town were coming to an end. He watched you slip off your shoes and then make your way upstairs. He’d stay and grow old with you if he had the choice. Part of him had let himself dream about an actual future with you. The two of you working on Baby with a little you. Him watching you teach a little him how to properly chop on onion. Clenching his jaw, he forced down the tears. 

“Dean?” Sam paused in the door. “What’s going on?” 

Looking at his brother, he didn’t have to say a word. He saw that Sam understood what was going on. Sam knew that them living away from the supernatural was over. He was angry enough that he was losing his apple pie life, but even angrier that Sam was losing his. His baby brother had really just started letting his guard down in the last 6 months or so. Just in time for it to blow up in their faces. 

Dean jerked awake when his phone rang. “Hello?” He yawned as you shifted besides him. “Bobby?” He sat up. Dean had called him now and then to check in, but Bobby never called him. 

“You still in that town you told me you settled in?” 

“Yeah, we are.” He said softly, glancing at you before slipping out of bed. He didn’t want to risk waking you up. 

Bobby sighed. “Been hearing rumors from the town about half an hour away. Sounds like a crossroads demon.” He warned him. “I don’t know if it ever went your way…”

Dean groaned. “It has.” He knew that was what tore Darla apart. “Y/N/N’s coworker must have been one of them. She came home upset, and I can’t blame her. Darla was always nice.” He ran a hand over his face. “We had planned to keep an eye out just in case.” 

“Not gonna lie, was hoping it woulda passed your town by.” Bobby told him. 

Standing in the kitchen, Dean looked out the window into the backyard. The same backyard that you had just been lounging in the day before, in the bikini you’d bought just to wear for him. “Maybe it’s a sign, Bobby.” He said, letting his emotions show. “Maybe it’s a sign I need to get out of town. What’s next? Werewolves? Vampires? I can’t let her die.” 

“Dean, you’ve been there two years.” Bobby pointed out. “In those two years I’ve heard you happier than I ever have before. You’ve sounded more alive than ever before.” He was clearly trying to talk Dean out of leaving. “That woman loves you! And from what Sam says, she’s perfect for you. Walk away now, and you’ll always wonder what could have been.” 

“What happens if we decide to have a family one day, and then something comes after them? What if I can’t protect them?” 

“Boy, that’s a question every parent has. To this day I wonder the same damn thing! You boys might be hunters, but you’re my boys. At least think about things.” 

Sighing, Dean closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bobby. We’re leaving.” 

Waking up, you rolled over to cuddle Dean, but he wasn’t there. “De?” You blinked, slipping out of bed. Usually, if he couldn’t sleep, you could find him in the garage, so that’s where you went. “De?” 

He whipped around, blocking the trunk. “Baby?” He had clearly been crying. 

“What’s going on? What the hell is that in your trunk?” You moved over to look. “Why do you have so many weapons?” Your eyes went to him. “Why were you crying?” 

“Let’s go inside to talk. Sammy, why don’t you go start packing my clothes?” He glanced to Sam, who was off to the side. 

“Why does he need to pack your clothes?” Why weren’t you getting any answers? You pulled your arm from him as he tried to lead you away from Baby. “Talk to me!” 

“My name isn’t Dean Johnson.” He swallowed. “My name is Dean Winchester, and up until I moved to town…Sammy and I traveled the country hunting things.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Hunting things? Like deer?” 

“I wish.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Vampires, ghosts, demons, wendigos.” He listed. 

Blinking, you tried to let that sink in. “You’re telling me that’s all real?” You stared at him. “Say I believe you, why leave now? Why try to leave in the middle of the night?” 

“Because Darla was killed by a hellhound. She must have made a crossroads deal and her time was up.” He explained. “It was a wake up call. We can’t escape that life.” 

“You’re leaving me, us, because someone else was killed?” Of course you cared about Darla, but what did she have to do with your relationship with Dean? 

“What if the next thing that comes through targets you?” 

“By that logic- you running away from your girlfriend is running away from protecting her!” You countered. “What if something comes through, and you aren’t here? What then, Dean?!” 

“Us being here is like a beacon. Bad things just follow us.” 

You shook your head. “So, what the hell was the last 2 years? What bad happened then?” You locked your eyes on his. “What ‘bad thing’ followed you over these past 2 years?”

He looked down. “Nothing.” He admitted. “They were the best 2 years of my life. I let myself hope for things that I can’t have.” He managed. 

“Who the hell says you can’t have them? I’m here, aren’t I? I love you, and I think I’m pretty fucking good!” You threw your hands up. 

“Sam got out once. Had the apple pie life. It got his girlfriend killed.” He told you. “I can’t let that happen to you. I love you too much.” 

Clenching your jaw, you stepped closer to him. “So don’t let it.” You said firmly. “Teach me.” 

Dean whipped his head up to stare at you. “What?” He breathed. 

“Teach me. I’m a fast learner.” Your heart was pounding in your chest. “We stay right here while you teach me anything I have to know. I’m sure there’s a way to make this house safe, right?” He nodded a bit. “Then we do that. I’ll quit my job as a chef, and we keep working. All three of us. You teach me until you think I know what I need to know. Then we can leave.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that. You have a life here.” The pain couldn’t be hidden from his eyes. “You don’t want to live motel to motel. Eating shitty food and sleeping on crappy beds.” 

You cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile. “You know why I want to do this?” 

“Why?” 

“Because I love you too much to let you walk away from me.” You kissed him softly. “I can’t see my life without you. We all have some money put aside, and we can put even more aside between now and when we leave. That’ll get us a couple nicer motel rooms now and then, right?” 

Dean looked in your eyes, wondering how the hell he got so lucky to find you. “You believe me?” 

You took a breath. “Mostly.” You admitted. “It’s a hard thing to wrap my head around, but I’m sure as you tell me more, and as you teach me- I’ll come around.” Your heart told you to trust what he was saying. “Please, let’s go back inside, tell Sam to stop packing, and talk.” 

“You won’t hate me for taking you from the two things you love? Cooking and working on cars?” 

“I’d hate myself for letting you walk away.” 

[oh-no-its-bird]

hi listen i just had a divine intervention or smth lmk if you don't like it but

what if your team Ro time travel au + my time travel Tobirama

Team Ro would have memories of the canon and they got to this different timeline and there's Tobirama actively trying to seduce Uchiha fucking Madara. They didn't teach THAT in the Academy

They got in the time when Tobirama still orchestrated meetings, but Butsuma is already dead so if everything goes well, Tobirama would get Madara and peace soon.

And then there suddenly spawn a Hatake with a sharingan with 2 Uchiha kids and a Mokuton user. Political nightmare.

Later Tobirama recognises Kakashi and was like "The fuck? It's that Hatake from the war. What is he doing there, he should not have been born yet!!"

OHHH THATS SO GOOD THO???

I'm gonna be real I love the concept of "team ro time travel au but they time travel into someone else's time travel au," that's so good

If we go with your au, there's a really interesting immediate aspect of like: hey ! Tobirama might recognize Kakashi or maybe even Tenzo from the war, but these guys are way fucking younger than when they met !!!

Idk what exactly can be done with that but it's interesting to consider. Also Tobirama talked ab Itachi and his crimes before I'm p sure? So like he knows what happens to the Uchiha and that it was Itachi who did it for the village. I wanna see him faced w the kid who he once praised for slaughtering his own clan to prove his loyalty.

I wanna see him feel the consequences of the stress Itachi is under when he (and possibly Shisui) attempt to kill Madara.

Stop interfering with his fix it fic you brats!! He's already got it covered!! You're just causing a mess!!!!

They get zapped in, like, in the middle of Tobirama's happy ending epilogue too. Tobirama is peacefully eating dinner in his house w his new husband Madara thinking "well. Alls well that ends well." Then BOOM Kakashi Shisui Itachi and Tenzo crash out of fucking nowhere directly onto their table, getting covered in food and breaking the table in half

Immediatley arrested !! I feel like Tobirama would instantly understand what happened by recognizing their uniforms + potentially Kakashi + he's already a time traveler himself so it's really no stretch for him to go "oh fuck I didn't think we'd get a double jepordy in this bitch but I guess not"

But like it's not like he can just SAY that ? Or he could but it would bring a lot of questions he probably does not want to answer.

Now another problem arises in like. I don't think Tobirama is especially attached to any of these guys. I can see him maybe having a lingering "pay it forward ig" feeling just bc they're "loyal konoha soldiers" and it'd be a waste to let that resource just burn. But also like. Under no circumstances can Tobirama have these guys share certain aspects of future knowledge.

Tobirama worked so hard to get here !!!! Literal years of planning !!!! He got his happy ending and it very much rests on Madara staying safe and sane and NO ONE IMPLYING HE WILL BETRAY KONOHA EVER !!!!! Tobirama does not even wanna RISK that becoming a rumor, he will take no chances.

Anyways I think his best course of action would be to reveal himself as a time traveler specifically to team ro, then position himself as their hokage who they should remain loyal to, say that it is for Konoha's best interests that they do not reveal certain things, and play it by ear from there.

Tobirama deciding he can't risk team ro going forward in time again and potentially fucking up the time stream or smthn. They need to stay here. He can not risk losing this shit. Sorry guys it looks like your trapped here <3

Anyways team ro being scary loyal to him bc he is the closest approximation to their (current?) Hokage and only person w the knowledge to enforce that power over them (at this time)

In my original post, like, all of team ro are already established to be kind of at their worst and most loyal to the village at that point to. They are at THE age(s) to be manipulated like that tbh, rip

It's not too bad tho. I think Itachi would feel relieved but also very guilty. Shisui too. Tenzo is violently neutral bc hes still in his "learning to be a real boy" phase from root, but it's all positive for him tbh. Kakashi is tricky bc his mental state is the equivalent of someone rapidly bouncing a ball on a thin pane of glass trying to prove it's bullet proof (it's not) and has like MOUNTAINS of complexes around the words "konoha authority figure" and what he's leaving behind. He's probably the most determined to go back

Anyways uhh. Izuna gets Itachi to help him be skeptical of Tobirama and spy on him. Itachi only agrees bc he violently reminds him of Sasuke (this will develop into a complex if not stopped. Shisui is working on it.)