#ya boi needs a job lol

[tartabinger]

Psst, hey nerds, I've made a Childe-centric short film music video for my uni final and I have some surveys for my research that I'd like y'all to fill out if any of you are interested. I had to cut the animation down to just before the chorus but I'll share the full version whenever it's done~

Hi, everyone! I'm finishing up my course with an investigation into "crunch culture" in the film and media industry. To do this, I've created two versions of an animation, one of which you can watch by clicking on a 50/50 link, and I have attached a survey to the description each video to gather feedback (unfortunately, this cannot be done on mobile as I do not believe you can copy text from the YT description). Everything is completely anonymous unless you choose to contact me directly about your answers, and all data will be deleted shortly after the completion of my course.

I have a participant information sheet here that goes into a little more detail: https://mega.nz/file/1toESRAQ#0OJNEy_giABzImksZnOKY9BV2d3mUu1er7gh_8thd5o I have a group sorting survey here, so I can gather information about the demographic you belong to: https://forms.gle/MkhX1ZQBqo9xSzKy6 Here is the 50/50 link: https://5050.stannaz.uk/r?x=eW91dHUuYmUvQ1ZPZTF3d25iaTA&y=eW91dHUuYmUvdmYySHhvQUxHNjg Should you wish to no longer participate in my research, fill out this survey and your data will be deleted: https://forms.gle/pjffBEdsGwtPvExR8

And if you happen to be an animator or VFX artist working in industry, I would love to hear your opinions and experiences regarding "crunch culture" here: https://forms.gle/a6z82gtWLHGSkVqe9 If you know someone in those fields who might be interested in speaking about their experiences, please feel free to send the link their way - I can be contacted on most platforms as RafterSomeFood if they have any questions.

Many thanks in advance to everyone who chooses to participate. It really means a lot to me 😊

[upsidedowngrass]

erm... so this is awkward

[orcelito]

I do find it so funny that I will graduate college days away from my birthday. Like my birthday is literally in between the end of the semester ("graduation") and commencement

It really will be like a joint graduation & birthday party for me lmao

[ellecdc]

Can you imagine pregnant medic reader feeling baby kick for the first time and not wanting to interrupt the boys in practice/at a game but knowing how much they’d want to feel the baby?? (Can be with any of the boys or all of them LOL)

so cuttteeee

hockey!marauders x team medic!reader who interrupts practice [877 words]

CW: pregnancy, afab fem!reader, poly!marauders

The boys have been conflicted about you still working ever since they found out you were expecting. 

On one hand, they liked having you close by; within their sights should you need them, and just getting to enjoy the pregnancy with you even when they were traveling for away games.

On the other hand, they hated that you spent so much of your job on your feet, they were extremely nervous having you so close to the action of the game, and don’t even get them started when you have to step out onto the ice. 

But you were determined to work for as long as you possibly could, and you couldn’t deny that part of you enjoyed getting to spend as much time as possible with your boyfriends during this very exciting time of your lives.

Were there times you wondered if you wouldn’t perhaps benefit from a little space from them? Sure. Especially when James tried to sit in on all of your appointments with the guys to ensure you weren’t straining yourself, or when Sirius stood directly in your line of sight at every game in an attempt to ‘save you from the tomfoolery, babe’, or when Remus shoved anyone who tried to help you out onto the ice so he could chaperone you himself.

But there were moments - like this - that found you so grateful to have them close by. 

“You okay, mama?” Coach Moody asked, though he didn’t bother moving his gaze from the ice where head coach Albus was standing with the boys for practice. “You seem jumpy.” 

You hummed in agreement as you placed a hand on your stomach; gently pushing and prodding what felt like a hard part of a little body, wondering if you were only imagining it. 

You’d become aware that you weren’t simply growing at about eighteen weeks into your pregnancy when you felt the baby move for the first time. It was like you remembered that your pants were shrinking for an actual reason. But any movement on the baby's part could only be felt internally.

Today, however-

“Oh.” You whispered, and Moody wrenched his eyes from the ice to grab your elbow.

“Doc? Are you okay?” 

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” You let out with a laugh; looking to the ice to ensure the boys couldn’t see you being fussed over even though you sort of wanted to call them over here yourself. 

“What do you need?” Moody gruffed, though he kept his voice low as if knowing any attention directed your way would result in cacophony from nearly half the team.

“No, nothing. Sorry Coach.” You laughed. “I just…I think, well, the baby’s kicking.” 

Moody furrowed his eyes at you as he examined your face; one blue eye piercing and intuitive, the other glass eye which saw the iris and pupil replaced by the Gryffindor Lion’s logo seemed just as knowing.

“First time?” 

“First time I can feel it with my hand, yeah.” 

He looked you over one last time, cautiously removing his hand from your elbow and looking out onto the ice before blowing his whistle. 

“Gather ‘round.” He barked, and though Albus looked confused, he allowed the team to head to the bench. 

“Did ya miss us, Moody?” Sirius sing-songed as he made his way over, James laughing and Remus rolling his eyes in response. 

“The only time I get any peace is when the lot of you fuck off.” Moody barked back, but his face stayed soft. “Your baby’s kicking.” 

Sirius’ teasing smirk fell quickly as he whipped his head to you, James nearly fell over in his haste to make it to you and Remus quickly skated around the clump of bodies to join him; all three of them leaning against the boards in front of you.

“You didn’t have to stop practice for this…” You chided Moody gently, but it seemed that Sirus, James, and Remus weren’t the only one’s excited about it. 

“Oh my god! Can I feel!?” Fenwick called, earning him an elbow in the side from Remus. 

“Not before us? What the fuck…” Sirius mumbled, keeping his eyes on your stomach as if he could see it. 

“Well hurry up then! You’ve got a line behind you.” Grönvall hollered then.

“Goalie first; is rule.” Krum muttered as he placed himself in front of both Fenwick and Grönvall, though politely stayed behind the three boys who all tucked one glove under their opposite arm and held their hands out to you. 

The practice arena fell quiet as the entire team held their breath, and you felt sort of horrified at the sudden pressure to perform.

“This will be so embarrassing if it doesn’t happen again.” You admitted quietly, suddenly very embarrassed to have interrupted practice.

Remus made a humming sound in dissent as he brushed his thumb over your belly, and then it happened.

“Holy shit!” James cheered, Sirius’ head snapping up to beam a smile at you.

“Did you feel that!?” Sirius asked no one in particular, but you, James, and Remus all confirmed that you did.

“Okay great! Next!” Dearborn called from behind Grönvall, and that’s how you ended up spending the rest of the practice with various hands on your stomach at any given moment.

[little-mimikyuwu]

.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Melt

"And if I die because you made me melt, oh well."

Summary: You and Frankie spend a hot summer day by the pool

Word Count: 1.8K

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, semi-public shenanigans (we're assuming there's a big, tall fence around the pool lmao), Frankie being our 🐱 eating king, Frankie being the sweetest and so obsessed with you, poor Pope probably needs to clean his pool after these two leave, reader wears a bathing suit, can swim and can get sunburned

A/N: HEY HOMIES, IT'S YA GIRL!!!!! What better way to celebrate National Catfish Day than with a lil poolside Frankie 🤪 It has been hotter than Satan's ballsack out here in the midwest, so this song is dedicated to this ongoing heatwave and this song that I am absolutely obsessed with and is SO Frankie coded 😭 This is the first thing that I have worked on since May so apologies in advance for bein' a little rusty, but I'm excited to finally be back on the writing train again!!! ily all, big forehead kisses for each of you MWAH!!!! 🥹 poorly beta'd bc that's how i roll

Love it or hate it, if there was one thing that you could always count on, it was the fact that summers in south Florida were hot. 

Really fucking hot. 

So when Pope had offered up his pool for you and Frankie to use while he was out of town for the week, it was a no brainer that the two of you had ecstatically accepted his invitation. 

“We really owe Pope for this one, huh?” You smirked, setting down your beach bag on one of the lounge chairs spread across the pool deck, pulling out some sunscreen and towels for you and Frankie. 

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Frankie sighed, nodding his head in agreement, admiring the crystal blue water sparkling in the heat of the hot summer sun, hands on his hips as he looked out over the pool. 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you stood behind him, secretly whipping out your phone to take a picture of Frankie inspecting the pool before quickly texting it to Pope, knowing what a kick he’d get out of it. 

You: Thanks for letting us use the pool! New pool boy is taking his job very seriously. 🫡

Pope: Haha. Would have looked better if he showed up in a bikini. Have fun u 2. 

“What are you laughing at?” Frankie asked, turning around to the sounds of your sneaky snickers before feeling his own phone buzz in his pocket, looking down to see a text from Pope. 

Pope: Your wife thinks you’d make a good pool boy. Told her you need a bikini first. Have fun with Mrs. Fish today.

Pope: Not too much fun though. 🤨

Frankie: Sorry to disappoint. 

Frankie: What’s that supposed to mean? 

Pope: I just cleaned the pool before I left. Don’t need any baby fish swimming around in there if you know what I mean 🐟 💦 lol

Frankie: Jesus christ, Pope.

Frankie shook his head as he slipped his phone back into his pocket as he made his way over to you, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. 

“You think I’d make a good pool boy, huh?” He smirked, planting a chaste kiss in your lips as the two of you laughed. 

“The best. But only if you give me another kiss and put some sunscreen on me so I don’t turn into a lobster.” You teased, kissing him right back before pulling away to grab the sunscreen bottle, passing it off to him. 

“Fair enough.” 

As he took the bottle from you, starting to shake it up, Frankie couldn’t help stop and watch in awe as you began to remove your coverup. Underneath, it revealed the little, strappy, bright yellow bikini you had just bought, deciding that today would be a good choice to show it off for the first time with just you and your husband together. 

“Fuck me…” Frankie whispered under his breath, his tongue darting out of his mouth and swiping over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, admiring every sun-kissed inch of your soft skin and the way the fabric of your swimsuit hugged your curves. “Is this- fuck, is this new?” he asked softly, his sweet brown eyes just about popping out of his head, trying to use every ounce of self composure to even form a coherent question. 

“Do you like it? I got it a few days ago when I was out. Figured I could use a new one.” You blushed, biting down on your lip at Frankie’s reaction, wondering how in the world he still managed to make you feel as beautiful as he did the first night he’d met you after all your time spent together. 

“Can I show you?” Frankie asked, running his hands along your waist, gently toying with the strings holding your swimsuit bottoms together. 

“Show me what?” 

“Show you how much I like it?” He responded, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his fingers slowly began to undo the bow tied around your hips while he gently nipped at your neck, making your stomach swell with arousal. 

“Mhmmmmmm.” You nodded, carefully backing up until your legs hit the lounge chair behind you, Frankie gently guiding you to sit down and lay back while he nestled himself between your legs, draping each one over his bare, broad shoulders, his tanned and freckled skin glowing in the blazing afternoon sun. 

Frankie wasted no time planting soft kisses up the inside of your thighs, the familiar scratch of his beard and mustache against your skin making you moan in eager anticipation as you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your swimsuit bottoms. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that? I’m so lucky.” He whispered between kisses along the meat of your thighs before stopping at your core, letting his fingers brush against the fabric of your swimsuit, sneaking under the material just enough to feel how wet you had already become in the few short moments since you had sat down. 

“Seems like you're pretty wet for not even getting in the pool yet, Hermosa.” Frankie teased, the ghosting of his fingers along your cunt making you whine as you propped your head up to see the devilish smirk between his cheeks. 

Almost painfully slowly, Frankie untied the first, then second bow holding your bottoms together on each hip, watching your swimsuit fall to the ground, revealing your pussy, slick and puffy, worked up from Frankie’s touch. 

“So pretty…” He cooed, letting his fingers drag across your cunt, collecting your arousal and rubbing at your clit, already aching to be touched. 

Frankie was nothing if not a methodical man, memorizing every twitch and hitched breath beneath his touch, learning all the things that absolutely drove you wild.

Knowing that he could be the only one to make you feel this good got him off more than anything else ever could.

He couldn’t help but grin at the way your lips fell to a perfectly parted “O” as he pressed more pressure against your sensitive nub, and how they fell even wider as he pressed two of his fingers into your entrance, gently curling them to bump against the soft, spongy spot inside you that had you clenching around his hand. 

“Oh Frankie… Fuck…” You whimpered, your head falling back as Frankie’s fingers were soon followed by his tongue, licking a long, broad strip across your cunt, ​​putting just the right amount of pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his fingers worked in tandem to make that all too familiar sweet tingling sensation to start build in your stomach. 

Frankie’s tongue danced in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you with just his fingers. That, combined with the meticulous and skilled motions of his tongue had the coil in your belly beginning to tighten further and further. 

Your hand shot down between your parted legs, reaching to grab a fistful of Frankie’s brown, curly locks, thick and sweaty from the heat, tugging just hard enough to force his gaze up towards you, your eyes locking with his rich, brown ones. 

“F-Frankie-” Was all you were able to mutter as he continued with his fingers to press against your g-spot, slick coating his digits with each stroke. He licked one more strip along your pussy before placing soft kisses on your clit and the inside of your thighs, peeking up at you with a boyish grin. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. I know you’re close, baby girl. Let me feel you, mi amor. Wanna taste you all over me.” Frankie moaned, the low rumble of his words making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as he dove back between your legs, wrapping his free arm around one of your thighs, firmly holding you in place. 

Curving his fingers ever so slightly and latching his lips around your clit, you knew it was only a matter of moments before Frankie was about to make you fall apart completely. You could feel your legs begin to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter around his fingers, able to utter nothing but a “F-fuck…” as you felt your orgasm rip through you, your pussy fluttering as pleasure radiated in your veins and soaked Frankie below you. 

Frankie worked persistently through your high, only pulling back after making sure that you had cum for him with everything that you had in you, sitting back on his haunches as he admired the blissed out and ragged mess you had become. Your pussy was slick and swollen as your chest rose and fell in wrecked inhales and exhales, trying to compose yourself from the way Frankie had fucked you senseless with just his tongue. 

“Frankie, holy fuck.” You whispered under your breath, still trying to regain your composure as you looked down at a satisfied Frankie, wiping the slick and juices glistening in his mustache with the back of his hand with a smirk. 

“Always taste so sweet, Hermosa. You’re so fucking hot, I swear you’d make me melt faster than the sun.” 

The two of you both couldn’t help but snort at Frankie’s cheesy comment, sitting up as you giggled to grab Frankie’s face and bring him in for a long, deep kiss, the taste of you still fresh on his tongue. 

“You are such a cheeseball, Fransisco Morales. I can’t believe that- Frankie! Frankie! Put me down! No, no, no, no, you better not-” But before you could finish the rest of your sentence, Frankie had already picked you up out of your chair, flung you over his shoulder and had you flailing your arms and legs as he carried you towards the edge of the pool, jumping in with you mid-way through your poorly fought protest. 

Your heads bobbed to the surface, still in a fit of laughter as you floated in the refreshing cool of the sparkling pool water, you wrapped your legs around Frankie’s waist, draping your arms over his shoulders while he pulled you closer to his chest. 

“Sorry, mi amor, what were you saying?” Frankie teased, raising a playful eyebrow at you as he grinned with his goofy smile, making you over dramatically roll your eyes at him. 

“One, that you are the biggest goof I’ve ever met and I love you for it,” You snickered, plating a soft kiss on his plush lips, “and two, I think I can practically hear Pope screaming at you for the fact I’m half naked in his pool.” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”   

Taglist

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby

@fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha

@jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

@pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns

@missladym1981 @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color

@persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow

@vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller

@mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring

@itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[oneforthemunny]

has anybody sent in something for our loverboy hockey!eddie yet 🥹 if not here you gooooo

jealousy, ex!boyfriend, angst to fluff please 🥹

for my loveeerrrrrrr <3!!! ofc had to make the ex a lover, sunshine boy too so it's sunshine vs sunshine bc i'm feeling evil lol.

"You know, I've fuckin' missed this so much." Eddie grinned at you from across the booth, leg shaking with excitement, fingers drumming on the table, over the laminated menu of the diner.

"Yeah?" You giggled. "You missed Benny's or you missed me?"

"Both." Eddie grinned back, toothy and wide in a way that made your heart swoon. "Missed you the most, sweetheart, you know tha-"

A man stopped in front of your table, his name leaving your lips before you could recognize him- Ryan.

"Hey," You blinked, a squeak in your voice that had Eddie's attention snapping to you. "Ryan- uh, how have you been?"

"Good, ya know? Busy at school. I'm trying for the Principal job at Rogers Clark Elementary."

"Oh? You got your degree? I didn't know you went back to school."

Eddie burned at how your attention was on this guy, whoever the fuck he was. A frown pulling at his brows, knitting them together nearly petulantly.

"Yeah, I decided to go back. I love being a teacher, ya know, but longterm... Just needed to make more money." Ryan nodded, just as bubbly and nice as you remembered. You certainly had a type.

His eyes flashed over to Eddie. "Oh, uh, Ryan this is my boyfriend, Eddie." You swallowed the awkwardness.

"Oh, shit. I know you." Ryan grinned, reaching his hand out to shake Eddie's. "You play for the Reapers, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Eddie nodded, his voice a little tighter than usual, so was his grip on Ryan's hand when he shook it.

"I caught the end of the game last week, it was unreal. What a way to end the season." Ryan nodded.

"Thanks, yeah, it was. It was a good season." Eddie smiled lightly, looking over at you. "Glad to be home now."

Ryan looked from Eddie to you, nodding awkwardly. "Sorry, I'll let you two get back to it. Just wanted to say hi."

"Good to see you, Ryan. Good luck!" You waved to him as he walked off, turning back to Eddie, greeted by a rather sulky pout.

"What?" Your lips curled gently.

"Was that Ryan-Ryan?" Eddie frowned. "The ex?"

"Yeah, the ex." You nodded awkwardly, flipping the menu over. "Are you getting chocolate chip waffles? Or an omelette?"

Eddie didn't reply, face still long in a pout, arms crossing over his chest. "What?" You looked at him, a soft, lifted brow in question. "What's wrong?"

Eddie looked at you, then back over his shoulder. "Why were you all happy to see Ryan?" He said his name with disgust.

"Happy? I don't think I was happy." You rolled your eyes lightly. "I was being polite."

"Yeah, well, he was too polite to you." Eddie grumbled, sulking over the table. "Weird guy."

"Eddie," You laughed lightly, setting down you menu. "Seriously?"

Eddie didn't let up, his frown furrowing more, lip jutting farther. You giggled at his petulant look, sliding out from your side of the booth, and into his side, your body pressed up against his.

"You don't have to worry about Ryan or anyone, baby, you know you don't." You muttered, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him close to you. Your lips ducked under Eddie's waterfall of curls, peppering kisses to his cheek until you felt them tug, curling in a soft grin he tried to hide.

[cosmicpearlz]

my love is mine, all mine (pt 2)

summary: more glimpses of your relationship with jude!

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: i’m having too much fun writing these scenarios lol

~one~

you rarely ever get into arguments with jude but when it does happen, it’s terrible on everyone’s part. this particular moment was about him not spending enough time with you.

“so you’re saying i can’t hangout with my friends? because that’s what it’s sounding like.”

“jude, that’s not what i’m saying! i’m just saying that it would be nice to have a day with just us. i feel like i’m left on a back burner right now.”

“we do hangout. i mean, i’m here right now but you wanna spend the time arguing!”

“tell me the last time we had a day to ourselves! please enlighten me,” you were beyond frustrated and your head was hurting from all the yelling.

“stop being so fucking clingy. i see you at home every night! we don’t need to be together 24/7.”

you felt your heart throbbing from the pain of hearing those words. is it really such a crime to want quality time with someone you love? between his training sessions and your job, there hasn’t been much alone time.

“okay. my apologies for wanting my boyfriend here with me. i won’t ask again,” you took a step back, looking down to possibly stop the tears. it didn’t work. the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

jude instantly regretted saying that. he understood completely where you were coming from but the stubbornness in him clouded his judgement.

“baby, i’m-“

“i don’t wanna talk to you jude.”

-

it’s been hours since he last saw you. jude already made the guest room into his bed for the night and found himself restless. he wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but he couldn’t sleep without you near. even if you guys weren’t cuddling, at least his hand could be on you in some way. so he tossed and turned until he had enough.

jude makes his way to the room door, raising his hand to knock when the door swings open. it startles the both of you. leaving you to stare at each other in silence. jude noticed the dry tear streaks that laid on the apple of your cheeks. it made him feel worse.

“you really hurt-“

“i’m sorry bab-“

speaking at the same time wasn’t uncommon for you two, causing the both of you to let out a breathy laugh.

“you can go first honey,” his light whisper fell into the air as if he were too scared to talk any louder.

“jude, you really hurt my feelings earlier. i just wanted to spend time with you and you made it seem like i was asking for a million dollars or something bigger. i didn’t feel heard during our conversation but unfortunately i can’t sleep without you. so i was coming to drag you to bed even though i’m still very mad at you.”

“baby i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for hurting your feelings. i want you to know that i don’t mean it. hell, everyone knows i’m the clingy one! you’re the love of my life and i would spend days mending whatever hurt i caused,” his hands came to rest on your cheeks, fingers softly swiping at the dry tear stains.

“can we go to bed now? i’m exhausted and we can finish talking in the morning,” jude nods in response to you and kisses your nose.

“yeah, let’s go to bed m’love.”

~two~

“hey babe!”

jude looks up from his ipad upon hearing your voice through the phone. he was in germany for match and of course, he asked you to go with him. saying something along the lines of being his good luck charm. you couldn’t originally get the off time from your job.

“i miss you so much.”

“jude, baby you’ve been gone for like two days.”

“and your point is?”

“okay, whatever you say. anyways, i got a package for ya! just open the door.”

the boy failed to realize how close your face was in the camera and how you whispered. you had surprised him by coming to germany, being that your boss changed her mind and let you go. it wasn’t like you asked for off time a lot anyways.

“what?”

“can you open the door baby?”

jude jumps off the bed and practically leaps to the door. swinging it open to find you with a toothy smile. he rushes to hug you, bending down to your hight and pulling you into his arms.

“you said you couldn’t come!”

“surprise! my boss decided to let me take the time off last minute. i found the first flight here.”

“how’d you get to the hotel? i would’ve picked you up.”

“it wouldn’t have been a surprise then.”

he detaches himself from you to grab your bag, then grabbing your hand, walking you inside. you take a seat on the couch that was sitting in the room and smiled as your boyfriend put your bag next to his.

“i can’t believe you’re here.”

“well believe it,” jude sat next to you and began pressing kisses into whatever inch of skin he could get to.

“babe relax,” you say, in between giggles as he continued his work down to your neck. only getting off you when you pushed his shoulder back.

“i just missed you.”

“it’s been two days!”

“so what.”

~three~

you’ve become familiar with jude being your passenger princess. you never minded, it was just nice having someone to drive with. so, you took him on another one of your side quests. thrifting.

“i hope i find something good this time. last time we went, it was a bunch of bullshit.”

“i’m kinda hoping i see something i like,” you gasp into response to him, quickly looking at him and then looking back at the road.

“woah, thee jude bellingham is interested in thrifting?”

“oh come off it.”

“i’m just saying! i literally never heard you say anything like that. just making sure my ears heard correctly,” you give him a teasing smile.

“i will jump into oncoming traffic.”

“no you won’t.”

“i swear i will.”

“i’m calling your bluff.”

the silence in the car became loud as you both tested one another.

“no i won’t.”

“ha! i knew it.”

“whatever, drive faster loser. all the good stuff are gonna be gone.”

~four~

you wake up finding the bed empty. jude’s side is made up, totally not uncommon. you figured he was at training and got out of bed to get something to eat. as you walked to the kitchen, you find your boyfriend with his bare back towards you.

“good morning darling,” he turns his head to face you with a small smile.

“good morning. what’s all this?”

“i wanted to cook for you! training was canceled today because of a family emergency. i was gonna surprise you in bed but of course you had to wake up early.”

“that’s very sweet of you,” you make your way towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. pressing your front into his back, hugging him as tight as you could. you leaned up to kiss the back of his shoulder blade before stepping away.

“let’s spend the day inside.”

“are you sure jude? i know today is my off day but you don’t have to stay in with me.”

“i want to.”

jude plates the food and sits it on the dining room table. you follow close behind and go to grab your chair. instead, jude pulls out your chair for you. pushing you in before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. sitting down next to you, you both began to eat. a comfortable silence fills the room as you both ate. his free hand resting on your thigh, caressing the skin beneath his fingers.

“i love you so much. thank you for this.”

“you shouldn’t have to thank me. i’m your boyfriend, it’s a job of mine to make sure you’re feeling loved at all times.”

“trust me, i feel all the love right now.”

“it still wouldn’t be enough to express how much i truly am in love with you darling.”

“don’t get sappy on me bellingham,” you teased, watching his face attempt to hide a smile.

“oh we wouldn’t want that,” he plays along and kisses your cheek, making you both laugh in the process.

[strunger]

FREE USE WHORE! ♡

synopsis . a free use whore in the office for hire?

ft . jjk (gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso, & sukuna)

tw . free use (obviously) , size kink , consensual dub-con? , overstimulation , degradation , legit filth , fingering, squirting , uh rough sex? , deepthroat/blowjob , big boobs (jjk) , unrealistic job stuff , fear play (choso) , spit mention (choso) , weird geto lol

note . this is NOT for 100% dominant woman, your feelings might get hurt! i got a hand cramp writing this wtf!! idk if you can tell this is free use but that’s what it was intended for. happy reading, weirdos.

JJK most of them show up on the job sexually frustrated because of how much work is put upon their shoulders so when the office starts hiring pornstars for that specific problem — their dicks start jumping inside their slacks. and you, a broke woman, finds this out — you jump on! (their dicks)

sukuna is definitely the roughest out of all the other men. he may not have the highest sex drive (but it’s super high icl) but he dicks you down every-time he can. sometimes he fucks you too long to the point he forgets about his work and you have to be banned from walking to his cubicle for a set amount of time til he finishes everything. and after that… oh boy does he fucks you mad.

“f-fuck!” he pants through gritted teeth when his thick, angry cock finally gets to be plunged in your warm pussy. he’s been waiting too long for this, stupid job didn’t allow his pussy to get near him til he was done with his assignments. “kuna! w-wait! s’too sensitive!” you wail when he pushes your face on the desk, your cries fall on deaf ears because he keeps fucking going. it hurts when he drills his dick into your gummy walls but it still feels so good you can’t help but whimper for more. but it’s too good you start trying to push him away but when you’re bent over a desk with a head being squished on a desk, it’s hard. plus, he’s so much bigger, so much stronger than you, it’s absolutely pointless. he notices this and starts laughing while grunting. “the fuck are you tryin’ to do? aren’t ‘ya supposed to be a free use whore?” he says when he gets fed up with your pathetic movements, grabbing both your arms and crushing them with only one hand. great, now you’re restrained and can’t do anything now. you’ll have to endure this pleasurable torture until he’s done with you. maybe one day he’ll quit this stupid job and make you quit as well.

satoru is the one with the highest sex drive. but what sets him apart from his coworker, sukuna, he’s able to get things done while also satisfying his needs. how? making you suck him off under the table while he’s trying his best to keep it down!

“hmp-! angel! fuckk…” your mouth was deadly to him. it was warm and soft just how your pussy feels but the thought of you looking at him with doe eyes while literally sucking his soul from his dick turned him on too much. but he couldn’t get distracted just yet, he still had a job to do. so while you were busy wrapping your tongue around his cock, his phone rings and with the amount of noise he’s restraining, he’d probably just ignore but a business part is on the other side so he’s obligated to pick up. “hello.. uhhg… sir fushiguro!” he says loudly to his phone. while he’s doing that, you’re thinking of the times he’s been mean to you. obviously not as mean as sukuna but mean enough to hurt your feelings. you decide to make him pay for his little stunts. sure, you could keep using only your mouth but a big boy such as him could handle it, so why not add your hands? maybe be his own personal sex toy. your hand snakes up his thigh and wraps tightly around the base of his cock, earning a deathly glare from him, begging you not to do what you’re about to do. it makes you wanna do it even more. you stack your other hand on top and start twisting them in opposite directions, successfully earning a whole moan from him. “agh-!” he clears his throat “sorry i spilt water on myself. mind if i call you back?” he hung up. shit — he grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you to take his full length into your mouth. it hit the back of your throat and you gagged. “don’t do that..”

suguru, he wasn’t a stoic man. not really, but he gave you the heebie jeebies. he barely even fucked you with his cock. but that’s okay, his finger game is fire.

you’re being sprawled out on his lap, legs lazily draping over his own. he’s writing with his right hand while his other dangerously roams around your most sensitive parts. he fiddles with your erect nipples like they’re.. fidget toys..? whatever. but now he’s crawling closer to the waist band of your trousers. he caresses his arms back and forth on your womb before he dips his whole hand inside, practically cupping your sweet pussy with his large hand. the warmth of your lower area was disrupted by his impossible cold hand, you shivered. he never stops scribbling on that stupid notebook, even when he massaging your pretty clit. “more..” you need more. he gives you more. without warning, he adds two fingers into your dripping cunt, making you gasp in pleasure. he starts pumping them vigorously, the palm of his hand scissoring your cunt. your knees felt weak from the action. immense pleasure rippling in you. “hagh! please!” squelching noises could be heard because at this point, you feel like you just pissed yourself. no you didn’t, you squirted. it stained your grey trousers. “did you just squirt?” he asks, finally stopping to look at your soaked half. you embarrassingly nodded, trying to hide your face from him but he squishes your face in place to look at him. “no. don’t look away, you’re a whore. it’s okay, that’s what you do.” he says with the littlest bit of empathy before he starts fingering you again. wow, back to scribbling you thought. wait. what the fuck. he wasn’t even hard yet.

choso, finally. the office’s new hire! he’s just so cute. he’s even cuter when all his coworkers introduce you, the free use whore. you’re dressed up all cute, tits literally spilling out of your tight tank top. standing in the middle of all the men, smiling directly at him with lustful eyes.

after that night, whenever you pass by his cubicle, he drags you in. he’s gotten used to this whole free use thing. he takes up the overnight shift which also forces you to stay that long with him. and that’s exactly why he picks it, even when he has nothing left to do. he was a pathetic vigrin when you first met him but now, he is a full fledged freak. he has a game where you turn off all the light in the office and hide. if he finds you, he fucks you while you’re still scared from his jumpscare. you can hear heavy breathing coming around you but you can’t see anything or sense anything. your eyes begin darting across your hiding spot — choso’s cubicle. a scream in-front of your face jolts your up, making you scream. you can feel warm wet tears bubbling from your eyes. “aw, did i actually scare you?” his deep voice chuckles while he lifts you up and places you face up on his desk. you’re still crying and sniffling when he pulls your skirt away along with your cute lacy underwear. your hands come up to cover your face because you feel humiliated. “was it that bad?” he asked but you didn’t respond. he sighs when he levels his face with your cunt. his finger come in to play with your clit, he spreads your folds open and massages it. you don’t give in and continue crying. that’s when he starts licking it. strong, fast flicks of his tongue toy with your clit turn to slow, languid strokes that cover your whole pussy in his spit. which ends in him slipping his tongue in but when that fails, he brings in the big guns. his big dick. he starts thrusting into you, trying to somehow get a noise out of you but you’re so stubborn right now. he wraps you into a tight hug while still fucking you. that’s when you break. moans mixed with cries start coming out. this was somewhat oddly comforting? “there she is.” he says kissing you. he’s a nice, fucked up man that knows how to get you fucked. you just hope to get a better hiding spot.

[uc1wa]

xi hear me out. Taking Dick’s vcard like he’s super curious so he goes to you to ask for help n u r single handedly the catalyst that launches him into being a fratboy in college bc he wants to have sex that good again— so normal over this idea

and the crowd goes fucking crazy for cressie

tags: fem reader, virgin uni!dick, then... frat boy!dick lol, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex, pussy sniffin’ (for 2 seconds), fuckin' n fuckin' n fuckin', this became way longer than i intended... enjoy!

"are you ready?"

both of your hands hold dick’s shoulders, your knees holding your form up, the warmth of his cock hitting your bare entrance. weary and wide blue eyes watch you, looking up to yours as he nods. "please, please, can’t wait anymore," he begins in a whine, quickly recovering and adjusting his voice to a more even one.

did you ever think that your childhood best friend who went off to uni would be ringing you the week he got home for summer break? of course.

did you expect him to timidly ask you how to fuck during that phone call? never in a million years.

see, dick grayson’s first year of university was full of studying, staying in his dorm, and acing every exam. he went to school a good boy, and wasn’t tempted by parties, clubbing, or the mere idea to get a fake id. the last thing he cared about was girls, wanting nothing more than to make the dean's list.

he was a good boy, but that only went so far. dick realized at some point or another (specifically, when wally had a video called him telling about this girl he was fucking, dick was just slightly jealous) he had to lose his virginity. he wasn’t thirsty for pussy. he knew how to get himself off, but when measuring if he should hookup with a random from campus or you, the answer came easy.

a week into his summer break and he’d brought takeout to your place, the house he’d grown up going to. and when all was said and done, and you’d led him with a hand to your room, his cock was already hard in his pants.

but you didn’t rush, you taught him a woman’s pleasure before you’d decided to ride him. you helped him prepare yourself, his fingers exploring what was your entrance. calloused fingers rubbing and catching the feel of your most sensitive parts, memorizing the face you made when he experimentally curled his fingers. measuring how much pleasure stimulation on your clit gave you. and, as any good boy would, did exactly what elicited moans from you with his fingers alone.

and when you’d felt yourself ready, you decided riding him was the safest option. allowing him time to get adjusted to your hole and finding a slow pace that would make the both of you comfortable.

sinking down onto his length, you watched the way his eyes closed, black waves falling back as his neck fell backward. you felt so much better than his fist.

"ya-ya alright?" you ask, inching down until the man’s full length sits tightly inside of you, checking in with the man before you. and he nods, hands finding the fat of your hips as he begins attempting to lift you.

"p-please, jesus christ, need you to fuckin’ move," he moans, eyes meeting yours once more. without a single thrust, without a full ‘fuck’ yet, dick found himself pussy drunk over you.

the feeling of your sweetness surrounding him was something he could get a high off of, addiction setting in. but when you helped him lift your ass off of his thighs, he moaned your name and it was as sweet as honey the way it hit your ears.

"be nice," you fake-warn with a laugh, finding a small rhythm to fuck his length to, not missing the way dick’s eyes roam your body. from the way your tits bounced with every thrust, your lips that remained parted and the whines you executed, and the way your thighs spread atop his every time you brought yourself down.

dick thanked himself that he asked you to take his virginity. his sweet best friend fucking him like it was her job… could he find himself in a better situation?

the answer was easily yes. because, though dick grayson was a strong man, happy trail littering a strong abdomen and biceps and triceps that flexed every time he brought you down onto his cock, he was still a virgin.

so, when a loud and porn-worthy moan fell between his lips and you felt his cock twitch deep inside of you, you couldn’t blame the man.

red flushed his cheeks as he looked up to you, who found rest against his thighs, hands once more finding place on his shoulders. "fuck, sorry, you’re just… have thought about fucking you since forever," he wasn’t lying, and you slipped a hand to cradle his face.

"hey, you lasted longer than my ex," you remind with a laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, allowing him to come down from his high comfortably.

and every other booty call he gave you that summer was followed by apologies, the food he grabbed from a takeout restaurant, and a mind-blowing fuck.

so, it was only instinct that when he found himself on campus again, he had to find a replacement for you. though, hard, because nobody was you, he was more encouraged to go out. finding himself at a different frat party every other friday, finding a new girl to take to his apartment.

even with his imagination running wild, eyes closed as he attempted to imagine that every pussy was yours. that every ass was yours when he groped it. that every girl was you, he failed every time. nobody fucked him like you did, but that didn’t discourage him.

at the end of the day… he still liked fucking.

and with every frat party in his sophomore year of college, came with ideas of recruitment. flyers filled with infographics thrown at him and greek letters surrounding him.

wally liked his frat, talks of brotherhood and free booze. he wore his letters with pride, and it seemed that every house on campus wanted dick.

for good reason, too. who doesn’t want a tall, ripped, smart stud in their frat? can you imagine the bitches dick pulls from that alone?

and even when he gained his greek letters, found a new girl to fuck every day of the weekend, and consumed enough alcohol to grow his tolerance double from the time he entered his university, thanksgiving break comes around… and it comes around fast.

"hey," dick grayson, new recruit from his frat, says as he’s headed home for the week-long break. a few quick hours and he’s headed into the hometown you'd both grown up in.

"hey, dick," you say from the other line, sitting in your bed, already home for the time being.

"you free anytime this week? ‘m headed home now, will probably be there in the next hour," he says, and you notice a change in his voice. the man who was your best friend had a suaveness in his tone. a sultry seductiveness that you’d never heard leave his lips in all ten years of knowing him.

it’s hard to deny the fact that it made you want him to come to your house before he had the chance to drop his bags off, but... you weren't desperate.

"yeah, i’ve got a few free days," you reply and dick chuckles on the other line.

"hm, doin’ anything tonight?"

dick grayson, home for the holidays with a trunk full of comfortable winter clothes and coats, wasn’t a fucking animal. he went to his house, unloaded his trunk, and grabbed a bite to eat. greeted his adoptive father while a chunk of steak made its way down his throat and he stumbled to slide a pair of easy shoes on.

but, he also wasn’t going to deprive himself of you when he could only imagine you in your bed on the phone with him. when he visualized the way your legs looked in pajama shorts that he’d plan to slide to the side, a tank top that your nipples would poke out of.

oh god, in the few months away, he had matured; took him work to get hard. but when it came to you? the second you opened the door, his hands were holding you in all the places you’d missed him (after seeing your car was the only one in the driveway, of course).

"missed you," he breathed out in your mouth. mint mixed with some chocolate protein shake was all you could taste on his tongue. his mouth moved against yours skillfully, lips moving in a sloppy yet patterned way that had his tongue lapping up every taste of your saliva like a hungry dog.

you laugh, hands wrapping around his neck, pushing scruffy curls out of the way. longer hair than he usually sported, but fuck, did he make it look good. "missed me? or missed fucking me?" you correct, dick’s lips still pressed to yours as one hand knots itself in the back of your hair, his other hand following his brain waves.

the door? no, you deserved more than to be fucked against the hardwood of a fucking door. the couch? he debated falling to his knees while you stood leaning against the wall behind you, tongue salivating at the thought of tasting your sweetness again.

oh, your taste.

his legs made their mind up for him, quads spreading underneath black joggers as his knees hit the ground a little too rough. if you weren’t in a daze of him you’d cringe at the sound of him hitting the floor beneath him. instead, wide eyes looked down at him, finally taking a full look at the man.

maybe you were reminiscent of the first time you were with the man. when you were the one held by your knees as he stared at you with wide eyes. but, there was nothing curious nor naive held in his current gaze. his gaze that, even while on the lower level that his knees brought him, made you feel like prey to a wolf.

wavy and shiny black hair fell just short of his shoulders, some sort of a mullet that suited him in a way you couldn’t explain. the three greek letters of his newfound frat stitched into the navy crewneck that held a ring around his neck. adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows the almost embarrassing build-up of saliva in his mouth.

"not here," you warn.

"yes here."

"dick, come to my fuckin-" you’re cut off by him leaning forward, nose hitting the spot where your own thighs met. skimpy shorts and underwear covering what he wanted most. and like a dog in damned heat, dick takes a long and deep smell of your womanhood, one that makes your hand fly to his hair and a groan leave the depths of his throat.

"are you fucking with me?" and dick chuckles. "you have no idea how much i missed your fuckin’ pussy. fucked a lot of girls this semester and none come close to you."

the sentence makes you cringe. if the man below you was attempting a seduction technique, he was failing miserably. "i don’t wanna hear about your other girlfriends when you have your face in me," another chuckle.

"want me to tell you what i think about when i jerk off?"

another cringe.

"no, you fucking freak," you groan while pulling at the hem of your shorts. dick is quick to help you, fingertips dipping under your underwear in the same movement, allowing them to fall in a pool around your ankles.

"think about fuckin' this pretty pussy," he starts, index finger finding your slit and collecting the wetness on it. "i think about being in this pussy, i think about licking you up and fucking all my cum in you," with every word his lips come closer.

with a lick of his upper lip, a rough hand falls underneath your thigh. guiding you to rest your leg over his shoulder, thick muscle holding you up as you let him maneuver your body. any means to get him to shut the fuck up.

his nose brushes against your womanhood, another deep inhale. "you got me whipped," dick laughs, moving forward while he sticks his tongue out. laying it flat while his fingers help to spread the lips of your entrance. and as soon as he sees the way you instinctively move the muscles that control your entrance, he just knows he has a wet patch of pre leaking from his cockhead.

"shut up," you say, words flowing easily until you inhale sharply when the flat of his tongue falls on your clit. it's hard to hold yourself up, and given the circumstances, you can only be half thankful that the man below you has graced you with muscles that held your partially standing form.

dick grayson, your childhood best friend who-just a few months ago had asked you to take his virginity-was clearly no longer a virgin. without knowing much other than what he's explicitly told you since he's walked inside your home, he has become a womanizer of sorts. a womanizer whose sweet spot was none other than you. because none of the girls he fucked were woman in the way you were.

your eyes peer down, and you're unsure if you're enjoying dick's tongue to the extent that he's giving you himself right now. his blue eyes closed and throat groaning as his mouth moves in ways that have your knees buckling and mouth falling agape. "h-holy fuck," you moan, and dick finds approval in that, palms gripping your soft flesh until one moves to begin playing with your entrance.

no consideration for teasing as the wetness of your core has his cock twitch in his joggers. he needs you, and he doesn't care if it's more than you do him.

though, based on the slick that's dripping from your pussy down his calloused fingers, it's hard to differentiate.

"missed me too, huh?" he asks, lips moving and humming against your sensitive clit, middle and ring finger gliding their way into your entrance with ease. "c'mon... tell me you think about me too," dick groans, too eager to allow you time to adjust to the lengths of his digits filling your hole. instead, finding a pace while he kisses your clit, eyes looking up and meeting yours.

"fuck... yeah, i think 'bout you," you begin, a hand finding his dark waves and tightening into a fist while the other attempts to hold yourself up against the painted wall you supported yourself against. "always think about how pretty ya looked," you moan with a small laugh, and dick meets your laugh, though his fingers never halt.

a small glint of appreciation can be read across his face as he admires yours. admires the hair that's beginning to stick to your face and your lips that are slowly swelling from the pressure of your teeth biting down on them.

"'m not gonna look pretty tonight," he says, the pace of his fingers slowing as he finds a scissoring motion that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. with the help of his head, you straighten yourself once again, regaining composure as you repeat the words he said in your head.

"huh?" you question, and dick smirks something wicked.

"you took the reigns last time, 'm gonna fuck you all up tonight."

and dick grayson, no longer a virgin, no longer a pussy-less nerd, proved himself by staking claim on yours. because, even though he claimed he wouldn't look pretty for you tonight, the way he did when you rode him and introduced him to the world of sex, with sweat dripping off his forehead and onto yours, cum filling your pussy, and fucking you in every position he could think of, he looked ethereal.

dick grayson did as he said he'd do. he fucked you up for the rest of the break. he had you calling him for late-night dick appointments and had you slobbering on his cock just the way he had intended you to. dick had corrupted you in a way you'd never been before; finding yourself sitting and waiting for his call when summer would eventually roll through.

[fandomfloozy]

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my partner," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

[phyrestartr]

Those Ghosts We Cannot Burn | Dabi x M!Reader

w/c: 1k cw: past trauma, canon-typical Todoroki family, mentions of child abuse, canon-typical violence, graphic language, difficult relationships #Eventual NSFW, bl, dunno who is top/bottom yet lol, hurt/comfort, angst, drama, reader is yakuza, reader and dabi have history, sorta enemies to lovers?? Notes: AAAAH short little snippet but I wanted to post anyway!! I need to get drafts out of my system or I'll go mad lmao...they're all just clogging up my google docs...it's so bad dude OTL so many WIPs

(ALL tags): @kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

1. Hello, My Past

The bodies of his victims hissed and burned with a life only fire could leave in the path of destruction. Dabi knew it well–he was made the same way, after all. But they'd go on to simply disappear, their ashes fluttering away with the Autumn breeze while he continued to conquer his fate. 

“Hey, you're the one they call ‘Dabi,’ right?” 

The man in question paused, ears perking at that shitty, monotonous tone. Hah. It pissed him off. It made his heart hum, too. Weird.

“Who's askin'?” He drawled, tucking his hands in his pockets as he turned to face you with languid steps. When he caught sight of you in that alleyway, he almost remembered something, but couldn’t find the will to dwell on it.

“I am, on behalf of Shie Hassaikai,” you said, adjusting the cuffs of your jacket. “You've been torching our men, y’know?”

Dabi smiled. “And? You want an autograph or somethin’?” 

You quirked a brow, looked him up and down, and scoffed. “You got a pen? Or, even know how to write in the first place? Don’t look the type.” 

“Oi–”

“Anyway,” you continued, “You wouldn’t be willing to stop murdering ours while our respective leaders discuss their deal, hey?” 

Dabi clicked his tongue. Annoying. “Their deal's got nothing to do with me.” 

“Guess you're not as high up as they said, then.”

“You're a real pain in the ass, y'know?” 

“It's kinda my job.”

“Maybe someone should relieve you from duty.”

A torrent of blue bloomed and crashed through the alley with the vicious hunger of a tsunami. Sparks exploded and flames lashed against stone and concrete, engulfing sky, earth, and all in-between with his show of firepower–a show he never grew tired of, one that never failed to remind him just what he lived for, what he–wait.

He squinted. What the hell?

A bright silhouette stood in the centre of the violent cleansing, wholly unmoved by the villain's flame. It wavered like a candle tousled by the night breeze, but it did not fade away with the light, nor with the wane of fire. And in the aftermath, once the alley fell quiet and dim once again, there it still stood, staring his way with a light that might rival a god's true form.

“You done?” You asked, voice crackling through a veil of blue. 

Thousands of questions and thoughts rushed through his mind–what the hell was that? Who were you? What was your quirk? Why was your fire blue, too?--but he couldn't settle on one, not long enough to spit it out, anyway. 

“I'll consider that a yes,” you decided. Your form re-materialized with a small flourish embers, and you breathed in deep. 

Dabi tried not to let on how bothered he felt. “What the hell was that quirk?” 

“Does it really matter?” You hummed, smiling. “The only thing you need to know is what you just saw–you can't get rid of me. Not with those flames of yours.”

“Hah. You sure about that, pretty boy?” His fingers twitched, eager to try his hand again. “I could crank the heat up for ya, see just how much you can handle.”

“Maybe another time,” you said, half-distracted as you checked your phone. “For now, remember what I said. Our bosses are trying to work together. Don't make this difficult.”

You turned halfway through your thought, showing Dabi your back without a care in the world. You must've really thought you couldn't be hurt by him. You must have really thought you were better than him. You must have. 

But the sirens roaring toward the alley ruined his chance at demolishing you. He could take them on, but he'd rather not deal with the headache that'd follow–heaven knows he'd get reemed by some of the other villains for taking the PR crap too far. 

Fucking prick, Dabi seethed silently. He'd have to kill you some other day. 

–

“Touya,” you called, voice quiet.

The boy next to you, the one you squished into that single bed with whenever nightmares found him, stirred. Only your voice seemed to pull him free from the lull of dreams and nightmares, oddly. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, clearing his throat, grimacing again at the scratchy stiffness to it. 

“Once the doc helps you,” you started, sounding too serious for your age, “I think we should leave.” 

“What?” Touya rubbed sleep from his eyes the best he could without tearing stitches and skin grafts apart. “What the hell is–”

Whatever else he had to say died in his throat when he caught a glimpse of you in the filtered moonlight; your calm, passive look of day had shifted come the night. Your face was kinder, exposing flickers of forbidden thoughts for none but one to see and soon forget, come the beckon of sleep. 

“What the hell's your problem?” Touya breathed. 

Your brows furrowed. “I don't want to be here,” you answered. “Have you even considered trying to go to your family? We could–” 

“I did go back. Nothing's changed.” He smiled, bitter. “Those fucking sheep abandoned me already.”

“I won't abandon you,” you promised suddenly. “We can talk to them. Together. Come on, Touya–” 

Touya laughed a pathetic, little sound. “Are you serious? They don't give a shit about me, they're not gonna give a shit about–do you think you're better than me? More special?” 

Your eyes grew round. “Wh–I never said that.” 

“But you think they'd listen to you, and not me,” he hissed, something igniting the hollow paths of his nerves and revving him back to life. “You think I'm not–”

You covered his mouth with a quick hand, and he held your wrist with a weak grip. “Shut up. You don't know what I think, so–so just shut up.”

I know what you think. And he was determined to prove you wrong, one way or another, even if he had to rip himself apart to do it--but you saw through him so easily. You always did; you always knew how to push his buttons then reset the system before he blew up.

And when you leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, the one still clasped over his mouth, he did indeed reset. Completely braindead once again, he was.

“Forget I said anything,” you huffed, turning your back to him and settling back in. 

And Touya tried to forget, even though his mind buzzed and his heart thudded against his ribs. He tried, and he tried, and he tried.

[court-jobi]

hi! i love your works so much!!! i was wondering if i could request a hawks x pop princess f! reader?

like he does security for her groups concert and hes like “pffft im number 2 why do i need to be here”. then he watches her during sound check and is like okay i need to know more about her. so while shes getting ready hes just hovering backstage trying to talk to her. after the show she finally gives him her number (def against her companies wishes) and hes like trying to be suave and flirty and shes like “oh my god why is this working”. just a lot of hawks being a lover boy and sending gifts to her company anonymously and cutesy stuff like that lol. they have to keep their relationship a secret bc her company has a very strict no dating unless we agree rule. can be pre or post war hawks btw! you can take this wherever you want with it as well! can be nsfw or not.

im sorry that was so long! i was trying to make sure my thoughts were coherent lol.

Ooooo I love this idea so much, what a lovely dynamic to picture: a fanboy Hawks for a change, perhaps?? ~ this was a fun one to work on! @strwbrrykthv i sure hope this one was worth the wait and that I've done it justice!

You all are seriously the best readers a gal could ask for, and these requests are ✨giving me life✨~ Keep 'em coming!!

Who Has the Mic

Words: 4.3k

Rating: T

Warnings: Pro Hero!Hawks x popstar fem!reader, forbidden romance, flirting, mostly FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical threats, protective instincts, Hawks is a little shitTM, we love him your honor

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

Read on Ao3

Hawks falls prey to a special thrill out of extending favors to others. 

‘I owe ya one’-- such a simple nicety that in the beginning, he doubts anyone would truly come to collect on it. It makes him sound agreeable, charming, starved for connection even before the height of his inevitable fame. 

Then he rose and rose in the hero rankings, securing himself into the very visible and wildly popular top spot, in terms of viewer popularity. 

It’s now that the redemptions of Hawks’ pro-hero favors have come rolling in… The unexpected keeps him on his toes and entertains him for the most part; and if it’s all for the sake of protecting others, then why not have a little fun with it? 

Once upon an overbearing press conference, back when he was first tiptoeing into the public scene… Hawks begged a makeup artist on staff for a spot to hide out in the green room and sneak a snack or two (or ten). He was granted pity for a teenager expected to take a seat at the table of an albeit boring Commission presentation. Well, it seems that particular makeup-artist rose within the talent realm themselves, and ended up reaching out to “that flyboy kid” back for a surprising accommodation: 

Top tier talent warrants top tier security.

Hawks takes a call at his agency and soon finds himself ushered in for the Tokyo opener of the reigning top-of-the-charts pop star with a voice of gold. The first meeting of old acquaintances led the Pro-Hero to tour the brand new, sky-high facilities, then return for the load-in day of the stage. Again for first dress, and each night of the week-long residency.

He carries his presence on the stealthier side, far above the stage floor in the scaffolding. Up here, lights are rigged with steel supports running every which way, where he executes perfect balance while walking in a straight line atop them. He’s checked -double and triple- that each outlet is free from hazard, each line of multi-ton equipment has been secured and safe, so that even his ‘adventuring’ from up high is not a risk.

He’s happy for the variety of work he faces as a hero- but right now, he’s bored. He shouldn't be feeling so dreadful, especially on the job, but he is. It’s not his style to be so down, after all. But Hawks has checked into every nook and cranny of this place and for the sake of an understandably hypervigilant security team, has an eye for which points of entry and exit could use a bird’s eye view come showtime.

His muscles are used to far more fast-paced antics and time-sensitive chases; not traipsing around like a literal vulture ready to swoop in at any moment. Surely he’s needed elsewhere.

But the threats have been rolling in… as they do for all of these larger-than-life musician types who found their way into the spotlight. They’re at risk of going in blind if they don’t have a good team around them to help them see.

So here he is, playing guardian angel to do his part and make sure all goes smoothly. It's a big operation by his count; there’s sixty members on the tech roster, plus the venue stage manager and their contracted staff, then all performers, and of course the headliner. Now where she is, he’d like to know– for not so selfless reasons.

He’d know her music by heart, given how much of an earworm and personal anthem her songs have become for him. It’s rare that the tables are turned, where Hawks is the fanboy and someone else is the idol. That dream is his dangling carrot for completing this mission successfully: he has the most sought-after bodyguard duty in the nation, and as good as a front row seat to her show.

Yet in a weird sense, Hawks also kinda hopes he never meets her. Doesn’t want to crush that bubble, ruin the allusion of the woman he’s got set as his ringtone.

So, he just runs his headcounts on all bodies supposed to be present at the top-of-show meeting to busy his mind. All is in order. ‘Cues’ are rounding up the pre-show acts, each in plainclothes for this rough stumble-through. Still doesn’t see the little starlet yet, and he gets the residual feeling that this might be typical behavior of ‘the talent’ to show up whenever she damn well pleases. 

Though funnily enough, he spots a pretty thing down there sporting some Hawks merch! Always nice to see a supportive fan in the most unlikely places… 

It's a well-fitting quarterzip sporting his red feather blades down each arm, an item he vaguely recognizes from this season’s newest launch. She’s got headphones on and subtly bopping about in her own little world, perhaps running through tonight’s set under her breath, if her self-contained taps of the fingers are an indication of her keeping beat. 

Hawks’ curious attention to that girl on the fringes of the stage is pulled when he hears the strict timbre of the stage director he’d met on day one take center stage.

“Ok, time to rein it in. As we covered in the email from Sec-Eng- which I’m assuming you gen-z’ers have read,” the bossman snarks to the younger members of this crew down below, “we’ve got some additional eyes in the sky pulling security for this leg in the tour. So, I want to give you all a chance to get your excitement out -along with your thanks- to our equally chart-topping hero, Hawks~ who’s… somewhere around here.”

Hoodie girl blanched– as if she’d been told she’d need to share her internet history to her grandmother. Immediately, she tosses off her headset and starts frantically stripping herself of the jacket she wore. While enthusiastic heads all fly around in every direction in search of the hero, Hawks chuckles at the sight of her alone. 

“...//Well, he’s probably checking the perimeters anyway//. How bout we all just send a big thank-you, eh?”

The couple of ‘Hoodie’s fellow dancers were poking fun at her -poor thing still flushed and clammed up- while the group gave a loud, singsongy ‘thank you!!’ up to the stage doors, assuming the Pro-Hero might be busting in, grand entrance fashion on command. The love-laden response from the dancers makes Hawks roll his eyes lightly, but he appreciates their praise all the same.

They giggle about in jazzed excitement with one’s voice carried out squealish and feminine, despite their professional assembly,

“Oh my god, you must be in HEAVEN!! He’s gonna be watching you ALL NIGHT!”

‘Hoodie’ looks downright mortified. The others have seemed to gather around spouting nothing but encouragement to this little fan girl who's doing her best to put on a poker face. Adorable. 

“Now we also need to make some edits before the crew breaks for lunch, everyone, so we are gonna start today with opening of Set 5 instead- hold.. Hold on… WHO HAS THE GOD MIC??”

The mics table scrambles for the one handheld microphone with omniscient audio range to the house. Surely it's the one thing they wouldn't lose and should hand straight to the Stage Manager, right? 

Well, said mic was sitting unattended there on the cart earlier… all for the Winged Hero’s taking when he was making his preliminary sweep earlier. 

From his inner jacket pocket, Hawks catches his lip in his teeth as he remembers where to turn the thing on. Once his throat cleared and the mic blinks red in sync with the soundboard, he amplifies a little trademark bird whistle: for each and every soul in sight to hear. 

The stage erupts in excitement, as planned. ‘Hoodie’ immediately teeters over to one of the props hideaways and stows said jacket away. 

Hawks chuckles with the mic at chest level– only to call her out from his perch,

“Saw that, dear~”

Seems logic caught up with the poor thing, as she -finally- pieced together the true vantage point of her idol’s presence, and looked up. 

Sparing her too much embarrassment, Hawks simply cocked his head on a folded up fist and gave a little wave of some fingers to her. 

Despite her clear shock and surprise, she did smile brilliantly back and gave a little signed ‘thank you for being here’ rather than a scream like all the others.

The stage manager followed her line of sight to where the hero stands in wait, ready to dismount and return his bit of cheekily stolen equipment. Despite some bewildered aggravation to Hawks’ antics, he gestures with the exhaustion of a high school teacher.

“There now, see kids? That's how you protect your voices before a show!! Better than belting your way to the doctor’s office. Our star here sure leads by example now doesn't she–” 

In rare form for the hero, it's Hawks’ turn to be stunned. His fangirl: it’s you.

Everyone else may be calling that first call time your lucky day… but you were intimidated to the point of feeling ill. Thank goodness for your poker face; because locking eyes with Hawks’ stunning crimson canopy and giving you that wink and a grin about sent you into a heart attack. 

You're starstruck. The absolute heartthrob of an idol you revere as your favorite Pro-Hero has been standing over 150 meters above your head, watching for every sign of danger that could threaten you for the last week. 

That near guarantee of safety would trump your fleeting nerves– if you hadn’t given the first impression of a closeted fangirl like you did!!

Nothing short of awe crossed your mind when you so much as think of the hero. A very vocal fan whenever he came up in the news or your social feed amongst your inner circle. Hawks is a household name for you, who you were incredibly fond of… both in how he handled massive crowds or charmed in intimate, one-on-one interviews. 

You know the role; you suck up for cameras, too, as it's all in the optics. But for every PR-guided response you know is crafted by easy-going smiles or a disarming tone, you remember to see past the spectacle of Hawks and look for ‘him’. Remove the wings and hero getup: who is he? Can you spot the tells on camera like your mom can when she watches you? No matter how big of a global phenomenon her baby girl gets, she can still tell when you have a headache while having to give an appearance on a talk show. 

The man you spot on screen has to have a series of faults and slips. Even battle-ready heroes put their shoes on one at a time– just like everyone else. He’s sure to have a favorite lunch spot, a favorite pen to use for autographs, a favorite singer, even… 

Surely not you, but a girl can dream.

There’s a glazed-over glint in Hawks’ eyes when he very subtly checks out when being spoken to which gives you the strong suspicion you two may not be so unalike. And that list of little mannerisms has grown exponentially– with every day that's passed:

Hawks has difficulty staying still, you've learned. He’s also much younger than people assume. Carries a crafty habit of popping up unexpectedly in a way that’s youthful– and borderline cheeky. From atop a stack of amps, to a crowdless green room, to the rigging of lights where you've stunned the crowds for the last four nights, he’s perched out of sight from your thousands of fans. 

Though each little comment thrown here and there in praise has floated down to your ears in sweet jest, things come to a head when the last night of your show arrived: where the crushing realization sought to dampen your mood. 

After tonight, you wouldn’t have your angelic, crimson-winged shadow anymore. 

But Hawks surprises you once again. 

You nearly miss it, too, once your final round of ‘surprise songs’ is revealed and you are snuck down to your assigned hideout to get ready to leave the venue. It’s back in your can-lit dressing room that you’re making double takes down the hall looking for any sign of your security team; especially the one to whom you owe a hefty ‘thank you’ to for all his efforts.

-but as your half-redressed form has donned your beloved Hawks hoodie once more, you’re not so spooked to hear a familiar whistle from behind you this time.

Headphones slung back down around his neck and wings slimmed down to a more presentable manner for tight hallways like these, Hawks slips into your prep space with a speedy uptick of steps. A knowing whisper to ‘shut the door fast so no one notices’ eeks out of him, eliciting a smile from you.

Each one of your suspicions are confirmed with that one comment alone; he knows this game well. Still, playing along with his dance of keep-away from any prying eyes (or cameras) doesn’t mean your heart isn’t  hammering away in your chest at the knowledge of getting your hero all to yourself.

So here, Hawks traipses around your makeshift room with unbidden interest– which, for such a small space, is cute to know how many little details pique his curiosity. Your various outfits still hang all facing the correct way, your personal backpack sits beside it on the end featuring your mess of pins and collected patches from the locations you’ve toured thus far. The run schedule is still taped on the wall, and below it, your laptop has your notation software open and idle onscreen.

“Well, now,” Hawks chimes in with a little crouch over the back of your empty chair, “Surely I’m not looking at our next chart-topping hit in the making, am I?”

“Maybe!” you chuckle, joining his side to quickly save your work before you forget. “It’s getting the lyrics and melody to marry right that’s the hard part. Working out the latter right now, and it’s kinda kicking my butt.”

“But you’re doing it! Look at all this– wait. Is this what you were dancing to earlier?”

Damn his powers of observation. You’d been testing out the rhythm of the hook this week– when you’d been caught under his attention.

“...M-maybe?” you hedge again.

“I knew it-” Hawks beamed, “A stunning starlet and a mastermind. What can’t you do?”

Flattered beyond belief, you answer honestly, 

“Keep myself outta trouble with my managers. Trying to, at least,” you close the laptop to conserve its power, “but between the shows and speaking engagements, it’s left me a bit starved for time to actually make the music.”

“N’why would writing get you in trouble?”

“It takes me away from all the other things I ‘have to do’,” you sigh easily. “They can bring in anyone to make the music and keep pitching songwriting teams to me to take the load off. Just think something’s gotten a little out of balance.”

Without meaning to, you held Hawks’ attention– enough to make him sit back on the armrest of your couch and listen with undivided attention while you explained your creative process more. While most J-Pop performers would be thrilled to have outside writers create the work and easy into a performance schedule with pre-set work to learn, you loved to have a hand in the writing process too. As an art form, it’s personal when you have to perform season after season. 

You’ve chatted quite a bit here and there over these last several days, though not this extensively. He was interested in so much about this whole operation, to the point where you wondered if he’d ever met any of the performers who you knew presented at some of those hero galas he went to. Apparently not, by the way he’d lock onto your every word when you spoke. Either your timekeepers (or his) would inevitably interrupt you, so back to work you two would fly off to.. though you’d seem to circle back to one another and chat about anything and everything if given the chance- little spurts of talk that always left you wanting more.

He’d commiserate with you on that front as well– the balance of stardom and freedom. Bogged down by meetings and public appearances wore on him just as much as you. With every roadblock you described about your recent album development, Hawks nodded along with expected understanding. 

The revolving issue of personal safety might have brought him into your employ, but you know more and more cases like yours filled up his day-to-day life in ways you couldn’t imagine… but he even shed some light on that as well to you. He’d burst the bubble on hero work as an industry through little asides with you offstage: comments he’d likely get reprimanded for if he ever spoke them in a public statement. 

But you’d keep his secrets safe. What happens on set stays on set.

So even now, as he’s tucked himself into your dressing room while you puttered around chatting about your true dreams of getting a new concept album wrapped by the end of the year, Hawks tuned in with genuine interest that only made your heart skip a beat for him more.

“I haven’t always gotten the time to work on it lately… though this week, I’ve had a clearer head to be in here rather than under lock and key with a security force breathing down my neck– which is largely thanks to you, Mr. Hawks.”

“Oh please,” Hawks scrunches his nose and teases, “Mr. Hawks is what the lawyers call me. Just Hawks is fine!”

You exhale, squishing back any girlish outburst from your voice at how fussy he looked. 

“All the same, thank you for your help this week,” you pressed, “It’s -uhm- not often I get to meet my favorite Pro Hero on the job…”

A pleased smirk lifts Hawks’ cheeks, though you spot a funny kind of shyness in them when he studies your sleeve rather than look you in the eye-

“Favorite, huh?” Hawks smiles, “ n’here I thought I was the lucky one, sweet’eart-” he taps his headphones for emphasis, “One day I’m listening to you on repeat on my morning commute– and the next, I’m standing two feet from you!”

“--You’re kidding.”

From his pocketed phone, Hawks challenges you with a press and hold on the speakers to boost the volume as high as it could go. Faintly, you caught your own pop vocals from your second ever album casting from Hawks’ headphones. 

You can’t believe your luck– he’s really a fan? Of yours?

The mix of sentimentality and surprise must be palpable on your face as you grasp exactly which song has Hawks spellbound before he cocks his head with a sheepish grin of his own, 

“Believe me now?”

Words fail you, but you shudder out a little giggle that speaks volumes. He tests with a smile,

“Soooo guess you wouldn’t mind if I asked a horribly stereotypical favor and snagged a selfie while I’m here?” 

Eyebrows shot up to the sky as Hawks dangled his phone between you, you immediately pause. No one on your Communications team is still backstage (to your knowledge), but the engrained warning about checking your professional list of partnerships before posting comes to mind… annoying as it is. All you want is a pic with him, too!

“Nothing for socials-” Hawks assures you with a gloved hand, “If your handlers are just as pesky as mine, they’d never let me live it down. Just– something to keep me grounded, on the hard days.”

That reasoning… it almost broke your heart just as quickly as your potential disappointment had been earlier. 

With a knowing smile, you nodded sweetly to Hawks- he’s charming in a whole new light to you.

“Only if you send it to me too, hm? Favor for a favor?”

“ ‘Course!”

Sliding up into his open space, Hawks clearly knows his best side but keeps you right in the center of his shot. That smile he makes… you are going to keep this proud glint in his eye and sight of his hand around you locked into your mind forever– even if he forgets to send it to your insta handle after this. 

It’s too brief of a moment, watching his wing curl around you though the phone’s front-facing camera burgeoning you close, head tilting gently against yours. Keeping a close-lipped smile seared into your mind when you think of him now.

Then in an even more lightning fast moment, while he’s fussing with a weird flip of his bangs, you reach to tap the shutter as you sneak a kiss onto his cheek. 

He’s stunned by the move, but by the even brighter muted smile, you stand by with pride double checking his photo gallery that the shot made it. It surely did. 

“You have a hard job, Hawks; harder and more dangerous than anyone I know,” 

You step away casually.. Though the need for distance is more for your sake than just optics of your forwardness. 

“... Thought you deserved more than one lil selfie. Hope that’s ok?”

“H-okay?” Hawks breathes out, studying his camera roll with reverence, “Better’n ok..”

Outside a muted feedback from the PA system is calling for Exit team to assemble– get staged for your departure from the venue at last.

“That’s me. Better bounce-” Hawks piped up after a small clearing of his throat. You’re nearly too shy to look at him after this-

-but when a kiss greets your hand, lifted imperceptibly fast and squeezed just as fleeting as his words grace your ears- you couldn’t look away if you tried.

“- a pleasure, dear.”

And before you can utter any further word of thanks or manage something other than a shocked smile, Hawks slips out of the room and off to hand the reins back to your team. You can barely hear from the still-live walkie talkies that your security detail is back at their regular stations, and your Pro-Hero is off for his final step of his hired work. Soon he’d be relieved of his station and off to save someone else from an unsavory fate.

He doesn’t forget to send you the photos; and you now have his private insta handle.

The photo where you snuck a peck onto his cheek would be set as your internal screenshot if it weren’t for your niece’s constant borrowing of your phone when she visits you on set… 

But now, you’re back for a month-long stay at the studio– your reward for a successful first half of the Tour.

Encouraged by your protective muse’s spark at the thought of your new music, you decide to take that energy back to Chichibu. Your headphones might as well be glued to your head, with how much you’ve head-dived into your sound mixing apps and sampling library. In fact, it’s that unwavering attention to your music that you nearly miss the most obvious sight walking through the lobby of the unassuming recording studio. Almost.

But how could you really– when the largest floral arrangement you’d ever seen is gracing the reception table? That stunning piece looks like it costs more than the linoleum flooring the desk sits on. 

A few aides have been distracted by the sight, studying the typed message attached and racking their brains for any sign of a calling card. One of your cutting room techs was currently rounding the base of the standing arrangement for some tucked note, which made you giggle how intently she was studying the thing. 

You know the sound booth manager best out of this group of other visiting accompanists,

“Lucky, lucky girl~” she reels you in excitedly, plucking the card from the other’s sights and handing to you directly. “Sorry to say there’s no hint who it’s from… but it’s for you, little bird!”

You hedge at the pet name once again– the nickname stuck unwillingly not only for your melodic talent, but the association with your clear celebrity (heroic) crush. 

However, as you read the note, the immediate assumption that this may have been another gift from a venue host was thrown right out the window…

This was a personal gift:

To keep my genius company while she makes her magic~ No one can give us the stories you can; don’t ever  let them take your voice. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. Can’t wait to hear the new demo!

“No matter how high or low I am.. a piece of me will be here with you. It’s- where I'd rather be... Till next time…”

“Next time? Wait, who sent these again?!”

“It was just the delivery guy, from that really flouncy place downtown~” the receptionist answers with interest.

“Nooo, I mean on the card! Who signed the card?

“There's nothing– no initials, nothing..” you confirmed, still reeling over the message. But as you trail off over the cascade of tropical flowers, the flecks of red blooms catch your eye and bring you to study harder. 

Then- tucked under some deep green curls- a spot of red hides. A quill amongst the mossy padding of the arrangement- not unlike a surprise found in a nest.

Sifting through under the guise of feeling tender petals, you grasp the soft, downy feather which bears a small post-it flag on the underside with a sequence of numbers on it. 

“Do you have any idea who?”

Balling it carefully in your fist just as quickly, you answer, “Couldn't tell ya. But the pop of red sure is pretty, isn't it?”

In your booth -set up with your sticker-laden laptop and butterflies in your stomach- you hold the sticky note in one hand, pinching the crimson feather precariously in the other. 

Face warmed and unbelieving of your luck, you think on what to send first to your mic-stealer…

To be continued?

[honeyshiddendesire]

So You Thought I Was Nice?

Pairing: Paulie x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ duhhh lol Minors Begone!!! Rope Play, bondage, dom! Paulie, vaginal penetration, friends to lovers, rough sex, mating press, dirty talk/ degradation (silly girl, messy girl, sloppy thing, nasty girl) pet names (darling, doll, sweetheart), messy pussy eating, pussy smacking, creampie

*My first Paulie smut cause he is underrated and needs extra love!! If you don't like Rough Paulie keep scrolling please!!**

Summary: You unknowingly get Paulie all worked up and he has to show you he’s not as nice as you think he is.

“Ugh I just wish someone would be rough with me. Is that too much to ask?” You sigh as you sit on your friend's couch and instantly you hear Paulie let out a sigh. “Listen darling I’m all for hearing you vent …but this is too much for me.” He can’t help but groan as he runs a hand over his face. You pout as you look at him, his hands lighting up his cigar to get his nerves to calm down but you only press on. “I’m serious Paulie and come on you’re my best friend. Who else am I gonna say this too?”

“Hopefully anyone else but me.” Paulie’s continuous groans make you roll your eyes as you toss a pillow at him. “Oh hush Paulie you’re a big boy you can hear this kind of stuff unless you’re too nice for sexual things.” Paulie glares your way before shaking his head, “Better watch it doll you’re gonna get on my last nerve if you keep this up.”

If you keep rolling your eyes they were gonna fall out but his words just had you in full sass mode, “Yeah right it’s like I said you’re too nice. Besides, what cha gonna do anyway, hmm? You’re just like the other soft guys I have sex with, all bark and absolutely no bite at all.”

“Alright that’s it. Get your ass up.” His command was said with a red face that makes you break out into a laugh which only makes him see red. Instantly your hands are being pulled together by a long rope. “What the - hey!”

“I said…Get up. Now.” He grunts with a puff of smoke, yanking at the rope making you sit up on the couch. “Or did ya think I was too nice?” You couldn’t even think of a comeback, this spark in Paulie making your breathing pickup. You wondered what his next move was but you also wondered what yours should be as well. Should you play nice or keep being a brat just to see how far he’d go. Both options sounded good but you took too long for his liking. Putting out his cigar in the ashtray on his coffee table he stepped toward you with a very uncharacteristic smirk that you weren’t used to.

“What’s the matter, doll? You scared?”

“N-no.” You can’t help but stutter out but it comes off all quiet and you mentally beat yourself up for it. You’re usually such a brat but something in you just wants to comply. “Want me to let you in on a little secret?” He asks, leaning down toward your face, tugging on the ropes so you’d get closer, his hand holding your chin to look at him. Your eyes focused on him as he grins at your expectant expression, “I love breaking bratty girls like you.”

You gasp as he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying you into his bedroom where he tosses you on the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Safe words shipwright.” He tells you as he ties the rope to his metal bed frame. Your breath hitches as you see him move to stand at the foot of the bed, his hands removing his jacket dropping on the floor. You knew he was fit from his job but seeing him remove his shirt in front of you to reveal cut abs was a sight to behold. “Careful doll, you keep looking at me like that and I don’t know how I’ll hold up.” His tone was stern but he still wore his signature blush.

Removing his belt he winds it in his hands snapping it to make a loud sound that has you yelp, “Now you better behave or I’ll have to use this on you. Got it doll?” Without realizing you found yourself nodding along and he just smirked. “Good.”

He made quick work of your clothes leaving your bottom bare and ripe for his greedy eyes to view. Paulie scowls as he looks at your soaked cunt, “Look at how fucking messy you are, such a sloppy brat getting all wet just from a couple words. Disgusting.” Though his words are harsh you notice how his blush only deepens and he licks his lips, eyes never leaving your pussy. You squirm from his gaze and he only clicks his teeth pushing your legs open, “Behave.”

“No.” You mumble and he only grins, “No? Yeah I’ll get you to behave real quick.” Paulie says as he pushes your legs back and dives straight down to your leaky core. A scream ripping from you as he swats at your pussy, before licking you like a starving man. Sucking at your clit roughly making you squeal out his name in shock, “Oh fuck Paulie!”

“Ah ah ah~ a lady shouldn’t curse.” He grins even though you have the mouth of a sailor he still had rules that only he could break. Biting your lip so you can keep your curses all muffled as he shoves his tongue inside your pussy, circling around to get a taste of your juices. Nipping at your clit gently until you were squealing and squirming even more. “Paulie what the hell!” You can't help but yelp again as he slaps your clit, “I said behave.”

“Okay okay!” You whine out and he just chuckles before diving back in, shaking his head and sucking at your clit, his strong hands pushing your legs back to keep you still. You were a wreck, you didn’t think him of all people would be so sloppy then have the nerve to back up as if admiring his work and spill out utter filth. “Damn you’re such a messy girl, leaking all over the fucking place. Nasty pussy making my bed all wet.” You frown breathing deeply but there’s no weight to his words as he simply dives back in like you’re the best meal ever. “Tastes so fucking good mmm.” Paulie’s moans make your eyes roll back as they send vibrations throughout your body. You couldn’t get enough of him and neither could he.

“Paulie~!” His name leaving your throat in a whiny moan that makes him slap your thigh gently. Your sounds making his brain fuzzy and eat you with your passion, running his tongue through your folds, sucking at your lips and clit before kissing you all over. Stars danced across your eyes as you felt yourself cum in his mouth, a moan leaving you as you felt him squeeze at your thighs with a bruising grip that left you dizzy. Your voice was gonna be wrecked when he was done with you but you had a feeling that wouldn’t be the only thing he wrecked. After he left you shaking he moved to kiss up your thighs sloppily until he sat up and undid his pants, licking his lips as you watched with your chest heaving. He grinned as he looked at your flustered expression, legs shaking and chest rising and falling rapidly, “Easy there baby don’t want you passin out on me.”

Paulie felt a spark of pride seeing you like this laid out for him and it grew when he saw your eyes go wide just as he let out his thick cock from their confines. The tip leaking and red waiting impatiently to finally dip inside your wet caverns that he wanted to destroy. “Gonna make you apologize for all that shit talking you were doing earlier. I’m not gonna go easy on you sweetheart so you better be ready.”

Nodding your head rapidly you couldn’t help but give a breathy answer, “Please Paulie fuck- please show me.” SMACK! “Fu~ sorry!” You almost curse again but stop yourself after feeling the sting on your thigh again.

“Making me repeat myself again doll? Guess you really did want someone rough huh?” He taunts to you before kissing up your body, his cock grinding against your sensitive folds, “I’m gonna have to fuck some manners into you and this pussy for making such a mess. That sound good to you sweetheart?” He asked and you found yourself nodding quickly, your voice lost as you felt every vein pressing into your throbbing clit.

“Good girl.” Paulie whispers against your lips making you lean up trying to kiss him and he only smirks, “Didn’t think you were so needy.” You whine as you feel him grind into you hard, tongue licking at your bottom lip before dominating its way into your mouth. You release a moan at the taste of yourself, his tongue swirling around yours and you sigh into the kiss legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. You feel him pull his hips back making your heart race in anticipation, a moan being muffled by his tongue stuffing your mouth as he thrusts his cock deep in your wet pussy.

“Fuck~” Paulie groans as he leans back untangling your legs from his waist just to push them back into the mattress. You throw your head back as you feel him push deeper into you, “Yes!” This is what you needed all along. You just never realized that Paulie of all people was the one that could do it for you. He left you speechless as he picked up a brutal pace, pulling all the way out just to slam his full length back into you, never giving you or your pussy a chance to adjust. Toes curling and eyes rolling at the feeling of finally being used how you so desperately craved, “Paulie!” His name leaves your lips like a broken song that he wanted to play on repeat all night and he was gonna make sure he heard it.

“Like that ya brat?” His voice groans out, jaw tense and face a deep shade of red, blonde hair falling in front of his face as his goggles were long forgotten on the floor. You couldn’t find the words and just nodded in response, moans broken getting louder by the second and he could only scowl. “Can’t speak anymore huh?” You just whine as you feel him grip your thighs harder, his eyes looking down to where you both were connected.

“Slutty little pussy.” He mumbles as he watches his cock getting soaked by your creaming cunt sucking him in deeper. His hands on your thighs definitely gonna leave a bruise that you couldn't wait to see in the morning. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, the headboard rocking loudly along with your screams of pleasure were like music. It made his ears rings and he needed you to cum but he wanted you to beg him for it. Slowly his hips down has you whining and looking at him with pleading eyes that made him smirk.

“Awe what's the matter, brat? Ready to admit that I ain't so nice?” He taunts but it's breathy and makes your pussy clench. He looked so hot like this, hair a mess, face flushed and abs rippling as he had you folded. “Yes! Yes Paulie you're so fucking rude!”

Scowling he reached up and pulled your hair till your back arched with a moan, “Naughty little brat you just don't listen do you? Say you're sorry if you want to cum.” He groans, leaning down to bite at your neck, making you gasp. “I'm sorry Paulie please! Pleasepleaseplease lemme cum. I'll be good! Ugh I'll be so good I promise!” You whine and he leans down to nip your bottom lip.

“Yeah you'll be good for me finally? No more fucking those softies huh?” Paulie's words catch you by surprise but honestly you couldn't agree more. With the way he was fucking you there was no way you'd go back to anyone else when he was giving it to you so good.

“Yes Paulie I promise! Ah~! I'm all yours please let me cum!” You found yourself pleasing and he rewards you with a deep kiss and his hands going back to open your legs more. Hips picking back up their brutal pace on your cunt that was gonna be his by the end of this.

“Whose pussy does it belong to from now on then?” Paulie asks and all this filthy unexpected talk just took you for a world wind. It was too much and you couldn't take it at this rate. “Yours Paulie! It's all yours!” You scream out to him and he licks at your lips. Looking in your eyes as he says, “So cum for me baby.”

“Oh~Yes!” You scream in ecstasy, eyes rolling back and body arching toward him as you spray your pretty juices all over his cock. A deep groan leaving him as he cums right along with you, hips stuttering for a moment as he fucks ropes of cum deep in your pussy.

You didn't realize when he undid the ropes in your afterglow until he spun you around to lay on his chest. Both of you falling back into the mattress with a long sigh of satisfaction. His face red as a tomato hoping nothing more would be said or he'd die of embarrassment.

You had a huge smile plastered on your face as you looked up at him, his arms tightening around you hoping to squeeze the words he knew were coming out. “Wow Paulie I didn't think you had it in you.” You grin and he just groans loudly in response. “Oh hush it will ya. Don't make me gag you.”

Your eyes beamed at his statement and he only blushes more realizing he made a mistake in his words. “Really!? Can we try that next time!”

“Dammit you shameful woman! Do you always think with that pussy of yours?”

Staring at him with a big smile that he can't seem to look away from you nod your head, “Yup!”

Paulie just knew he had his hands full with a lady like you by his side.

*banner*

[kimarii-00]

Meant To Be (1)

Summary: Armando is captured by a gang in Colombia where he is sure he will meet his end. He isn’t sure what he’s done to upset these people in particular, but at this point, who hasn’t he upset? He waits for his inevitable demise to greet him, but he’s confused when all that comes to him are the four bland walls in the cell that he’s kept in. He’s even more confused when their leader comes to him, giving him an… apology?

Requested by: @joykai ! (sorry it took so long to write 😭)

Word count: 2.7k

Part 1/3 (?)

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

AN: Hello… LMFAO, I have no idea why this took me so long to get out. At first I just had writers block, then I got a job, school started again, my laptop broke lol, and so much more… And also I was stuck on this for soo long trying to make connections between bad boys 3 and 4, and eventually I just ended up changing the request a little bit to fit the story better, I hope that’s okay!

Instead of the story starting off with bad boys 3, I just made it start off at the end of Bad Boys 4 to better fit the storyline I was going for.

This will probably be part 1 of 3 parts, but there could possibly be more parts depending on how much I want to expand this. The goal and the minimum is 3 though.

I also didn’t edit this very thoroughly so please let me know if there is anything I should change..

ALSO THANK YOU TO @yeahnohoneybye FOR HELPING ME WITH THE SPANISH TRANSLATIONS!! Such a big help tysm! It was a while ago but they helped me with the whole spanish section!

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

When Armando was breaking his neck to do his mothers’ bidding, he knew that he had fucked with a lot of the wrong people. Gangs, police officers, and just downright dangerous people, and he knew for damn sure it would come back to bite him in the ass later down the line. Though that thought that used to be at the forefront of his mind slowly retreated to the backburner when he was relatively able to avoid confrontation with the people he may have pissed off in his past. Yes, he was technically on the run… But who really cares about technicalities?

The rescue mission that he was involved in to retrieve his fathers wife and the kid of the police captain he just so happened to have killed took a lot out of him. He knew that he was lucky to have made it out alive. Thanks to his father, he was able to escape on a boat and leave before authorities could get to him since he did illegally escape from prison, even if it was because he was being pursued and had people gunning for him.

He spent a lot of time thinking while he was in the water. He was a free man with the power to go damn near anywhere he wanted… Where would he go now? He didn’t exactly have a solid plan; afterall, he wasn’t expecting to be let off the hook like this. Eventually, he arrived at a place he knew he had connections in. He docked his boat and made his way to the larger house-boat that he knew contained an old ‘friend’ of his. The place was isolated and secured, for good reason. Both he and this ‘friend’ had been involved in some dangerous shit in the past.

He knocked on the door and it took a while for anyone to answer, but he knew someone was home. In time, he heard a multitude of locks being unlocked, and the door opened. “Armando?” The man said, “¿Qué haces aquí hombre?” (What are you doing here man?) The language hit like whiplash.

Armando had spent so much time with his father and other English speaking people, it’d been a while since he’d heard it.

“Necesito un favor.”(I need a favor) Armando said, quickly and to the point.

“Que? Espera, ¿no se supone que deberías estar en la cárcel?” (What? Wait, aren’t you supposed to be in jail?) The man questioned.

Armando sighed but nodded, “Sí, pero ya no. Sucedió alguna mierda; ¿Me ayudas? Necesito algunas cosas.” (Yeah but not anymore. Some shit happened; could you just hook me up? I need some stuff) He said.

The man nodded and stepped aside so Armando could come in. The place looked as dirty and unorganized as it's always been, but it had a homey feeling that came with it.

“Disculpa el desorden,” (Sorry for the mess) He laughed, “Algun dia me animare a limpiarlo, te lo juro.” (Someday I’ll motivate myself to clean it, I swear.)

Armando rolled his eyes playfully, knowing damn well this place would never be clean, “Sí, como tu digas” (Yeah, whatever you say).

Armando explained his situation to him, “Técnicamente estoy huyendo, pero ahora necesito una casa. En algún lugar remoto.” (I'm technically on the run, but right now I need a house. Somewhere remote.) “No importa dónde esté.” (Don’t care where it is)

“Mmmm, ¿una casa? Sí, seguramente tengo algo, pero no es tan remoto como te gustaría que fuera.” (Mmmm, a house? Yeah, I probably got something, but it’s not as remote as you’d like it to be.) He said with a smile, rubbing the back of his head, “Ya sabes lo que dicen: Esconderse a plena vista, ¿cierto?” (You know what they say, hiding in plain sight, right?)

Four months. Four months Armando had been living in Columbia. At first, it was hard to get used to. He lived in a small house in an even smaller neighborhood. It took him a while to wrap his mind around the fact that he was just a normal person now. He kept in contact with his father who’d informed him that he was keeping authorities off of his back, the concept of being on the run now foreign to him.

When he’d first moved in, he was wary of everyone and everything, thinking that just one slip up could cost him his new, peaceful life. After the first month went by without any incidents, he began to accept that he was now just a regular guy.

Everything was going great for him. Almost too great.

Armando had an odd feeling today. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt like there was a pit in his stomach ever since he left his house to go to the one convenience store he came to favor. He found himself looking behind his back on more than one occasion, but he chalked it up to him being paranoid. It would happen every so often, why would this time be any different?

“...Efectivo o tarjeta?” (Cash or card?) The woman at the counter said impatiently, and he realized he was zoned out. He gave the woman what he owed in cash, took his bags and left, but he just couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he continued to harbor.

He walked back to his home, hyper aware of the amount of times he thought he’d heard footsteps following behind him, only to turn around and see nothing that could’ve caused the sound, the rustling of bushes that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand cautiously, the chills that he swore came over him every other minute. But everytime he would investigate these strange occurrences, there would be nothing that could possibly endanger him. Why was he so paranoid today in particular?

Looking back, he definitely had a good reason to be.

He was able to return home safely, but was confused when the pit in his stomach made no effort to remove itself. In fact, he felt it only deepened the further he went in the home.

He figured it was time to get some sleep. Maybe some shut eye would help the queasiness.

He’d made it to the door to his room before he realized that something was wrong, and that the stubborn feeling he was fostering for the past thirty minutes was not just a feeling. The door to his room was slightly cracked open.

He knew for a fact that it was not like that before he left.

Just as he came to this realization, he felt a presence behind him. But he didn’t get a chance to get a look at whatever, or rather, whoever was behind him before he felt a muscular arm wrap itself around his throat and squeeze, leaving him with little air, and hardly any room to fight. He clawed at the arm, and tried to use his own strength to tear the arm away from him and create a chance to escape, loosen the grip just a little, anything.

Before long, he felt black spots dancing around the edges of his vision, and for the first time in a long ass time, he felt helpless.

He was still fighting though, and this seemed to aggravate whoever was holding him, “Just sleep dammit!” A gravelly voice said, his grip somehow tightening even more than before.

“Allow me,” A honeyed voice said. Armando faintly heard the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor before a dark-skinned woman came into view. She had a deceiving smile on her face as she looked over him once, and her gaze settled onto the man who was still holding onto him, “Loosen up a bit, would you?”

A loud and dramatic sigh was heard and air began to miraculously flow back into his lungs, and he figured that this was his chance to escape.

He couldn’t even make a move before he felt a prick in the side of his neck, and liquid flowed into him. It made him feel tired easily, and he felt his bones beginning to relax. His eyes lidded, mouth numb, unable to say anything.

The woman in front of him, still smiling sweetly, pulled the needle from his neck. He felt himself slipping farther and farther away from consciousness. Before he could fully fade away, however, he was able to hear his two attackers' conversation as the man let him fall limp on the ground.

“(Name)’ll be happy, this dude owes her a fuck-ton…” The man muttered.

“You know she doesn’t like it when you call her by her name–”

“She’ll let me call her whatever I want when we get this asshole to her.”

“You’re insufferable, y’know that?”

“That’s not what you were saying last night–”

“Just grab him and let's go! God…”

The man chuckled at her reaction, clearly finding it amusing to see her flustered. Armando couldn’t keep himself awake for any longer, and promptly lost consciousness as the man leaned down to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder (rather roughly may he add).

His vision filled with black and his hearing faded to the serene sound of nothingness.

He was awoken by water as cold as what he imagined to be what the water in Antarctica would be like. It splashed onto his face and dripped down into his now damp clothes.

He frantically looked around the room, senses heightened in the unfamiliar place. All he found was the metal chair he himself was sitting in, and an old, dingy light hanging over him that flickered every now and then. He found his limbs to be bound by a tight rope that he could tell were not budging any time soon. HIs lips tightened as he realized his situation. Damn it.

“You’re finally awake, I was starting to think the little miss over there killed ya,” He gestured over to the dark-skinned woman who he hadn’t noticed lurking in the corner of the room. She shrugged and her lips curled into an innocent smile.

“I told you he’d be fine.” She said, nonchalantly. Armando didn’t say a word, contemplating in his mind different ways he could handle the situation. He couldn’t spot any windows or doors other than the one that was in front of him, but he knew there was no chance of getting out through there.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Pissed that you got caught? You know, it took an awfully long time to track you down.” The man said, sliding over his own chair and sitting on it backwards, letting his arms hang over the wooden back of it.

“The boss doesn’t want you dead just yet, to my surprise. If you play your cards right you might even get to live to see another day.”

“Unfortunately.” The muscle man sighed out dramatically. Armando still found himself staying quiet. He knew that, given his past working with his mother, the list of dangerous people he’d pissed off at some point might as well have been a book. These people in particular didn’t immediately ring any bells, but they did mention this ‘boss’ of theirs, so perhaps they’re the one he tipped off.

“You know what you’re here for so what’s the point in biting your tongue? Just fess up and pay up.” The woman said, pushing herself off of the wall and making her way to him. He held eye contact until she reached him and bent down so her eyes were on the same level as his were, “Is your pride really worth your life?”

Silence filled the room, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the burly man begin to stand, looking aggravated at his continuous silence. The woman held her hand up nonchalantly, gesturing to the man to sit back down and let her handle it.

He saw the reluctance but he eventually sat back down, but Armando could tell he was getting agitated. The woman focused her attention back on him. She took her pointer finger and gently placed it underneath his chin, lifting it slightly. She had her usual smile, but her eyes gave away her irritation. “Listen, you understand you can walk out of here if you just give us what we’re owed, correct? Our boss is being awfully generous. Don’t tell me you’re just going to throw away that generosity…”

He let her finish her sentence but he wasn’t hearing any of it. Whatever he owed these people wasn’t his problem anymore, and therefore, he decided to make sure that point was well received by his two kidnappers. He spat a glob of spit right between her eyebrows.

He’d never seen someone look so offended. The fake smile dropped instantly and was replaced by the meanest stank-face he’d ever experienced. Her partner damn near broke his wooden chair as he shot up from it, the chair clattering on the ground.

“I told (Name) this asshole wouldn’t cooperate,” The man yelled. Just as he was about to stomp his way over to a helpless Armando, his phone buzzed.

The man stopped in his tracks. When he took his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widened.

“Jax.” The man said simply into the phone. Was his name Jax, or was he speaking to a Jax?

Armando felt the burning gaze of the woman he spat at, but he favored listening to Jax’s (?) conversation rather than another staring contest with the woman he’d pissed off earlier.

“Right now? But… Y-yes… Yes ma’am… I understand… We’ll be there in five.” The man said, scratching the side of his head. After a few seconds, he stuffed the phone back into his pocket and turned back around to face Armando. “Looks like you get to live a bit longer. We’ve gotta bounce.” The last sentence was directed to his partner, who hadn’t said a word in the last five minutes.

She made sure to shoot one last disgusted look at him before following behind her partner and slamming the door behind her. He distinctly heard the lock for the door be secured into place before hearing them walk away. He let out a breath.

The darkness and silence were somewhat intimidating.

He didn’t know how long he’d been left alone. If he had to guess, the minimum amount of time would’ve been at least an hour or so.

As much as he wanted to make the most of it, there wasn’t much he could do. Of course, he could realistically break the wooden chair he was sitting in by slamming it into the ground, and enough force it would definitely crack. But what was he supposed to do afterward? The door was sealed tight, he still had his restraints on and he didn’t know how many people were guarding wherever he was being held at.

Damn.

He wasn’t left with his thoughts for too long though. The door in front of him creaked open much sooner than he thought it would.

He furrowed his eyebrows. A woman walked in slowly, closing the door behind her. It wasn’t the women from before though, and if he hadn’t been in the situation he was currently in, he’d have to admit that she was stunning.

He heard her take a deep breath before letting it out in a dramatic sigh. She walked over slowly, reaching for something in her pocket. Was she going to torture him for information? Shit…

Imagine his surprise when she pulled out a sleek switchblade, but instead of cutting him, she slipped behind him and swiftly cut the ropes binding his limbs together until he suddenly felt strength regaining in his wrists. He wiped his head around in confusion and caution. Is this a trap?

She looked like she was studying him before she let out another sigh, and muttered, “Damn idiots… The wrong fucking person…”

Wrong person?

The wrong damn person?

…

…

…

Low key not happy with the way this turned out since it took me damn near 2-3 moths to finally post it but I figured I should get something out there..

TAGLIST!

@dasaniswrlddd @thedarkworldofhananerea @taylormcguire282 @timebomb1101 @5arlan7 @desiiiisworld @babygurl030 @lovelyme22 @Leavemealing @lewispool @yeahnohoneybye @velocitynyoom @maybepersuasivetom @deadpool15 @believeinthefireflies95 @lxla04 @planetnique @arinotarianagrande @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @hotwomanlythings @themainacc

[animestsstuff2]

Unconventional

Bakugou Katsuki X fem reader.

This is kinda long lol!

Part 1 here

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

You sat daydreaming during Present Mic’s class, English was never your best subject and you definitely didn’t try to better yourself with the constant daydreams. Your eyes glancing over to the blonde beside you. His eyes meeting yours the tiniest of quirk of his lip as his red eyes rolled playfully at your obvious un-interest in the loud teacher before you both. His foot shifting ever so slightly to nudge yours. The decision by Bakugou to move next to you went unnoticed by your peers, initially Mina picked up on it but after watching how you both literally never interacted during English she let her ship drown but it is Bakugou, nothing he does is conventional. Your eyes leaving the blondes as you thought about the developments which lead to you dating..

You were training with class 1-B today, it had been a few days since that awkward interaction between you and Bakugou and maybe you were overthinking it but he was acting different. You used to find him glaring at you sometimes, especially during any basic training but instead the blondes eyes were just looking, no narrowed eyes or furrowed brows. His expression was one you couldn’t place. Now every time you caught him staring he would immediately look away and so would you, not catching the small pink on his cheeks.

You of course were paired up with Bakugou, which was pretty rare. You didn’t really pair well together after all he hated you and wouldn’t communicate as a result. He would just leave you like many of the other extras who were deemed ‘unworthy’ of his cooperation in his dust, literally. This time however as you both stood in the fake city zone he turned, eyes meeting yours..well briefly, you stomach twisted and you kept breaking eye contact.

“Oi! I want you behind me this whole time. I’ll be the offence need ya’ to do the job of watching out for any little tricks they got” you just nodded, his red eyes meeting yours in a silent agreement as Aizawa called the match was starting. Bakugou blasted off and you quickly drew water from the rain puddles around you, gathering around your feet and sliding yourself forward. Your eyes keeping track of his body flying through the air as you stayed to the ground, not enough water to steadily build a wave to give you height.

The blondes eyes scanned the buildings for the damn extras, who was it again? Kenko? Some ginger girl and a boy with freakish green hair. His quirk was more threatening. His eyes scanning for blades when he felt the splatter of water on his back, quickly changing trajectory mid-air to spin and seeing you engaged with that razor freak. Your feet slipping across the ground as he advanced aggressively. The blades in his arms slicing through your shield of water each time you reformed it.

Bakugou growled, chest tightening as he quickly blasted down palm outstretched and sending a cluster shot. The boy just avoided it, large blade taking the brunt as he retreated back, huffing but Bakugou pressed forward. His palms hot and body sweaty as he sent another explosion at him. You followed letting him be the offence as he backed Kamakiri into the building behind him. His eyes glancing feverishly around and Bakugous brow twitched as he remembered about his other opponent, instantly following his enemies eyes that fell behind him.

His head whipped round, red eyes widening as the massive palm of Kendo appeared beside you, forming too quick for you to react but slow enough for Bakugou. His palms fired up as he shifted his focus. His mouth open yelling your name hand outstretched and grabbing you, pulling you against him as her hand swiped both of you, sending you flying through a window, smashing it entirely. Bakugou took the brunt off it, having pulled your back against his chest as he landed on his, fresh pain awakening on the bruised skin from your previous encounter together. You gasped, quickly sitting up between the blondes legs as he groaned on the ground below you, eyes cracking open from their squint.

“Bakugou! Why would you do that? Are you okay” You asked him and just like last time without even thinking your hands cupped his jaw, pulling his face up as your worried eyes met his. The faintest pink on his cheeks which you ignored.

“M’alright, shoulda been payin more attention n’ i would’t have had to save your ass” he grumbled as he sat up. You chewed your lip. You should have been paying closer attention.

“You’re right, are you okay though- your back is it-“

“Stop yappin’ i’m alright, m’ not made of glass like you..y’alright though, nothin’ nicked you?” The last part was almost a whisper as he met your eyes again. You quickly nodded realising the position you found yourself in now as you quickly let go of his face and scampered up.

“Good. Then lets finish this n’ don’t have me savin’ you again cause I’ll let you get beat up next time” he grumbled out as he stood up with you, palms crackling as you nodded, determined to help him beat class 1-B

You still couldn’t place why he saved you, even your classmates couldn’t as you all left the changing rooms, everyone having finished their own battles. Mina squealed as she hung off your arm, pulling and pushing at you.

“Oh Y/N it was so heroic! The way he blasted over, grabbing you with his big arms and pulling you into his chest! Ah! I wish I had a boy do that to me!” She cried as you giggled nervously. Mina knew about your tiny huge crush on Bakugou. She thankfully, mainly due to your begging, never pushed on it or put you in awkward situations with the blonde.

“It was nothing Mina. He was just helping me” you mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck as you arrived at your dorm door. She rolled her eyes, giving you a cheeky grin.

“C’mon Y/N, I just know you got butterflies when he grabbed you. What happened in the building, we didn’t see that par- Oh my God! Did you kiss! Did he confess his lo-“

“Mina- shut up! He could hear you” you yelled, cheeks burning red as your eyes feverishly glanced round, ears straining at the slightest nose. She only snorted at your expression. The red on your cheeks making her push more.

“You know i’m only messin’ unless that did happen and thats why your freaking ou-“

You slammed the door on her, pressing your palms firmly against it as you let out a breath. You heard her giggle on the other side. You rolled your eyes as you moved and flopped onto your bed, rolling over and stuffing your face into the pillow as your stomach tickled with nerves as you did think about it; about his strong arms, his firm chest. You groaned as you rolled over.

A knock sounded at your door and you rolled your eyes, not wanting to talk to your pink best friend as you moved over, grabbing the handle and swinging it open your eyes closed and brows furrowed as you opened your mouth.

“Mina, not right now please. I don’t wanna hear anymore about what happened or about Bakugo-“ your opened eyes met the confused red ones staring back. Your heart skipped and stomach dropped as the grip on your handle tightened. It wasn’t Mina. No, of course it wasn’t.

“Huh? What are you yappin’ about me for?” He asked, leaning down. He wasn’t that tall but unfortunately your parents were both short. You stepped back, mouth drying as you stuttered out a response.

“Hm! No-nothing, um, sorry do you need something?” You asked, quickly drawing together the fact Bakugou was currently outside your room a very odd sight. He leaned back as he puffed his cheeks out turning his head to the side, fingers curling in his sweaty palm.

“Y’got anymore of those heat pads. My back is sore from earlier” he mumbled out quickly and your eyes widened remembering how he took the force of the window and concrete which you both landed in. You spun round going to the small box and pulling one out, turning back round and literally squeaking as you nearly bumped into his chest. Your footing unsteady as you stepped back and craned your neck up.

“H-Here..do you need help putting it on?..- not that you aren’t capable! I just mean becau-

“Fuck, stop ramblin’ so much making me regret comin’ to you” he groaned and your cheeks flushed. His eyes meeting yours as he mumbled he did want your help. You nodded as he moved to sit on the edge of your bed, this time he reached down pulling his tee off and your hands cracked the pack prematurely as your face burned.

“Y’gonna put it on or just keep starin?” You could hear his tone lift from the usual annoyed grumble his words came out with. A smirk ghosting the edges of his lips at your blatant staring. The thought of you checking the boy out stroked his ego..not that he needed it.

You said nothing, fearing your voice would crack or worse you’d just blob like a fish and rather moved to sit behind him. Bakugou sucked a breath in still not prepared for the gentleness of your finger tips that ghosted the purple and yellow bruise on his back. Your hands touching delicately as you laid the pack on, pressing your palm to his back and moving your eyes up to glance at his turned head.

“Um, do you-you can sit here a while so it doesnt fall off or anything” you whispered much lower than you intended. The blonde only grunted feeling as awkward as you and not trusting his own voice. He moved himself as he lay on his front, hands moving to rest on the pillow, propping his head on his forearms. The curve of his large muscle bulging as you shifted to the headboard, pulling your knees up and staring at him. This was weird. Bakugou was topless..in your room..on your bed.

“Im sorry again for hurting you” you mumbled out, not knowing what else to say. His red eyes were piercing. The blonde just rolled them in annoyance.

“Stop apologisin’ its annoying me and you only managed to hurt me because I didn’t get a proper sleep the night before” he grumbled and you couldn’t help the snicker at his lame excuse. He was always so strict about about his sleep schedule.

“Yeah? You know you’ve yet to properly beat me” you quirked, feeling slightly more comfortable in his presence. He didn’t seem as intimidating, his brows weren’t furrowed and his eyes were gleaming with something other than annoyance.

“What! I beat you during training in the first week!” Oh no, you riled him. He shot up leaning closer as he narrowed his eyes at you but as quickly as he got up he cursed and slowly stilled. The heat back slipping off which you quickly grabbed and placed it back onto his back.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you and you’re right you did beat my ass pretty hard in the first week” you gave him a small smile which he returned with an eye roll and a cocky grin.

“Yeah and I’ll beat your ass next time too so don’t hold back” he wasn’t being mean. The competitiveness was true but he was teasing and it felt nice. You rarely, if ever, have seen him act this way.

“Yeah? I better prepare myself then” he only nodded and lay his head back down as you yawned, shifting to lay on your back.

“I can go if your tired n’wanting to sleep” he mumbled out and you quickly shook your head. You didn’t want this interaction to end. It was weird and definitely unconventional but it was feeding your silly crush on him.

“No! You can stay really. I don’t mind” he just nodded as you moved your head back on your pillow not initially realising how tired training had you till your eyes fluttered shut and a soft snore alerted Bakugou that you were sleeping.

He carefully got up as to not wake you or hurt his back further. He watched you curl up and chuffed out his nose at the sight of how peaceful you looked. He grabbed the small throw blanket and lay it over you, grabbing his tee and slipping it back on as he left ensuring the hallway was clear as he wondered back to his dorm. His stomach twisting and his palms extra sweaty. These feelings were new and he knew what they were but how he was meant to act on them was completely unmarked territory. He’d never had a crush..what was he even meant to do? Hold your hand? Fuck that Dunce face would never let him hear the end of it.

No..the next interaction between you too was certainly out of the norm. Katsuki’s behaviour was unconventional and it was obvious in his lack of traditional courtship.