#he really hit em with the did my man stutter?????

[samijey]

Sami & Jey at WWE Live: Köln 26/10/2023 💙

#sami zayn #jey uso #samijey #jeysami #wwe #stuff i made #i love boyfriends #not sami flexing his bf #he really hit em with the did my man stutter????? #look at how pleased jey looks at the end of the 1st gif lmao #jail for them both for a thousand years

[lovelyiida]

making mha guys jealous~

INLCUDES: BAKUGO KATSUKI, TENYA IIDA, SHOTO TODOROKI

WARNINGS: implied gender neutral reader, sexual themes, vulgar language, sexual language

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 2.9K

BAKUGO KATSUKI

just for one single day he’d let it slide, he thought.

One fucking day.

It was currently a calm Sunday afternoon at the UA dorms, everyone at peace as they settled themselves for another long week of rigorous training and classes.

and here you fucking are, sitting next to Midoriya on the couch laughing at whatever he was showing you on his phone.

Bakugo knows that you know he despises the fucker, so why are you basically insulting him to his face at the moment?

Bakugo grumbles as he stares down at the text you sent to him nearly 30 minutes ago, "on my way up babe” he reads.

a damn liar you were

you and him were supposed to watch a move earlier before curfew hit, checking the clock he grows hotter by the second.

almost 3 hours before the 8PM curfew, that may be a lot of time to some. but on this glorious sunday, the day was gone before it even started.

your boyfriend watched as you giggled with your friend, knees huddled into your chest as your face shined bright with a smile.

why were you smiling so hard?

only he gets to see you smile that way.

and here goes this fuckwad.

round, sprinkle faced, curly-topped bastard.

Bakugo couldn't stand the looks of Midoriya sometimes, he just looked so punchable. he can't believe that he has the audacity to take you from him, knowing that the both of you were gong to be doing something at this exact time.

he may seem like this ball of sunshine to you, but he sees his true intentions.

watching the both of you even harder, he noticed how he was showing you pictures of something, eye lids pulling close together as he tries to make out the images on the phone and the words you were saying at the same time.

As midoriya scoots closer towards you. Bakugo feels a pang in his chest, it almost felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. bodies bumping into each other as his head accidentally bumps yours.

Today he thought he was gonna let it slide, he really did think that.

pulling away from each other, the both of you laugh, and thats when he saw it…

Midoriya was blushing.

"oh, piss off!" Bakugo darkly grumbled, hastily marching over to the both of you. he got madder with each step, fists growing hot and smoke fuming out.

as the both of you continued to laugh, you feel a heavy dip in the couch. you also see your friends expression, a laid back happy smile to quiver-lipped state of fear.

before you could ask whats wrong, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you in tight.

"so this is what you've been doing, conspiring with the enemy?" Bakugos deep voice mumbled into your ear, making you jump. "w-what?" you stuttered.

"you texted me almost—40 minutes ago, that you're on your way, what the fuck?" Bakugo whined. you rolled your eyes, "bakugo, I was coming until I saw Midoriya! I haven't spoken to him in a while and decided to catch up."

looking over to the man of the hour himself, he lets out a shaky nod. "yeah! w-we were talking I was just showing them some pictures and–"

"what pictures?" Bakugo looks at you for an answer.

"nothing really!" Midoriya barks, earning a scowl from Bakugo.

"I wasn't fuckin' talkin' to you dumbass!" he yelled.

"now like I asked you, what pictures?" he says, his voice scarily calm.

"they were...pictures of you and Midoriya when you were kids," you admitted, Bakugos eyes widen as his face becomes warm.

"dude, what the fuck!" his free hand fling towards his face, poorly hiding his embarrassment. "I know, I'm sorry Kachaan! but your mom found them, and then she sent them to my mom…and she sent them to me!" he explained to the blonde.

"I don't give a fuck how you got them! just delete 'em!" He rubs his brows with his free hand to try and cope with the embarrassment. Finally having enough of this torment, he pulls you off the couch with ease and hurried to to the elevator.

stepping in, he lets out a breath.

"and stop fucking calling me that!" Bakugo yells, the vision of the green haired boy nodding in fear was the last thing you saw as the doors slide shut.

You sit in the elevator awkwardly as the sounds of the the elevator moving from floor to floor fill the void.

after a long moment of awkward silence in the elevator, you both finally make it to his dorm. Shutting the door, you plop on the bed, a smug smile not fading for a second.

You watch the blonde roam around his room, cutting on the tv and picking some random action movie he wanted the both of you to watch that you’ll most likely fall asleep to. Hearing him curse to himself as he trips on his shoes on his way to turn off the lights.

Crawling into the bed, you make room for Bakugo to lay in. Bakugo crawls in and throws the blankets over you and pulls you in tight.

As the movie begins to play, you couldn’t help but you let out a chuckle, “what now?” He groans. Smiling you look at him with hooded eyes, "you're so cute when you're jealous,~" you purr.

"i wasn't jealous!" he protested, making you luagh.

Bakugo pulls you in closer into his chest, which you kindly melt into. Burring your face into his chest, you let out a sigh.

"Midoriya misses you, y'know that?", you mumbled into his broad chest. The faint smell of sweet smoke fills your nostrils.

"I don't care" he spits.

You scoff at his reply, lightly hitting him on the chest. "oh come on! just for one day, hang out with the poor guy. you're always hanging out with me!" you complained, pushing his shoulder with your fist. Bakugo lets out a light chuckle, a smile barely present shown on his lips, nuzzling into your neck, he sighs.

"you're different."

TENYA IIDA

“Hey honey, are you ready for our study session?” Iida smiles brightly towards you, chest broad and stature straight.

You're currently outside the UA dorms, sitting out on the bench enjoying the sunlight after a week of rain with your favorite book.

“Oh baby, I promised I would study with you didn’t I?” You frowned at him. Interested to hear your response, Iida tilts his head. “I don’t understand,” he says.

Closing the book you were holding, you straightened your back. “Well…I forgot to let you know that I’ll be studying with someone else this weekend, please don’t be upset!” You pleaded.

Iida softly smiled at you, “I could never be upset at you, as long as you’re still learning I don’t care who it’s with.” His strong hand reached for your face, causing you to melt into iida as he caresses your face.

And it was true, as long as you stayed successful in classes. Studying with someone else is the least of his problems.

He looked into your eyes, your deep loving eyes. The both of you chuckle at the display of affection.

That was until he heard the door open. Sharply pulling away from your face he automatically shot his hand straight into the air.

Even though the both of you are in a relationship, the both of you tried to make it seem you weren’t together. In other words, intimate moments like these are only shown in private.

“Are you ready to leave?" a calm voice asks.

“Todoroki!” You jump up with a smile. Grabbing your book bag, you throw it over your shoulder and walk towards him.

Iida didn’t care who you were studying with…

Until he found out it was Todoroki.

Recently, Iida has been seeing him eye you more than the rest. It didn’t bother him until this moment. He also overheard a particular conversation the other day as well.

“Dude, if you had to pick one girl from 1-A to marry, who would you choose?” Kirishima asked.

Currently in the locker room, changing out of their hero suits. Iida was tying his shoe laces, not really interested in the conversation.

“I’m not sure,” Todoroki said.

“Okay, who was the first person that came to mind?” Kirishima says, his sharp toothy grin beaming bright from ear to ear.

“Um…y/n”

Iida perks up at this, not turning towards them. He simply stands straight up and walks out.

Today, Iida stares at Todoroki, his lips slightly twitch as he sees him chivalrously grab your book bag. Watching the both of you leave he cursed under his breath.

“Shit.”

There’s no way Todoroki has a thing for you right?

It’s simply not possible, even though no one really knows that the both of you are together, it should be a given.

He hoped today would be the only time it would happen. However, later in the weekend, he realized that both of you got to know each other way more intensely than he thought.

When he’d wake up and go to the kitchen, he'd see both of you sitting down next to each other, eating breakfast, talking about whatever happened the day before. talking about likes and dislikes, the two of you even had secret inside jokes that no one else knew of.

It irritated him, knowing that the special bond that he had with you was slowly deteriorating over the span of the weekend.

It hurts Iida that you spent almost your whole weekend with Todoroki.

Holding on tight to the short moments that the both of you would have, whether it be sitting down on the couch talking, or in his room cuddling.

Either you'd see Todoroki or he'd send you a text (he didn’t even know that he had your number). If it was true that you were going out with him, you would quickly apologize by kissing him on the cheek and saying your goodbyes.

and that’s what happened over and over and over again.

It was safe to say that he missed you dearly, even though you don’t really take you out on dates too often. he considers the study time the both of you have as a date. Even though there are no roses or chocolates or fancy dinners, he loves the time he spends with you.

He doesn’t want it to be taken by someone else.

That following Monday, the two of you were currently in the lunchroom. Iida didn’t sit next to you, but he was close enough to where he was able to see you within eyesight. Everything was fine until he saw Todoroki with lunch tray in hand, sitting next to you and began to converse with you.

He watched how you giggled at his words, whatever the both you were talking about. It must have been very funny. He's never even seen you laugh that hard at his jokes. Swallowing his food, he let out a deep sigh.

Staring the both of you down, he noticed that Todoroki had a light pink blush on his cheeks in a soft, faint smile that only his eyes caught.

You were so busy laughing you didn’t even notice that your knees were pressed up against each other. Throwing your head back in laughter, a thick strand of hair cascades over your face.

Don’t do it he thought don’t even try it

Todoroki reached out towards your face and softly tucked your hair back behind your ear. Eyes widening, you shyly thank him with a bow.

Iida didn’t even realize that his feet were moving by the time he got close to you. Grabbing your arm with such force it shocked you, as you were dragged out of the lunch room. It even shocked him that he was doing this.

Taking you to a classroom that is empty, he shuts the door.

"Honey, what's wrong?" you asked, slightly shaken up by Iida’s performance. “I don’t want you to hang around him anymore. He obviously has feelings for you.” he spit, his tone was sharp as you could tell that he was angry.

Your eyes widen for a moment until you frown, “is that what this is about? I assure you, Todoroki has no feelings for me.”

Your arms crossed against your chest as you huff out of breath. Iida scoffs at your words. "You may not see it, but I do! I know for a fact that he has feelings for you. He even said it in the locker room the other day!” he exclaims.

You let out a light gasp at his words. After a brief moment of silence, you giggle.

this makes him frown even deeper. “I don’t understand what you’re laughing about," he says.

You laugh, "I can't believe you're jealous right now," you say. Iida gross hot at your words.

“I mean, I have every right to be, don’t I? Todoroki has taken you away from me and it seems like you don’t even notice!” he exclaims.

Playfully poking your lip out, you walk towards Iida, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you pull him into your embrace.

“y'know all of this could’ve been avoided if you just let everyone know that we’re in a relationship.”

He blushed as you spoke softly to him.

“And what happens if I do? What if you get made fun of because of me? Because they find out you’re dating such a loser…” His words trail off as you can tell that he’s visibly upset.

Your brows furrowed after hearing his words.

“you? A loser? Iida, you are the president of class 1-A at UA high school. I’m basically dating the top student in the entire school! You are definitely no loser in my book” you reassured him.

A soft smile appears on his lips as his hands slide around your waist. “you mean that?” he says.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it” you mumbled.

Pulling in close to you, your lips press against each other softly. You breathe into the kiss, your hand racing from his shoulders to the back of his neck as you push him in for a deeper kiss.

Before this steamy make-out session could go further, you hear the door slam open. Gasping, you pull yourself away from your boyfriend.

“Todoroki!”

SHOTO TODOROKI

Todoroki doesn't see himself as a jealous type. He has no reason to be jealous not to make him sound cocky, but he has a good personality. He knows he has good looks and he's just a good person. What more could a person want?

You always thought the opposite about yourself, you never really understood why Todoroki chose you out of all the other people that desperately wanted him, but you never saw how Todoroki saw you.

You are a kind, caring, witty, and so funny a lot of people would die for a person like you, but you never saw that.

Or at least you never noticed, until today.

Today in class one a you were all sparring and training your quirks to the maximum ability. Todoroki stares at you from across the classroom. She noticed you were talking to someone in particular Denki Kaminari.

And bright yellow hair, a lean muscular build, a pretty face with a golden eyes, he's known to meet people on the school as a very attractive guy, and also a known heartbreaker.

He's no good, Todoroki thought.

He stares at the both of you, he noticed the way dinky I do his bright eyes gliding over, figure ever so carefully so that he wouldn't catch you because it be caught.

Denki knew you were already in a relationship with him with Todoroki, of course. But he could really care less. He still wanted to shoot his shot and maybe give you a little test of loyalty.

"Hey, is that skirt new? It looks Hella good on you." Denki says, sly smirk plastered on his lips as he spoke to you with ease. He noticed the way you blushed his comment you awkwardly laugh it off.

"no, this is the same skirt I've been wearing since the beginning of the school year. Thanks for the compliment, though." you give him a slight bow, somewhat thankful for his compliment.

"y'know, somehow I think it would look better if it was a tad bit, shorter...or maybe even off, your legs are so pretty! I wonder how they look thrown over my shoulders" Denki purrs, letting out a dark chuckles at his own words. he fawns over the way you tightly grip your skirt with your balled fists.

"you can't talk to me that way Denki! you know that Todoroki is my boyfriend. What if he hears you?" you whispered. Denki rolls his eyes at your words. leaning into your ear, he whispers.

"and if he did? what would you do princess?" Denki whispers, earning a shiver down your spine. pulling away, he notices Todoroki's sharp colorful eyes looking straight towards him.

Denki smiles brightly and even waves at him, he watched Todoroki smack his lips at his fake act. He chuckles at this, watching Todoroki stomp his way sighs.

reaching for a strand of you hair, he sighs as it slips from his fingers. "playtimes' over, gotta go beautiful!" Denki chuckles. Walking away before Todoroki could get to him.

Soon you felt a tight embrace on your back, "Todoroki!" turning towards him, you hug him tightly.

"what did he say to you?" his voice deep and filled with anger.

"nothing different, casual Denki being a pervert" you laugh, Todoroki only holds you tighter.

Todoroki isn't a jealous person.

But this time, he was.

hey guys!! almost at 200 followers, thanks sm guys!

— lovelyiida ❤︎︎

#mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha insert #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha todoroki #mha iida #iida x you #iida x reader #todorki x reader #todoroki x you #bnha headcanons #mha fluff #bnha iida #bnha todoroki #bakugo x reader #lovelyiida #bakugo headcanons #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Another Classic Rock Fan

masterlist

summary : a broken jukebox leads dean to a woman who’s so much like him that she sweeps him off his feet.

pairing : (earlier seasons) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count : 1.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, violence

gif source

“Son of a bitch!” You muttered, hitting the side of the jukebox, as if that would suddenly fix the (clearly half-a-century-old) machine in front of you.

“I tried that ten minutes ago sweetheart, it doesn’t do much,” A man’s voice said behind you.

“Well, maybe you didn't hit it right!” You exclaimed, hitting it again but in a different spot.

“What song are you trying to play?” He asked.

“AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night Long. And, before you say anything; if you want a shot at getting in my pants tonight don’t you dare disrespect that band,” You replied before you finally turned around to look at the man. “Or any of the classics, while you're at it.” He was taller than you, with brown hair and light brown eyes that stared down at you. The room was dark, but you could see a smirk form on his full lips when he saw your face.

“Hey, I wouldn’t dream of it!” He held up his hands in defense. “I’m an AC/DC fan myself.”

“Favorite song?” You quizzed, narrowing your gaze.

“Trick question, they’re all great,” He shrugged a little.

“Correct,” You nodded. “List some songs though.”

“Thunderstruck, Sin City, Girls Got Rhythm, Let There Be Rock; should I keep going?”

“No, I believe you're a fan,” You laughed, letting your guard down a little.

“So baby,” He smirked, “what’s the going price?”

Your smile disappeared and you stared daggers at him. “Go to hell!” You exclaimed before you brushed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as you did so.

“Wait- That’s- Shit,” He stuttered, regretting what he said.

You turned around, a childish smile now on your face as you looked up at him; “Shot Down In Flames, nice job. You really thought I didn’t get the reference?”

“I really thought,” He laughed lightly. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” You turned back around and he followed you to the counter. You could feel him staring down at your ass and you smirked a little; you wore your jeans that accented that feature for a reason.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” He smiled when the two of you sat down. “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m Y/n, and just a beer’s fine.”

“So, is there a reason you’re alone at a bar on a Thursday night?” He asked, motioning the bartender toward you. He then ordered two beers.

“I’m in town for work, don’t really know anyone here,” You shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

“Me too, actually,” Dean responded.

“Really? What kinda work?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Would not take you for a cop,” You nodded in response.

“So, who got you into AC/DC?” He asked, wanting to change the subject.

“My mom traveled for work so my little sister and I were stuck in the car a lot. My mom loved classic rock. It’s all she ever played for us, really.”

“No way! My dad was the same way! Traveled for work, loved the classics, played ‘em for me and my little brother all the time!” He exclaimed, both of you smiling widely.

The two of you talked about nothing in particular for another twenty or so minutes, Dean making the occasional flirty joke about taking you to his motel room.

**

“Oh my god!” Sam exclaimed, covering his eyes in a hurry.

“Sam, what the hell! Knock!” Dean huffed back as you hurried to cover yourself with the sheets. Dean stood up, still wearing boxers, and you sat up in the bed.

“Wait, you’re Sam?” You furrowed your brows. “And you’re Dean. The Impala in the parking lot…shit. You’re not- You’re not the Winchesters, right?”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

You covered your face with your hands and groaned; “Oh my god! You must be working the case here! The four women drained of blood?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Dean repeated, his voice now raised a little.

“Calm down, I’m a hunter,” You sighed. “I’m here working the case too, it’s clearly a vampire!”

“You’re a hunter?” Dean affirmed.

“What, you didn’t see the anti-possession tattoo?”

“No, I definitely did,” He smirked.

You looked up at him, a smirk finding its way onto your lips as well. You stood up, holding the sheet like a towel wrapped around you. “So, why don’t we work the case together?” You said, placing an open hand on his heaving chest.

He took your face in his hands and replied, “Of course,” before he kissed you.

Sam cleared his throat obnoxiously before he exclaimed; “Four dead bodies? Possible vampire nest? Impending doom? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sammy-” Dean started.

“Come back in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You told the taller man and then kissed Dean again. Sam got out of the room in a hurry so as not to see what the quickly escalating situation would become.

**

“I’m Agent Jovi, this is my partner Agent Sambora,” Sam and Dean flashed their badges as you did the same.

“And I’m Agent Paula Stanley,” You added to Dean’s introduction. Dean looked at you as if with awe as you simply continued with the conversation. “Could you take us to the bodies, please?”

“Right this way,” The doctor replied. You followed him to the morgue, Dean’s eyes glued to your ass as you walked away.

“Dean?” Sam interrupted his train of thought.

“What?” Dean exclaimed, clearly out of sorts and still very distracted.

“God, you are a mess!” Sam joked, Dean just looked at him with confusion. “C’mon, you’re practically drooling over this girl!” He laughed lightly.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Well, she- She’s just-” Dean scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Dude, it’s okay. Just, ask her out after the case, please? We’ve got lives to save,” He patted Dean’s shoulder before they both walked into the morgue as the doctor walked out.

“Hey, does this girl look familiar?” You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at the newest vampire kill; the fifth vampire kill.

“No, does she look familiar to you?” Sam asked. He took a look at the toe tag, “Silvia Mortenson?”

“Oh my god, she was at the bar last night! I’m sure of it!”

“Did you see her leave with anyone?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh this man; he struck out with me,” You inhaled sharply, “so he went to talk to her.”

“That’s when you went for the jukebox,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah- Wait, were you watching me?” You questioned, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“I may have had my eyes on the ridiculously hot woman in the Kiss tank top,” He smirked.

“So, we know who it is. Now what, we watch him, see who he leaves with, and follow them?” Sam interrupted.

“Or, we do the smart thing,” You shrugged. The brothers looked at you with confusion. “Use me as bait, duh! I lure him out, let him take me to the nest, you two follow me and we take them down from the inside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean scoffed. You slightly tilted your head, confused. “It’s way too dangerous! You could die!”

“We’re hunters, Dean; danger and death are kinda in the job description.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean trailed off, trying to think of a way to keep you out of immediate danger.

“Yep, we’re doing this,” You nodded.

**

“I’d like to take you up on that drink now,” You smirked, sitting next to the vampire. He had offered to buy you a beer the previous night, but you turned him down.

“What, you're not leaving with Leather Jacket again?” He replied, gesturing to Dean, who sat at the other end of the bar.

“Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but let’s just say I want a real man to rock my world tonight.”

**

He led you back to his motel where four other vampires were waiting. Sam and Dean rushed in after you, but you had already beheaded two of them. Sam got one, while Dean got the other. You walked up to the last one, the one you had followed here.

“And just so we’re clear, this man,” You pointed at Dean, keeping the machete in your hand ready, “is amazing in bed!” And you chopped the vamp’s head off. You turned to Sam and Dean, all three of you splattered with blood. “What?” You asked, seeing the shocked and confused looks on their faces.

“Gotta say, that’s the craziest way a woman has ever complimented me,” Dean smirked.

“Just setting the record straight,” You shrugged, smiling.

**

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam exclaimed when Dean walked into the room.

“I’m here to pack up before we hit the road?” He furrowed his brows before Sam rolled his eyes.

“So where’s Y/n, then?”

“She’s got her own room, second floor, why?”

“Did you get her number?”

“No…?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Can you just get to the fuckin’ point?”

“Go ask her out before she leaves!” Sam exclaimed, seeing the gears in Dean’s head slowly turning before he left the room.

**

“Can I ask you something?” Dean said, standing outside your motel room.

“Sure,” You shrugged a little. You opened the door further so he could go inside.

“Why’d you say that? To the vampire, I mean.”

“About you being good in bed?” He nodded. “Well, when I was flirting with him at the bar I had to lie and say you weren’t good in bed, so I figured I’d set the record straight before killing him.”

“Oh!” He let out a bit of a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. “What are you doing here? I thought the famous Dean Winchester was all about lovin’ and leavin’.”

“That’s what I’m famous for?”

“Well, that and you know, all the incredible hunter stuff.”

“I- I’m here to ask for your number.”

“Hunter phone, or personal?” You asked. (It was pretty common for hunters to have at least two phones - one for hunter contacts and one for friends/family.)

“Personal, is what I was hoping for.”

“Okay,” You smiled.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[imyourjettt]

It Just Got Better

Pairing: John Price x Reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Reader smokes.

Summary: You meet someone named John Price in the smoking area outside a concert venue. You don't intend to have a conversation but you do. It just feels...right.

Author's Note: Requested by @deadbranch - I was writing this last night on ao3 when I accidentally closed it out without saving. Safe to say I went straight to bed after that. (Semi proofread)

Your friends decided it was time for you to start dating again. Which is why you are currently on a "date" with someone you just meant. Your date decided he needed a last-minute concert buddy and asked you. Those friends of yours thought it was a great idea, and since you didn't want to let them down you said yes. You enjoyed going to concerts, but you had no idea what band was playing. The concert venue was pretty small, and there was only a hand full of people present. Since it was small the lines were also shorter than normal. But ever since you got to the venue you couldn't help but itch for a smoke. Thank god the lines were short you thought to yourself. You held your composure as you both made your way into the building. Since this was a standing concert everyone was huddled around the stage waiting for it to start. You and your date stand somewhere in the middle of everyone. You look around and see the door to the back of the building. Once you turn back to face the stage the lights dim and music starts to play. The crowd was roaring with excitement. Looking over at your date, you realize he was paying no attention to you. You took this as a perfect time to slip out and outside. 

You practically slam the door open, the cold air hits you first sending a chill down your spine. You close your eyes taking in the moment. Yet you open them to see someone already standing against the wall, smoking. You lean up against the wall on the other side of the door, but you can't help but let your eyes roam the mysterious man. You start looking for the pack of cigarettes you recently bought. You took your time looking, for the cigarette and at the man. He was an older man wearing a boonie hat, with a decent amount of facial hair. Then taking a wild guess you figured he was around 6'2 which you couldn't help but admire.

Your attention snaps away from him once you realize you forgot a lighter at home. "Fuck," you curse under your breath.

"You need a light, hun?" he asks.

Just from that sentence, and his accent you could tell he was British. You look up at him, he holds out his light and motions you to come closer. You did. He hovers his lighter in front of you and takes a step forward as well. You put your hand over it covering it from the wind and put your cigarette up to the flame. You could almost feel his body heat just this close to him. You panic, mumbling some curses to yourself and at why the cigarette won't light fast enough. Once it does, you quickly back away. After the first puff, you look up and he is still looking at you.

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"You're welcome," he says. A moment passes, and you move back against the wall when he speaks again, "Aren't you going to enjoy the concert?" he asks in a curious tone. 

You let out a sigh. "I um, well I'm here with a date. My friends wanted me to go, so I did. He's enjoying the concert. Me on the other hand, I have no idea what band this is nor do I want to be here," you pause for a moment, "Sorry I'm rambling." 

He lets out a deep laugh, "It's quite all right. I'm here with my work team, they wanted a night out so I offered to drive em' and stay. Which is why I'm out here. Glad I have company now." 

You don't bother to make eye contact with him, if you did you wouldn't know what would happen. "I'm glad I have better company now," you let out a laugh. 

"He's not a good date, huh?" he questions. 

You look up at him, his blue eyes locked on yours. You stutter out, "Yeah, um. He's just really into the concert. He pays no mind to me, which is probably a good thing." 

"Hmm, still I'm sure you deserve better than that guy," he pauses for a moment, "How could he focus on the concert when you were right there," he whispers, yet it was loud enough for you to hear. 

Your eyes widen, his words replaying in your mind over and over again. You can't help but blush. You take another puff of your cigarette anxiously. He could tell you were affected by his words, "Sorry, that was too forward wasn't it?" his words were cocky yet confident. 

"It's alright," you say slowly. The way he talked with you, you couldn't help but be interested. "What's your name?" you decide to ask. 

He blew out the smoke from his cigarette, "John Price, you?" 

Telling him your name, he's quick to compliment it. You couldn't help but think about how much he was making you blush. Suddenly the cold air was the least of your problems now. His compliments gave you a huge ego boost, so deciding to be bold you ask him, "Do you, um. Have a girlfriend?" 

He laughs out his response, "I do not." You could feel his eyes move over to you, "But I sure as hell wouldn't mind having one, hm." 

You shuttered with excitement at the thought. Still feeling his eyes watching you, you turn over to him and ask, "Do you want to have a drink with me? There's a bar inside..." You let the idea linger in the air, afraid he would reject it. 

He puts his cigarette flame out, "I'd love to." 

You couldn't help but smile up at him, you do the same with your cigarette. "Then let's," You couldn't help but show your excitement. As you made your way over to the bar your phone buzzed. It was your friends asking if the date was going well. A small grin appears on your face as you type back, "It just got even better :)"  You turn your phone on DND and make your way over to the bar where John was saving a seat for you.

#john price fanfic #john price x reader #john price x you #john price cod #captain john price #john price #cod fanfic #cod x reader

[dilfhos]

BEST PAL.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA x READER

CC: dubc0n, virginity loss, cucking, unprotected s*x, inexperienced sex, pwp

+scummy bf makes you help out his friend >.< [old drabble repost! ]

Dabi being such a good sport to help out his virgin friend, Shigaraki. What a pal offering up his girlfriend to take the guy’s precious innocence.

“C’mon don’t be like that. I thought Shigaraki was cool people!”

“Dabi you don’t even like him,” You protested.

“Not true babe.” He lied. In all honesty, he couldn’t care less if the ashy bastard got his dick wet in his lifetime or not.

But watching how inexperienced Shigaraki was when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat made him hard like none other. Especially when you were trying to be a good sport and take it. It was cute when you’d try to whimper for him to take it easy amidst Shigraki’s frantic yanking of your pesky clothing but Dabi knew his friend; He didn’t do ‘easy’.

Dabi watched quietly from the corner, making sure not to interrupt him as he had his way with you, only speaking up when Shigarki would begrudgingly ask if this or that was right.

“Yeah, grip her tits. She likes that,” Per demand, he does so, crimson eyes sparking up when you arch your back under his touches. Apparently you liked it when he teethed on your nipples a bit too—you were pulling his hair, muffling your squeal in the back of your hand.

“Be sure to tap her clit too, feel how tight she gets?”

Shigaraki would nod excitedly as he felt your walls clench around his dick. Wow, chicks really did dig it when you roughed ‘em up a little too. His grip on your neck had your eyes rolling as you bit back the urge the scream. Despite his inexperience, Shigraki could recognize pleasure from a mile away, thankful for the plethora of women in his desktop. His skinny, newly fucked dick was actually doing something to you.

And Dabi, man as irritating as he was to him all the time, he wasn’t all bad, Shigaraki deduced.

After all he was actually letting him fuck his girlfriend.

You didn’t really know what to feel really. Not with Dabi’s really weird friend humping your pussy like that. Not as he stared you in the eyes like a man crazed as he canted his bony hips against yours, every now and then hitting that delicious spot inside but mostly missing it. But the wild look in his eyes as he desperately rutted you like a dog, his other hands moving carelessly to grope your body made you bothered and wanted. It was cute in a way.

However in the span of six minutes, his face distorted and his hips stuttered. He didn’t even really get into it before his breath was hitching up and his body felt a surge of heat radiating through his veins from the start of his heavy balls.

“Fuck! Cumming! I’m-shit!” His movements spasmed to a halt. And you whimpered as you tried to writhe from under him but he held you in place. For someone as scrawny and paper-thin as he seemed, Shigaraki’s grip was steel. He wanted to move, really he did but the way your gummy walls were constricting him like a fucking vice, he just couldn’t help it. You couldn’t blame him, it’s his first time after all.

Your lips parted as your brows furrowed, staring him straight into his half-lidded eyes as you felt his essence jet into your unprotected little cunt, filling you up with a seemingly never-ending load. He leaned down, sweaty forehead pressed against yours, mouth parted to fan his warm breath across your face.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you looked over for reprieve but instead found your boyfriend looking every bit as excited as you felt disgusted.

Dabi had a sickening smile on his face as he drunk in the contempt in your eyes, hand lazily pumping his leaking cock. “I gotta teach you how to eat a woman out man.”

DILFOS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki #my hero acedamia #dabi x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero acedamia #shigaraki tomura x you #bnha #bnha shigaraki #mha #bnha x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #its so lateeee its 12am #but i wanna start filling in my masterlist so you’ll be seeing hella reblogs tm🫡 #I’ll probably come back and add like 50 more tags shdhdjdjdh #reblog for him and dabi to come through ur dreams tn hehe #[ output—☆ ] #tw dubcon

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 12 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hello everybody. Guess what I have another sad chapter.

What?! No way?!

Yeah sorry!

So I tried to brighten it up at the end cause we are falling into a deep dark pit of depression. Like where did the sun go? I had so much fun writing the Liebgott story and then had to come back to my very depressing OC, bahahahah. I feel so bad these chapters have been brutal. And I’m really sorry to say it’s gonna keep being brutal for like a while more. I have written some sad shit. GUYS LIKE I HAVE A PROBLEM WHO HURT ME?

This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters no hate to anyone involved.

(This is just for fun, but this clip is Skip and Alex, iykyk)

“You see what I got?” Hoob asked me while I dig out my foxhole. I wipe my brow looking at him perched at the edge. He grins at me, looking pleased with himself.

“No. What did you get?” I ask stabbing my shovel into the hard ground and throwing the dirt out of the pit. Hoob pulls out a gun, turning it over in his hands.

“A gun?” I ask. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No Em! Not just any gun, it’s a Luger pistol.” Hoob raises his eyebrows.

“How did you get a Luger? Isn’t that a German gun?” He seems happy with my response, getting himself comfortable. He tells me the story of how he came to be in possession of the pistol. Apparently he and some of the boys ran into a German on horseback, and in the man’s escape, Hoob had shot him off the horse.

“Well that’s certainly impressive Hoob, that must’ve been a good shot.” He cheeses at me, nodding his head enthusiastically, happy with my compliment. I laugh, thinking about how his love language is probably words of affirmation, he is so pleased to be praised.

“You think so?” He inquires, wanting more approval. I turn my attention to him, I place my hand on his shoulder looking him in the eyes.

“The best Hoob!” I grin at the man, his face blushes from my compliment. I giggle at the man, as he gets up from his position, telling me he is going to show the others.

I continue to dig out my hole, happy for the workout as it warms my body. Every now and then laughing as Hoob's cute smile flashes in my mind when I told him he was the best shot.

A gunshot sounds, I crouch down instinctively. Scanning my surroundings, my mind in overdrive already, did that hit someone? Where did it come from? I wait for someone to yell for a medic. I crouch down further, into my nearly finished hole. I open my bag checking I have everything I need. My hand brushes against the soft material of the dress Renee gave me. I stroke the fabric in between my fingers, when will I ever get to wear this?

“MEDIC!” I sit up looking out of the hole, “MEDIC!” I am on my feet rushing over to the voice.

Men crowd around a body, covering him in jackets. My body stutters, as I am about to move forward to help, one of the men leans back just enough for me to glimpse the face of the man lying on the floor. Hoob. I freeze, like a deer in headlights. I can’t take my eyes off of his face.

“LANE! FOCUS!” Lip yells at me pulling me from my daze. I kneel down beside him, looking at Hoob’s leg, blood spurts from the wound, fuck it’s the artery, I have to move fast. I grab a dressing from my bag tying it above the wound, I tie it as tightly as possible. Hoob groans in pain, squirming under my touch.

“Hoob stay still, you gotta hold still for me, ok.” I try to reassure the man. I look around. “I need a stick.” I tell Lip who nods, turning around to find me something. The men around Hoob continue to talk to him, how long did it take me to get to him? How long has he been bleeding? Lip hands me a stick. I place it over the bandage, tying it with the spare material. I twist it around, tightening it. I continue to turn the stick, but blood still pours from the wound. No no, please!

“Lane! Lane!” Buck shouts. Lip’s hand comes over mine, I get ready to yell at him for stopping me, but it’s when I notice the stillness. No groans of pain, no words of support. Just the men looking at me, sadness in their eyes. I look at Hoob, his eyes closed, face grey, lying still. I look down at my hands covered in his blood. I sit back, wiping my hands on the snow. I was too late, not fast enough, not good enough. I stand and turn on my heel, walking back to my foxhole. Wiping the stray tears from my face. I hate this place, how things change so quickly. Just an hour ago he was sitting and talking to me, smiling, happy. Now he lies on the cold ground as the warmth leaves his body, as his friends mourn him. He won’t make it home to tell his family his stories, for them to tell him he is, was, a great shot. Wasn’t fast enough, not good enough! I didn’t notice I was crying until my tears blurred my vision and landed on my still bloody hands.

“Emily.” Malarkey jumped into my hole.

“Huh?” I said looking up at him with my tear stained face. His brows furrowed.

“Oh Em.” Fell from his lips, and that’s all it took to set me off again. He pulled me into his chest, letting me cry.

“It was my fault, I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t stop the bleeding.” I whimper.

“It is not your fault Emily.” He said sternly. Pulling me back to look in my face. “You hear me!” I nodded sniffing. The voice in the back of my mind however doesn’t believe him, a part of me still holds onto the fact it was my fault. What could I have done differently? Not good enough.

“Come on Skip and Penky are waiting for us, I said I was coming to fetch you.” I wiped my face, hoping my eyes didn’t look too red and swollen.

I sit next to Skip in the hole, as Bill crouches down speaking to us. I push the thought of Hoob doing the same thing that very morning to the back of my mind, while Bill speaks. I don’t listen, I just stare at Bill. Watching his mouth move, the subtle pulse in his neck, his flushed cheeks, and breath in the freezing air. Alive. I think they’re all bitching about Dike, which doesn’t surprise me. The worst CO so far, I would say, I mean I think he is the worst he is hardly around to demonstrate it. Bill is worked up. I know we have to go into that small town we now border. Where the Germans hold the upper hand. Bill is afraid to go into that town with Dike leading, rightly so, I would also be shit scared of being led to my death. It’s a suicide mission with Dike, but we can’t change him, not without cause. Plus it’s Winters’ say not ours. The heavy feeling in my body still lingers, it pulls me away from reality, like it can’t handle it. My brain drags me to where it feels safe. Not here, not sitting in a foxhole, freezing my ass off, with the impending doom of death around every corner. I look around at the men I sit with. I take in every feature, saving it to memory. I do this a lot, I find myself doing it more often now. Like a coping mechanism. I think it’s because of my mother, I wish I had studied every feature of her face to refined detail. So that I could see her all the time when I needed to. But I didn’t, and now she fades. So, I will store every piece of these men to memory. I take note of how they laugh, the way their eyes crinkle when they smile, how they speak and joke.

Skip nudges me, tilting his head, his eyes asking me if I’m alright. I nod and smile. Making myself present in their conversation again.

“I know, Bill, all right? It’s me you’re talking to.” Don assures Bill he understands him.

“Jesus Christ! We’ve gotta do all this with a CO who’s got his head so far up his fucking ass, that lump in his throat is his goddamn nose.” Penkala and I chuckle at Bill’s crude statement.

“I like that one, think I’m gonna use it. Mind if I steal it from you?” I joke, making Penkala laugh again.

“Emmy, I know it’s a good one, I came up with it!” He grins at me, I laugh, shaking my head.

“I don’t know about that!” I say mocking suspicion.

Lip arrives, giving a pep talk to the men, trying to make Dike seem better than he is. I understand where Lip is coming from though. It throws everyone into a panic when they start thinking about how bad Dike is, which then affects the whole platoon. Nothing works when everyone is running around like headless chickens. I admire Lip, being able to keep everyone together and with morale, when Dike is god knows where. If it wasn’t for Lip, I’m not sure Easy company would be as good as it is today. Everyone trusts and respects him, I don’t even think he realises it, the impact he has on everyone. It’s hard to keep in high spirits and then bring that energy to everyone else as well. But Lip manages to do it ten-fold.

After Lip and Bill leave we sit and talk, the conversation fading out after a bit.

“Huddle in guys. You want to play a game?” I asked, as we moved closer together, a few eh’s went around the circle. “What do you mean eh?”

“Well it’s just the last time we played one of your games, it was I spy and Alex here had tree as his answer about ten times in a row.” Malarkey recounts the last time I suggested playing a game. I mean I spy wasn’t the best to play, since there was really nothing much to see in the woods.

“Hey, what else is there to see other than trees!” Alex complains, he was salty because everytime he started to say, “I spy with my little eye”, everyone would automatically guess tree before he could finish his sentence and then that would be his turn over.

“And then it ended in poor taste when someone spied a dead body!” Malarkey gives a pointed look to Skip.

“Hey it’s what I spied, that was the game!” Skip protested.

I laugh thinking about how we were all stumped, “D, what starts with D?” We couldn’t guess it so we had Skip tell us, he seemed very proud of himself no one could get it right. “The answer is, dead body.” Then everyone sighed and he was upset because we stopped it there.

“No this one is better I swear!” I reassure the men, who seemed apprehensive at my game ideas.

A beat passes as they think about whether or not they are going to let me explain the game to them.

“Fine! What is it?” Malarkey sighs. I grin, clapping my hands together.

“Fuck, marry, kill!” I say excitedly.

“What?!” The three say in unison, unsure if they had heard me correctly.

“Fuck, marry, kill. It’s easy you name three people for one person to decide out of the three who they would rather kill, fuck and marry.”

“I don’t get it.” Don says looking confused.

“Yeah no me either.” Skip agrees.

“Ok well I will give you an example. Ok. Alex fuck, marry, kill. Dike, Bill and Lip!” I direct the question to Alex who looks perplexed.

“What, no I’m not doing guys, that’s weird, I don’t want to fuck any of them!” Alex exclaims.

“It’s hypothetical. It’s not actually going to happen, just say who you would rather.” I assured him. Everyone sat eager to hear.

“Fine! Fine! I have my answer.” Alex finally says.

“Amazing, let’s hear it!” I prompt him.

“I would kill Dike.” Small giggle’s from all of us. We try to contain ourselves so that Alex can still be heard.

“Absolutely, go on.” I nod.

“I would… fuck Bill and marry Lip.” Alex blurts.

“YES! Yes Alex, omg couldn’t have said it better myself. I agree.” Laughter sounds from the other men.

“Ok now Alex you get to ask one of us three people to choose to fuck, marry, kill.”

“Don, fuck, marry, kill.” I’m giddy just hearing Alex say these words, I giggle.

“Bull, Perco, Cobb.” We all burst out laughing as Don groans. We lean in waiting with baited breath to hear his answer, grins on all of our faces.

“Marry Bull.” Giggling, “Kill Cobb.” Nodding. “Fuck Perco.” Roaring with laughter. “Shut up, you lot.” I wipe my eyes, I’m laughing so hard I’m crying.

“Ok then Skip fuck, marry, kill. Babe, Peacock, Tab.” Skip gawks at him, as we burst out laughing again. I can’t stop the fit of giggles that burst from my lips. Alex and I lean on each other for support.

“Ok, ok.” Skip starts trying to get us to listen, I slap Alex’s knee crying laughing. “Fuck Tab.” He raises his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. I throw my head back laughing, taking down Alex with me. “Marry Babe, and kill Peacock.” We howl with laughter, Don playfully hit Skip.

“What?! We were all thinking it!” Skip manages to say through tears.

“Right, now it’s Em’s turn. Emily.” I nod to show I’m listening while trying to regain my composure. “Us three.” I gawk.

“What!” I protested, I am shoved by Alex and Skip as Don raises his eyebrows like you-better answer-cause-we-all-did.

“OK! OK! I would kill Skip.” He looks so offended crying out a “HEY!”

“I’m sorry but Faye would kill me if I did anything, so I’m best to cover my bases. I would fuck Alex and I would marry Don.” The group aww in unison, making me blush. “Oh shut up you lot!”

We continue playing until we can’t think of any more people to choose from. We were so loud we had caught the attention of the other men around us. Multiple people came to see what all the commotion was about, being very confused why we were all red in the face and breathless from laughing. It was so funny we couldn’t even begin to explain the game to the other soldiers. It was the most fun I think we have had in a while. After we finished my stomach hurt from laughing so hard, same as my face from grinning for hours. Alex had started to lose his voice from cackling. By the end of the game we were so exhausted.

#fuck marry kill #band of brothers #donald hoobler #listen I tried to make it fun at the end #I needed it just as much as you guys ahahah #play fuck marry kill in the comments #wrong answers only #band of brothers fanfic #donald malarkey #band of brothers imagine #fanfic #hbo war #joe toye #bill guarnere #dick winters

[fablesrose]

Ch 12 - The Lost Heir Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: The con this week takes a couple turns as they try to steal a rich man's inheritance from his lawyer and give it to the charity he requested before he passed away. The client's lawyer is an interesting character as well.

Words: 4989

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate didn’t tell anyone, but I knew that he went to see Sophie, despite his insistence of leaving her alone on the last job. I wasn’t sure if she would show up, so I left Nate to meet the client on his own, just in case she did. What I didn’t expect was that our client would bring an attorney and that she would want to know what was going on all of the time or else we didn’t have a client at all. 

“I hate this,” Eliot said when Nate explained the situation. 

“You do not let Vicki Vale into the Batcave, ever,” Hardison said. I would have to refresh my memory on that reference, but I got the jist that he didn’t like the situation either. 

“First, this is my home, not a cave,” Nate replied. “Second, we’re not gonna allow her up here.”

“Sophie would never approve,” Parker said forcefully. “Call her.”

“We can’t just keep calling Sophie.”

“Okay, I see how it is,” Hardison said. “We can’t call her, but you can go off and have a little secret meeting with her.”

I should have known Hardison would already know about it. 

“What are you talking about? I was in Harrisburg, researching a client,” Nate defended. 

“Wow, cause you know what?” Hardison put some evidence on the screen behind Nate, “your passport got dinged going through Heathrow Airport yesterday. Heathrow’s in London. I guess you couldn’t get a direct flight to Harrisburg.”

“Well it’s hard when you do the same day booking,” Eliot pointed out. 

Hardison stuttered a bit in response to Eliot before getting back to his point, “Did you realize that London is the home of the most security cameras in the world?”

“Really?” Parker said, feigning interest. 

“Who feels like playing Where’s Waldo?” Hardison asked. “I do.”

Parker raised her hand with an ‘Oh!’

“Do you think he wore his trenchcoat to be inconspicuous?” I asked.

“Damn girl, it’s like you already knew,” Hardison praised as he showed a picture after picture of Nate, in his trenchcoat. “Waldo Ford. Oh, is that Big Ben? And you?”

We all smiled at each other as Hardison continued to milk it.

“Wow, you got twins and triplets everywhere.” Hardison became more serious, “and lookie there, 11:18 am standing outside of Sophie’s apartment looking quite pensive.”

“Aw, he’s rehearsing what he’s gonna say,” Parker said. “I’ve seen him do that.”

“Alright, alright guys. Okay, you caught me,” Nate conceded. “I went to London. Yeah. I saw Sophie.” He paused, looking at each of us individually. “And she’s not coming back.”

My heart sank. I had already assumed this to be the case since she wasn’t here, but him saying it outloud really hit it home. She wasn’t coming back. 

Parker shook her head, “Not now, or not ever?”

“I, uh, don’t know,” Nate said. “An, uh, I don’t think she does either. So, uh, that’s that.”

There was a moment of silence as we all contemplated what that might mean. 

“Could you please take the…” Nate gestured at the screens behind him with the surveillance photos of him. “Thank you,” he said once they were gone, “Can we get back to work?” Nate stood, moving the stool he was sitting on out of the way. He took a business card out of his pocket, “This… Tara Carlisle. Hardison, maybe you could just do a background check on her and if everything pans out, I don’t see why we can’t have an outsider just this once tag along. Hm?”

I couldn’t help but make a comparison, “I mean, I don’t think it’d be much different than having me around. Especially in the beginning…”

Nobody answered or added to my thought, but I did notice some clenched jaws and subtle head movements, as if weighing the odds. 

“Ok, why don’t you run it for ‘em,” Nate told Hardison. 

Hardison started his slide show, “Meet the late, great Bennett Kimball. He made his fortune the old-fashioned way: polluting, union busting, employing sweatshop labor. His personal life was even worse. Drunken driving accidents, chasing women, paying off the mob. 

“Why haven’t we ever heard of this guy?” Parker asked. 

“Because to the rest of the world,” Nate answered, “Bennett Kimball was a pillar of Boston society. Thanks to one very hard working lawyer.”

“Meet his longtime attorney, Peter Blanchard,” Hardison said, showing his picture on the screen. “This is an interesting guy. He’s a blue blood Harvard Law Graduate who turned into Kimball’s personal janitor. Dude would pay off the cops, pay hush money, God knows what else.”

“And he was rewarded by being named the executor and sole beneficiary of Kimball’s estate,” Nate added. 

“Lovely,” I commented sarcastically, “So he’s invested, to say the least.”

“Mmhm,” Hardison agreed. “See, Kimball didn’t have any kids. He had a couple of ex-wives way, way back, but Blanchard is the closest thing he has to family.”

“Well, I guess this Blanchard guy didn’t count on his client having such a giving side,” Eliot said. 

“Funny how that works,” Nate replied, standing up. “What happens to rich people when they know the end is near… It’s really, really amazing. Okay, I don’t know that we have a legal angle to play on this one, because in three days, he is going to present the will in probate court and assume control of the estate.”

“And our client’s charity gets nothing,” Parker said. 

“Now, Blanchard was the keeper of Kimball’s secrets so…” Nate continued, “Yeah, so that’s our way in, right there.”

“You want a skeleton from his closet,” Parker deduced, a bit excited. 

“Absolutely,” Nate agreed, “and there’s gotta be tons of skeletons. I mean, we want something so scary that the mere mention of it makes this guy run for his checkbook. So, uh, if that weren’t hard enough, we’ve got the chaperone to think about.” Nate clapped his hands a bit awkwardly at the task we had a head, and then took his exit. 

“Tara Carlisle,” Hardison said to us. He, Nate, Eliot, and I stood outside of a prison, waiting for the attorney to arrive. “She checks out. Civil rights lawyer, does a lot of pro bono work. Collects lost causes like kittens.”

She pulled up in a low profile sudan, practical. 

“Well, she’s honest,” Eliot commented.

“Crusader, incorruptible,” Hardison said as she stepped out of her car. She wore heels and a pencil skirt, professional, but still flattering along with her blond half updo and glasses. Hardison seemed to notice as he added, “And one sexy librarian.”

I looked over at him and Eliot with a raised eyebrow, but they kept their gaze on her. I rolled my eyes as I returned my gaze to the newcomer. 

Nate waved and walked to stand beside her, “Hey guys, I’d like you to meet Tara Carlisle. She’s our client’s attorney. She’s gonna be joining us today.”

“I’m here because I believe we share a common goal,” she said as she shook our hands. “I just want to make sure it’s done the right way.” She turned to Nate, “Now, you said you had something we could use against Blanchard?”

Nate nodded, signaling for Hardison to explain.

“Okay, well behind these prison walls, or, um, prison shrubs,” Hardison started, pointing at the low security prison, “is Kimball’s former business partner, PJ Orson. He’s doing ten years for embezzlement. Kimball’s company paid $50,000 to a company called Lamond Holdings back in 1980.” Hardison was about to continue when he zeroed into Tara dutifully taking notes in a little note pad. 

“That?” Nate asked. “Yeah, she does that. It’s okay, go ahead.”

Hardison continued, “Well, Lamond Holdings is a Vegas front company for the mob.”

“Yeah, $50,000 used to be the going rate for a contract killer in those days,” Eliot clarified helpfully. 

“I’m not gonna ask how you know that,” I said before I could stop myself, since I had an idea.

“Good, cuz you don’t want to know.”

“Fair enough.”

“You think Kimball paid to have somebody killed?” Tara asked. 

I didn’t have to look at Eliot or Hardison to know that we all made a little bit of a face at the question. 

“Okay,” Nate took the attention to himself, “now what we’re gonna do right now is we’re going to go undercover.”

“Well, why don’t we go talk to Mr. Orson?” Tara asked.

Hardison and Eliot laughed. 

“No. The best lie is the truth Mr. Ford,” she said resolutely. “I think if we go in there, and plead our case, Mr. Orson will wanna talk to us.” 

She had so much confidence walking into that prison with Nate and I behind her, even up to explaining the situation to Orson. Until he laughed in her face. 

Nate and I glanced at each other with a knowing look. Eliot and Hardison were getting ready for undercover anyway. It looked like we would need them after all, crazy. 

Orson explained to Tara how he was living a very comfortable life in the prison. He didn’t need his sentence reduced, he didn’t need any deals. 

Once Orson left, Nate told Hardison and Eliot to put the squeeze on him and for Parker to case Blanchard’s office. Nate then turned to us, “Why don’t you two come with me. I’m about to become a really terrible lawyer. You can watch.” He then turned to exit the prison. 

I waited for Tara to gather her things, walking alongside her, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” 

She gave me a skeptical look.

I reached my hand out to shake again, “I’m Y/n, Y/n Ford.”

She shook it cautiously this time, “Daughter?”

I shook my head, “Niece, but he raised me after my parents passed.” She let out a quiet, ‘ah,’ but before she could provide condolences as I could see she was about to, I spoke again. “So, I have to deal with his bullshit all the time, trust me, you’ll enjoy yourself at least a little bit.”

The three of us headed over to the courthouse after Nate changed into an… interesting suit to say the least.  It was a three piece suit, everything was powder blue except for his tie, which was orange. It was clear–he was there to make a statement. 

“Look, Blanchard’s here at the same time as you are. That’s a coincidence,” Tara said excitedly as she spotted Blanchard in the hallway. 

“No, it’s not,” Nate said, “we hacked into his online appointment schedule.” He quickly corrected himself, “I mean, yes, what a coincidence.” He waved a hand at us, “why don’t you wait for me outside?”

“What are you going to do?” Tara asked.

Nate stumbled over his words trying to say what he was doing somewhat discreetly, “uh, make an appointment with… You’ll see.” Nate then walked ahead of us, past Blanchard, to a judge’s door.

I stepped slightly in front of Tara, facing her as if to have a conversation, “You can watch over my shoulder, make it a bit less suspicious.”

She nodded, tilting her head curiously as she did as I told her. I in turn listened as Nate knocked on the door. 

“Hi there. Listen, Jimmy Popodokolos, Las Vegas, attorney at law. I’m here to talk to the judge about the Kimball probate hearing.” He then obnoxiously kept throwing in filler words and “very important”s  as the secretary tried to put him down for an appointment. 

“Oh, can you see Blanchard? He must be peeved,” I asked Tara. 

She hesitated, “Well, he’s facing away from me…”

“Come on, you’re a lawyer, don’t you know body language?” I didn’t wait for her answer before stretching a bit, peeking towards Blanchard in the process. “Yeah, he looks tense, this’ll be good.”

Once Nate was done talking to the judge he came walking back towards us. Tara and I quickly fell into step with him as we exited the court house.

“I think we should go back to the prison, something tells me Orson is gonna talk to us,” Nate said, stepping into the car. 

I laughed to myself a bit, knowing that Eliot and Hardison must have been successful in scaring the crap out of him. They were posing as guards within the prison and were stirring up trouble for Orson. The very real threat of getting him transferred to maximum security prison was looming over his head. 

Tara was confused, but Nate refused to elaborate.

“Who are you guys? Feds, playing hardball?” Orson asked once Tara picked up the phone again. 

“I’m sorry, what are you…?” she said. 

“Listen, the payment to Lamond Holdings was made to someone named George Gilbert.”

“Who is George Gilbert?”

“I don’t know. Blanchard said to keep it to ourselves because the mob was involved. That’s all I know, I swear. I don’t want to die in a prison riot. Please, call off your dogs.” The guard then came and told him that time was up, so he left the visiting area. 

“Alright, so Blanchard paid the mob $50,000 to kill someone named George Gilbert for Kimball,” Nate said. “Well, this should be an interesting meeting.” Nate then swiftly exited the room, Tara and I close behind. She was substantially more confused than before. 

Nate went to meet with Blanchard with this new found information to try and blackmail him a bit and buy enough time for Parker to break into Blanchard’s safe in his office. I went back to my apartment and changed into some comfier clothes and made myself a snack. I should have been excited to have another “outsider” around, to be able to share what I’ve discovered with someone else. But for some reason, it made me a bit anxious hanging around her. Like something wasn’t right. I tried to shake it off, it wouldn’t be the first time anxiety built up for no reason. Having a minute to myself in my apartment helped, I was able to decompress away from people for a little while. 

That was until Eliot knocked. When I opened my door, I didn’t fail to catch the quick look over he did and the slight tilt of his head. I took a second myself to admire how the long sleeves of his white undershirt were pushed up to his elbows before locking my eyes with his.

“We need you over here again. There’s been a change of plans,” he stepped away from the door, letting me step out after him. 

I rolled my eyes as I pulled the door shut behind me, “when isn’t there.”

“Touche.” 

Eliot gave me a quick run down as we crossed the hall and entered Nate’s apartment. It wasn’t a mob hit that Blanchard paid for. It was a stripper, a pay off to make her disappear. Nate then claimed that Parker was Kimball’s child from that stripper. 

Parker was complaining when we sat down that she was one digit away from cracking the safe. 

“Yeah, no. This is much, much better than the safe,” Nate assured. 

“I got everything on Georgia Gilbert, and I mean everything,” Hardison said. He relayed her birthdate, education, medical tidbits, including that she was colorblind, and even her shoe and dress size, heaven forbid. “And how in the world did you know that she was pregnant?”

“Wait, she was pregnant?” Parker asked. 

“Yeah, gave the baby up for adoption.”

“What happened to Georgia?”

“She died in 1985. Cancer.”

My face scrunched up in sympathy. That must have been rough. 

“Tough draw,” Eliot said. 

“Well, it wasn’t really a guess,” Nate said, bringing us back to Hardison’s question. “I mean, for decades Kimball, he had a lot of women on the side, avoided a lot of scandal, right? So what made him decide to marry Georgia Gilbert over all those women?”

“Blanchard paid her off and Kimball thought she ran out on him,” Eliot said. 

“Now, how did you know that baby was a girl?” Hardison asked. 

“Oh, oh yeah… That- that was a guess,” Nate admitted. 

Eliot and I chuckled a bit. The luck of this man…

“But, that’s a fifty-fifty deal.” 

“Why don’t we find the real daughter?” I asked. 

“Adoption records are sealed, paper only,” Hardison replied. “I have a reference number, but nobody can see inside. All this is good, until Blanchard wants a DNA test. I gotta say, even with my bag of tricks, I can’t rewrite Parker’s genetic code.”

“That’s quitter talk,” I said simply. 

“You know what-”

“Yeah, so we just have to convince him that asking for DNA is the worst possible choice he can make,” Nate said, cutting Hardison from a retort. 

“How do we do that?” Eliot asked. 

“We don’t.”

Nate briefed Tara of the plan. She was to go to a meeting with Blanchard and do some reverse psychology to get him to not want a DNA test. With Hardison attaching one of Parker’s aliases to the adoption reference number, it made it look like Parker was the missing daughter. It sounded like it was pretty successful, but only time would ultimately tell. 

It didn’t take long for Blanchard’s assistant to call, setting up a meeting with Nate and Parker. While it seemed like good news, I’ve been learning not to celebrate until we were truly home free. 

I decided to go to the hearing both to show some moral support and just in case something went awry. I had an earbud in, listening to how the meeting was going to go on the riverfront. Eliot went along as well, just in case. It was a good thing, because not long after they arrived, I heard gunshots. 

“Nate?!” I tried to whisper. Luckily the hearing hadn’t started yet, so others were chatting, but Tara heard and looked towards me with a worried expression. I waved her off, quickly and quietly exiting the courtroom. “Eliot, what’s going on?”

“Well, he was convinced alright,” Parker answered instead after the fighting noises stopped. “Good plan.”

“No, no, no, this is good,” Nate panted. “Because, I mean, you know, we get you to the hearing, he’ll cut us a check in the hallway just to keep you from getting in front of that judge. Just make sure that Parker gets to that hearing. No matter what.”

I started pacing the hallway. This wasn’t good, but hopefully salvageable. 

“Hardison, give me some good news,” Nate asked after a little while.

“Oh, I’ve got some great news for ya,” he answered, somewhat sarcastically. “They just put an APB on Parker. It says she’s a late 20s Caucasian woman who shot an officer. She’s an addict and she’s armed. Trifecta.” 

“Hardison, how good’s the description of her?” Eliot asked, but Hardison didn’t have to answer as I heard sirens coming through from his end. 

“Pretty good,” Parker answered. 

I listened to the background noises of them running and then eventually Nate took a call from Blanchard. Once he hung up he addressed us. 

“Hardison, y/n, Blanchard’s headed to the courthouse. You’ve gotta delay him. Buy us some time.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Hardison asked. 

“I don’t know, use your imagination.”

“Just use my imagination…” Hardison said to himself before trailing off. 

“Do you want me up there in the foyer, Hardison? Or should I stay back here, behind the security check?” I asked him. I was fumbling over what I could do to keep him from getting here. 

“Uh,” He said, it sounded like he was rummaging through his pockets, “No, I think I have an idea to keep him here at the security check for a while. Stay back there to run last minute interference if necessary.”

I sighed shakily, “Okay… okay okay.” 

He started talking with people in the lobby, asking for things to help, I assumed. I looked around, trying to think about what I could do to slow Blanchard down once he got here. What would Sophie do? Think of the classic tricks, the plausible movie tropes. My eyes flicked around the corridor, catching benches and people milling around. Then someone walked by with a coffee cup.

That might work. 

I was impressed with how long Hardison held Blanchard up at the security check, but it wasn’t long enough, Nate was still running behind. To top it off, Parker couldn’t find a way into the courthouse since every entrance was covered by police. I didn’t manage to find any coffee, but I did find a cup and water, so it would have to do. I poured some on the ground a little ways from the courtroom, to have a little more space. I had the rest of the water in the cup, ready for some oscar worthy performances. 

I watched as Blanchard turned the corner. I hyped myself up a bit, I had rough housed a little in college, played a pick up game every once in a while. I could do this. I timed it so I slipped on the water one step in front of him as I crossed the hall, not giving him time to avoid me. As I fell I took his legs out from under him and spilled the rest of my water for good measure. Unfortunately I fell a bit wrong and he fell on top of me, not quick enough to catch himself. 

“Aw, shit,” I whispered to myself. That hurt. I vaguely heard Nate talking to everyone else, giving orders to tweak the plan again, but I wasn’t listening. A crowd had gathered around, helping Blanchard and I up. 

He quickly apologized, but excused himself. He tried to run, but the water made the floor slippery, which significantly slowed his progress. I wanted to smile at the little victory, but I was soaking wet and my body was aching, so I just gently shook myself off before slowly following him. 

I sat down next to Hardison in the back of the courtroom once I got there and he gave me tentative knuckles. I touched my fist to his with a sigh, “that went better in my head.”

“Well, you bought some time, so…” he shook his head a bit, “but maybe don’t hurt yourself next time.”

“Noted.”

Nate loudly entered the courtroom as Tara was questioning our client on the stand. After introducing himself, the judge demanded that Nate represent the missing heir immediately. Nate took a moment to gather his things and thoughts, which the judge allowed. I heard Tara scold him a bit for posing as a lawyer through his comms.

“Well, stick around. I’m about to practice medicine, too,” he retorted back softly. 

I turned to Hardison, “oh, this’ll be good.” To which he nodded. 

“Uh, Your Honor, I’d like to offer into evidence these documents showing a payment that Mr. Blanchard made to a Georgia Gilbert, a woman I contend bore Mr. Kimball’s child,” Nate said. 

“Yes, Your Honor,” Blanchard interrupted, “Mr. Popodoklips-”

“It’s Popodokolos.”

“Pokadolokisp… Pop… Popa-”

“Popodokolos.”

“This man!” Blanchard said louder, “spun these fairy tales in my office. It’s a shakedown from a disbarred-”

“Suspended!”

“Ambulance chaser from Las Vegas!” He shouted. “And he says that he found Bennett Kimball’s daughter. So I only have one question for him,” he said much calmer. “Where is she?”

Everyone stared at each other for a moment before Nate replied, “I could produce her, Your Honor, if you just allow me to ask the witness one question. One question to the witness.”

The judge nodded, “Please.”

Nate then walked up to our client, “Miss Walton. What… color… is my tie?”

She hesitated, “I don’t know. I’m color blind.”

Nate went on to explain to the judge, and everyone else in the room, that both Bennett Kimball and Georgia Gilbert were color blind. It was extremely rare for a woman to be color blind, both parents would have to be color blind for her to have it. 

“Wait…” Ruth said from the witness stand, “Are you saying that I’m Bennett Kimball’s daughter?”

“It’s no coincidence, is it, that you started a program helping foster kids get adopted?” Nate asked her. “No coincidence, is it Miss Walton?”

“No, I was adopted myself.”

“Yes, in 1982,” Nate said. “You were two years old. The state of Nevada.”

“Yes,” she said in disbelief. 

“Now the last time you saw Bennett Kimball, he called you by a different name, didn’t he? What was it?” He asked, but she didn’t answer. “Gigi? Georgia Gilbert. Gigi.”

She nodded imperceptibly on the stand. 

“That’s who he was looking at when he saw you that day. Your birth mother, the woman he loved and lost in 1980.” This whole time he was speaking just to Ruth it seemed, but he then addressed the judge, “Your Honor, Bennett Kimball didn’t call Miss Walton here out of the blue to donate money to her charity. He searched for her. He searched for his daughter.”

“I move to strike Mr. Popodokos’s evidence from the record based on the fact that I haven’t been able to get adequate time to review these outlandish claims and prepare a proper response,” Blanchard said almost desperately. 

“Popodokolos,” Nate corrected again. 

“Popodokolos!” He nearly screamed. 

“I agree, Your Honor,” Tara said, standing elegantly. “And I would also like to add a motion to compel a DNA test to put to rest any doubt that my client is Mr. Kimball’s daughter. The truth will win out.”

“Motion granted,” the judge said. “When we get the results, I expect I will be awarding Miss Walton the Kimball estate. We’re adjourned.”

Blanchard wasn’t too happy with that outcome. He got even more upset once he was arrested as a result of the dirty files Parker handed over to the authorities from Blanchard’s office. He was screaming insults and suspicions that Nate wasn’t a lawyer as he was dragged out of the courtroom. 

“So,” Nate said to Tara, “do you still think law is, you know, the only pathway to justice?”

“Now more than ever,” she replied. “I like to think that you learned something from me today.”

She then left the courtroom with a pep in her step. We all filed out after her, heading back to the pub. 

We met up with Ruth, giving the bit of closure we could when Nate asked her where her lawyer, Tara, was. 

“My lawyer? I never met her before this week,” she replied confused. “She told me she was with you.”

We all shared a look. We quickly said our goodbyes to Ruth, wishing good luck, before heading up to Nate’s apartment. Once we entered, it wasn’t hard to spot Tara sitting in the middle of the room. She was wearing more comfortable and revealing clothes compared to her lawyer outfit. She also wore darker makeup and had her hair down.

“Took you long enough,” she said, much more relaxed than before as well. She waved an envelope in her hand. 

Eliot stepped in front of us, “Who are you?”

“Tara Cole,” she replied easily. “I’m a friend of Sophie’s.” She handed the envelope to Nate, “She said you were short handed, asked me to help. It’s in there.”

Eliot stood intimidatingly close to her, arms crossed. Parker looked her up and down evaluating. 

“So you help out by lying to us,” Hardison accused. 

“I wanted to see how good you really are,” she answered simply. “And show you how good I am. Consider it my audition.”

I stood back a bit, giving some space, “well, I’m never ignoring that gut feeling again.” I said, somewhat to myself, but I didn’t mind if anyone heard. Tara tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at me in response. 

“I bet you’re not even a lawyer,” Parker said, a bit of disgust in her voice. 

“Awe, Sophie was right. You are adorable.”

“Excuse me?”

Eliot, Hardison, and I stepped in a bit there, trying to defuse the situation that would surely lead to Parker starting a fight. It stayed at a bit of arguing before Nate caught our attention.

“She’s right. Sophie did send her.” Nate looked back at the letter, “And, uh, Sophie asked us to give Tara here a shot.” Nate handed the letter to Hardison to read to confirm. “Well played. Welcome aboard.”

“Thanks,” Tara said, shaking Nate’s hand. She then started for the door.

“Whoa whoa. Hold up,” Hardison said, stopping her. “What is this?” He held out another paper. 

“Oh, that’s my invoice,” She said. “For my cut of the inheritance.” We all stared at her for a moment. “Hey, I’m not a candy striper. This is my job.”

We turned to Nate and he gave a single, slow nod. 

“There, see? We’re getting paid already. It’s gonna be fun.” She then made her exit. 

I sighed after a moment, “well, I say we sleep on it. Not worry about it tonight.” I stretched a bit, a groan leaving my lips when a bruise protested. 

They all hummed in agreement, dispersing themselves and the tense energy around us, just a little bit. 

Eliot stepped up beside me, “How’re you feeling? I heard you took a tumble, just tackled Blanchard to the ground.”

I chuckled a bit, “Something like that. I’m okay, nothing like what you do, but I’m definitely gonna be finding bruises.”

He shook his head, “yeah, but you’re not used to it like I am.” 

“True.” We headed to the door, Eliot walking me across the hall.

“Take a warm bath, epsom salts help the aches,” he said once I opened up my apartment. 

I looked up at him, his eyes were shifting around my face, as if looking me over. If I didn’t know him, I would have said he was nervous. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

He nodded and then turned and started down the exit stairs supposedly going home as I shut my apartment door softly.

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @instantdinosaurtidalwave @kniselle @technikerin23 @kiwikitty13@plasticbottleholder

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer #leverage #rewrite #slow burn #multichapter #nate ford #sophie devereaux #alec hardison #parker #ford!reader

[wutheringmights]

"We’ll Meet Again (Some Sunny Day)” - Unfinished Bonus Links Draft

Over half a year ago, I swore that I was going to write a story based on @ezdotjpg​‘s @bonus-links​, which I never finished. This is in part due to a) me being absolutely devoured by CTB, b) me realizing that this story was gonna take 20k to tell at a minimum, and c) me being struck with a wave of insecurity; in short, I got really worried that I was not writing War and Spirit correctly and was projecting too much CTB onto them.

I had resolved to wait until I see them in the comic so that I could get a glimpse of their dynamic in action, but that might take a while. So in the meantime, here’s what I have.

Some Notes:

Obviously, this is just a draft so the writing/editing may not be up to snuff

I tried my best to gleam mannerisms and personalities from some posts Em made way back when, which I am unsure is still canon or not

Spirit signs in order to work around a severe stutter for these sounds: B, S, Th, Ch, St, G, W; I based a lot of how he talks around that stutter on how I deal with my own speech impediment (which is not a stutter) (so take it with a grain of salt)

War has a cockney accent that, in the worst decision of my life, I attempted to write out phonetically; he then switches to something more posh and British sounding

Official Summary For The (Completed) Story:

Spirit and War have always haunted each other.           

(Or: Spirit can see ghosts. War treats him like one.)

----

Spirit crouched before the engine, oil drenched up to the elbow when the bell over the workshop door chimed. Alfonzo typically took care of the stray window shopper who didn’t realize an train garage wasn’t a store, but Alfonzo was out on a run that took him to the farthest reaches of the Snow Realm. By all accounts, it was Spirit’s job to greet the shopper.

But Spirit was precariously balancing about six different wrenches, trying to keep the loose cogs in place as he fixed one of the engine’s inner mechanisms. He almost had it too. He couldn’t abandon it now, not even to return his workshop to its tranquility.

“S-sorry!” he called out, swearing when his gloves slipped on the largest wrench, causing the cog it held to slip out of place. “Just g-give—hold on for a moment!”

The customer didn’t say anything, but they didn’t leave either. Spirit could hear them meander around the messy space, observing the walls covered in framed pictographs and the shelves brimming with engine parts. Spirit did his best to ignore then, but his attention helplessly narrowed on the faint clinking of chain mail and the soft intake of breath from someone who was surprised.

Spirit didn’t necessarily hate noise. Trains were loud. But it was easier to concentrate when he was the only one making a ruckus.

Admitting defeat, he began tightening the cogs and screws until he could safely remove his hands. He sighed as he stood, wiping the sweat off his brow. Belatedly, he remembered the oil on his hands, and grumbled as he shed his gloves and pulled a handkerchief from his overalls pocket.

He blinked. Sometime between starting this project and now, the morning sun had disappeared in favor of velvety night. Yet, someone had turned on the oil lamps, dousing the garage in suffused orange light. The shopper must have lit the lamps.

Slowly, he turned hands already rising to sign his question. But before his fingers could start the first sign, he was met with a man too pretty to be real.

Pretty really was the best way to put it. He was a decent height, but not necessarily tall—not that Spirit, having not grown an inch since he hit double digits in age, didn’t need to crane his neck to make eye contact. His lashes were long, curtaining half-closed eyes as he bent down to the base of the last oil lamp. A match glowed between his fingers, the flame bursting when it caught the gas. The lamp lit up.

The stranger stood upright. Eyes bluer than the ocean flickered to Spirit. His face held a sophisticated gauntness that made even the act of blowing out the flame elegant.

Spirit fidgeted, suddenly self-conscious of how dirty he was in comparison.

The stranger was dressed to the nines in a well-kept green tunic, with a blue cape draped around his shoulders like tinsel on a tree, pinned in place by an opulent broch. Even his boots, the ones that had echoed around the workshop, were shiny with fresh polish.

A man like this wouldn’t normally look twice at him, even when he washed the oil away and put on his castle guard uniform. But this one smiled so brilliantly that the ornaments on his body couldn’t compare. “It heaven and hell is ya,” the stranger said, flicking the match away. His accent was thicker than molasses. It made every word sound long and chewed out. “It looks like ya kept yer promise, conduc'aw.”

Spirit stared. “I’m sorry?” he signed. “Who are you?”

The stranger’s face fell. His boot scuffed the ground in an aborted step back.

Spirit frowned. With the handkerchief, he scrubbed the oil from his face. Seems like this stranger really thought he was too good for the likes of him.

The stranger cleared his throat. “Pardon me,” he said and, like that, his accent was totally different. Each vowel and consonant was crisper than fresh laundry, each syllable perfectly creased into place. It threw Spirit through another loop. “I seemed to have been confused for a moment there. Are you perhaps the Royal Engineer they call Link?”

Spirit nodded.

The stranger seemed to study him for a moment longer.

Spirit scrubbed his brow again, trying to get the oil off his skin. Just who was this guy?

Finally, stranger smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand. It was pristine. Even his nails were finely filed. “I am also named Link, but I am called the Hero of War. Tell me—are you prepared to perform your duty as a Hero of Hylia?”

Spirit stared. “What?”

Line Break

The Hero of War said to call him the captain, or perhaps sir if Spirit wanted something more succinct. But that last part was said with a rakish smile, so Spirit rolled his eyes and settled on captain.

From there, War’s good humor disappeared. Face drawn, he explained everything he knew, which wasn’t a lot—portals had appeared in his time, and someone named Lana had handed him a map detailing where in Hyrule’s convoluted history they led to (actual Hyrule, not a reinvention like New Hyrule). War didn’t know why the portals had appeared, but he had been in a conflict many years ago that had a similar mechanism.

“Get your personal affairs in order and make your goodbyes,” War said when his explanation was done. It was a weekend night, and chatter of couples and friends finding entertainment for the night drifted through the workshop’s windows. “Take your time, but we should leave before the new day.”

“Who said I’m coming with you?” Spirit signed.

War arched a brow. His lips quirked into something that was almost amused. “Because you wouldn’t let anyone walk into danger. Not even a stranger.”

Spirit scowled and signed, “What makes you say that?”

“This is far from my first encounter with another sacred hero.” War meandered around the shop, making tiny faces at the hodgepodge of half-made machineries. Whatever congeniality he had built up soured the moment he realized there was black residue on his fingers. He pulled a worn, red handkerchief from his pocket.

Spirit’s attention narrowed on it. It was frayed to the point where little flecks of broken thread fell from it like rain. If there was ever a print on the fabric, it had long been drowned out by noxious black stains. The captain didn’t seem to notice them, primly wiping his fingers clean as he said, “We are all beholden to the same virtues.”

“I’m not a hero,” Spirit signed. “I’m a conductor.”

“I know a hero when I see one.”

“You’re looking for someone else.” Spirit marched over to the door, turning around so that War could see his hands. “You need to leave.” He ended on a curt jerk of the hand before yanking the door to the garage open, gesturing for War to reenter the bustling streets of Castle Town.

War frowned, but something else in his face shifted as well. His charm had disappeared, and Spirit heard a warning in the back of his brain as War folded up the handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket. “You are Link of Aboda Village. You have always been able to see spirits and ghosts, though you ignored your sixth sense in favor of apprenticing as a conductor and train engineer. Through hard work and study, you became New Hyrule’s youngest ever Royal Engineer.”

War walked up to him, ever footfall a punch to the gut. “However, your first months as the Royal Engineer were put on hold when the Spirit Tracks disappeared as well as the Princess Zelda. Luckily, your senses allowed you to see that she too had become a ghost when a dark demon ejected her from her body.”

Spirit’s hands shook too much to sign. They became fists at his side as he stuttered out, “St-st-st—”

“You fought the Demon Malladus and rescued the Princess Zelda. You restored the Spirit Tracks across Hyrule. You were given charge of a sacred train as well as a sacred sword. You are the successor of the Hero of Winds and an incarnation of the Hero’s Spirit.” He stopped right in Spirit’s face, close enough to make Spirit feel insignificant. “And you dare to tell me that I have the wrong person? Rest assured, Link of Aboda. I know more about you than you realize.”

Spirit stuttered over a few more syllables. Forget that. Without bothering to vocalize or sign, he pointed out the door. Get out.

War stared down at him for a moment longer. The corner of his mouth twitched the way Zelda’s did whenever she didn’t want anyone to know how mad she was. But his eyes were a different story. They softened, losing their intensity so quickly that it threw Spirit off kilter. “I’ll leave then,” he said gently. “If that’s what you desire.”

He stepped back, giving Spirit a little space. War managed a little smile before miming the tipping of his hat. “Good day, conductor. May the Spirits of Good guide you.”

His blue scarf trailed behind him as he left, entering the dark streets of Castle Town.

Spirit slammed the door back shut and pulled his gloves back on. He was retired from the  hero business, thank you very much. If Zelda couldn’t convince him to join the Castle Guard, then War couldn’t convince him to drop his entire life and go on some cross dimensional adventure.

But staring at his abandoned engine, Spirit couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to pick up his wrench and get back at it. All he could see was the gleam of the pommel at War’s side, how genuinely hurt he seemed when Spirit had turned him down.

How did War know his story? The only people in New Hyrule who knew everything about Malludus was himself and Zelda.

Did that even matter when War seemed like the type to throw himself into battle headfirst, heedless of whether he lived or died?

Spirit groaned and tossed the wrench aside. Barely grabbing his keys, he ran out of the workshop. Under the streetlamps, drunkards emptying the taverns glowed gold. Spirit stood on the cobblestone street, searching for the long blue scarf in the crowd.

“Hey.” Behind him, War leaned against the side of the garage. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he chewed a piece of candy on the side of his mouth. He grinned. “Changed your mind?”

Spirit frowned. “Give me three days,” he signed. “I need to make preparations.”

War almost choked on his candy. He banged a fist on his chest and spat it out. “Three days? We can’t wait that long!”

Alfonzo was due to return from his run by then. It would also be enough time for Spirit to finish his project and arrange replacements for the runs he was already scheduled for, as well as contact Niko and Zelda. He didn’t think War would understand that, but he hardly signed, “I need to get some things done” when War sighed.

“Well…” He mulled over it for a moment. “I have no choice but to agree. Three days it is.”

Line Break

Spirit was no stranger to ghosts. There was one now that frequented his apartment a few blocks from the workshop. It was the lingering spirit of the old woman who lived there previously, and she hated how dirty he kept his space. She seemed determined not to move on until Spirit learned some housekeeping. It was easier to just sleep at the garage.

But War couldn’t sleep at the garage. There was only one bed and it was harder than a sheet of steel: unbefitting of a man well-acquainted with the finer things in life. So Spirit had to take him home. He had half a moment to be embarrassed by the number of dishes he’d left to mold in the sink as well as the pile of oil-covered clothes and half-finished projects he’d left strewn about before War sighed and unpinned his scarf.

“Of course,” he muttered. “Of course, of course, of course.” He folded it nearly on the table, then added his sword and shield next to it. Then he rolled up his sleeves and started picking up the mess.

Spirit stuttered his own swear before rushing to help.

“Sorry I’m such a bad host,” Spirit signed when War did the dishes.

“Nonsense. It’s not as though I had given you any warning.” War scrubbed at a plate like he wanted to do much worse to it. “I remember when I first began living alone. It took me quite some time to master my own space. Speaking of which, how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

War paused. “Oh.” He set the plate aside. “You are much too young—to live alone, I mean.”

Spirit clicked his tongue and signed, “And not fight some evil?”

War barked a laugh. “If anything, you’re much too old for that.”

Spirit didn’t know what he meant. So while they did laundry under the midnight moon, War told fantastical stories of a hero who had fallen from the sky and the children who followed in his footsteps—their progenitor, their legacy.

The next three days were spent

#i literally haven't touched this since hold on let me check my doc #APRIL???? I HAVEN'T TOUCHED THIS SINCE APRIL???????? #DAMN OK OK OK OK OK #I'm sorry but ctb is literally all i have time for right now #bonus links #bonus links fanfiction #bonus links spirit #bonus links war #bl spirit #bl war #legend of zelda #loz #loz fanfic #me writing #fanfic draft #yes the title is a reference to the vera lynn song it's relevant #we'll meet again

[gabigabigabby]

just wanna be yours | e. smith rowe

emile smith rowe x mount!reader

a/n: this idea just came to me after seeing all the tiktoks of arctic monkeys' show at the emirates stadium as well as my prolonging obsession for arsenal's number ten. enjoy! ⭐️

synopsis: you and emile attend arctic monkeys' show at the emirates

warnings/content: fluff that makes me want to gouge my eyes out, emile literally being the best bf in the world, reader is just a teeny bit autistic, devyn riker is reader's best friend and emile's cousin, lmk if i missed out anything! 🩷

you almost wanted to throw emile onto the bed and kiss him all over when you found out the surprise he'd been keeping from you for almost two weeks.

apparently for emile, being a gunner has its benefits; the benefits being receiving free tickets to shows held at the emirates. he had received two free moshpit tickets from edu to the arctic monkeys' london show at the emirates. now, he knew how much of an arctic monkeys fan you are, so he decided to surprise you as you were eating dinner together in the comfort of your shared home.

"babe, don't you get too excited now and start hittin' me," emile began. "but edu passed me these at training two weeks ago," sliding the tickets across the countertop, it took you a moment to fathom the fact that emile just slid two tickets to the arctic monkeys show at the emirates to you; the show you'd been begging him for tickets to. "he knows you're a fan, but i know you know i'm not really a fan and so i didn't think you'd want to go with me because of that—" you picked up the tickets from the counter, skimming your eyes through them very quickly, before it hit you like a brick wall.

"arctic monkeys?" you finally spoke when it all finally clicked. "i'm going to see alex turner with my own eyes?!"

"yeah, again, i really dunno who that is, but-" before emile could even finish his sentence, your arms had found themselves over his shoulders, and as you pull away, you showed emile your trembling hands. "babe, calm down! rah." emile laughed, pulling one of your hands into his and pressing his other hand over top. it is something he does everytime your hands begin to tremble.

"you can tell me that when we're right in front of alex turner!" you shouted, pulling your hand away. "these are moshpit tickets, ems! how'd edu get these?"

"y'know, he's the sporting director. he's the man," emile shrugged coolly. "when the man has connections, cool things happen." you couldn't contain your excitement, to the point where you started spinning over to your tv, opening the spotify app and looking for that arctic monkeys playlist you listen to everytime you had to complete your chores.

i wanna be yours started playing on the speakers, booming throughout the apartment as emile giggled to himself, watching you spin slowly like you're in a disney movie. or like you're in greece in the summer. "wait," you paused, stopping the music halfway. "you're asking me to go with you?"

"y-yeah, kind of," emile stuttered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "i wanna see what all the hype is about. and you know, just wanted to spend a little more time with you," emile chuckled, getting up from his seat and slowly making his way towards you. "know i haven't really been home lately because of the euros and whatnot. and i wanna make it up to you, y'know? don't go with devyn, or-or mase... or declan, even. go with me."

at this point, emile had found himself before you as he reaches for your hands, you obliging to his actions. "go to the show with me."

you have no words, truly. this was the first time emile wanted to show his interest in what you love. but truly, it was about time he did after you've dealt with four years of his football and four years of the arsenal. it's time he did something for you for a change.

"okay," you replied, emile's eyes lighting up. "i won't take my superfan of a big brother, mason, and i'll go with you. the boy who knows nothing."

"i will know most things by the end of tomorrow," emile said, confidence laced heavy on his tone. "i promise."

—

you didn't live far from the emirates, so you and emile had the chance to take a short stroll down the street. you still couldn't believe you had received the greatest concert tickets one could ever get. today has got to be one of those days where you're grateful emile's job requires him to do it in a stadium, a place where not only football games happen, but concerts too.

"how buzzed are you?" emile takes the opportunity to ask you as you've been dead silent since you left the apartment building.

"buzzed as hell!" you unconsciously shout out, causing emile to jump a little. "sorry. i can't help but flip."

"it's alright," emile giggles. "i'm glad you're happy."

"i—" you shout again before realising that you're shouting. "am too. sorry. and thank you again for the tickets."

emile shakes his head. "don't thank me, thank edu. he's at the emirates tonight." before you could even give him an answer, your phone starts to buzz in your back pocket. with emile's hand still in yours, you pull out your phone and check the caller id. it's devyn requesting to facetime.

sliding the call icon towards the right, devyn's face appears on your phone screen. "you got tickets to the emirates show?!" she screams.

"rah," emile groans, shutting his ear with his free hand. "piss off, devyn!"

"shut up, emile. wait, how did you get tickets?" devyn ignores emile's presence. you giggle before looking to emile, signalling to him whether you should reveal your secret to getting concert tickets or not. emile was shaking his head like don't tell her edu gave these to us.

"emile got them for me." you finally come up with a false answer, which made emile blow out a breath of relief. on the other side, devyn answers with a confused what? as the both of you start making your way onto the bridge that connects the street you were previously walking on to the vicinity of the emirates stadium.

"yes, i got her those tickets myself. now, piss off, devil, you're ruining date night," emile's cockney accent passes through devyn's phone as he hastily presses the hang up button. devyn still had time to blurt out a send me pics and vids! before the call was over. "you have really annoying friends, babe."

"she's your cousin. people outside of our circle would be worried, what with you telling her to piss off 24/7." you laugh, the both of you handing over your tickets to the usher who allows you into the vip tunnel.

"it's true! she's always buggin' you! such a rat, her." emile shakes his head before stepping ahead of you, allowing him to lead you to your concert spot. he had put his left hand behind him and did the grabby hand gesture, calling for your hand to come and hold his so he knows that you'll always stay close.

emile can get very paranoid about you sometimes, especially at arsenal home games where the crowd is bigger than ever. he would always ask for mikel's permission for you to ride on the tour bus with the lads rather than drive and get stuck in traffic. he'd rather be the person that takes you to the vip box than the very aggressive guards that line the perimeter of the spectators' seats.

arriving at the vip standing corner, you find yourself with your arms wrapped around the blond boy as you shiver from the london cold. you were clad in a black sweater, but the winter seemed to find its way through the thick material and prick on your skin. lucky for you, emile had been wearing a black puffy jacket and you were tiny enough to fit into it with him. emile instinctively covers you beneath his jacket with his arms around you.

as soon as alex turner and his band makes their entrance and begins to play the first song on the setlist, you had already warmed up as you start jumping to the upbeat music. emile volunteered to be the person recording every single song because of his very little knowledge and liking of the band. you had just appreciated his presence; his being there for you, his helping you film the concert.

at the end of the night, you had tired yourself out. your combat boots had begun to hurt your feet and toes mid-concert and your urge to remove them and walk home barefooted was very likely. fortunately for you, emile had offered to piggyback you all the way home. you had argued that you weigh heavier than three sacks of rice, to which emile retorted, "i don't care, babe, your feet could be bloody right now. get on my back and lemme just carry you home. we live twenty minutes away, don't be dogged. and let's be real, if mase was in my position, he would never offer to piggyback you home."

emile kept on insisting, so just to shut him up, you climbed on his back and you let him carry you all the way home. every now and then, you would remind him about your weight and that he'd be destroying his posture just by having you on his back. he didn't care about that, he cared about your discomfort. you hated that he always put you and your comfort before his, but nonetheless, you were grateful to have somebody like emile holding your hand in life and at concerts.

"we should do this again," you whispered in his ear sleepily as emile piggybacked you home. "going to concerts."

you felt emile's body vibrate as he chuckled. "i'd do anything with you, darlin'."

#Spotify #emile smith rowe #esr #emile smith rowe x reader #emile smith rowe imagine #emile smith rowe x y/n #croydon de bruyne #esr10 #arsenal #arsenal fc #football #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you

[bolontiku]

"Bullshit"

Avengers AU - Chapter 10

Previous

Characters: Brock, plussize!reader, OCs

Posted: September 2nd

A/N: the sleepover act 2 🤣

WARNINGS: fluff, pining?, IDK

Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.

Frederick Harris.

The man was brutish, loud and complained more than any bitch she had ever been around. By the black eye he sported and the brace around his wrist it seemed that whatever he was bitching about was his own fault. But then again, he had been going on and on about Y/N. Which meant she had a lot in common with him.

She dropped off the next round to his table as he mentioned how unfair it all was. It wasn't his fault that her boyfriend was higher up than him or that she was friends with an Avenger.

She shoved his leg aside and propped herself on his thigh, smiling in his face, "if you could get back at them what would you do handsome?" She doubted anyone had called him handsome in ages.

He sneered at her, his hands finding her ass rather quickly. "What's it to you?"

"Seeing as how Y/N is my sister and those people have alienated her from me… I'd say I have a lot to repay them for. Maybe someone like you could help me?"

**

Brock lit a cigarette, he kept a distance for the moment, he wasn't about the touchy feely shit they needed to talk about, but he found the small balcony and had stepped out a few minutes ago.

He should go.

This wasn't something he was used to.

"Those aren't really good for your health right?"

He blew out a puff of smoke and shot you a smirk, "and?"

"Cigarettes cause cancer which means you could die…"

"I could die in the line of work I do."

You opened your mouth and shut it with a snap, expression showing how much you disliked that statement. He watched as you gripped the balcony in your hands, leaning back, his eyes pausing on your ass before he dragged them further up.

"Is that my shirt?"

You nearly dropped to the floor, a little squeak leaving you as you let go of the balcony to grip at the edge of your shirt. His shirt. The one you had snuck out of his place the day you had come back to your own. Brock turned, leaning one arm on the balcony before he pushed off it and started towards you. "I- well, funny story-"

It did things to him. It was his shirt, he recognized the little tear at the bottom, not to mention the faded SHIELD logo on the chest. Jesus fuck. It never looked that fucking good on him. On you? It hugged every curve, made him stare where he had only dared to glance, and your legs were bare. You wore those little shorts girls wore to bed, his mouth ran dry, he hadn't even fucking dared to allow himself to imagine you with your legs bare. Cause now he wanted 'em wrapped around him.

You didn't know what to do, you put your hands up, but that didn't stop him, your back hit the wall beside the sliding glass doors as he pressed into you, "Brock?!" His name came out hushed, a little desperate, "I'm sorry. I'll wash it and give it back, I just- I was still scared when I left and it smells like you and it made me feel better-"

The way you said his name right then was enough to make his heartbeat stutter, he dropped his head to your shoulder, hands finding your waist, "Keep it." The thought of you without his shirt on… "fuck-"

"Brock I-" his large hands curled at your waist, fingers tickling you, making you squirm in his grip. You pressed forwards into his hard body, it made you blush, heat radiating up from your chest blooming along your neck and into your ears. "Ahh! Please-" please lord God, please don't make a fool of yourself right now. What if this was just a hug and you were making more of it? He couldn't … did he?

Brock let out a low growl, it rumbled up his chest into his throat, "keep moving like that sweetheart and I don't know if I can behave myself."

Behave himself?! His lips brushed along the sensitive skin of your neck, your brain halting to a screech and thoughts escaping you.

Behave himself.

Not some girl.

Why would he behave himself?

The soft sound that escaped you made his blood heat and he wanted to have you making more of those noises, have you say his name, have you screaming as he-

The sound of the door sliding open had both of you looking over. Blake stood there with his head turned to listen to whatever Shelly was calling out about. When he turned his eyes back to the two of you Brock was leaning against the balcony, you stood with your eyes on the floor. He frowned, had he missed something? He grinned, shaking his head, "food arrived, we got drinks! Let's get drunk!!"

Brock found that Blake only became louder when he drank a little. The guys nose turned red and his eyes hazed over, he worried the kid would fall over and break his head open… and Ken was firmly planted on his ass on the floor.

Barbie giggled and whispered loudly. She couldn't get over the romcom they had chosen. He wondered how that asshole of a guy could lay a finger on her if it wasn't to make her smile.

Which made him look at you.

There was plenty of touching he wanted to do.

So, he settled on watching you. You held your liquor well; you, unlike the two that were constantly vying for your attention, especially now that they were drunk, had quieted. You laughed softly at the antics of your two friends and occasionally glanced over at him from your spot on the tiny couch.

He couldn't stop staring and barely registered when Barbie got up and never came back. Blake still had his back pressed to the couch in his spot on the floor, completely engrossed in the movie. Brock stared at your legs, you were sitting cross legged on the couch, his eyes slipping up to his shirt, he swore to whatever God there was that had blessed him tonight that he would do whatever they asked of him if it got him more of that.

You smiled softly at him, eyes a bit unfocused, mouth soft. He crooked a finger at you, your eyes flickered to Blake, whose head was now bobbing, before looking back at him. Brock again crooked his finger at you. Finally you shifted closer, eyebrows raising, he sighed heavily and motioned you to come closer. The moment you were within reach Brock tugged you into his lap.

You concentrated on not spilling your drink, but the movement was so sudden. Brock wrapped a hand around your mouth and the other around your waist, before settling his head on your shoulder.

"Shh, you'll wake up Ken doll," he hummed into your skin, his breath warm and his light beard tickling you.

You nodded, his hand disappearing from your mouth, unaware Blake had fallen asleep, you leaned forwards to peek at him before Brock tugged you back into him making you giggle. Brock closed his eyes, you squirmed your ass in his lap and it took everything in him to remind himself that Blake was right there and so he buried his face into the crook of your neck before growling at you.

You froze as he stretched his legs on either side of you, his solid frame pressed up against your back as he took deep calming breaths. "You dizzy?" You managed to breathe out quietly. He nodded heavily, you huffed a soft laugh, "I thought you could.. h-hold your liquor?" You stuttered as his lips pressed against your skin.

"Mmm" it wasn't an answer but you smelled so damn good and he couldn't get the fact that you were wearing his shirt out of his head. Maybe he had too much to drink, his eyelids were heavy, maybe it was your shampoo that made him drunk. "What is that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from nipping at your earlobe, he should behave himself…

"EHhhHhHhh?!" You jolted at the action, his arms tightening around your waist to keep you still.

"Shhh, your shampoo?"

"I- uh!" He nuzzled your neck, goosebumps littering your skin as you tightening your legs. Your gaze skipped to Blake, "strawberry?"

"You smell good enough to eat Y/N."

"Brock?"

He paused, God he could listen to you say his name forever, but you sounded unsure. He was misbehaving, "you should go to bed…"

You nodded, feeling an ache in the center of your chest, had you done something wrong? Your eyes stung as you shifted in his lap and he reluctantly let go.

You made it to the door before he called out softly to you, "lock the door."

You stood still for a moment, remembering-

"Why-?" He blinked as you stared up at him, "why- y-you tell me to lock the door, but not Shelly?"

Brock studied your face, curiosity plain on your features. "I want you to feel safe."

"B-Brock?" You struggled to keep your voice from shaking as you turned to face him. He had laid back and sprawled on the couch, lifting his head, he raised his eyebrows at you in question. "I-if we leave the door o-open… can- I mean would you sleep in bed with me?"

He knew it took you courage to ask and it was a bad idea but he was up on his feet without a thought. You beamed as he walked towards you, quickly turning to hurry to pull the covers back. Brock sucked his teeth and motioned you in while he toed his boots off, you climbed into your bed confused when he drew the covers over you and then climbed in himself.

You knew he could feel your nervousness.

"Come here," he said, holding out an arm. You scrambled over, sighing lightly when he wrapped you in his arms. "Go to sleep."

You smiled, eyes heavy when you felt his lips brush your forehead. A goodnight kiss? Already losing the battle to sleep, you tipped your head and pressed a kiss to his chin, unaware of the battle Brock was going through as you drifted off to sleep.

**

Ashley liked kissing.

Harris wasn't that bad of a kisser even if he looked like he had gotten hit by a semi truck, she had an inkling he looked like that before he had gotten beaten. But it only mattered that he could get her onto SHIELD property.

And he had.

"This is where the bitch works."

She grinned and trailed her fingertips over his broad chest, at least he had that going for him, "you can get her for me?"

He didn't understand, but then it really didn't matter. This chick was willing to let him fuck her and she had a plan to get back at them all. He nodded stupidly as her hands dipped lower. "You don't care how I get her?"

The area was vacant and Ashley could imagine you sitting happy-go-lucky behind the counter. When had you changed? To get the balls to have her evicted from your shared place and your life? It was that man. He was the reason for your sudden confidence, you owed her everything. Especially since being evicted her boyfriend had left her, it was all your fault. She shouldn't be working. Making deals with men that weren't worth her time. You should have introduced her to one of the men that worked there if not an Avenger.

"Hey-"

She shook her head, "it doesn't matter, she's my sister, she needs to answer for what she's done to me. I want her back."

Harris grinned.

This would be fun. He could get rid of the problem and make sure that jerk Rumlow never saw you again. Why he was so interested in you was beyond him.

**

Blake pressed his pointer finger to his lips, Shelly moved quietly in her fluffy socks. She had taken the bed in your extra room, Blake had drunkenly sprawled out on the empty couch. Shelly tiptoed through the living room wondering where you were when she paused at your door. She tugged out her cell phone and snapped a picture before Blake could stop her.

Brock was laid back amongst soft pink covers and there you were, head propped on his chest with his arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders, his hand buried in your hair.

Shelly giggled as Blake pulled her away and into the kitchen. "So cute!" She whispered with glee as he started messing with the coffee maker.

"Guess he is okay," he grumbled.

Shelly tilted her head as she sent the picture to you. "Did you want to date her?"

Blake sighed, "it's not that.." He stared at the coffee as it started its slow drip. "Everyone said he was a bad guy… but-" he looked over his shoulder, remembering the day before, finding out what he had done for Shelly, sharing what he had done for him, "he's not."

It didn't sit well with him, he knew what it was like to be judged quickly. Too many judged him by his looks, he was the polar opposite of Brock, not that he really paid any mind to the scar running down the guy's face. He paused, he really hadn't, not when the guy was too busy trying to cause problems for Y/N but they all knew it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. They all knew his hassling her was his way of getting her to look at him, to have her attention on him, it made Blake snicker.

As a matter of fact when your problem had originally been taken care of you had stayed quiet and meek for a minute, that is until Brock came around and picked a fight with you. It had been the first time you had absolutely raised your voice, eyes full of flame and you had yelled at him for being so idiotic. Blake stifled his laughter at the sudden memory, Brock had worn a shit eating grin for a week.

Shelly grinned before having to yawn. "Really! He was such a grump when he first stopped by the help desk, insufferable really, Y/N was the only one willing to talk to him," she tipped her head back as she leaned against the counter, facing the living room. "I swear, he likes to poke at her, but he really treats her carefully." She let out a light laugh, "he is smitten with her."

Blake nodded in agreement, "hey-" he greeted as both turned when there was a shuffling and you stood there, hair a jumbled mess. "Morning sunshine!" He grinned at you.

You hummed, eyes still half closed, and hushed them. "...Brock's still sleepy-" you mumbled.

Shelly caught your face in her hands and pinched your cheeks. "I need to get going, I need to get my morning workout done before I head in!"

You nodded as Blake handed you a cup and started his own as Shelly hurried as quietly as possible to gather her items. "Listen, I need to get in early too, make sure that guy gets you some food okay? I'll see you at work, text me otherwise!" He finished his coffee in two large gulps and followed Shelly around, "I'll give you a ride!" He whispered.

She nodded and both stopped to hug you, "it's good to know that he will take care of you," she winked at you happily, Blake ushering her out with a grin.

You stared after them before plucking up the courage to peek into your room where Brock was still sleeping. He liked the smell of your shampoo… It made you feel soft.

He made you feel good, safe, wanted.

You stared as he slept and shook your head, you needed to get ready for work. What if he caught you staring? You hurried to get your phone and opened it to find a message from Shelly. Opening it you felt your face heat as you stared at a picture of you and Brock sleeping soundly in your bed.

"Mornin'," Brock greeted, voice rough with sleep as he sat up, hair a complete mess.

You squeaked and murmured a quick morning hurrying to your bathroom and locking the door behind you. You stared at the picture, heart slamming against your ribcage, a small delirious smile finding its place on your lips.

#bullish #ch 10 #brock rumlow #brock x reader #avenger au

[yourtamaki]

hate sanjis manwhore ass so much 😒😒 just want him to lick at my clothed cunt and beg me to take off my panties but not because he can taste ur cunt better but jsut so he can steal them and keep em to himself <3 obv after he tongue fucks u into oblivion 🖕🏾 stupid man thing

- 🧚🏾‍♀️

this smacked me over the head and left me unconscious hnnnng warnings: panty thief sanji, oral (f!receiving), facesitting

sanji thinks he’ll hit his limit one day.

one day, his insatiable hunger for you will wane, he’ll have his fill of hearing you cry out his name and he’ll learn to live with the scorching flame you ignite in his chest that lives him red-faced and breathless at the mere sight of your smile.

today is not that day.

today, the entire crew is out exploring the island leaving sanji alone on the ship to prepare dinner and all he can think about as he bustles around the kitchen is you. he throws a bag of flour over his shoulder and remembers how good it felt to have your legs there last night. he rolls out pastry dough and imagines it’s your soft skin he’s kneading beneath his fingers. he hears you in the sizzle of the pan and the gentle simmer of the pot and it’s all he can do to pretend the tightness in his pants doesn’t exist and the flush in his face is from the steam that bellows out from the boiling broth.

by the time dinner is ready sanji has worked himself up so much it’s all he can do not to sprint to your room after he’s cleaned up and dive face first onto your side of the bed. all at once, he’s drowning in your scent, lungs filled and aching with need as he slowly ruts his hips against the mattress but yet he still needs more.

he’s too far gone to feel even an inkling of shame as roots through your laundry basket and searches for his prize. he’s not doing anything wrong, is he? how many times has he buried his face between your legs? bringing the lacy fabric to his nose only makes this feel all the more right. he knows this smell, knows this taste intimately and it’s the best solution he’s going to find to settle the unbearable itch under his skin until you’re back in his arms again.

sanji settles onto the bed once more, laying on his back as he unbuckles his pants and pulls his cock out. the trickle of humiliation that runs down his spine isn’t enough to cut through the riptide of pleasure that washes over him when he spits into his palm and wraps his hand around his cock. he times his breaths with his strokes, inhaling the sweet scent of you on the upstrokes and exhaling on the down.

that’s how you find him minutes, maybe hours later for all sanji knows, too lost to keep track of something as trivial as time. you walk in to see him a mess on the bed, fist a blur over his cock, panting and moaning with your panties laying across his face. all it takes is him stuttering out a plea for you to make your way over to him, pulling the panties from his face, straddling his waist and smiling down at him.

“you miss me, baby?” you ask, hiking up your skirt and shifting until your clothed cunt is hovering above his head. “or did you only miss her?”

“both. missed you both so fucking much.” he strains his neck trying to get his mouth on you only for you to place yourself just out of reach.

“really? cause it seems like you only wanna see her right now. you didn’t even say hi to me.” he knows the pout in your voice is fake, that you’re only teasing him but it doesn’t stop a swirl of guilt from settling in his stomach. sanji presses a lingering kiss to your knee, working his way up your thigh before turning his head and giving your other leg the same treatment.

“i missed you.” your gaze softens at the sincerity in his words and you reach out to smooth back his hair.

“show me then.”

it’s the only warning he gets before you pull your panties to the side and lower yourself down, resting your full weight on his face. sanji thinks he’s in heaven until he feels you wrap a familiar lacy fabric around his cock and take him above the clouds of paradise.

he realizes just how much all the substitutes he’d had to settle for all day pale in comparison. the sack of flour didn’t writhe and buck on him, his fingers didn’t sink into the dough like they do into your thighs and your old panties didn’t come close to how addicting it is to drink from the source.

as you rock your swollen clit against his outstretched tongue, sanji ponders that maybe his love doesn’t come from food but instead in consumption. he has no other explanation of why the feeling of your cunt pulsing in his mouth is the closest hes ever come to filling the insatiable void that urges him to have more, more, more of you. as much as he can get away with taking.

he catches the faraway look in your eyes as he sends you hurtling into your first high of the night and knows that if this is the result, you wouldn’t mind if he was a little greedy.

#🧚🏾‍♀️.anon #sanji smut #sanji x reader #one piece smut #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji x reader

[deexchanel]

Mr. Spooky.

Word Count:

Pairing: Oscar Diaz 'Spooky' x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Arguing.

Summary: Summer used to be Spooky's girlfriend until before he went to jail, he decides to cheat. Summer never wants to see them again until she decided to get drunk.

A/N: Yall I don't think the summary goes with it but I'm adding new things to my masterlist. I love other fandoms and not just marvel. So please enjoy!

Summer stumbles down the street not really knowing where she was going. She was trying to go back home from a party but that didn't really work out right. It was around 2:30 in the morning so who knows what was lurking around.

"Summer? What are you doing out so late?"Cesar questioned climbing out of Monse's window. If it wasn't for Summer's loud heels, he would've never known she was walking around.

"Me ? out? whooooo say shitttt like that. Cesar is that you?" Summer stumbles over to Cesar, who caught her when she got closer.

"I'm going to call Oscar to come get us because this is the wrong way to your house." Cesar comfort while trying to hold on to her and call Oscar. He picked up the phone in seconds telling Cesar he was on the way to get both of them.

A group of men was walking down the street from the corner store obviously drunk. Cesar mentally curses praying that they just walk past. As they got closer the catcalling started.

"Whew, mama you're fine!"

"Lemme holla at you"

"Damn she's fine"

"Nah she's good you guys," Cesar told them trying to be nice but they weren't having it.

"Let us take her off your hands. I promise we'll be nice." One said and the whole crew start to laugh. Cesar rolled his eyes and start to walk away with Summer. The man grabs Cesar by his jacket yanking him back.

"Aye, what the fuck is your problem?" Cesar yelled in his face. 3 of the men grabbed Cesar to jump him while the other two were being touchy with Summer.

"Stop touching me!" Summer screamed hitting him but one of the men smacked her.

"Bitch stop moving. It won't last long." He said while attaching his lips to her neck. The other one was rubbing his hands all over her thighs and slowly up her dress. Cesar tried to fight back but it was too many of them.

"After we done knocking you out, we're definitely having some fun with her." One man said while repeatedly punching Cesar in the face. Cesar felt weak, he couldn't even help Summer.

The red impala drove up to the sidewalk, Oscar instantly getting out of the car. He held his gun up while Beamer and Studio held their guns out the window.

(I made up my own Los Santos members lmaoo.)

"You guys must not know who block this is or who y'all fucking with?" Spooky sneered looking at how they had their hands on Summer. The men stopped what they're doing scared off their asses.

"Um .. Uhh" One man stuttered, falling over his words.

"Oh, man. They're fucking with some folks that they don't even know. That's funny ain't it Beamer." Spooky laughed in a dangerous manner, he glanced over to Beamer. Beamer laughed along with him cocking his gun. "Really funny."

"Hand over my girl and little brother in 5 seconds." Spooky took his gun off safety, taking a step forward. The men handed over Cesar who helped Summer to the car.

"Get 'em." Spooky nodded his head towards Studio then got in the car. When the gunshots went off, Summer flinched since the sound was so close. Oscar grabbed Summer, pulling her close to him, hoping that would calm her nerves.

-------

Oscar laid Summer in the bed after changing her clothes and taking off her makeup. Since the Los Santos's house was getting fixed most of the members stayed at Oscar's house. He didn't mind but it did mean that him and Cesar had to share a room.

Cesar walked into the room wrapped and bandaged up. Spooky took time to look at his baby brother thanking everything up above that he was okay and walking around.

"Cesar what the hell were you thinking. Why didn't you take Summer inside of Monse's house instead of waiting on me outside? You could've been killed, Cesar!" Spooky whisper- yell to not wake up Summer.

"I don't know Oscar. I wasn't thinking okay? I'm sorry," Cesar sulked as tears threaten to fall from his eyes. Oscar hugged Cesar to calm him down.

"No matter where you at. Go to safety and wait on me. I'm always going to come. But right now get you some sleep okay?"

Cesar nodded his head before getting in the bed beside Summer. Spooky sat in the reclining chair watching his two most important people sleep.

----------

Summer gasp awake seeing if that last night was a dream. But sadly it wasn't and it was really freaking her out.

It felt like the food she had last night was coming back up so she ran to the bathroom that was in the hallway. Cesar rolled out of bed on the floor since Summer awoke suddenly.

"H-Huh? Summer?"

Oscar heard the two suddenly awake, he came back into the room to check on them.

"You good?" Oscar asked passing Summer ibuprofen. She gladly accepted it sitting back on the cold bathroom floor.

"Breakfast in the kitchen, be there in five." Oscar simply said before walking back to the kitchen where the rest of the members were at. Summer nodded not really wanting to talk to him.

To go back a couple of months, Summer and Oscar had a perfect relationship. Until a couple of weeks before he went to jail he decided to cheat on her. They haven't talked since and didn't have any plans on becoming back cool.

"Crap!." Summer groaned going through his clothes hoping there were still some of her clothes there.

Sadly the only thing she could find was the dress that she wore when they had a date at the beach. Summer walked downstairs to see everybody make their plates so she did the same.

When she was done fixing her food, she noticed all the chairs at the table were full, along with the couches.

"Princessa, you can sit right here." Oscar pointed at his lap.

"No, I'm fine with standing up." Summer waved him off, sitting on his lap was a no-go. She turned around leaning on the counter, taking a bite out of her waffle.

Before Summer could take another bite, her waist was grabbed as she was picked up, along with her plate. She was sitting in Oscar's lap.

" Why would you- you know what, never mind. I don't even feel like arguing." Summer said nonchalantly and continued to finish her food.

"We weren't going to argue. I don't want to." Oscar spoke in a low tone so only she could hear.

"Well every time we talk, it leads to an argument. So, therefore, I'm going keep my mouth close." Summer didn't even bother to look him in the eyes.

When she was done eating, Summer got up getting everyone's dish that was still on the table. She felt a lot of eyes on her but ignored it and continued to clean up. 

Summer dropped some trash on accident so she bends over to pick it up.

She felt a hard smack on her ass making her yelp. Oscar wasted no time putting the glock to Smokey's face.

"Yea you fucking with the right one."Oscar clenched his jaws Summer didn't want to see any violence today, she grabbed his arm and it seem to calm him down a little.

"She isn't yours and when you did have her, you fucked it up so I don't mind stepping in. Summer is bad and you know it. Your lost, not mine." Smokey smirked at me which pissed Spooky off more.

Oscar hit him with the butt of the glock. "Get out of here. Now!"

Smokey walked out of the house holding his face. It was the truth though. Summer wasn't his, he fucked it up sleeping with that hoe.

"Summer listen..." Oscar started but she had walked back to the room so she could get her clothes. He tries again. "Summer.."

"Stop calling my name, I hear you Spooky." Summer packed up her clothes, ready to get out of this house and away from him.

"To you my name is Oscar and you know that."

"Do it look like I give a damn?"

He saw her packing everything she left over there. "Where you going?? You stay across town and I'm not going to let you ride the bus."

"I don't care what you don't want me to do. I'm leaving here, I can't stand being around you!"

"Good I can't stand being around your irritating ass either. Get the fuck out."

Summer got into his face, "I'll gladly get the fuck out. I didn't want to see yo hoe ass anyway. Fuck you."

"My hoe ass? You the one at the parties like I don't exist." Oscar stood closer to her, their eye contact held tension.

"You cheated on me, Oscar?! You cheated on me with that hoe Miranda so I'm single as hell and will do whatever the fuck I want to."

Oscar missed everything about Summer. Her smile, the love she gave him. Summer did everything for him, the best way she could. He fucked up everything.

Oscar placed his lips onto Summer's. She was caught off guard but instantly fell back into it. Her hands caressed his cheek, deepening the kiss Realization clicked and Summer pulled back from the kiss.

"You can't do this to me, Oscar. You cheated on me and expect me to fall right back under your spell? You couldn't muster up the balls to apologize. I would say I can't believe this but this action coming from you, I definitely can believe it." Summer's lip trembles to try to hold in her tears.

"Summer... I.." Oscar's pride starts to kick in which was no shock to her.

Summer picked up her things and left out the door leaving Oscar stuck.

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

Yall Ian know how to end it but oh well. Oscar ass should've never cheatedd.

Fuck boys ain't it!

I'll come back and add more tags later.

lmaoo stay slutty my friends.

#spooky #omb s4 #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x reader #on my block

[harley-michaels-main]

Fondness of Fondue

Summary: Rumor has it, chocolate is the food of love.

Pairing: Bokuto Kotaro x Plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: Bokuto and Atsumu dumbassery, hand kisses

A/n: Ayo, this is my work for @ceo-of-daichi Curves and Kisses event! Enjoy! And congrats again Lydia on your milestone!

He first met you when he went with Atsumu to get a present for his current partner. "Why do I have to go with you?" He whined. He had just gone along so he could get a ride to practice.

"Because I need someone who knows what good chocolate is."

"And you think I know?" Kotaro questioned.

"No, Akaashi does and ya have his phone number."

"Wha-You're using me for Akaashi's phone number?!"

"Yep," Atsumu replied with a laugh. Kotaro huffed as the two of them entered the shop.

"Hi, welcome in!" As soon as his eyes locked with yours, he knew he was screwed. Your smile and rosy cheeks, the crinkles by your eyes, the way your uniform hugged your body. He was screwed.

Kotaro turned his eyes away from you as his cheeks flushed. Cute...

"Bokuto? Oi, Bokuto, ya listening to me?" Kotaro blinked when Atsumu smacked the side of his head lightly. "Jeez, yer always spacing off. Ya good?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, yeah!" He responded quickly. Atsumu raised a brow at him but nonetheless turned his attention toward you.

"How can I help you?" You questioned, leaning on the counter. Kotaro's eyes followed your figure, his cheeks burning, even more, when he noticed you were watching him.

"Yeah, do ya have anything good for anniversaries?" Atsumu asked, smiling casually.

"Of course! Do you have any specific taste in mind?" You asked, tilting your head to the side a bit. So cute!!

Kotaro decided to draw his attention elsewhere, looking at the displays of chocolate to distract him. It was hard to focus when someone so adorable kept looking at him.

For some reason, his eyes kept going back to you. He couldn't help it. Not when you kept smiling and being so cute.

"Is your friend okay?" You asked, glancing at Kotaro. You weren't going to lie. He was attractive... Very attractive. But you didn't appreciate the stares.

"Honestly, no clue. He's a bit weird," Atsumu replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Never seen him act like that before," He stated with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Do you think you could ask him to stop staring at me? It's not very polite," You inquired, shuffling behind one of the display stands to try to hide.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him," Atsumu replied before walking over to Kotaro. "Oi, stop staring. Yer freaking em out."

"I-I'm not staring!" Kotaro stuttered out, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Atsumu sighed with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just stop being weird," He stated as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What's goin' on with ya anyway? Ya like them or some- Oh shit you like- hrmf!"

"Shut up!" Kotaro cried as he slapped a hand over Atsumu's mouth. The two wrestled around, Atsumu trying to get rid of Kotaro's hand and Kotaro trying to keep him quiet.

"Please, no fighting in the store!" The pair froze as they looked at you, who was narrowing your eyes at them. They quickly stepped away from each other, both pairs of cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Our apologies. I'm headin' out, but my friend here wants to apologize for starin'," Atsumu stated, pushing Kotaro forward before making a break to the door.

"Wha- Atsumu wait!" Kotaro turned around just as Atsumu ran outside. He sighed before turning around to face you. You raised a brow, wondering what the hell just happened.

Kotaro swallowed the lump in his throat as he stepped closer to you. "Um... I'm sorry for staring. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I... I just-"

"Just what? Thought it would be fun to stare at me?" You questioned, crossing your arms. You weren't new to people staring at you. You knew that you were a bigger person. You had your fair share of stares and comments in your life. The difference now is that you weren't going to let people get away with it anymore.

"I mean yeah- Wait no no no, that's not what I meant!" Kotaro fussed. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"I don't want to hear it anymore. Just get out of my store," You stated, pointing toward the front door.

"Wait, I'm sorry, that really isn't what I meant!" Kotaro pleaded. Why isn't anything coming out correctly?!

"Oh really? What did you mean then?" You asked sarcastically.

"I meant that you're really pretty and attractive! I'm really sorry for making you feel uncomfortable I'm just really attracted to you and didn't know if I should ask you out or not. But I totally understand if you don't want to!"

"Wait-"

"Like seriously, I totally understand. I didn't mean anything bad and I'm really sorry for coming across that way-"

"Wait a minute," You cut him off, trying to wrap your thoughts around what just happened. "You were staring because you're attracted to me?"

"Uh... yeah?" Kotaro questioned, not quite sure how to respond. You couldn't stop the smile or the laughter that erupted from your chest. Kotaro blushed again. He swore that his heart skipped a beat.

"Okay um, well thank you. I'm sorry for the way I acted."

"No, no don't apologize! I get it. It was so rude of me to stare like that, I'm really sorry," Kotaro apologized for the umpteenth time as he bowed deeply.

"It's fine. It was rude, but as long as you didn't have any ill intentions I guess I can't be mad at you."Kotaro slowly stood up straight, smiling awkwardly. "What's your name?"

"Bokuto Kotaro!" You chuckled at his enthusiasm.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Bokuto. I'm Y/n L/n," You responded, holding out your hand for him to shake. Kotaro smiled brightly as he gently took your hand.

"The pleasure's all mine." It was your turn to blush this time. "If it's alright for me to ask... Would you like to go out sometime?" Kotaro questioned. You bit your lip softly to try to contain your smile.

"I would love to. I close at 8 pm tomorrow if you would like to come back then," You suggested. Kotaro's eyes lit up.

"That sounds perfect. I'll be here at 8! I'll see you tomorrow!" He exclaimed.

"I'll see you tomorrow," You responded before you realized that you were still holding each other's hand. Kotaro seemed to notice as well, but he didn't let go.

"I'm really sorry again," He said as he pulled your hand and pressed a small kiss to the back of it. "I hope I can make it up to you tomorrow night." Your eyes widened as you froze in your place. This smooth fucker...

"Uh... Y-yeah, me too." Your voice cracked as you responded. Kotaro smiled one last time before he let go of your hand and left the shop. You stared at the back of your hand as your cheeks flushed a dark red. "Oh god, that was a fever dream..."

Kotaro got into Atsumu's car, staring forward as he tried to wrap his mind around what just happened. "So? What happened?" Atsumu asked, excitedly. Kotaro didn't respond. "Bokuto? Oi, ya good man?"

Kotaro fell forward, his head hitting the dashboard. "Bokuto?! Oi, Bokuto?! Oh shit, shit, Akaashi's gonna kill me- Oi, you good? Please be good, c'mon man."

"I have a date..."

"Eh?" Atsumu froze.

"I have a date tomorrow..."

"... Dude we leave tomorrow for an away game."

#curvesandkissescollab💋 #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader fluff #bokuto kotaro x reader fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu!! #hq #hq!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyu!! x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! fluff

[buttsmasher]

This story is for @tyohlerrr. I think you'll really enjoy this one. He submitted a fucking sexy photo to go along with this story. Take a peak here.

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Farting, Gay Farting, Farting on Tongue, Willing Victim, Teasing, Musk, Musk Play

Today has been one of the roughest days since you’ve joined the army. You and Booker somehow pissed off your commanding officer again and were made to run until he told you stop.

“Yo Books.” You say as you jog next to your partner.

“Sup?” He keeps looking ahead, following the track with ease.

“Is your ass sweating as bad as mine right now?” Booker looks over at you and laughs.

“It’s probably worse man. That shit in the canteen is fucking with my guts.” Booker stops and lifts his leg up.

PFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Your heartbeat quickens, as you watch Booker get back to his previous speed. “Fuck man, sounds rough.” You joke trying not to let your mind wander.

“I’d hate to be behind me right now, the Booker brew is toxic.”

“I know, that’s why our barracks smells like shit all the time.”

PSSSSSSSSSSS

An airy fart hisses from him as he continues his jogging. “Fuck.” Booker huffs. “I’m telling ya man, once I’m on leave, I’m finding myself a pig slut and letting him go to town.”

“What?” You laugh confused.

“You ever had a fag eat out your hole?”

“I ain’t gay man.”

“I ain’t either. I’m just saying though, you get one of those piggy fags, hoo-wee. They know how to make you come just by using their tongues.” You stare at him briefly wondering if he knows your secret. When you’re about to pass Sarge you hear Booker let out another loud fart.

“God dammit Booker!” Sarge yells and you can’t help burst out in laughter. Booker reaches out for a fist bump, which you oblige.

“Good timing man!”

“You know I’m a pro.”

You go back to focus on your breathing and how fast you're moving when Booker surprises you: “I saw you sniffing my boxers.” You nearly trip over yourself as the realization of what he just said hits you.

“What are you talking about?” You feign.

“Two nights ago, when I went to shower.” Fuck he really did see you. “I saw you pick em off the ground and huff on them.”

“Sorry man, I-I don’t-”

“It’s no biggie man, I ain’t judging.”

“It’s just-”

“You’re a little piggy and you need to get my stink in you.” He interrupts again.

“Shut up.” You go to push him but he deflects you easily.

“Look if you want to sniff my drawers it’s cool. But I can probably offer you something better.” His mischievous smile intrigues you.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s just say, when we get back-”

“Keep running maggots! Don’t slow down!” Sarge yells as you pass him again.

“I swear to god if I just had one day with him.” Booker balls his hands into a fist.

“When we get back what?” You can’t contain your excitement which makes Booker give you a smug smile. “Fuck.” You say realizing how you sound.

“So you horny-horny.” Booker laughs.

“Fuck off man! I like what I like.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be under my fat ass in no time. Hope you like rotten eggs.”

“I-I.” You stutter as you watch Booker pick up his pace and runs ahead of you. That’s when the scent hits you. You swear it smells like a skunk just sprayed someone and you cough as you fail to catch back up to him. “Fuckin’ hell man!” You yell and he gives his ass a smack while he keeps running.

After an hour and half of running, Sarge finally tells you to stop running and sends you back to your barracks where you find Booker. He’s standing there shirtless, sweat glistening off his body, and his ass is hanging out from his shorts. “Nice outfit.” You joke as you throw off your sweaty shirt.

“You think so? Thought I could wear it out tonight.” He quips as he uses his hands to jiggle his ass. You shake your head as you pull off your boots. “You think you can handle this?”

“Hell yeah, your ass ain’t anything special.”

“Oh we’ll see about that.” He pushes you onto your bed and sits down on your stomach. “I kept it nice and ripe for you piggy.” He drags his bare ass up your body and then slowly back down.

“I ain’t no piggy.” You use your hands to grab ahold of his buttcheeks.

“You will be after I’m done.” You pull his cheeks apart to be gifted with a short airy fart.

PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

The warm gust of air escapes from his ass blowing across your exposed stomach, making you shiver. “You like that?” He gives you the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Stop teasing man.” You groan.

“Just warnin’ ya, I’m gassy as fuck!”

“Like I just said, your ass ain’t special.”

“Aight then.” He laughs as he twists around to plant his bubble butt right on your face. It’s musky as hell and much, much better than his boxers. You take some deep breaths as he squirms around to get comfortable. “Just remember you wanted this.” His hole gets into place right against your waiting.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

An airy fart gets blown against your nose smelling like that rotten fart he let earlier. It’s extremely overwhelming and you’re immediately seeing stars.

“Fuck man!” You cough out. “That’s rank!” You pull away slightly but he uses the opportunity to push your head so it’s trapped between his ass and the bed.

“I told ya! Didn’t wanna listen.” He pulls off his shorts completely to let his dick free. Your mind goes to the same place and you attempt to pull your sweats down over your now hard cock.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

Another quiet and airy fart gets blown across your ready face and you let out a loud moan as you take a large inhale. It smells like rotten eggs and old meat. “Lunch ain’t sittin’ right, all the better for you huh?” Booker jokes as he shakes his ass on your face.

PFFFFBBBBRBRBRBRRRRR

“See, that was wet as fuck.” Booker laughs as you cough the wet fart down. You groan, but continue to keep sniffing loudly as you slowly stroke your hard cock.

“It smells great down here.” You struggle to get out. “This ain’t nothing.”

“You’re disgusting. To think I was holding all these in for you.” He hikes his leg a little higher.

PFFFFFFFBBFFFFFFTTT

“I mean, who actually enjoys this shit?” He laughs as you can feel him stroking his hard cock. The toxic fumes assault all of your senses making your eyes water and your nose burn. “Fuck that stinks.” He waves a hand in front of his face. “That’s worse than normal.”

“Yeah.” You agree as you struggle to hold back the bile that’s burning it’s way up your throat. “I love it.”

“You sound like you’re struggling down there. Need me to stop?” Booker says, concern in his voice. You remove your hand from your cock to wrap your arms around him so he doesn’t move.

“I’m fine. Give me more.”

“If you say so.” You move one of your hands back to your cock as the other pulls and squeezes his massive ass. A silent fart graces your nose making your eyes flutter as you take the rotten smell into your lungs.

“Fuck Books, you smell so good.” You can hear him laughing above you but he doesn’t say anything. And by the way he’s shaking he’s getting off on this as well. “Seriously man,” You take another large inhale. “You’re addicting.”

“Just admit it dude, you’re a piggy.”

“Not…*sniff* a piggy.” He laughs.

PFFFFFF PFFFFFFFF PFFFF

He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Can’t lie, feels good gettin’ all this out.”

“I bet.” You smack his large ass. “Let me eat you out.”

“Run that by me one more time.”

“Let me, eat your, oh so beautiful ass out.” You say mockingly.

“I don’t know piggy. It’s kinda dangerous down there, you sure you want your tongue near that?” You don’t even respond, you just swipe your tongue against his musky ass. “Oh fuck.” Booker moans above you as he grabs onto the bed for support. “Do that again.” You do as he says and his back arches even further.

PFFFFFFF

“Fuuck.” He groans as you struggle with the terrible taste he left on your tongue. “Okay, yeah, keep doin’ that.” You don’t argue, you just keep swiping your tongue on his dirty hole and every few swipes you poke your tongue into his ass. “Shit, we should’ve been doing this, uhhh, sooner.” His body is twitching above you. “I got a big one coming piggy. Fuck, get your tongue out” You can hear his stomach rumbling, but you refuse to pull your tongue out eager to get a taste.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTFFFTTTTTTT

The loud 15 second fart gets ripped right against your tongue and your mind goes haywire. The taste is god awful, making your thrash and attempting to push him off you. At the same time you can hear him groaning loudly as you feel him shooting his load all over your chest and stomach. You’re not far behind him cumming in your hands, shooting the largest load you think you’ve ever shot.

Immediately as you finish shooting everywhere, you start thrashing about again to get him off you. He gyrates his hips for a few moments until he notices that you’re not moving as much. He pulls off you and takes a look at you.

“Shit, are you okay?” You give him a thumbs up as you cough. “I think you’ve had enough.” He says helping you sit up from the bed.

“Fuck.” You manage to get out as you look at him. He just shakes his head and pulls his shorts back up.

“You’re fucked up man.”

“Yeah, probably.” His scent is lingering and you know you’re going to be tasting that ass for at least another day.

“You need a shower more than I do.” You punch his arm but he’s probably right.

“Told you I can take it.” You brag.

“Don’t push it. I have more in my tank.” Booker gives you a hard pat on the back.

PFFFBBBRRRRR

He makes an effort to fan the fart towards you and you just laugh. “See you in the shower?” You nod and follow him, where you get to play with his ass just a little more.

[shorkbrian]

Jerk

Oh Jesus y’all I can’t handle these thirsts they’re making em flustered as heck oh no.

oh frick but really doe Bakugou is soooo mean and he’s probably the type that’s into degrading and humiliating his partner, totally has dacryphilia and can’t get off unless you’re crying big, fat, salty tears. He honestly likes you, likes having you around and enjoys your additions in class discussion. But you’re just so easy to bully, he can’t help himself. He tells you it’s your fault, if you put up more of a fight he’d back off. If you didn’t just take his insults and jabs at your character lying down, he’d leave you alone. But he never would. nasty dude.

(College au lol)

TW - noncon, NSFW, handjob, crying, Bakugou is not nice but what's new.

Sometimes he’ll corner you on campus, knows you have evening classes and waits to haul you behind the building as soon as your class ends. Talking to you in a quiet, dangerous voice as he forces you back there, his hot hands gripping your arm (far too tightly), his erection brushing against your ass with each agonizing step.

“Hey (Y/N), you little bitch, did’ya miss me? No? Too bad.”

“You better shut your whore mouth, don’t want the entire campus knowing how much of slut you are. Saying “stop” isn’t going to make me do anything but fuck you harder, stupid bitch.”

“What’re you gonna do, tell someone? Who’s gonna believe a pathetic little extra like you, hmm? I’m their quarterback baby, they can’t afford to lose me. No, you’ll fucking do whatever I say.”

Once behind the building, pressed against the wall, he’ll slap your face, once, twice. Red paints your cheeks, and you’re already crying at the sting. Bakugou just grins, enjoying every second as he squishes your face in his hand, bringing his face close to yours. So close, you can feel each hot puff of air on his every exhale. So close, you can see the beauty of his ruby red eyes, darker maroon flecking the bright iris. Pity Bakugou was so mean.

A beat passed, the two of you just looking at each other, breathing each other’s air. Then he kissed you, mashing your lips together, squeezing your jaw until you opened your mouth, let him inside like you always did.

When he pulled away, you were gasping for air, hand coming up to wipe at the tears streaming down your face. Bakugou huffed, before planting both hands on your chest and pushing. You let out a distressed cry as you were shoved backwards, loosing your balance and falling down into the dirt. You’d probably have bruises later. Who were you kidding, you were with Bakugou. Of course you’d have bruises later.

The blonde crouched down, cocking his head to the side as he watched you, eery smile on his face. You didn’t like that look. You scrambled backwards, pushing at the dirt and scuffing your hands until your back hit a wall. Bakugou stayed where he was.

“You’re so fucking stupid, only thing you’re good at is being a shitty little toy for others to push around. You realize that? That’s all you are. Nothing. Worthless little pussy on legs.”

His words stung, and you had to scrub at your eyes again, wiping away the fresh wave of tears. In doing so, you didn’t notice him stand up, stalk closer, until he was towering over your sitting form. When he “tch’ed” you jumped, looking up.

“Get the fuck up.”

You hesitated.

A hand grabbed your hair, Bakugou’s face twisting into a snarl.

“Now.”

You rose as quickly as possible, finding yourself face-to-face with your aggressor once again. Well, face-to-chest. Then you were flipped around, shoved against the wall of the building as hands began kneading at your chest.

“Mmm, shit baby, you’re always so damn soft.”

A gasp escaped you when he started pinching, grasp becoming firmer and more demanding until it hurt, the man pulling at your chest now. The hard, considerable bulge of his erection was humping against your ass slowly, as if Bakugou was savoring each little thrust of his hips.

“So easy. Bet you would bend over for anyone who asked, wouldn’t you? Slut. You’re just a little cockwhore, ain’t that right?”

He took a few steps back, pulling you with him until he could bend you at the waist, still grinding against you. But in this position, his cock was pressed against your clothed cunt, delivering delicious friction to your clit. You resisted the urge to wriggle your hips in order to chase that feeling. “Hey - “  A slap landed across your ass, and even through your jeans, you could feel it burn. “I asked you a question bitch. Answer me.”

You whimpered.

“Y-y-yes Bakugou..... I am.”

“You’re what? I didn’t quite hear that last part. ”

You could hear the sneer in his voice, wincing at the pressure as Bakugou groped at your chest.

“A-a cockwhore.”

“Fuck yeah you are, I can feel you getting wet down here.” He pulled away from your body, lending you relief for a half a second before he smacked your cunt, hard. “You’re so desperate!”

He was gleeful as he turned you around again, pushing you into the wall. He was always pushing. Pushing over your books the first time he met you, pushing your boundaries, pushing for you to come up to his dorm while his roommates are out, pushing your sanity.

You shuddered as the blond unzipped his jeans, groaning as the zipper pressed against his dick as he pulled it down.

Closing your eyes, you swallowed. You didn’t know what he was going to do next, didn’t want to see the manic look on his face as he decided which part of your body to get off on today.

You weren’t surprised when you felt his hands grab yours. He pushed himself flush against you, and you knew without looking that his cock was standing up proudly, bobbing against his stomach. If you breathed in too far, expanded your lungs, your could feel it twitch against your abdomen. You tried to take short breaths.

His hands guided yours to wrap around his dick, and the second you felt the hot flesh touch your hand, that’s when the waterworks really started. You were crying uncontrollably as Bakugou forced your hands around him, thrusting upwards shallowly, head dropping to your shoulder with a choked-off groan. He wasn’t squeezing your hands too tight, enjoying the soft, loose grip for now.

When the man grew impatient of this, he let go of one of your hands, reaching up at swipe at your face. He was trying to wet his hand with your tears.

‘C’mon (Y/N), keep crying.”

You were bawling, tears dripping off your chin, snot beginning to flow from your nose. Just like Bakugou liked it. He kept on wiping at your face, collecting the tears and snot and drool, before rubbing his hand on his cock. Then he’d make you jerk him, testing to see if it was wet enough for his comfort. The more time passed, the more tears fell.

It took a bit, but finally Bakugou was satisfied with the amount of wetness coating his cock. Grabbing your free hand again, he guided it back to his cock. When you struggled to rip our hands away, his grip just tightened, crushing your digits between his hands and his cock.

There was no preamble, no gentle beginning. Bakugou was thrusting like a mad-man, head once again on your shoulder. You could hear him moaning softly, above the slick sounds of the messy handjob. It was sickening. 

When his hips kicked up another notch, plump balls smacking into your wrists with each thrust, you knew he was close. It took just a few more frantic pumps of his hips before Bakugou was spilling over, hot cum dripping out, leaking onto your hands and dripping down to your shoes.

You tried to pull away again, letting out a desperate sob as Bakugou kept your hands anchored, his hips still moving, almost grinding himself up into your hands. His breath was stuttered, heavy and panting in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, oh that felt damn good.”

Finally he released your hands. 

Reigning back in your sobs, you looked at them, fingers dripping and palm wet and sticky with the mans cum. You hated him so much.

The sound of pants being zippered drew your attention, head snapping up to look at Bakugou. He was watching you intently, wiping his own hands against his jeans. A sigh of relief. Usually he tried to fuck you, or get you off. It looked like tonight he would be satisfied with just a handjob. You were going to go shower until your skin peeled off, then sleep for a day or two, classes be damned.

“Wipe it onto your slutty little cunt.”

...

“What?? B-b-bakugou you-”

“Wipe it onto your. cunt.”

He leveled you with a glare, hands crossing over his chest. You were frozen.

“Geez bitch, do I need to do it for you? Just fuckin’ wipe that shit onto your pussy, it’s not that hard.”

Trembling, you obeyed, wincing was you stuffed your hands past your jeans, past your underwear. You cringed when you felt how wet your slit was, how inflamed and puffy you felt down there from Bakugou’s teasing rutting earlier. Bakugou watched with a smirk as you pressed your hands against yourself, doing your best to wipe off his cum. 

When you finished, the man looped an arm around your waist, causing you to squeak in alarm. You recoiled from his touch, breathing hard, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What, you thought you were done? Thought a fuckin’ lame excuse for a handjob would satisfy me? God - “ He snickered loudly, beginning to pull you along, forced to walk beside him “ - You really are a stupid slut.”

You bit your lip, tears still wetting your lashes. It was uncomfortable to walk with the amount of wet in your underwear, the thought of Bakugou’s cum just sitting there making your stomach roll, tensing.

“Can’t wait ‘till we get back to my place; shitty roommates are gone for a few days, thank fuck. Can finally try edging you all night, use your body like a toy and shit like that. Fuck, I’m excited.”

You were going to throw up. 

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #bully #bully Bakugou #mean Bakugou #what's new lol #tw noncon #tw dubcon #bakugou #yanderebakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader

[britishassistant]

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

#ask #twisted wonderland #twst #supervillain au #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #royal flush #ace trappola #twst ace #deuce spade #twst deuce #trey clover #twst trey #cater diamond #twst cater #chenya #twst chenya #riddle x yuu #twisted wonderland grim #twst grim #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu