#i should get points for pushing through like this

[saeist]

it’s complicated ── bakugo k. (3.4k) ⊹ ࣪ ˖ part one

“kats..” you murmur

“yeah?”

“what are we exactly?”

your voice cuts through the air. you can feel bakugo’s grip tighten around your body. like he froze in his spot right next to you in his bed.

“well, what do you want us to be?” his voice is gentle, yet there's an underlying tension. bakugo uses his free hand to tuck some hair that was getting in the way of your face. his thumb slowly caressing the apples of your cheeks as he stares into your eyes, bracing (and dreading) for your answer

this time you stay quiet. unsure how to answer or better yet, unsure how to get your point across to your... friend? semi lover? your situationship

you know yourself that you do like bakugo. again, he might be rough around the edges but you've learned to look past that and see him for who he is

bakugo is a lot more than what he shows on the surface

and you've been given the privilege to experience the side of bakugo katsuki that he hides

"well, i don't know either.." you say truthfully after giving it much thought in such notice (lies. you've been thinking about it since the slumber party happened)

unbeknownst to you, bakugo's heart drops. what do you mean you don't know what you want to be with him? did you not like him back? bakugo's almost certain you do. if you don't like him then why are you in bed with him? if you don't like him then why do you bother sticking around?

bakugo's thoughts are getting to him. you can tell with the way he's slowly unwrapping his arms around you and sits up.

for the first time, the air is suffocating. neither of you speak up on the situation that's brewing just from an innocent question about where your little relationship is heading

"i should leave.." you mutter, slowly pulling yourself off his bed and heading towards the door

"... yeah" bakugo rasps, almost like a whisper, looking away

there's a little ache in your heart when he didn't even bother stopping you. pursing your lips, you quietly leave his room to head back to yours

did you ruin whatever chances you had with your question?

the door closed behind you with a soft click, but it echoed loudly in your mind, marking the beginning of an uneasy distance.

—

the following day, the tension between you two becomes palpable during training.

the air is thick with unresolved tension. you were coincidentally paired with bakugo this time around and bakugo’s usual focus is a little disrupted. his movements remain sharp as they are but his usual techniques feel a little all over the place, almost as if he couldn't focus at all. obviously you notice but you’re hesitant to approach and you don't act on it. you ignored the way he was being a little rougher that you swore you were gonna get bruises at the end of the session.

midway through the intense spar, you have successfully pinned bakugo down after hitting him with your quirk and in that moment, you both lock eyes. there’s a flicker of something – hurt, longing, confusion – but neither of you speaks

bakugo uses your distraction to his advantage and changes the scene. this time it was you who was pinned on the ground.

ectoplasm, who was the teacher in charge for this training session has called it a tie between the two of you

you push bakugo off yourself as you walk away before bakugo could even offer his arm out for you to take. the whole class watches of course and they finally take notice of the on going tension between the two of you

something shifted in the air after that training session that it was slowly getting unbearable for everyone as the days pass by

—

for the next few days after that training session, you and bakugo were avoiding each other like the plague. turning to different directions whenever you two would bump into each other whether it be around the school halls or back at the dormitory

the lack of communication for the past few days gave you an ample amount of time to sort out your thoughts and feelings. after giving it some thoughts, you think you were now ready to face bakugo again to ask him the same question but this time you think you had an answer

although that goes all out the window when you spot him talking to someone who seemed to be from another department just outside campus on your way back to the dormitory

you quickly hid behind a nearby bush to watch everything unfold before your very eyes

bakugo has always been popular in campus. especially when he won first place during the school's sports festival but his popularity and reputation skyrocketed even further during the school festival where he showed the rest of the students that he's talented in all aspects even when it comes to musicality

so it was pretty safe to assume he had admirers around campus and you think you were about to witness a live confession

you note that the girl in front of him was holding some kind of paper bag. it looked like it was a gift. your stomach churns at the sight that you almost felt ill. swallowing whatever pride you had left, you continue to watch the two of them conversing

you watch bakugo look at her with wide eyes. like he was surprised or something, you couldn’t really tell. the girl fidgets with the gift bag before bursting into giggles

that was your last straw. with a sharp breath, you leave your hiding spot and stormed away. with each step you take, the heavier it feels than the last. almost as if you were carrying the weight of uncertainty and jealousy

—

once you arrived, the people who were lounging around in the living room could tell you were upset. you did slam the front doors shut and you may or may not have unintentionally set your quirk off by locking the doors in the process. the rest of the class who weren't home yet, had to get kirishima to break the locks off.

by the time bakugo arrived, he finds the front doors broken much to his surprise. shrugging, he heads inside to see his friends and your friends all huddled up

"do you guys think they broke up?"

"hold up.. they were dating?!"

"omg keep up kaminari! well we think they did but they didn't really confirm it"

"wait! no wonder they're not seen together anymore! bakugo does look a little-"

"looks a little what?!" bakugo cuts off kirishima mid sentence by making his presence known to the group. all the girls and kaminari scream in surprise before scrambling to get away, not wanting to feel bakugo's wrath now that he himself knows that they were talking about him behind his back

kirishima throws his arm over bakugo's shoulder, completely unfazed by his usual antics at this point.

"as i was saying, you look a little out of it for the past few days. something happened to ya?" kirishima asks, "just a little while ago, y/n came home all upset and seemed to lock the locks that i had to break it so the rest of you could come in" he continues

bakugo's eyes widened. fuck, he thinks to himself. bakugo's almost 99% sure why you were upset. he isn't dense as you think he is. he actually noticed you hiding behind the bushes when he was caught up with a student from a different course– who only came up to him to tell him that his zipper was all the way down before skipping back to her own friends

which was totally uncalled for as bakugo thinks

"earth to bakugo? anyone in there? or are the lights left open but nobody is home?" kirishima jokes, waves his hand around bakugo's face, breaking his trance

"shut up and mind your own damn business! all of you!" bakugo booms, loud enough that the girls who were hiding around could hear him

kirishima sighs, "now i don't know what's going on between you and y/n, but you guys need to talk. we don't like the tension going on and it's disrupting the class. talk to her, bro"

with that, kirishima walks away. bakugo could only stare at his back. he hates to admit it but kirishima is right. you guys do need to talk.

huffing, bakugo stomps his way towards his own room to change from his uniform and to formulate what he wants to say

—

meanwhile, amidst everything going on downstairs in the common area, you locked yourself in your room in attempt to calm yourself down.

"suppress it, y/n. it doesn't matter if someone else likes him! why would it matter to you anyway? you two aren't even a thing! friends don't get jealous over petty shit like this.." you sat in front of your dresser, repeatedly reminding yourself with your status with the blonde

suddenly you hear knocks on your door. you jolt up in surprise, totally not expecting anyone to check up on you after your little outburst. you looked in front of the mirror in case you had any makeup smeared or what not

the knocking gets louder by the minute and you scramble to open the door. when the door opens, you were met with all of the girls, who promptly invited themselves inside your room

"what's up..?" you say, unsure on what's going on

"what's up? what's up with you and bakugo is what's up! what's going on with the two of you?!" mina gets straight to the point, not even wasting a single second

at the mention of bakugo's name. your face sours

"nothing's going on" you sigh, not wanting to think about what happened just moments ago

"if nothing's going on then why do you look like that?" tsuyu questions

"like what?"

"like you're about to cry yourself to sleep!" mina exaggerates, pointing a finger at your face

did you really look that miserable?

with a deep sigh, you flop down on your bed, staring at the ceiling

"i think i like him" you start, feeling embarrassed to even say it out loud

"you think?!" mina reacts, lying down next to you

"mina! let her talk first" uraraka interjects, waiting for you to continue

"since you guys are all here let me just sum up what happened. so basically, i asked him what were we a few nights ago-"

hagakure squeals before immediately clamping her hand around her mouth

"sorry! continue.."

"anyway as i was saying, and then he turned the question back to me and i said i don't know because at the time i didn't know either! i didn't want to make the first move and yeah so now we're here" you finish your little story time quickly to save yourself from further embarrassment

the girls take their time to digest your little dilemma. the stunned silence is what made you realized what you just said. the post yap clarity getting to you

yaoyorozu was the first one to break the silence

"this is all my fault, y/n-san! i should've kept my question to myself instead of asking you. i'm so sorry" yaoyorozu cries out, hands flying to her face

with a sad smile, you reach over to remove her hands off her face

"it's not your fault, yaomomo. in fact you made me realize where we were standing. if anything, you helped me" you try to laugh it off.

well, it was true for the most part. yaoyorozu's question was the trigger you needed to help you realize what was going on between you and bakugo

"well, we don't really know what to say.. but you guys should talk" jirou says, patting your leg in a way to comfort you at least

"yeah i thought so too. we'll talk eventually.." you murmured. now all you want to do is to just lay in bed

"okay guys, visiting hours is over, let's all let y/n rest for the mean time" tsuyu prompts. all the girls agree and slowly they all get up from your bed and start to head out

you sit up, watching them huddle to your door.

"thanks guys" you smile at your friends, "thank you for checking up on me"

mina waves her hand off, "duh! we're your friends and we don't like seeing our friends upset. right guys?" mina ignites cheers.

"now we'll leave you alone with your thoughts. you know where to find us!" uraraka waves you goodbye before they all head out, leaving you alone.

once they were gone, you lay back down. now what? do you ask him first? no, that won't do. you already asked the question that brought you guys this dilemma in the first place. maybe you'll fuck things up even more

you're overthinking at this point. you close your eyes and attempt to sleep it off. yeah, that's what you need right now. maybe when you wake up, you'll be more level headed but for now, you just need to rest and that's what you do

on the way out of your room, the girls all run into kirishima in the hallway.

"girl intervention?" kirishima jokes, bumping fists with everyone

"hah! i wish. we were just checking up on y/n after her little outburst earlier. how's the door by the way?" mina asks, waving goodbye to the rest of the girls who went on their own separate ways

"nice. i just talked to bakugo too. told him he needs to get his shit together and talk to y/n since it's clearly noticeable to everyone that they're both going through something" kirishima shares

mina nods along to what he was saying. hopeful that their words get through your heads.

—

it was dinner time when bakugo takes notice of your absence in the table. he scanned the room, noting that everyone else was present. so where were you?

"where's y/n?" bakugo speaks before he could think. kirishima and mina both share a knowing look. "is she not gonna eat?"

"she's sleeping" tsuyu answers

"at this hour? it's literally 7:30PM!" kaminari cries out, "man, your self care practices really rubbing off of her huh?" he jokes, elbowing sero who was laughing at his implication

"what did you say, dunce face?!" bakugo stands up, explosions going off on his palms.

"bakugo! manners!" iida scolds him. bakugo huffs and sits back down, chomping down on his food

bakugo takes a mental note to bring you food later when he finishes his meal

—

"it's me. i brought you food" bakugo knocks on your door, waiting for you to answer. when he's met with silence, he knocks again. this time a little louder

"y/n. you need to eat" he yells, banging his fists against the material of the door. he lets out an irritated growl when he hears some locks clicking into place. an indication that you used your quirk.

"listen, i'm not afraid to blow this whole door away if it means i have to get you to eat!" bakugo yells again. he realizes his tone and clicks his tongue in annoyance that it wasn't the time to act up. "and we need to talk" he says, voice softer

bakugo waits for your response. when you weren't budging at all, he takes this as his sign to leave you alone. maybe you two can talk another time when you aren't preoccupied with other stuff

but to his surprise, you open the door. bakugo pushes it open and sees you making your way back on your bed, looking as if you just cried your eyes out

“i got you your share of food” he says, setting the plate down on your desk. you only weakly nod your head before turning to the side, not wanting to face him.

bakugo stands awkwardly in your room. this isn't the first time he's been here. usually he'd be in bed with you, studying or just hanging out. this was new to bakugo as it is new to you. you two aren't used to this.

swallowing his pride, he slowly sits down on the edge of your bed.

"listen, i want us to talk" bakugo says, unsure what to say next. he carefully watches your next move instead you just lay still.

bakugo runs a hand through his hair. he hates being put on the spot like this. he thinks back to what kirishima told him. to talk to you and here he is now but he isn't sure on what to tell you

"someone came up to me today" bakugo starts, trying to elevate the gloomy atmosphere in your room. "she was-"

"bakugo, it's fine" you cut him off

oof. bakugo. not kats?

bakugo frowns at the way his name slipped off your tongue like that. he opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it

"it's okay if you want to see someone else. i'm not gonna stop you. who am i to stop you?" you finally sit up, looking at him straight in the eye. you just wanted this to get this over with

bakugo's eyes widened. "you didn't even let me fucking finish. she just said that my zipper was open and i wanted to blast her away" he concludes

oh

oh.

stunned by his words, you stay quiet. maybe you shouldn't have jumped into conclusions

"what? got nothing else to say?" bakugo taunts, sensing that the coast was clear, he scoots closer to you. he takes slowly takes your hands and intertwines them together

"i actually saw your dumbass hiding behind that stupid bush. i was gonna catch up with you til that extra stopped me" bakugo grumbles, staring at your hands

you felt your cheeks heat up that you were caught hiding all along.

"so no. i don't want to see anyone else when what i want is right in front of me all along" bakugo says sincerely.

your heart swells. you can feel the tears well up on your eyes again. how much crying have you even done today?

bakugo wipes your stray tears with his thumb. he then caresses your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes

"i like you, dumbass and nobody else" bakugo grunts, feeling himself heat up

"do you mean that?"

"do i mean that? of course i fucking do! i wouldn't be up all on your ass if i wasn't" bakugo huffs, turning away, not wanting you to see the blush on his cheeks

"well, i like you too" you confess. "and i made up my mind that i want to be with you"

"i've been yours, stupid" bakugo finally turns to you and flicks your forehead. "do you really think i let anyone have the same privileges as you do?"

you laugh. well that was anticlimactic, wasn't it?

"shut up kats!"

"that's what i wanted to hear. not bakugo" bakugo grins

"well that's your name, isn't it?"

"obviously it is but it's different when you call me kats" bakugo pulls you into his embrace. "so do me a favor and get it through your pretty little head that i like you and only you. got it?"

you pulled away slightly to look up at him, seeing the softest gaze you've ever seen. who knew he was capable of looking at you that way?

"so what does this make us?" you ask

"boyfriend girlfriend?" he questions. it almost sounds too good to be true if you were being honest

suddenly an idea pops into your head. you nuzzle your face to his chest before giggling

"what are you giggling on about? us finally being official?" he asks again. your giggles sounds like music to his ears

"you have to take me out on a date first" you tease

bakugo instantly pulls away. his whole face was turning red. did those late night cuddles and conversations not count as dates?

"y/n, we've been going on dates for quite some time now-" he protests but you cut him off

"yeah but you never asked me officially. you just assumed that they were dates. i mean yeah they were dates but like, ask me out sometimes" you insist, looking up at him

bakugo feels a vein pop on his forehead. why does it feel like you were messing with him

"is this your payback from earlier from what you've seen with that bitch? i swear if i find her i'm gonna hit her with howitzer impact" bakugo grumbles.

rolling his eyes, he cups your cheeks, "fine. will you, y/n, go out on a date with me?"

with a big smile, you nod your head yes

"it's a date!"

#bakugo imagines #bakugo x reader #bakugo scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #mha x reader #mha scenarios #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia scenarios #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia scenarios #bakugou imagines #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki imagines #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki scenarios

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Hitoshi had so many other things he could be doing - studying for a class he actually took, for example. Instead, he sat stuffing his face with chips as you ranted at him about something called 'The Doppler Effect'.

This poor psych major's head was about to explode.

You faltered at the bewilderment on your friend's face and slumped down next to him with a groan. "I'm so fucked, 'toshi."

"You're notttt," He yawned. Hitoshi lifted his arms up to stretch, and you looked away quickly - ever since Mina pointed his happy trail you crumbled a little inside.

It was extremely distracting.

You cleared your throat, and pushed yourself up, snatching the bowl away from him.

"Hey!"

"'Scuse me?" You huff, "I need to eat too so I'm not drunk after two shots tonight."

Hitoshi froze. There was a pause. His voice came out meek, like a scared mouse.

"What."

You snorted at his blank face. His eyebags weren't as bad today, but they still cast a shadow on his pale face. The panic on his face made him look like a horror movie character at that moment.

"We're going out tonight? With Mina and Denki?"

Hitoshi's eyes widened, and let out a small 'fuck' under his breath. He desperately avoided your gaze, but still he shook his head in protest.

"Nope."

"Fuck you mean 'nope'?" You scoffed. It was a struggle getting Shinsou to come out with you all, but you knew he did actually enjoy everyone's company. His intense lack of energy balanced the other three of you surprisingly well.

He slumped back into the cushions and smothered himself in one of the pillows, groaning into it like a teenage girl. You chuckled at the adult baby and poked his shoulder. "You're coming. You even agreed on the group chat!"

"BUT I DON'T WANT TO-"

"TOO BAD."

:::

As Hitoshi stood at the entrance of 'The Three Boars' he'd never wanted to turn into a turtle and sink into his shell more.

You, on the other hand, stood beside him with a bright grin. And a very small outfit, he'd noted when he picked you up. He'd spent the Uber over gulping every time your skirt rode up and good god when you walked in front of him-

"Ready?"

He broke out of trance and looked at you. A frown crept on his face, but no real ill intent sat behind it because the smile on yours stopped it. He nodded.

Your hand brushed against his, and for some reason the hairs on the back of his neck stood attention. Your fingers reached out hesitantly, like you wanted to curl them into his palm and tug him along. But you didn’t.

Instead, you strode forward in front him and he found himself staring up, because he know if he didn’t, his eyes would find themselves glued to the backs of your thighs.

It was loud in the bar with music thrumming through the floor and people hollering at each other at the tops of their lungs. Two people managed to stand out in the crowd though - those two obviously being your two friends.

Mina and Denki are scream-laughing at strangers dancing, clearly already off their tits. Mina catches your eye and screams - the whole bar jumps at the shrill sound, but she pays no mind and hurtles towards you.

You laugh and hug her. "Y/n, I have a secret, c'mere," she mumbles. You stifle a laugh and lend her your ear. She cups her hand around your ear and... makes a fart noise.

Denki comes up behind up the two of you and cackles at the both of you. Shinsou can't help but let out a little snort at the sight. Seeing you smile would always make him the smile, anyways.

"Should we get drinks?" You ask. It's pointed at Shinsou, but Mina screeches 'yes' and drags you to the bar. You send a ‘sorry’ look at Hitoshi, and he just shrugs with a smile. You order your drinks and sit with Mina at the stools.

She's patting her hair back into place, eyes searching for the yellow-haired boy in the crowd. God knows where he's taken poor Shinsou.

You can see the look on her face - it's more obvious now she's drunk. Furrowed brows, jutted out lip and she's curled into herself a little bit more. "You still haven't told him?" You pry.

She jumps at your question and moves a pink curl from her eye. "No..."

"He's crazy about you," You sigh. The bartender puts your drinks down, you thank him, and take a sip- fuck, it's strong.

She raises a brow and rests her clumsy head against her hand. "Nahhhhh, he isn't."

"Yes, he is!"

"No, he isn't!"

"Mina-"

"Plus, can you even talk?"

That shuts you up, and your face twists in confusion. You let out a breathless laugh, "You're so drunk, dude-"

"Okayyy?" She says, an evil grin lighting up her dark eyes. "Hitoshi still has a big, fat crush on youuuuu," she sings. Her finger comes up and boops your nose, much to your dismay.

You waft her finger away and take a glance at the boy across the room. Both boys are sat down, Denki on some rant that includes waving his arms around like a car dealership blow-up. Your eyes drift to the purple haired boy.

He's sat back in his chair, his jacket off and arms straining at the short sleeves of his cotton shirt, and he does his signature stretch - the one that you 'hate' so much. Your eyes betray you, and your glancing down at the dark strip of hair leading to his belt-

"Jesus, just ask him out already. The whole room can feel you eye-fucking him, Y/n," Mina slurs. You snap your attention back to her with hot cheeks and shove her lightly. She's stuck between giggling at you and looking at something behind you.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump out of your skin. You let out a small shout, and spin around. A tall guy looms over with a leering smile - it makes your skin crawl - and eyes drawing everywhere but your face.

He’s got dark, greasy hair and black eyes that look like pits into whatever ‘soul’ he has. There’s an air around him filled with arrogance, douchery, and frankly, danger.

"You single?" He drawls. He's uncomfortably close - nearly caging you in against the bar, with one hand on the counter behind you. The other hand is busy holding an empty pint of beer that you're thinking hasn't been his first.

Mina's watching the both of you with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You shake your head and laugh with anxiety. "I'm not interested, sorry," You mutter and slide off the stool.

Mina joins you and you're pushing through the crowd. She's in front of you, and you're nearly at the table, but there's a hand on your arm. It's holding tight.

A yelp leaves your lips but Mina's already through the crowd, probably at the table. You’re pulled back into the chest of the guy, and his face reeks of alcohol. A horrible grin spreads across yellow teeth and he flips his dark hair out of his face.

"I asked if you're single, so answer the question, sweetheart." He slurs, nose almost touching yours.

You tried to wrench your arm out of his grip, panic rising. The thrumming in your ears is getting louder, but your throat is so dry that nothing will come out. The few sips you had of your drink are making you foggy, but you know you need to move.

You managed to push some words out. "Listen, I just wanna sit with my friends-"

He presses himself against you, and your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest when he moves his mouth next to your ear. "Why can't we be friends?"

There’s a beat where you’re not really sure what happens, but something does.

You blink and you're free, a waft of air making you shiver for a second.

There's a back in front of you - a back you recognise immediately as Shinsou's, and his familiar smell of lavender and cedarwood fills your brain with the same feeling second-hand smoke from Denki’s blunts do.

The guy scoffs loudly and peers around Shinsou, gesturing at you with a pointed finger.

"She didn't fuckin' tell me she had a boyfriend! She was leadin' me on-"

Hitoshi let’s put a groan and puts his hands to his temples, “Shut the fuck up? Please?". He’s scowling, arms crossed, looming over Creep Mcgee. It's apparent he's a foot taller than the moron, the width of his shoulder making the two of them look like a comical before and after gym-plan ad.

If you hadn't been so shaken, you'd have laughed.

Instead, you found your hand subconsciously wrapping around Shinsou's bicep and glancing up at him. His gaze was steely and dark through narrowed eyes, and his tongue poked through his cheek.

The guy moved to say something again, but Shinsou shook his head. It was a warning, if anything.

Creep McGee just sighed and left, muttering things about you.

A few people had been watching, but they got bored and went back to their dancing and drinking. He looked down at you and his face softened, clenched jaw turning into a small smile on his lips.

"You okay?"

You nodded and tightened your grip on his arm. Your legs were shaking a bit, but you were alive so you couldn't complain.

He gave you a once-over and took your hand off his arm, holding it instead in his own. He looked at it for a second, and Mina's earlier words flashed in your mind.

"Hitoshi still has a big, fat crush on youuuuuu."

The memory made your face go hot again. Shinsou huffed, and started leading you to the door.

"No- I don't want to ruin it, I wanna stay for a bit-"

Hitoshi let out a chuckle in front of you and looked back with a smile you thought you'd swoon over. "We're jus' gettin' you some air, kay?"

His voice was soft and warm and felt like a million hugs and lit you on fire. You nodded obediently and let him lead you outside to sit on the curb a few steps from the door.

You sat clumsily, tugging your skirt down while Shinsou shook his head at you.

"Why do you even wear that stuff? It's always stressful for you," He asked as you finally sat next to him.

"'Cus it's cute? What, do I look bad?" You asked with a cheeky smile, nudging him.

He went quiet for a minute and looked out into the street, eyes following the passing cars. "Nah. You look beautiful." He admitted quietly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at his words. Your hair stands on end, and you feel like you've been electrocuted by Denki with the tingles and shivers flying across your skin.

You turn into Mina for a minute, and open-an-close your mouth like a fish. "...Thanks, boyfriend."

Hitoshi snorts and pushes your shoulder with a teasing smile. "Yeah, you wish, Y/n."

"Yeah, I do," you reply without a beat. You don't even realise what you've said before Shinsou turns to you with wide eyes.

Your hands fly up to smack your mouth in panic. What the fuck? Why would you say that! Y/n, for fuck's sake-

But a grin breaks out on his face, lighting up his violet eyes and they shine in the lamppost's light above him. Fuck, he looks like an angel with the white light halo-ing him, outlining his silhouette like a movie screenshot.

"Yeah?" He asks, and his voice has lowered a bit. His teasing tone is gone, and there's something different, you've never heard before - it's electrifying.

Hitoshi's inched forwards, and his eyes are flitting from your eyes to your bitten lips, making your body shake in anticipation. You know you're doing the same, watching his gaze on you darken and his lips form a shit-eating smirk he'll use to annoy you later.

But you don't give a fuck, because you nod.

He moves fluidly, hand snaking up to cup your neck, half in your hair, and rush you towards his lips. A muttered 'fuck' leaves his mouth before he kisses you, and it's everything you've ever imagined.

He tastes like tobacco - a habit he pretends he doesn't indulge in - and minty gum, making your head spin more than it already is. He's soft, moving with your mouth slowly and taking you in.

Your hand rests on his chest, and you can feel his heart hammer at an unhealthy rate. Air is rushing out of you, so you force yourself to separate from Hitoshi. It’s reluctant, and you wish you could spend all your time against the soft pillows that are his lips, but unfortunately you require oxygen to survive. A cruel reality.

You're both panting into the cold air, staring at each other. A little giggle escapes you, and Hitoshi laughs, and then you both end up in a fit of laughter with your hands still cradling the other.

"Boyfriend?" Hitoshi asks contemplatively, pretending to think it over. You snort and hit him on the chest.

"Take me out on a date, first, pushy."

He grins and pecks your nose, hand still cradling the back of your neck. "I guess I'll have to, then."

"Well, in that case... can you go get me another drink? I left mine on the bar-"

"Good God, Y/n."

taglist: @todoslutbyheart @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

#{ 1000 special } #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #shinsou #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader fluff #bnha x reader fluff #bnha fake dating

[joshslater]

Resizing

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"Care to make it more interesting?" the guy said. We were both about the same age, size, and build. Me, a ginger electronics engineer student dedicated to exercise for years, and recently getting serious with bodybuilding, and he, a Latino who obviously didn't skip gym or his meal plan too often. I guess that was why he'd asked me to spot for him at the barbell. He returned the favor and I felt the need to use the same weight as him and do his reps plus one. That led into testosterone fueled adventure hunt through the gym where we one-upped each other on various equipment and exercises. No one else was in there at this hour. Very mature behavior conducive to optimal results, not. We'd likely regret this the rest of the week.

"Interesting how?" We were standing under the pull-up bars.

"Most pull-ups win muscle and size."

"Isn't that always the prize?" I asked.

"I suppose it is. Chin must come above the bar and then the head fully below it for it to count. Are you in?" He held out his hand. I shook it.

"I'm game," and took a small jump up to the bar and started without any hesitation. I could feel fatigue from what we had done previously, but I tuned it out best as I could. He was counting. I came past eight pretty smoothly, but then I started to struggle. I would have hoped to at least would be past twelve by that point. By thirteen I had to really push it to get number fourteen above the bar, but then I had to give up. I felt a bit disappointed, as I normally can go past fifteen, but he should be just as tired as I.

"Strong going," he congratulated and slapped my shoulder. Then he leaped to the bar, also trying to show off, and began. While it didn't look easy for him, I couldn't see him struggling too bad either, rhythmically going up and down, perhaps slowly getting closer to the agreed limit above the bar. "Ten. Eleven. Twelve." His pace didn't falter. "Thirteen. Fourteen." He made a little smirk. "Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen." That last one wasn't perhaps a legal pull-up, but I had already lost. Perhaps he felt it too, so he dropped down to the floor.

"Fuck, I'm tired," he said, no need to pretend anymore. "Well, at least I won. I shall claim my prize," and he grabbed my hand again. Suddenly I was in agony. It felt like the dull day-after-soreness after a particularly grueling gym session, but there was more to it. It felt like I couldn't move anymore, at least not much. I wasn't frozen in place, but my body refused to detach from him, refused from stepping away. I was hot. I could feel droplets of sweat running down my body, and my eyes were watering up, making the entire room hard to see. But I could see that everything was somehow shifting.

Once he let go I felt unsteady, my body still in flames and sore as hell. His face however wasn't in front of me anymore. Instead I stared right into his chest. I looked down at my body. Years worth of work was gone. It was still an athletic body, but all definition in arms and legs were gone. Pecs and shoulders like any track and field student. "What the hell did you do!" I shouted.

"Muscle and size," he said calmly and flexed his now much larger arm. He looked down at me. "Don't worry. Girls like short boys with abs. Boys too I guess."

"Fuck you! Turn me back!"

"Or what? You're going to tell someone a guy you don't know stole your height at the gym?"

He had a point there. If I hadn't just seen it happen it would be completely unbelievable to me too.

"Just be the bigger man," he said and walked towards the showers.

[darnell-la]

dom mean billy x dom gentle sweet eddie x sub reader punishment smut.

at one point eddie is hesitant telling billy not be mad. Lots of praise degradation. Maybe at one point reader head is resting on eddies lap and he’s cooing her wiping her tears telling her ‘it’s okay, be a good girl for billy’

word count: 3.6k

warning: slight cnc (reader allows any and everything to happen), slapping, heavy choking, heavy cussing, face grabbing, hair pulling, begging, orgasms, creampie, face fucking, rough sex, etc.

note: in this story, Billy is a mean partner, but not as mean as we could’ve written him. don’t worry, he’ll be sweet by the end of his mission. the reader is also a bit toxic and confusing. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT LIKE CNC RELATED WRITING.

WE DO NOT ALLOW COPIES OF OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

Y/n is currently at a party her “partners” told her not to go to. She loves the two long-haired men, but toxicity is what started the relationship and they’ve only been talking for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months.

Being in a toxic relationship is not exactly what y/n planned. Especially with two people, but something happened, and she went along with it.

Now she’s at a party she knows she’s not supposed to be at, but she can’t help it. She likes seeing them upset, knowing if they were to ever make her upset, her heart would crumble, because why don’t they care about her feelings?

“Didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” a familiar voice said behind y/n, making her turn around with a smile on her face. “Well surprise,” she smiled with her pretty teeth.

“Where are you, you know, guard dogs,” Jason said, not knowing what they are to her and what he should call them, but he has an idea of what they claim her as.

“Don’t know, and don’t care,” she said then took a sip from her drink. “Hm — So you’re here alone tonight? What a bummer,” Jason took a look at her lips, watching how glazed they got from the alcohol she had just drank.

“Yeah, such a bummer,” she sarcastically rolled her eyes before laughing with him. The only time y/n and Jason talk is at parties. Flirting it teaming up drinking games is all that they’ve done, but Billy and Eddie are convinced they’ll do more if they hang out too much.

Billy and Eddie had just walked through the doors of the party they didn’t want to go to for obvious reasons, but they were forced after they came to their girlfriend’s dorm and realized she was gone.

They knew exactly where she had gone, and Billy quickly imagined the things she could’ve been doing alone, and if he saw anything he didn’t like, he warned Eddie he wasn’t going to leave there without y/n knowing to never go back again.

Eddie on the other hand is pissed too, probably just as much as Billy, but one of them has to be more calm about it, otherwise this night really wouldn’t go well for y/n.

“Split up and look for her. I hate this big rich prick house,” Billy said before walking off and going straight to the kitchen, knowing she usually drinks when she comes to parties.

Eddie took a breath before looking around patiently. It didn’t take long for him to see her laughing and giggling with Jason Carver.

“Goddamnit,” Eddie cussed as he made his way over to him. He’s pissed because he knew she’d end up talking to him and he specifically told her not to, and he knows for a fact of Billy sees this, he’ll flip shit.

“Y/n, let’s go,” Eddie wrapped his large hand around Y/n’s wrist and tugged. She moved a few inches until Jason came around and pushed Eddie off of him.

“Hey!” Y/n said, not liking the at Jason always gets physical with him. “Relax, sweetheart. Don’t touch her like that you freak,” Jason said, making Eddie chuckle at the old name.

“You don’t mean shit to me anymore, Carver, so I advise you to leave me and especially my girlfriend alone,” Eddie said, making people look our way. People have never heard it until now. He’s finally confirmed it.

“What? I’m not your girlfriend?” Y/n said, boiling Eddie’s blood already. How could she say that in front of all these people? In front of Jason.

“Y/n, don’t fuck with me right now. Let’s go,” he motioned for her to come with him, but she didn’t move. “Thinks she wants to stay with us, don’t you sweetheart?” Jason asked as he backed up and snaked his hands around Y/n’s waist.

“I-I have to go, Jason. Thank you for the drinks,” Y/n pulled away from Jason slowly with a slight smile. “Ah, c’mon, baby. Just stay,” Jason softly grabbed her hand, but she knew Jason.

He could either want her to stay to make Eddie jealous, to make Billy jealous, to get Chrissy jealous, or to get in Y/n’s pants, but she knows he wouldn’t actually want to be with her. Yeah, she’s sweet, but he’s still too worried about his reputation.

“I gotta go,” she said as she slowly pulled away then turned around and walked towards Eddie. Eddie quickly gripped y/n’s upper arm in anger. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” he said as he pulled y/n through the huge house to find a bathroom or the stairs.

“Let’s just go,” Y/n said, not wanting to be here anymore since the fun is over. “Oh, you’re not gonna get out of this shit that easy,” Eddie pulled y/n up the stairs, not caring if she was tripping.

“Eds, we can’t just walk through people’s houses like this,” she said as he checked every room, looking for a specific room for them both.

“You think I give a fuck about this dipshits house!? God, you’re so fuckin’ slow,” Eddie said as he finally found Jason's room. It’s never hard to tell what’s his and what isn’t.

“Eddie, this is Jason’s room!” Y/n said as she was pushed into the room. “And how do you know that?” Eddie asked, looking through her soul after he closed the door. Y/n stayed silent, not wanting to piss him off even more tonight.

“On the bed,” Eddie demanded, and for some reason, she went as quickly as possible. She didn’t see it, but Eddie smirked with a chuckle, knowing she’d always be submissive.

“Good girl. Maybe I will take it easy,” Eddie said as he took his jacket off, looking at his beautiful but bratty girl. “Just wished you’d stay that way for me, but you’re full of so many fucking surprised,” Eddie said with a forced smile.

“I-I’m sorry,” y/n spoke, making Eddie feel bad already. “Fuck,” Eddie said under his breath as he turned around and covered his face. He tried being upset and angry with her, but she’s just too sweet.

“I really am, Eds. I’m sorry I embarrassed you downstairs. I-I won’t do it again,” y/n stayed still on the bed, seeing Eddie’s body movement. She doesn’t know if he’s going to explode or forgive her.

“You can’t just walk around in the public and act free. This is why we don’t want you out. If Billy saw you before I did, you wouldn’t be in this position right now. Especially after you let that shithead call you sweetheart and baby in front of my face. Those are my words for you. No one else,” Eddie said now in front of y/n.

“You need to think more, baby,” Eddie softly grabbed y/n’s cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” she said again causing him to nod his head. “I know you are, but you can’t always get let off. I-I don’t want to hurt you or force you but you can’t just- You can’t do this shit and get away with it,” Eddie said.

“And I’m not breaking up with you, so the only option is you change or punish you until you learn, but I can’t always do that. Billy will,” he said as y/n moved off of the bed slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she said for the third time as she slowly went to her knees. “I know,” Eddie rubbed her cheek as she slowly tugged on his belt and jeans until she pulled him out.

Y/n wasted no time to take him in her mouth. “Augh,” he groaned as he threw his head back and pushed y/n further into him as he bucked his hips. He’s always so easy to pleasure.

“You’re just so good to me,” Eddie said with his eyes shut tight, feeling her tongue wrap around his tip every time she sucks up and then goes back down until she couldn’t take any more of him.

“So fuckin’ good,” he said. Y/n looked up at him, seeing his head still laid back and his mouth parted. She knew she had him right where she liked him. It always makes her think, should she let this relationship happen? Should she finally commit?

Eddie groaned at the speed change and her touch around his hips, moving him at a paste she wanted. Her gags were heard more and the head became sloppy, just how Eddie liked it.

She knew he was enjoying it by the way he moaned and his hips bucked. He was already twitching in her mouth.

“Just like that,” Eddie rubbed his face with both of his hands again, not believing he kept letting this happen. He hates complaining about it though because he loves it. He loves the way she sucks him up with those eyes he’s not even looking at right now. That’s how good she treats him.

“Got me close. Fuck,” Eddie said, finally looking down at her, watching his cock move in and out of her thick and soft lips. “Never lettin’ you go,” Eddie said as y/n hummed on his cock.

“Shit,” Eddie bucked, not wanting to cum yet but couldn’t hold back. Y/n sucked a bit harder, focusing more on the tip to suck him dry. She always wants it all in her mouth. No leftovers.

“Are you fucking serious!? You’re tooo her upstairs so she can suck your cock? She fuckin’ disobeyed us and you couldn’t at least fuck her face!? You just let her suck you on her own paste!?” Billy’s angry voice came through the door until he was standing next to the both of them.

“Dude, relax. Not everything has to be rough,” Eddie said as he softly pulled y/n to her feet. “Well, that depends on what she did. Did you fuck anyone tonight?” Billy asked, getting straight to it.

“No, what the fuck!?” Y/n said, upset that he always thinks she’ll open her legs for people. “Oh sure you fuckin’ didn’t,” Billy said with a chuckle. “Kiss? Dance?” He asked, hoping to get her on one of those, but what he didn’t know was that she was going to piss him off with something else.

“No Billy, but since you’re always in my business, I did talk, joke, and laugh with Jason,” y/n said with crossed arms. “Jason Carver?” Billy asked in a serious tone, not too loud and not too quiet.

“Yeah, and I had fun. So what I talked to him, that shouldn’t matter to you because we’re not officially!” Y/n yelled at him, making Eddie back up. He already knew she fucked up.

In a split second, Billy gripped y/n’s neck and forced her back on the bed until he was hovered over her kicking, slapping and yelling body.

“You’re gonna rub that shit in my face and think I won’t do shit about it!?” Billy yelled in her face as a little bit of spit splashed on her. “Get off,” y/n tried saying in a serious tone, but that didn’t work with him.

“You think ima get off, knowing you’d let any other dude her slip right into you pussy if the only thing they had to do was talk to you!?” Billy yelled the last few words, tightening his grip on her neck.

“At least they deserve it,” y/n said, not knowing what she was saying. Eddie knew she was just throwing words out there, but Billy? Billy couldn’t focus on that. He was truly angry.

“Oh, so now I don’t deserve you? All the days and nights I’ve fucked you and rocked your pretty little world, you wanna tell me I don’t deserve you?” Billy genuinely asked.

“Oh oh, but Jason does? Jason fuckin’ Carver does!?” Billy asked before laughing to himself. “You know what’s fucking sad, y/n? Do you!?” Billy waited for an answer. “What?” She plainly asked, trying to act like his grip was getting to her.

“If I were to go to any bitch here, you’d be upset. If I simply looked at Carol, Heather, or anyone else, you’d cry. You’d cry like a pathetic little bitch, but it’s okay for you to go after people we specifically don’t like? That’s sad,” Billy said.

Billy never knew what he wanted from y/n. Before he put her in her place, he always hoped for an answer to why she did this, but at the same time, he didn’t care, because whether she liked it or not, she belonged to him.

“Whatever,” a tear rolled down y/n’s cheek at the scenarios he gave. Eddie knows she’s sensitive when they mention their being with other women but Billy keeps talking about it.

Even though he’s not saying he’s going to do it and he’s just telling her how ignorant and selfish she gets, Eddie still finds it harsh.

“C’mon man, let’s just relax and let this one go. She’s already crying,” Eddie said. “Only if she promises to be right. Just be right, and we can be happy. It’s not that hard!” Billy said, but y/n’s always been stuck up.

She wants to be official, she’s always wanted to, but she’s afraid at times. She could say yes and have no regrets later, but because Billy’s threatening her, she refuses.

She’s always trying to out-dominate Billy, but that’s impossible. There’s no way she’s getting out of this situation untouched and unfucked.

“Get off of me. I’m going home,” Y/n said, moving her body to get off of the bed, but that triggered him. He’s had enough for tonight. “Goddamnit,” Eddie sighed with his head thrown back, knowing she fucked the night up for herself.

Billy harshly pulled y/n’s dress up before ripping her lace panties clean off of her. “Hey! I said I’m going home!” Y/n shouted, slapping at his arms, but that never pleased him.

Billy continued until he pulled himself out of his jeans. “Let’s see how demanding you are with a cock up your cunt,” Billy said before slipping into y/n so easily that it hurt at how deep he got in the first thrust.

“God, Billy,” Eddie felt bad as he watched y/n’s words get caught in her mouth. “Gonna keep talkin’ to Carver after this, huh? Huh!?” Billy slammed his hips into y/n as she cried in pain but so much pleasure.

She’s always been the type to hide it, but by the time she couldn’t hold it anymore, she would be too fucked out to tell him how much she loves him or Eddie.

“I didn’t think so,” Billy used his free hand to grab y/n’s face and squeeze until she whined. “Keepin’ those moans in will fuck you over by the end of the night, so I suggest you open your fucking mouth now,” Billy growled.

“B-Billy,” y/n seemed so lost in words that she didn’t know what to say to him. She can’t act like she doesn’t like this. She’s always loved the way Billy treated her. She loves it rough.

“Go a little easy on her, man. She's falling apart,” Eddie said, feeling bad for her, but he couldn't ignore the rock in his pants. He never can.

“Oh, shit the hell up, Munson. Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck her just like this if she wants so submissive to you,” Billy grew angry at Eddie for always telling him to relax or take it easy.

“No, you wouldn’t take it easy. No one would. No one would take it easy on a slur like you,” Billy leaned forward to get a closer look at y/n who’s currently mind-fucked.

“No one soul. All they do is think about abusing your cunt like some fuck toy or some whore in the street. You need to be more grateful for us, baby. Needa understand that if it wasn’t for you, you’d be some worn-out slut for parties like these,” Billy said, stinging y/n but she loves it.

“You already whore for us. Open your legs so fuckin’ easy and cum in seconds. You really think I don’t notice how wet you are when I plunge into your cunt, y/n? I always fuckin’ notice. Always notice how easy you are for me,” Billy leaned down in the crook of y/n’s neck as he pushed deeper into her, making her scratch her shoulders and back.

“I’m gonna cum,” y/n said low and shrieky. “Ah uh, I didn’t say you can cum. You haven’t been a good girl. You don’t get to fuckin’ cum,” Billy said, thrusting a bit faster to be a dick as always.

“C-Can’t hold it,” she cried, tears streaming from her eyes. “You’re gonna fuckin’ hold it, y/n, because I tell you what. If you don’t, ima gonna fuck you so fuckin’ hard,” Billy moved both of his hands to connect to her neck, pulling her into his hard and harsh thrusts.

“She’s not gonna be able to hold it, Billy, just pull out or let her cum, man,” Eddie said as he got on the bed, seeing how he could comfort y/n in this situation but it’s hard to when she’s basically crying and grinding up against Billy.

“O-Off, off!” Y/n tried pushing Billy away, but he didn’t budge. Billy gave a few slaps to her face, telling her to stop fighting. “Take it, slut. Take my damn cock like the cock drunk whore you are,” Billy spat harsh words out as her body went stiff.

“Augh!” Y/n moaned loudly as her feet kicked the bed. “That’s it, keep cummin’ so I can punish you some more,” Billy whispered with an evil smile that Eddie saw plastered all over his face.

Eddie knew this wasn’t getting good for y/n, so he went under her and rested her head in his lap.

“S-Stop! Stop!” Y/n second orgasm washed over her so quickly she couldn’t even process the first. “You shut the fuck up,” Billy slapped a hand over her mouth with his one hand still gripping her neck.

Y/n reached an arm back on Eddie’s clothes, holding them tightly as he stroked the side of her forehead to calm her as Billy took what he wanted.

“Just relax, baby. He’s close. Take it for a little while longer,” Eddie whispered to her as her eyes rolled back and her vision seemed to get bad.

Billy’s groan began to sound wild. You’d think his anger would have calmed down by now, but he feels like he could go another few rounds.

“It’s okay, be a good girl for Billy,” Eddie heard a yelp from y/n as Billy dug his nails into y/n’s neck to force her moans out.

Eddie wanted to push Billy off but didn’t know for what reason. Was it to help y/n rest for a few minutes, or was it to take his turn from the hard-on he got again.

“Just cum again, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’ll help you,” Eddie said before leaning over to rub at y/n’s sensitive clit. “N-No! No more!” Y/n begged before Billy got the chance to bring his weight down on her mouth.

“Yes, you can, baby. You want Billy to stop right?” Eddie asked, long into the poor and horny girl's eyes as he wiped at her years. She didn’t nod or say anything as she got lost in his eyes, but he knew what she wanted.

“Then cum, baby. I know you want to. You can give us at least one more. Just one. Wanna taste you, baby,” Eddie said before seeing y/n’s eyes roll back once again.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” Eddie rubbed faster. “So good for us,” Billy groaned as his cock twitched. “Yes, she is. So fuckin’ good,” Eddie praised as her body shook uncontrollably.

“Gonna pump you full then make you talk to Jason and tell him what a slut you are for us. Shit, you’ll even show him how full you are,” Billy said, meaning every word he said.

Y/n mined at the thought of Billy and Eddie wanting to claim her this bad.

“Mhm, fuck yes. Fuck yes, baby, suck me in. Suck me back in, baby, fuck!” Billy slammed into y/n a few harsh times before hurting himself deep into her as he spilled into her.

“You’re always a good little fuck for me. Don’t need anyone else havin’ this lucky cunt,” Billy said as he pulled out with a groan, watching the way her walls tried pulling him back.

“Fuck,” Eddie said under his breath. “So pretty,” Eddie softly rubbed over her whole cunt. Billy finally got off of y/n, allowing her to breathe so much better and let out her whines.

“C'mon, baby. I wasn’t even that rough,” Billy said, feeling like he took it way easier than he planned. “Dude,” Eddie said before they both laughed.

“It’s okay — She’s a good girl and took it so well, didn’t you, baby?” Billy asked as he leaned towards her face, seeing how fucked out her eyes are. “So well,” Billy said before leaning in for a kiss.

Y/n whined in between her kisses, desperately trying to taste him, but it was hard. Everything felt hard to do right now.

“I like the idea of going down to Jason and showing him how much you belong to us, but I don’t want anyone else seeing how pretty this princess is,” Eddie said, softly slapping at y/n’s pussy, making her cry in pleasure.

“So how about you tell Jason you want him to take you to his room so he can see the mess you made. Then you can lay on his bed with us next to you, and spread that pretty pussy for his rich prick eyes,” Eddie said, wanting to hurt Jason as much as possible.

Billy pulled back and looked down at y/n, waiting for her answer. “O-Okay,” she said, not caring about how shitty that would be of her. She wants to make her partners happy and obey for once.

“Atta girl,” Eddie rubbed y/n’s cheek as she caught her breath so she could make it downstairs and not tip over from his good Billy rocked her world.

#billy hargove smut #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #dark!billy hargrove #dom!billy hargrove #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #dark!eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #stranger things s5 #stranger things smut #stranger things #smut #rough kink #roughfuck #rough cnc #18+ #18+ content #18+ fic #18+ minors dni #18+ only #18+ post

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Killing Wanda

Summary: You, Nat and Yelena are successful assassins, damn good at your jobs but there was one woman you couldn’t stay away from, and when you get a job that tells you to kill her, well you needed to be around Wanda all the time now, and she wasn’t getting away from you, no one would get on your way to have her

Words: a lot, like over 3,000 I think

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ suggestive themes, swearing and adult themes

A/n: God I’m on fire with releasing fics, hopefully my writing drought is over now and I’ll be writing more now

Also this is long so I’m hoping there’s no mistakes but if there is I’m sorry

The door was open when Wanda came downstairs and she started to panic, she closed the door she was sure of it, what could have happened?

A noise from the kitchen broke Wanda out of her thoughts and she stepped quietly towards the kitchen where the noise was, finally seeing someone digging through the kitchen drawers “you really should learn to organise your utensils you know, it’s a mess in here, if you brought a woman home and she looked in here I don’t think she’d want to do the tongue tango with you would she? A disordered drawer isn’t impressive to people Wanda”

You had yet to turn around and face Wanda, content to keep sorting out the scrambled mess “Y/n why are you in my house?” Wanda whispered and you finally turned around smiling at the scared woman “oh my darling you look tired, have you been sleeping well?”

Wanda didn’t answer instead just moving around the table to sit down still holding your gaze “I’ll ask again, why are you in my house?”

You bit your lip holding in a laugh “oooooh we’re feeling grumpy tonight aren’t we? Maybe you need to relax, I can call Yelena to make us Mac n cheese and I’ll send Natasha to get some wine-

Wanda slammed her fist down on the table cutting you off “don’t fucking play with me Y/n, tell me why you’re here!”

While you were slightly caught off guard you pulled yourself together and reached for a dagger on your person and pointed it at Wanda giving her a warning “I wasn’t finished talking, you’re a grown woman and therefore should know better, it is very rude to do that detka” Wanda’s bravado flew out the window when you rounded the table and held your hand around her throat

“I am here because I was asked to be here, someone paid me a lot of money to kill you slowly and painfully, whoever you pissed off really wants you to suffer and I mean really suffer, the list of things they want me to do is endless”

You eased off the tension on her neck and lent forward kissing her cheek “I like your face, such a shame I have to cut it up, they want picture proof of your death”

Wanda was wavering she was scared, she knew what you did and she knew you did it damn well and left no trace “okay Y/n let’s just calm down, please tell me who put the hit out on me”

Your lips stayed close to her and moved towards her neck kissing her there smiling at the shaky breath she released “I can’t disclose client information Wanda, but it’s someone you know, and from how they speak, someone who’s seen your body in a way that I can only dream of and trust me I do dream of it”

You pushed Wanda gently into the counter leaning into her “how do you dream of me?”

“Oh? I dream of you in the filthiest and most depraved ways, none that I’m willing to discuss here of course but just know that I everytime I kill someone and their blood spills onto me I imagine it’s yours”

“That…that doesn’t sound very sexy”

You smirked letting your hand rest on her hip and the other next to her head “it is when I’m imagining I’m buried deep inside of you cutting up your pretty body-

“Y/n! Have you done yet? We are needed back” Yelena casually walked into the house disturbing your clearly romantic moment with Wanda “I’m in the middle of something Yel”

The blonde scoffed looking at Wanda “yes I can see, she looks terrified, or aroused maybe both”

You glanced down at Wanda “aroused, I can feel how wet she is- Wanda quickly pushed you away at that and you laughed “aw princess are you embarrassed? Its okay I’m glad my intimidation tactics get you this aroused”

Just then Natasha entered angry as ever “Davayte zhe teper'!” She didn’t care what was happening just that you three needed to leave before people started to turn up for them

“Yeah yeah whatever Nat we’re coming” you kissed Wanda on the nose leaving her speechless and still “lovely time we’ve had here princess but I’m needed elsewhere, enjoy your dinner and I’ll see you soon”

The trio left without another word and Wanda sank to the floor controlling her breathing “why is she obsessed with me”

**************************************************

“Why are you obsessed with Wanda?” Yelena poked at you while in the car “she’s hot” you said but the blonde just laughed “I’ve seen you with women you find “hot” and it wasn’t that with Wanda, I think you really like her and want to make babies”

You scrunched up your nose and slapped Yel on the arm “we’re two women idiot, and no matter how hard I’d try I don’t think I could get Wanda pregnant, but god I’d give it a damn good go”

You looked out of the car window admiring the views that Nat drove past, actually you didn’t recognise where you were, weren’t you going back to the house?

“Natty I don’t know if you hit your head back there but I don’t recognise where we are”

The redhead shrugged in the front seat “you need to lie low for a while, you’ve been too careless”

You scoffed “don’t be so fucking ridiculous Natalia I’m good at my job and I’ve never let any personal feelings affect it” you defended

Nat slammed on the breaks sending you near enough through the seat and beyond “fucking hell Nat are you on your period or something?”

“You know we don’t get our periods der'mo” Yelena piped up but you both ignored her “last week you spent 4 hours watching Wanda, you watched her eat dinner, watched her drink wine and then even watched her sleep with a man”

You rolled your eyes at that “yeah all of 4 minutes of that man basically humping poor Wanda and her faking an orgasm”

Yelena was intrigued “wait, how do you know she faked an orgasm?”

You patted poor young innocent Yelena on the back “oh my sweet little Yelena, it was in the way she only shuddered slightly when the man whispered he’s close and then immediately said she came afterwords, he left soon after then she picked out her favourite red vibrator placed it against her sweet-

“Stop! I’ve had enough Y/n let’s just go home and sleep okay, I’m sorry I was so angry but it’s been a rough day”

You kissed Nat on the cheek “it’s okay detka you’re our favourite little black widow, very spicy and dangerous”

Nat sighed and gave a small smile “okay let’s not get all mushy, just stay away from Wanda okay?”

You shrugged “well someone still gave a hit out on her, so I’ll have to see her sooner or later again”

*************************************************

You said you’d stay away from Wanda for a little bit but you couldn’t help it, you found yourself back at Wanda’s house waiting for her in her bedroom, an open window offered you a perfect entry to the room

Wanda jumped back when she entered her bedroom obviously not expecting you “Y/n what the fuck?!”

You smiled wide “hi Wanda, I’m sorry I couldn’t stay away, I still technically need to kill you you know”

Her face fell and she started to step back but you stopped her holding her wrist and pulling her close “don’t worry Wanda I don’t want to kill you yet, I want to enjoy you”

Wanda let herself be pulled into a hug, you wrapped both arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder “you’re so tense my love, did that man not make you cum again?”

Wanda pulled her head back looking at you “what do you mean?”

“I had to make sure you were being safe and when I saw that man humping you like a dog in heat it was heartbreaking, you deserve so much better”

Wanda pushed you away sitting on her bed with her head in her hands “I cannot believe you’ve been watching me have sex, that’s so fucking weird”

You shook your head sitting next to the redhead “no honey it’s not, I needed to watch you to make sure you were okay and as I said that man didn’t look after you, he didn’t treat you well enough, didn’t do any foreplay, didn’t even kiss you, how ridiculous!”

Wanda stood up from the bed and started pacing around the room “what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you obsessed me why do you watch me? And don’t say it’s because someone wants me dead, if you actually did your job I’d be dead already!”

Your eyes darkened, no one’s ever questioned your job before “I am successful in my work Wanda, I have never ever messed up a job and don’t you ever assume otherwise, I will kill you one day Wanda and when I do it’ll be so quick you won’t even realise until you’re stood in front god himself”

Wanda had backed up against the wall with you following her every step, you ended up pressed chest to chest with Wanda and loved every minute of it “well this is a nice position isn’t it?” You smiled, your demeanour changed from angry to soft way too quick for Wanda’s liking, but she was still slightly nervous

“Okay Y/n I’m sorry just, I’m just stressed that’s all”

“Stressed? Why is my pretty girl stressed?” You ran your fingers across her face and on her stress lines “don’t give yourself winkles my love, why are you stressed?”

Wanda sighed heavily giving in and just decided to tell you “the man-the one you’ve watched in my house, like a weirdo, he keeps texting me and stalking me at work, I didn’t call him back after the last time he came over and I think he’s mad about it”

You nodded along listening loosely while studying her face, she was gorgeous

“I see, he’s a bitch then, doesn’t deserve you, don’t worry Wanda I’ll deal with him” you pushed yourself away from Wanda who instantly missed your comfort surprisingly

“Wait where are you going?” She tried following you across the room to the door but you stopped her “I’ll be back later I promise”

“Are you going to hurt him?” She asked and you just smiled “I’ll be back pretty girl”

You left without another word and Wanda was sure she wouldn’t be hearing from Vision again.

********************************************

You decided to bring Yelena on your little trip, she was like a puppy, she needed to be taken out to kill at least 3 times a day or she’d starting biting the furniture and peeing on the carpet

“Are you sure this is okay? We’re assassins for hire not free killers”

“Not free killers? Didn’t you attack a guy because he tried touching that Kate girl?”

Yelena stopped in her tracks and widened her eyes “how do you know about that?!”

“You got drunk and told Nat and I when we were playing uno”

She rolled her eyes “anyway that was because she didn’t deserve to be treated like that”

“And that’s why I’m doing this for Wanda, she deserves better and that’s me clearly so by killing this guy I’m one step closer to that”

“Aren’t you meant to kill her?” You finally found the house you were looking for and saw the man with yet another woman he was sure to disappoint “I am but that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun, plus there’s no time limit on the request so I can take my time”

You and Yelena stood outside the front door deciding on how to approach the situation “so, sneak in or knock the door down and start shooting?”

You only responded with pulling your gun out and shooting the lock and kicking the door open

“Daddy’s home!” You stormed through the house and held the surprised man at gunpoint

Yelena walked through the door following you “just full on craziness then, okay”

“What the hell are you doing in my house?! Who are you??!” The moustached man was scared and you could tell, he was trying to act tough though in front of his lady friend, it’s okay though she isn’t the one you were here for

“White widow can you take this lovely lady out of here and make sure she gets home safely Spasibo”

Yelena nodded and offered the lady her hand which she took “we are quite sorry about the intrusion, I hope you forgive us”

The lady nodded taking Yelena’s hand “okay” you were glad she wasn’t in the mood for an argument, you didn’t want to kill two people “thank you Miss”

When the two women left you looked back at Vision “so why do you think I’m here?” You asked casually while still pointing the gun at him

“How the hell should I know?? Who are you?!�� He was stressed and it nearly made you laugh “you’ve tried sleeping with Wanda maximoff twice, and both times you’ve never made her cum, you don’t deserve her”

The man was perplexed, how the hell did you know what he did with Wanda “how do you know I’ve slept with Wanda, did she tell you? And why do you care??”

You stepped close enough to him to press the gun against his chest “Wanda belongs to me, and watching you try and pathetically fail to fuck her was horrendous, and then for her to tell me you’ve been stalking her, what a pathetic excuse of a man you are”

He tried moving away but your gun pressed harder into his chest “you’re crazy, I’m pretty sure Wanda doesn’t belong to you”

You smiled “she does, she doesn’t know it yet but she definitely belongs to me, and you being a prick is slowing that process down so I do apologise but I have to kill you”

His face went white, all bravado flown out of the window and it made you giddy, you loved when they got like this, all scared, some wet themselves too but you hated that, totally killed the mood when that happened

“You can’t kill me! The police will find you” he was scrambling

“Well it’s been 10 years and I’ve yet to be caught yet so I don’t believe they’ll catch me for this”

“Okay but the gun will make a loud sound and the neighbours will get suspicious!”

“I’ve got a silencer dipshit, as I said I’ve done it for 10 years, I’m no amateur”

You pulled the trigger refusing to let him continue, the bullet went straight through his heart killing him instantly, you didn’t waste time standing around admiring your work instead calling a clean up crew

“Bucky, follow my location and clean up quickly and quietly” you hung up and left the house heading back to Wanda like you promised, she was going to be so happy you were sure of it.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel au #marvel imagine #yelena boleva #killing Wanda #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader

[eepwriting]

• mean brat taming dom ii who is SO soft with u after (my hc says there’s no way he’s not into impact play tbh)

• ivy being the absolute softest gentlest daddy dom ever (tell me he doesn’t give that strong gentle energy. the praise he would give?! UGH)

• primal feral vessel claiming you after chasing you through the forest. right there on the leaf littered floor

• iii edging you over and over on his thigh until you’re sobbing and brain dead (really i just think iii would enjoy being as much of a fucking tease as possible. whispering dirty thoughts in your ear through the day. stealing spicy touches. leading up to when he can finally get you alone and drive you REALLY crazy)

• reader x vessel x ivy threesome. soft daddy dom ivy and mean dom vessel

i have too many filthy ideas but no ability to write them so 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 godspeed, hope these inspire some filth from you!

- thirsty girl 💘

Count ‘em ✶ II x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, impact play (spanking, light slapping, choking, pinching, hair pulling), degradation, oral (m receiving), mean! ii

TRUST when I say I will be returning to this ask to write something for every prompt. Also, THANKS for some ii stuff!! I was feeling bad that I only had one thing wrote for him 🤍🤍

!! mdi !!

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“Move it, I’ve already said it once. That should be enough.” His voice is stern, his eyes serious as he impatiently drums his fingers on his legs.

You knew him well enough at this point to know what his calm demeanor truly meant. Even the way he undressed you minutes before had been slow and careful. Only you knew that the second he got you over his lap, his actions would not be gentle.

You swallow nervously, hoping he can’t hear the sound of your heart about to break through your chest. You knew your brattiness throughout the day had gotten you here. Your unrelenting back talk and attitude wasn’t something you gave ii often, but for whatever reason, you wanted to see how far you could push him today.

You’re slow to move towards him, his full and undivided attention on you feeling as if it was about to burn a hole into the side of your face. He lets you help yourself onto his lap, crawling to lay face down across his spread thighs. His hand is heavy on your back once you get settled, sliding up your spine to rest in between your shoulder blades. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been awfully difficult.” His hand moves up into your hair to tug, pulling your head back slightly. “Hm?”

You think about your answer carefully and decide to just be honest with him. He’d know anyway if you were lying. “I think it’s fun.” Your hand grips his calf when he tugs harder, isolating a chunk of hair at the crown of your head. “Fun? To mess with me? To irritate and piss me off to no end? You think that’s fun, is what I’m hearing?” You nod meekly, silently enjoying the pull on your hair. He only hums and reaches his other hand around to wrap around your throat, applying enough pressure to make breathing slightly more difficult, but not enough to make you panic for air.

“Well I don’t think that’s very fun at all. In fact, only a desperate, pathetic little whore would find something like that to be fun. Is that what you are then? A desperate and pathetic whore?” The hand in your hair disappears to grope roughly at your ass before settling on a cheek, leaving a stinging pinch. You take in a short gasp of air at the sting, earning a quiet snicker from ii. His full hand comes down in a dull smack before massaging over your skin. “You make it so easy, you know. Your skin practically begs to be marked up. You seem to want that too, don’t you? You wouldn’t act up if you didn’t.” Another, this time harsher smack is dealt. “I didn’t get an answer to my question.” The hand around your throat tightens.

Your eyes close in a long blink before you attempt a nod. He makes a sound of disappointment next to you. “You know you’re supposed to use your words. Don’t play dumb.” His hand moves to the back of your thigh to pinch and pull at the skin.

You squirm and squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes. I’m a desperate and pathetic whore.” This earns you a groan and another spank. “There you go. Maybe you can follow instructions. Why don’t you count ‘em for me, hm?” His touch is soft as he runs his hand up your back. Your mumbled and nervous “okay” is enough for him to swat at your ass again. He waits for your response before landing another. “2…” The pain is tolerable but you know he’s just warming up.

He lands 10 solid smacks, each progressively getting harsher before massaging his hand over your stinging skin. You hiss at the touch and make a poor attempt to shift your hips away from him. “I like watching you jolt from the pain. The little gasps you let out.” The hand around your throat moves to run through your hair.

He repeats the same actions on the other cheek, but doesn’t build up at all. The 10 makes your skin sting, like hot fire, your eyes watering at the repeated blows. II knows you can take it, knows you enjoy it. Clearly evident by the way moans and whimpers flood out of your mouth and your hips grind down on his thigh.

He lets you rest, massaging his fingers over your scalp, his other hand lightly scratching over your back. “On your knees now.” He says after his moment of quiet tenderness. Excitement blooms in your stomach, ready and aching to take more than just his harsh hands. You’re slow to move off his lap and even slower to sink to the floor. The skin on your ass is hot against your calves and ankles, a dull but persistent sting radiating as you get situated on your knees.

II cups the sides of your face, moving your head side to side as he looks down at you. His thumbs move over your cheeks before he leans down to press his mouth to yours. It’s harsh and rushed. Teeth clashing together before he bites over your bottom lip. His hand returns around your throat before he drags you up to stand on your knees. He roughly grips your hip, digging his fingertips into the skin, hard enough you’re sure to see a bruise in the morning. He licks into your mouth a final time before breaking away from you. He groans when he looks at you. Hair messed up from his hands, lips red and slightly inflamed, the skin on your neck a bright white with how much pressure he’s applying to your throat. His thumb absentmindedly runs over your lips before he hooks it over your bottom lip to force your mouth open. Your tongue comes out to lick over his thumb, earning another low groan from ii. “Such a pretty mouth. I’m gonna fuck it.” His thumb messily runs over your outstretched tongue. An inadvertent whimper comes from you at those words, your hands impatiently grabbing at his thighs. He snickers at you before standing to remove his jeans.

Both his hands cradle your head in surprising tenderness but his eyes and facial expression are cold and stern as he looks down at you. He lightly slaps your cheek twice and you take that as a cue to open your mouth for him. He hums, sliding one hand to the back of your head. He wastes no time in sliding his cock fully into your awaiting mouth. II’s jaw clenches and his hips buck towards you when your lips wrap around him. “Put that mouth of yours to good use.” He grunts, cock moving in and out of your mouth quickly. His too tight grip on your hair makes you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut. A harsher slap lands on your cheek. “You keep your eyes on me.” It almost comes out in a growl as he practically straddles your face, forcing his cock as far into your mouth as he can. He doesn’t let up despite your watering eyes, gags and nails digging into the skin on his thighs.

You know he’s close when the sounds he lets out become higher pitched and the rhythm of his thrusts turn disjointed. “Take it. Be good and take it.” He breathes out before letting out a long groan. His movements pause as he cums at the back of your throat, his hand holding your head close to him. You breathe through your nose and patiently wait for him to pull away from you. You can finally close your eyes, forcing leftover tears down your cheeks when he backs away. You stay looking up at him, his chest heaving, eyes heavy and relaxed now.

He lazily reaches out to brush over the top of your head and wipe over your cheeks. He holds his hand out for you, letting you take your time in rising to your feet. He pulls you into a long hug, hands running up and down your back. He guides you to lay on the bed, insisting you lay on your stomach. He lays next to you for a short while, asking you repeatedly if you’re okay, peppering kisses on the side of your face. He leaves your side and comes back with water and an ice pack. He watches you sip the water while holding the ice on your still red hot skin. He coos at you when you wince, shuffling closer to you as he watches you with concern filled eyes.

Your tiredness eventually catches up to you and you’re not sure how long you’ve dozed off before you feel ii straddle your hips. You whine when his hard again cock pushes against you. “Mm, don’t touch…it’s too much.” You furrow your brows and try to shift away from his hands that brush over your aching skin. “Shhh, I know, love. You’ve been so good for me…wanna help you. I’ll be gentle. I promise.” His voice is quiet as he leans over you, nuzzling his head against your neck. He lazily mouths over your skin and ever so slowly inches into you.

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The way I could not focus for more than 5 minutes while writing this 🙃 I had different plans for this but I just could not use enough brain power to write it lol

BUT I’m so excited to return to this ask!!! So many good ideas 👏🏻 thank you again anon 💘

Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed!

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token ii #ii sleep token #sleep token ii x reader #ii x reader

[animatedjen]

What's some stuff you're really hoping to see in Jedi 3 (either narratively or gameplay wise)?

Oh I'm so glad you asked this 🙌 Because I have THOUGHTS.

Gonna put everything under the cut so this doesn't clog up the feed with a wall of text (whoops.) Some of these ideas I hope to create concept art for, after I replace/fix my very cranky thirteen-year-old tablet. Anyway let’s start with gameplay!

Gameplay!

Maintaining Cal's abilities: Survivor handled this beautifully by keeping many of the skills learned in Fallen Order, instead of undoing Cal's growth from the first game. I think it'll be trickier to keep this momentum into Jedi 3 (the skill tree has gotten so large!) but story reasons could push Cal towards new types of abilities instead of bloating the current options.

More synergy between the lightsaber stances: I like all the stances in Survivor and it'd be A) disappointing to lose any of them, but B) overwhelming to add MORE combat styles. Being able to flow between the stances more fluidly would be fun though, with specific combos unlocked depending on which two are active together. Now if Merrin lets Cal borrow her knife-staff and he puts his lightsaber on the end... MAGICK SABER PIKE GO.

New or adapted movement mechanics: Maybe the ascension cable is replaced with a force ability (Force Ascend or Force Leap for an extra vertical boost?) or is "upgraded" to connect between two anchors, letting Cal create his own temporary ziplines.

Replayable missions: This could be explained in-game with a Force Tear or Cal's own interactive echoes. But I'd love the option to experience story missions and boss fights again post-game.

Customization!

This is a bonus section because Merrin should get new outfits. Haven't decided how to make it part of gameplay yet, stay tuned.

Cal's cosmetics in Survivor are mostly cool, some just funny, but overall a huge improvement from Fallen Order (yes, even though we miss all the poncho designs). For Jedi 3 I'd love to see more story-centric cosmetics that tie into the communities and people Cal has met along his journey. A Legacy outfit (incorporating pieces from his three Jedi masters), an Anchorite-inspired outfit (with arm tattoos), a bounty hunter outfit (the prize after defeating the Brood), etc. Maybe a Bogling outfit? No not made from Boglings; it looks like a Bogling. Hang on lemme fix my tablet—

Narrative + Gameplay!

Explore Tanalorr: Right now this sparkly, strong-in-the-Force, temple-carved planet is a huge mystery box for Jedi 3. There's a few directions it could go - more High Republic history, another civilization (the Nihil? someone new?) lurking in the shadows, or Force-related secrets hiding below the surface. Each Jedi game has followed Cal's exploration of an ancient culture, and I think Tanalorr can be a focal point in that journey.

Defeat Sorc Tormo and the Haxion Brood: I mentioned this in an ask earlier this week, but I so want a resolution to this fight against the Brood. Especially since roaming bounty hunters would threaten the Hidden Path. Maybe Cal breaks back into Ordo Eris, or hunts down Sorc Tormo on another planet. Maybe there's a Force-only stealth section?? Maybe a big multi-wave boss fight? Maybe Caij is there??? (no she doesn't get an invite to Tanalorr)

Dark Side Force Slow: The fact that Cal's Force Slow ability kept its red-stained aura, even in the Survivor post-game, is great. I love lasting consequences and ludonarrative harmony, yes yes yes. Really hope this isn't fully resolved by the start of Jedi 3 (potential timeskip makes it tricky but whatever) and the ability receives some sort of healing through Cal finding his way out of the darkness.

Narrative!

Timeskip?: I vote no, but I think Jedi 3 will vote yes, likely to age up Kata and allow Tanalorr to be more developed. But that also means Cal and the Mantis Crew goes through character development without us (boo) or remains emotionally stunted until we get there (also boo?). I'm more comfortable with the five year gap between FO and Survivor than I used to be though, despite "missing out" on big character moments, so maybe it'll be okay. Maybe. 👀

The Hidden Path builds a home on Tanalorr: This works until it doesn't, whether from outside pressure or the threat of a spy within. I don't think Bode's fears should necessarily be validated, but I do think the risk will keep Cal on edge and hurt his ability to trust (both others and himself.) It'll drive decisions that strain his relationships and be a source of conflict for part of the game.

The Mantis gets semi-retired and then reinstated: I just love the mental picture of the Mantis parked somewhere cozy and decorated with cloth and lights and a hideout for Kata. It's become too small and high profile to use for gathering the Path, but when the plot gets going, they're gonna need her back in action.

Three main antagonists: The Empire, an unrelated third-party with their own goals (Nihil or someone else), and Cal's own demons. The first two drive the external conflict, the third drives Cal's inner conflict and the story's themes. More on that at the end.

A memorial garden: It's designed by Pili and filled with native Tanalorrian plants and trees, from which the Anchorites hang cords and windchimes and bits of colored glass. Cere's saber was buried beneath the largest tree. Cal plays her hallikset here when he's too troubled to meditate. If we want to be mean, this place gets damaged during a battle in Act 3. If we want to be less mean, this is the place that doesn't get damaged during a battle.

Kata has some sort of student-teacher relationship with Cal: I'm torn on her being Force sensitive: this is a story about Jedi and "guide her through the darkness" is pretty telling given Cal's own darkness at the end of Survivor. But Cal helping Kata (and Kata helping Cal) can happen regardless of her Force sensitivity - it would just look different. This is a soft answer because I'm still exploring ideas around it BUT admittedly the angst levels would be higher if she is sensitive.

A battle against the shadow self: Look this one is cliche. I don't care. I want a huge cavern in the depths of Tanalorr where Cal gets to fight a dark version of himself that switches between all his former enemies. If we're making a video game here let's physically beat up our darkness. Let's have it not work. Let's bring Cal to rock bottom to remind him that he is more than his darkness and he doesn't have to do this alone. Let's go back to that same fight later and then we finally win.

There's more to explore story-wise and I will eventually, but I'm overall not concerned about Jedi 3's narrative. Respawn has been very intentional with their writing of Cal Kestis and the Jedi series so far (despite some last minute changes to Survivor) and I love this character and this story because of all the great work they've created. I really hope they finish this journey the way they want to. That being said—

How should Jedi 3 end? Should Cal die?

No: I'll argue Cal dying at the end of the trilogy completely undermines the entire lesson of Survivor.

Cal wouldn't stop fighting the Empire: The Cal we meet at the beginning of Survivor definitely wouldn't. That Cal also watched countless friends die to that same fight and saw two different Jedi fall to their passions-turned-obsessions that led them to the dark side. He may wrestle with remnant obligation or a bitter apathy, but he's definitely not as single-minded as he was before.

Cal would sacrifice himself to save the Path: Yeah, he probably would. Cere did exactly that during the Siege of Jedha when all else failed. But maybe the Path could be protected without Cal needing to be a Weapon - a lesson Cere also wanted him to learn.

Another way: I think the Koboh abyss (that separates Tanalorr from the rest of the galaxy) could be destroyed. I don't know if Cal would choose to destroy it, but I think the Empire would: if they can't reach Tanalorr it's the next best thing.

Now Cal has to make a choice: Leave (continuing the fight alone) or Stay (shepherding the Path for an unknown future.) It doesn't mean they never find a way back to the known galaxy, but it'll take time. Enough time for a New Hope to appear.

Whatever your opinion of the Sequel Trilogy, the line: "That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love." is not only a complete thesis of Star Wars, but fits really well with Cal's journey. He's become very good at fighting. He wants to save everyone in Fallen Order, and he can't. He still wants to save everyone in Survivor, and they refuse him. His Fight has made a difference (again, Cere says as much) but it's clear this can't be Cal's final answer.

Choosing to protect the Path, choosing to trust the Force, choosing a home. That's what he's been fighting for. I love Cal Kestis because he isn't the chosen one and he isn't going to save the galaxy. But for his family and his community, he saved their galaxy. It's cheesy but I don't care, and you know Greez and BD would agree with me.

-

Okay this got so, so much longer than I expected. Bonus points if you made it all the way down here haha. I've had a weird assortment of concepts and ideas over the past year but never wrote them down in one place - until now. I've said it before but part of my hyperfixation with the Jedi series is because it isn't finished yet and Survivor ends on such a gut-wrenching cliffhanger. Whatever happens to this series, I'm slowly finding some sort of catharsis through all the edits and photomode shots and half-baked concepts. Thanks for tagging along ✌️

#thanks for the ask!!!!! #this is so long I'M SO SORRY #it is late and my feelings are BIG #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #cal kestis #star wars #jedi 3 concepts

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XVI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Witches and Their Source of Power…

Elain read the chapter title with a sigh, closing the ancient book and setting it on the low table, deciding she would revisit the text again in the morning. At some point, the words had started to lose much of their meaning, each paragraph making less sense than the one that had come before. 

Elain clenched her eyes shut as shadows danced along the sides of her vision, citing her lack of sleep for the tricks her mind had been playing for the last few pages. She had no one to blame but herself for the sleeping arrangements anyway, stubborn as she had been to give Lucien the bed and commit to her choice. 

As Elain adjusted her position in the armchair, tugging the blanket around her shoulders so that she could rest her head against her pillow, she was glad Lucien had stepped out of their shared chambers for a moment. Elain had spent the entire day with him, and she loathed to admit how awfully nice it had been.  

Lucien had shown her around the Forest House, the memory of his hand on the small of her back as courtiers had walked by replaying in her head every time she had a moment to herself. She could barely stand to look at Lucien without feeling the sudden urge to simply touch him,

Elain shook her head at the thought, attempting to push Lucien from her mind. Instead, she considered the Lady of Autumn’s book. Being a witch in Prythian seemed to have many meanings, some more negative than others. In Autumn, their reputation was generally good, Elain was surprised to find, but she was growing frustrated as the pages went on and she could relate to nothing within them. 

Elain wondered if she should ask Eris about getting her a book on seers, but thought better of it immediately. Eris would ask too many questions, and Elain had yet to see the Autumn heir since the celebration Beron had thrown to lift Lucien’s exile.  

She would see Eris at dinner the next day, Elain remembered. Lucien had told her about their invitation to join the High Lord for a meal, quickly declaring he had to speak with his brother before leaving Elain alone in their rooms. Lucien had not expressly told her which of his brothers he had meant to find, but Elain figured the most likely option was Eris. She furrowed her brows, tilting her head to watch as the shadows along the carpeted floor flickered strangely in the light of the dying fire. 

Elain was nervous about having to spend more time with Beron Vanserra and his sons. She did not know what to expect, and she assumed that Lucien was just as worried about how the night’s events would unfold. She hoped to fall asleep quickly, and that no dreams would wake her, so that she could be well-rested. Elain knew she would have to play her part perfectly, that the smallest misstep could have disastrous consequences. 

Just as Elain’s eyes began to droop shut, she felt a shiver travel along her spine. Instinct had her jolting upright, the room seemed dark, her hands clenched into tight fists as she searched for whatever threat her body was warning her about. 

Elain blinked as shadows seemed to slither on the floors, as they darted down the walls and collected in a spot next to the open window. In her panic, Elain grabbed the object nearest to her, the golden candelabra on the coffee table heavy in her small hands. 

I will not scream. 

Elain silently vowed, determined to handle whatever might be coming her way without assistance. She stayed tucked against her armchair, raising her makeshift weapon as the shadows slowly took shape.

The darkness took the distinct form of a man, and Elain yelped embarrassingly in recognition as his facial features became clearer. 

Elain had never seen a phantom, although she had read about the creatures. If she had not known better, she would have assumed that Azriel was one such monster. She could see right through him, the carved pattern of the window sill filtering through his shadows, like he was in the room, but somewhere else at the same time. There with her, but not entirely. 

“Oh gods,” she mumbled, kicking at her blanket, eyes widening in disbelief. She put the candelabra down with a resounding thunk, her words a hiss so that no one else could possibly hear. “Az, what are you doing here?” 

Had she been in Velaris, Elain would have rushed to pull a robe over her sleeping clothes, but the ones in Autumn were modest. The material was thick, meant to keep her warm as the sun fell and the temperature dropped. She still felt an embarrassed blush creep its way onto her cheeks. 

“Were you…” Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper, it rattled like dead leaves in the wind, odd and unnerving. “Were you going to hit me with the candlestick?”

Elain was close enough to Azriel that she could have touched him if she wished. “You can’t be here,” she stated, anxiety leaking into her tone. “Why are you here?” Elain knew the answer to her question, but she listened closely as the shadowsinger responded. 

“Rhysand and Feyre could hardly come themselves,” his lips tilted up at the corners as he continued, “and Nesta was moments away from storming Autumn to check on you.” 

“Well, I’m fine,” Elain snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose, quickly swallowing any of her frustration. “Tell everyone I’m fine.” 

Azriel frowned, his shadows whirling at his shoulders, nearly blocking him from sight. “We got your letter—”

“But you didn’t believe me?” Elain interrupted, fighting the urge to cross her arms. She had written days before and given her note to Cora who she hoped might be able to pass it to Eris. Elain was careful not to alert anyone of what she was planning in case they thought she might run off, especially since Beron believed that she was staying in Autumn with the Night Court’s knowledge.

Azriel shook his head sharply. “Of course we did,” he reassured. “We just don’t like—”

“What’s done is done,” Elain interrupted once more, her voice easily cutting off his throaty rasp. She had said the same words to Lucien when he had questioned her decision to come for him, although it felt like a lifetime ago. “Me and Lucien are handling it, so unless you’ve come with advice, I don’t want to hear about whether or not you like any of my choices.”

For a moment, it was as if the world had stopped spinning. The silence was heavy, the tension between her and Azriel thick. She had had a complicated history with the Illyrian, but enough years had passed, and his friendship was important to her. Elain hoped at the very least he would understand where she was coming from. 

With a sigh, Azriel said, “Right, of course.” He looked at her with furrowed brows, an unspoken apology in his eyes. “You’ve been alright?” 

Elain’s shoulders dropped in relief and she realised how tense she had been. “Lucien has been a perfect gentleman, so tell everyone not to worry.” 

“I think we’re all more worried about his family than we are him, Elain.” 

She waved a hand in Azriel’s direction as if to say she did not care. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she said with a shrug. She hoped desperately that Azriel could not read just how scared the High Lord of Autumn made her. 

Azriel raised a dark brow, his expression knowing. “And the wedding plans?”

Elain groaned in response, toying with the laces of her sleeping gown. “If anything, Rhysand can always winnow me away right before we say our vows.” 

“Not funny,” Azriel said with a smile. His shadows frantically rushed to envelop him, and Elain wondered if they could sense someone approaching. “I should go,” he said, confirming her thoughts. 

“You shouldn’t have come at all,” Elain clipped, taking a few steps back as more shadows whirled past her bare feet. 

Azriel ignored her comment. “Good luck, Elain. We’ll see what we can do on our end.” His form became more faint as he spoke. 

“Stay out of Autumn,” Elain warned one last time, eyes never leaving the shadowsinger. 

Azriel gave her a little bow of his head and she waved in response, a dark cloud covering him entirely. “And Elain?” She hummed, ears straining to hear him. “If you want to keep up the act, the bed should really smell like both of you.” 

Azriel disappeared suddenly, no trace of his visit left behind, and Elain could do nothing but stare at the empty space where he had just been. Almost as if she were in a trance, Elain faced the bed with wide eyes. 

Lucien always made the bed perfectly, covers tucked into place neatly, pillows organised. She walked slowly to the one side, her fingers trailing along the thick fur blanket. Elain could hear her own heartbeat, blood rushing to her ears as she gripped the edge of the covers. Her knuckles were white around the fabric and Elain had to remind herself to stay calm. She pulled the sheets loose, flipping them over to reveal the comfortable mattress beneath. 

Elain closed her eyes, knowing that she would lose her nerve otherwise. It was better that Lucien was not there to watch, she thought, blowing a stray curl away from her face. 

“Fuck,” she mumbled as she laid down, “fuck me.” If Nesta and Feyre could hear her now, Elain thought, they would surely think she had gone completely mad. Her behaviour was improper, and entirely out of character, but she could not be bothered to care. 

In the bed, Lucien’s scent was overwhelming, just as she had feared. Instead of cringing away, like she had expected, Elain simply tucked her face deeper into the pillows, unable to stop herself from breathing in. 

He is mine. 

Elain was so tired, she did not even take the time to examine the possessive thought. For the first time since she had arrived in Autumn, Elain was comfortable. Her body was instantly grateful, relaxing quickly, eyes falling shut easily.

Elain could feel sleep claiming her, slowly but surely. She barely stirred as the door to the suite opened and she became aware of Lucien’s presence. When he paused at the foot of the bed, Elain tried to pretend she was asleep, but when he whispered her name, he captured her attention fully. 

“Get into bed, Lucien,” she simply mumbled, hoping he would not ask any questions.

“With you?” He whispered back, sounding unsure of himself. 

“D’you see another bed in here?” she responded. Lucien said nothing in return, but Elain heard his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom, and she heard them once more as he approached the opposite side of the bed. 

When the mattress dipped with his weight, Elain felt a strange sense of triumph at how little effort it took for Lucien to simply listen and accept the decisions she made. 

Lucien stayed on the edge of the bed, frozen in place for longer than Elain figured was normal. When the time stretched on, she lazily opened an eye to look at him. His broad back was to her, the shirt he wore pulling across his shoulders. 

“We can share,” Elain said softly. “There’s more than enough room on the bed, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

Lucien did not look towards her, but Elain could hear the smile gracing his features as he spoke. “Guess I won’t have to worry about my virtue?” 

Elain snorted, unladylike but uncaring. “Our scents haven’t mixed,” she added, hoping that would be explanation enough for her sudden change of heart when it came to her sleeping on the armchair. 

Lucien’s back straightened, like he had just realised their mistake. “And the dinner tomorrow…” 

“Exactly,” Elain wondered how they had both missed such a small but vital detail. She was even surprised that Cora, or even Eris, had yet to mention it. Perhaps the scent of the mating bond had been enough to redirect everyone’s attention, Elain considered. 

“I like the way you think, Elain.” His tone suggested he was so impressed with her that she decided not to mention Azriel’s influence. 

“Did you speak with Eris?” She mumbled, still wanting confirmation that she had been correct in her assumption. She shut her eyes as she felt Lucien shift. 

Getting under the covers and adjusting the pillows, Lucien’s warmth was like that of a fire as he lay down next to her. Even with her eyes closed, Elain knew that he was near, the distance between them small. She felt a warm blush travel from her neck to the tips of her pointed ears, knowing that sharing a bed with a man she barely knew was improper. “Eris was with Callum.” Elain hummed softly and he continued. “They both had some good advice,” he admitted, and she could tell he had not been expecting it. 

Elain yawned, exhaustion taking over. “Tell me in the morning,” she murmured, opening her eyes to find Lucien entirely too close. She wanted to rake her fingers through the dark red strands of his hair, to tuck her face into the crook of his neck. 

My mate. 

“And move, just a little,” Elain added, her words a breath. Unthinking, the pull of the bond clearly affecting her ability to be reasonable, she pressed her palm to his chest. She felt him tense beneath her touch, he was solid muscle under the thin fabric of his sleeping shirt, leaving very little to the imagination. Elain was glad for the darkness, knowing in the light he would have been able to see her blush. 

Elain could have moved her hand quickly, but she chose not to. She felt his heartbeat just beneath the pads of her fingers, letting her hand linger for a moment. “Good night, Lucien.” 

Elain did not hear his response, instead her mind was fixed on the steady beat of his heart, the sound a comfort as she eased into a dreamless sleep.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #azriel acotar #the autumn court #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire #i cannot get the tags to work :( #BUT elain and lucien are finally getting somewhere #thank you to everyone who takes the time to comment and reblog and like <3

[silversnakes-yan]

✲𝓐𝓻𝓵𝓸 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓳𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼✲

Arlo sat at the kitchen table, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. Across the room, you laughed with his two younger sisters, Lucia and Sofia. They were sprawled on the living room floor, flipping through an old photo album and reminiscing about their childhood adventures. Every so often, you would glance over at Arlo, your eyes twinkling with amusement, before returning to the stories Lucia and Sofia were eagerly recounting.

"So, Arlo used to dress up in Mom's old clothes and pretend to be a pirate," Lucia giggled, pointing to a picture of a five-year-old Arlo in a makeshift pirate costume, complete with a frilly blouse and a scarf tied around his head.

You laughed, your voice ringing out in the room. "I wish I could've seen that!"

Arlo's face flushed red. "That was years ago. And it was for a play," he muttered, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Sofia smirked and turned to you. "You should hear about the time he got stuck in a tree trying to rescue a kitten. He was up there for hours before Dad got home to help him down."

"Really, Sofia? Do we have to go through every embarrassing moment of my life?" Arlo snapped, his irritation clear.

You smiled sweetly at him, your eyes full of mischief. "Oh, come on, Arlo. It's fun learning about your childhood. Besides, your sisters have so many great stories."

Lucia and Sofia exchanged a knowing glance, their grins widening. They loved teasing their older brother, especially when it came to his new relationship. They could tell how much Arlo liked you, and they’re delighted in pushing his buttons.

"You know, Arlo," Lucia began, her voice innocent but her eyes dancing with mischief, "maybe if you hung out with us more, They wouldn't have to hear all these stories from us."

"Yeah," Sofia chimed in, "we're just trying to help them get to know you better. It's not our fault if they like spending time with us."

Arlo's scowl deepened. "I spend plenty of time with them. You two just happen to be around all the time."

You get up to sit with him at the table. You reached out and squeezed his hand, your touch instantly calming him. "It's okay, Arlo. I like your sisters. They're fun."

Arlo sighed, his tension easing a bit. "I know. It's just... they always do this."

Lucia and Sofia burst into laughter, their eyes twinkling with glee. "We love you too, big brother," Lucia said, giving him a mock salute.

Sofia leaned closer to Lucia, whispering loudly enough for Arlo to hear. "You know, he gets really cute when he's all grumpy and jealous."

Arlo's face turned a deeper shade of red. "I am not jealous!"

You giggled and leaned into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Maybe just a little," you teased.

Arlo huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just don't see why you like hanging out with them so much."

"Because they're great," you said simply, looking up at him with a smile. "But you know what? You're pretty great too."

Lucia and Sofia made exaggerated gagging noises, but their eyes were soft as they looked at their brother and his girlfriend. Despite their teasing, they were genuinely happy to see Arlo with someone who made him so obviously happy.

Arlo grumbled under his breath, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Just... don't tell them about the time I tried to bake a cake and set the kitchen on fire, okay?"

Lucia and Sofia burst into laughter again, and even you couldn't suppress her giggles. Arlo sighed, resigned to his fate. But as your laughter mingled with his sisters', he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind so much after all.

#🔫 arlo r. #yandere #yandere gang #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere boyfriend #yandere ocs

[moonshynecybin]

i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:

“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”

“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.

It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.

“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”

Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.

“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.” 

Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.

He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.

“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”

“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.

“Semantics.” Another poke.

Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory. 

“You were cheating! And you still lost!” 

“But you don’t have any proof of that.”

And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”

Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.

“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”

Marc shakes his head.

“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.

He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.

Nothing’s felt— he’s busy. 

It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.

But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–

He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.

It’s— 

He's heard that laugh before. 

They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left. 

Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.

And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.

Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.

Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”

Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine. 

He's had a lot of practice.

Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.

He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.

And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.

He knows that.

But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.

Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.

He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard. 

“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.

He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.

Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.

Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.

Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.

Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.

“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.

“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”

“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.

So why is he asking now.

Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”

It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.

It could also be a lie.

“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.

“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”

Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”

The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?

“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.

“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.

Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.

He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.

“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.

But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.

Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.

He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.

“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”

He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.

Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.

There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.

“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”

Marc blinks.

“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”

Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.

“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.

“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him. 

Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”

Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.

But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.

He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him. 

He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.

“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”

Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.

Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.

“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”

Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.

“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.” 

Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.

Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”

“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”

“Once is enough!”

“Apparently.” Marc hits back. 

And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.

Once is enough. Apparently.

Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.

“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.

Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi. 

And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.

Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.

They haven’t even touched.

Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.

He smiles.

Maybe he is doing something wrong.

Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.

The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.

#toting with a marc who does not in fact realize he wants to fuck that old man but is obsessed with him nonetheless. #dw still working on prompts this was just. done lol #motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #my fic

[garbinge]

Thanksgiving

Richie Jerimovich x Platonic!Reader mention of Carmy Berzatto x Platonic!Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge (15/30)

A/N: Patiently waiting for June 27th lololol

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Light angst, shit talking, cursing (lots), family problems, daddy issues. Mentions of someone losing their life from alcoholism, homelessness, hitting rock bottom.

The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas @gills-lounge @navs-bhat @cosmicak @kmc1989 Other fics from this universe

The knock on your door wasn’t what you were expecting at 11:30 on Thanksgiving night. You weren’t exactly dressed for company in your pajamas, but the knocking was insistent so there wasn’t a way to ignore it or have time to change. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m coming!” You called out as you made your way to the entrance and opened the door. 

“You don’t look through the peephole before answering the door? I coulda been a murderer.” Richie was standing at the door of your apartment in one of his few nice sweaters with a tote bag in his hand. 

“You here to murder me, Rich?” You stepped back and welcomed him in with a sway of your arm. 

“I’m here to feed you, you weren’t at Thanksgiving.” He didn’t waste any time from when you invited him in and was already in the kitchen placing the bag down. “Why weren’t you at Thanksgiving?” 

You took a deep breath and let out a harsh exhale, this wasn’t something you were expecting to talk about at this moment. 

“Um, I’ve had my fair share of unstable parents lately.” You brought your hand up to your head as the past few conversations with your father flashed through your mind quickly. 

Richie stopped pulling things out of the tote bag and looked up at you. “Your dad call you again? What was he lookin’ for before? Baseball cards right? You should hook ‘em up with the Faks, they got that baseball card scheme runnin’, the stupid fucks.” He let out a laugh and continued to pull stuff out of the bag. 

Any other day, you’d join him in the banter. Any other day you’d enjoy it, but today wasn’t any other day. 

“Richie.” You said his name so solemnly and he looked up at you immediately. It broke you seeing his face drop from a smile to a straight mouthed expression but you didn’t have much left in you to take it back. The next best thing you could do was explain. “Uh, Thanksgiving is just–” you paused for a minute as your brain searched for the right word. “It’s a day for me, alright.” You felt yourself get tense, the emotions that you didn’t want to think about, feel, or simply acknowledge were rising to the surface and it was making you angry. Your eyes closed out of instinct, an exercise to push the rage back down, and after taking a deep breath you re-opened them and stared at Richie. 

Richie’s face didn’t change, it was still as heartbreaking as before even though it would have been described as neutral. 

“How was Donna tonight?” You changed the topic quick and moved over to look at what Richie had in the tupperware containers. 

“How do you think?” It was said like the conversation prior didn’t even happen. 

“Yea, I figured.” You let out a snort. “She make the cannolis?” Your eyes were scanning around the containers looking for them. 

“They’re somewhere in here, let me start putting this shit away and I’ll find ‘em.” He was turning around to face your fridge now. As the door to the cooler swung open, he froze. It went unnoticed by you as you continued to bury your emotions down so you didn’t start a misguided fight. 

“What the fuck is this?” Richie was pointing inside the fridge and then at the container on the stovetop. Despite the cursing, he didn’t seem mad or pointed, just confused. 

As your eyebrows raised and you turned around to see what he was talking about, you answered quickly. 

“Oh, Carmy dropped off food for me last night.” 

“Carmy knew you weren’t coming to Thanksgiving?” Now that statement held a little hurt in it, but you acted like you couldn’t tell. 

“Carmy knows I never come to Thanksgiving.” You added a shrug to the statement to help make it seem nonchalant. 

“I didn’t know you never come to Thanksgiving.” It was mumbled, like he was embarrassed. 

“Why would you?” Another shrug left your shoulders and you moved to help him move a couple things in the fridge. 

“Because I notice when you’re around.” It was such a soft statement that any other time it would have melted you to your core. But you could tell for him it was also like he was defending himself behind this sweet statement. 

The bantering part of you wanted to retort that statement with a ‘clearly not.’ since you hadn’t been at a Berzatto Thanksgiving in over a decade, but with how Richie was talking and where you were at mentally tonight, you knew it wasn’t going to be good for either of you. 

“It’s the first year that we’re–,” you stopped yourself at that statement because you didn’t know what you were and this was not the night you wanted to take the time to define it. “It’s the first year you’d actually notice, it’s not a big deal.” 

“I guess I just missed you, and feel like something important is happening and everyone knows but me.” 

Shocked would have been an understatement. Did Richie Jerimovich just express how he was feeling? 

“You been reading that book?” You frowned, a smile forming slightly on your face as you stared up him. 

“Fuck you, yea I been reading that book.” The self-consciousness flooding his senses at your look. 

“Everyone doesn’t know. Just Carmy.” If you knew the weight the last two words would leave on him, you probably wouldn’t have said them but it was too late, the words were already hanging in the air. 

“And the reason Carmy knows is because he’s known since 10 years or whatever ago.” You hoped that would offer up enough explanation to hold him over a bit. 

“So what did Carmy bring you?” Richie was moving past you to look into the fridge again. 

“Not cannolis.” Moving in the opposite direction you started searching in the bag. 

“I brought too much shit, your fridge is stocked, shit’s gonna go bad.” 

“What did Pete bring this time?” The clicking of the to-go container muffled your question but it was worth it as you pulled out one of 5 cannolis. 

“A fuckin’ pie.” Annoyance was dripping off his tone. He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. 

Your head snapped at him, your mouth full of pistachio cannoli, surprise written all over your face. 

“That sounds good.” 

“It was fuckin’ rhubarb.” Richie spit out, his arms still crossed and eyebrows frowning as he remembered the pie. 

“God, who the fuck likes rhubarb.” Your face twisted in disgust, the shock fully faded now as the realization that Pete didn’t succeed yet again in his gracious hosting gifts this holiday. 

“That’s what I fuckin’ said. It’s a god damn vegetable.” 

You let out a laugh at that as you took another bite of the cannoli. 

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for him.” Now you were just making conversation. 

“Never was for you.” Richie shrugged as he recalled what rotation of items you’d bring to different Berzatto gatherings. “Hot chocolate, olive oil, those toffee chocolate things, one year you brought those stuffed olives.” 

The shock came back and became very apparent on your face again as you turned to look at him for an answer.

“I told you I notice.” His hands lifted in innocence. “Plus your hot chocolate is the fuckin’ best, hard to forget.” 

“There’s some in the pot.” You pointed to the stove but then went to grab two mugs. 

The two of you melted into a comfortable silence, the tapping of your wooden spoon as it stirred in the pot of hot chocolate, the metal spoons clinking in the mugs as the liquid poured into them. The TV was at a lulled volume in the background, the slight sounds of Steve Harvey’s voice as family feud reruns ran. 

As the two of you were on the last legs of your hot chocolate, Richie spoke up. 

“You watchin’ The Game Show Network?” There was humor behind the question mixed with true curiosity as he heard the old school game show mumbling in the background.

“It’s relaxing.” There was no defense in your voice as you said it, mug close to your face. “And it makes me laugh.” 

“Relaxing and laughing on Thanksgiving. Not sure I’ve seen that combination in a while.” He was opening your dishwasher to drop the empty mug into it. 

You raised your eyebrows at that knowing exactly what he meant and knowing it was 100% true. 

“Hey, you wanna go with me somewhere?” Your eyes were looking at the time and seeing it was just a little past 12. 

“Where? Everywhere’s closed?” 

You had already moved to the other side of oyur kitchen island and were grabbing your coat off the back of the bar chair. 

“Can you pack up like 6 containers from Carmy and like 3 of the containers you brought?” It took Richie a minute to understand what you said since you had been bent down slipping into your shoes. 

Although confused, Richie did what you said, making sure the cannolis weren’t any of the containers he packed in the tote he had brought over. As you re-entered the kitchen, you peaked in the bag and nodded. Quickly you pulled out a ziploc and took one of the cannolis out and dropped it into the plastic before carefully placing it in the tote. 

As the two of you hit the Chicago streets, there were a couple flurries of snow falling, nothing substantial that would stick, but it set a tone. Your one arm was holding onto the the tote back as your hand hid from the cold in your jacket pocket but your other hand moved to wrap around Richie’s arm. 

The gesture made him get out of his head and turn to look down at you. 

“You wanna tell me where we’re going?” He brought his arm in tighter against yours. 

“You’ll see.” 

It was all you were willing to give up as you began walking towards Millenium Park. 

“Millenium Park after 12AM, sounds like a great time.” Richie was taking his free hand and reaching to grab his pack of cigarettes. 

“It actually is.” You spoke with such conviction that it actually shocked Richie. You were so upset earlier and now you were speaking with a hint of hope in your voice. 

The music you started to hear as you approached the infamous Chicago Bean filled your face with a smile. You lived in Chicago most of your life so hitting tourist spots like this wasn’t exactly a common occurrence but this was a tradition you kept for yourself and now were bringing Richie into it. 

There was a street performer about 20 feet from them, the violin was loud and the acoustics were incredible as it echoed off the landmarks around them. The smile on the man’s face as he played was enough to tell a million stories. He was having fun, despite the cold, the snow, the fact it was a holiday and he was here performing, he was genuinely enjoying this. 

“That’s Morgan.” You whispered to Richie like it was a high class secret. “He’s incredible.” You brought your other hand up to rest on his arm that was still holding your other one. 

“He brings a crowd.” He was looking around at all the people that were standing around him. 

“There’s more people every year.” You said it like a proud parent. 

“Every year?” Richie asked, not taking his eyes off the performance. 

There were a few minutes of silence as you debated how you were going to answer his question. 

“I come here every year. One thanksgiving, I was out here looking for something and ended up coming across Morgan. I come here every year now. The crowd used to be like 5 people and look now.” 

“That what the food is for?” Richie was smiling now understanding what the girl was up to. 

Just as he spoke the words, the violin sound was cut and the crowd began clapping loudly. “I’m going to take a short break, be back in 5 minutes.” He waved and placed his violin down to take a sip of the water jug he had next to his stuff. 

You approached the man and before you could even say anything, he was bellowing a deep hello to you. Following his hug he looked down at the food and shook his head. “You’re always over feeding me, kid.” 

“Who doesn’t like leftovers?” You crossed your arms and stepped back slightly bumping into Richie. “Oh, Morgan this is Richie.” You grabbed Richie’s arm and stepped behind him slightly to introduce him. 

“Nice to meet you, Richie.” Morgan spoke curiously.

‘Back at you man, you got a real talent, truly incredible.” He turned on that typical Richie charm.

“You humble me, dude. I’m just a Chicago kid tryna enjoy the holiday.” He waved him off. 

“Did you get to see Sandra this year?” You spoke with hope in your tone. 

“She had me over earlier today.” Morgan was grinning. 

“Morgan, that's incredible! From just coffee last year, to thanksgiving this year!” You leaned forward and tapped his arm. “Guess you don’t need my food.” You teased him and went to jokingly grab the bag back but not before he leaned down and blocked you from it. 

“Hey now, this is top of the line fine dining food you give me.” 

“And I packed a homemade cannoli in there for you.” Richie was smirking at the whole interaction. 

“See the man packed little ol me a homemade cannoli, don’t strip a man of a thanksgiving cannoli, now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” With a step back you wrapped your arm around Richie’s. 

Morgan looked down at it and back at the both of you with a wider smile now. “Hope y’all had a lovely Thanksgiving.” 

“Think it just got a lot better.” Richie nodded at him and then looked down at you. 

“We’ll let you finish your break, but I’m so happy about Sandra, seriously Morgan, that’s great news.” You went to give him one last hug. 

“Happy to see you out here with someone this year, seems like you finally found what you were looking for.” He was talking at a volume only you could hear as he hugged you. 

“Funny enough, Morgan. I wasn’t looking for it at all. Just happened.” You whispered back.

“The best things do.” He was clearly talking about your friendship, how it came to be out of a time where you weren’t expecting or looking for it all. “Happy Thanksgiving, kid.” 

As you moved back into the crowd with Richie, he took the opportunity to link your arms back together as he asked you a question. 

“Whose Sandra?”

“The woman who has his wife’s heart.” 

The sentence was so heavy, the more thought you put into it, every scenario that it could have been felt more heartbreaking than the last. 

His head snapped to you and you nodded. “His wife died from liver disease and she was an organ donor, so her heart went to Sandra. He’d been trying to find her for a while, finally did, at first they wrote letters, last year she met him for coffee, and this year she had him over.” 

“That’s incredible.” Richie was in shock. “Why Thanksgiving? Or just because?” He was genuinely invested in the story now. 

“Thanksgiving is the night his wife lost her life, but the night Sandra kept hers.” You explained the situation to Richie. 

“Holy shit.” He brought his hand up to his face and wiped it down as the weight of it all sunk in. 

“What’s he doing out here?” Richie frowned trying to piece that part of it together. 

“He kind of lost everything when he lost his wife, his place, his job, his will to live I’d even go far enough to say.” You thought back on the earlier years of meeting Morgan, he was your father’s age, and clearly had experienced loss in his life. That was what bonded you, because while you were going through the biggest loss of your short teenage life at that time, you came across someone who knew what losing someone to alcohol felt like. 

“That’s rough.” Richie nodded and before the conversation could really continue, the sound of the music filled the space again and the crowd moved in tighter. Richie and you stayed near the back and despite everything being fine between you two, you felt the tension from earlier coming back. 

It was hard for you to talk about it, but Morgan’s words about finding what you were looking for were in your head and it made you realize, maybe you could open up a bit about it all. 

One thanksgiving, I was out here looking for something and ended up coming across Morgan. I come here every year now. 

That one thanksgiving, you were out here looking for your Dad, your drunken dad, you later found him at the bus stop across from The Beef. He didn’t see you, but you saw him, fully packed, despite his inebriated state, he had thought through leaving enough that he packed bags. 

With a sigh, your arm squeezed tighter around Richie’s and you said 5 words that you hoped would be enough to explain to Richie why today was so hard for you without having to dive into so much detail. 

“My dad left on Thanksgiving.” 

#The Bear #The Bear FX #The Bear Fanfiction #The Bear fanfic #richie jerimovich #Richie Jerimovich x Reader #Richie Jerimovich Fanfiction #Richie Jerimovich fanfic

[iwoulddothingstothisman]

The Love in His Eyes

"Cas for the I don't know how many-eth time could we please get some fucking help." Dean rasped while trying to hack the head of the vampire pinning him against the wall.

Finally he got through its neck and wiped the blood off of his face. He was just about to yell for Sam when he heard Cas say, 'close your eyes,' and once he saw Sam do it he closed his eyes. Just after he did so he heard what could only be described as a giant thunderclap and a faint sizzling followed by a blinding white light even through his eyelids.

He didn't know how long he had his eyes closed for but he didn't open them until he felt someone touch his shoulder followed by the familiar tingle of Grace. He was met with Cas's face inches from his own.

"Woah there Buddy, two steps back if ya can," Dean said using a hand to gently push Cas away from him, letting it linger on his chest for maybe a second too long.

"You're hurt." Was all Cas said.

"I'm fine, I promise." Dean gently squeezed Cas' shoulder before walking away to find Sam.

 Sam was still lying down where a couple vampires previously had him pinned, looking like he was just happy to be alive. Dean leaned down and gave him a hand which Sam held onto tightly then hauled him up and slipped Sam's arm over his shoulders. Slowly they hobbled over to Cas who was just watching the both of them.

"Gimme a hand here, Cas." Dean gestured with his head to the other side of Sam.

Cas walked over and slipped Sam's other arm over his shoulder and placed his hand in between Sam's shoulder blades. As they walked Cas used his Grace to heal Sam and what little of Dean he could get to from where he was touching Sam.

It was a long ride back to their motel room but by the time they had gotten there Sam was almost completely healed and Dean was doing better than he was to begin with. He would have been much better though if he hadn't shoved Cas'  hand off him with a grunt and a mumbled, 'save your Grace.' Cas was going to argue that he had more than enough to heal Dean but a silent, borderline pleading prayer had him settling.

Dean tried to help Sam out again but was shoved off with a glare.

"If anyone should be helping anyone, I should be helping you." He said while giving Dean a pointed look.

"I'm fine."

They had just gotten inside when Cas opened his mouth again.

"Dean, why do you insist that you're fine even when you're not?" He asked.

"Sam, go have a shower."

"Since when do you not want first shower?" He asked.

"Sam, shower."

"Alright, alright." He said raising his hands in surrender. He grabbed a change of clothes and slowly walked into the bathroom, Dean glaring at him the whole time. Only once the door shut and the lock clicked did he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Because I do, Cas. Any other questions?" He asked.

"Why do you feel the need to hide?" He had his adorable little head tilt going on because of course he does. Is he trying to kill Dean.

"Because I don't have a whole lot that's worth seeing."

"Of course you do. Your soul alone is the most beautiful one I've ever seen." Cas held his gaze and even though the intensity and sincerity of it scared Dean a little, he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"I- what, you can't serious." Dean backed up a step only for Cas to follow him.

"But I am, I won't lie and say it's not damaged, I can see where Hell has worn it but when I was putting it back together, putting you back together all I could think about was recreating this gorgeous man, this oh so important man and how I was the one lucky enough to do it." Cas lifted his hand to let it hover just next to Dean's cheek, not quite touching it.

"You're not too bad looking yourself," Dean mumbled before shifting to the side a little so that Cas' hand was resting on his cheek.

They held each other's gaze for a little before they moved together and held the other tightly, Dean had his face pressed into the crook of Cas' neck and Cas was holding Dean close with a hand on the base of his neck and lower back.

Sam smiled as he moved away from the wall to step into the shower knowing that his big brother was getting the care he so desperately needed and thoroughly deserved.

Ah yes, the fear of being perceived.

Again if anyone sees any obvious (or not so obvious) errors please point it out, hope you enjoyed it and remember to drink water.

#destiel pride #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester

[ltash]

Ramshackled

You and Ghost are in love and he takes care of you after you get wounded.

"My heart is a battlefield of love and pain, torn between what is right and what I want."

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, time frozen around us. His grip was tight, lifting me as he stood. I was standing on my tiptoes.

Captain Price cleared his throat. "If you two lovebirds are done, we have an interrogation to proceed with."

Simon slowly let me go. "You should rest, Nora," he said, kissing my forehead and grabbing his gun from the floor.

"The slap hurt," he pointed out, touching his cheek before winking at me and turning to go.

I returned to the hospital, back to my room, and sat on my bed, the weight of everything sinking in.

About an hour passed, and Ghost returned with Captain Price. They had a woman with them. I stood up, scrutinizing her features. She was the same woman from the drug cartel.

Mere seconds later, Ghost pushed the woman, and she landed at my feet. "Apologize!" Ghost growled.

"I am sorry," the woman said.

"Who is she?" I asked.

"She is El Sin Nombre. Valeria," Ghost replied. "She is responsible for everything."

"Take her back, Ghost," I said, sitting back on the bed and looking away. "It doesn't matter anymore. I don't need an apology now."

"What her men and she did to you, and you're still saying this?" Ghost replied, incredulity in his voice.

"Yes," I said firmly. "Because the damage has already been done." I looked at the woman. "You can go now."

The woman glanced at Ghost, unsure.

"I forgive you," I said, my voice steady but my heart heavy. "Now, go."

Ghost stared at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and admiration. He turned to Valeria and motioned for her to leave. She hesitated for a moment before standing up and walking out, escorted by Captain Price.

Ghost remained, his gaze fixed on me, trying to understand the depth of my strength and forgiveness.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked, sitting on the bed in front of me. His concern was palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. I kept looking the other way.

"I’m fine," I said quietly, "but I’m not the same anymore. The Nora in me died last night. I don’t know what remains of me now."

Ghost reached out, his gloved hand gently turning my face toward him. "You're still you, Nora. You’re strong, and you’re here. That’s what matters."

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. "It doesn’t feel that way, Simon. It feels like I’ve lost everything that made me...me."

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "We’ll find a way to get through this, together. You’re not alone. Not ever."

I buried my face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow.

"I don’t know how I’ll cover the damages," I murmured, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. "Millions of dollars worth of inventory burned with my office building. I might have to sell my home or what’s left of my father’s company."

Ghost held me tighter, his voice steady and reassuring. "We’ll figure it out, Nora. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll find a way."

"But Simon," I protested, "it's too much. I can’t ask you to carry this burden with me. You have your own responsibilities."

He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes with a fierce determination. "You’re my responsibility, Nora. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. We’ll rebuild everything together."

I nodded slowly, taking comfort in his words even as doubt lingered in my mind. "I just don’t want to lose everything my father worked so hard for."

"You won’t," he said firmly. "We’ll find a way to keep the company alive. But first, you need to rest and recover. We’ll tackle everything else one step at a time."

I sighed, feeling a small glimmer of hope amidst the despair. "Okay. One step at a time."

"One step at a time," he echoed, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "We’ll get through this, Nora. I promise."

"For now, just come with me," he said softly. "Let's go to my room and rest. I will take care of you."

I looked up at him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. For a moment, I hesitated, still feeling the weight of everything that had happened. But then, I nodded, letting him guide me.

As we walked to his room, the silence between us was comforting. It felt like a promise that, no matter what, he would be there for me. We reached his room, and he gently helped me sit on the bed.

"Lie down and rest," he said, pulling a blanket over me. "I’ll be right here."

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the blanket and the reassurance of his presence. "Thank you, Simon," I whispered.

He took off his vest and set his gun aside before climbing into the bed with me. Heat radiated from his body as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. His presence was a comforting warmth against the chill that had settled in my bones.

"I've got you, love," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Rest now. We'll figure everything out together."

I nestled closer, allowing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to soothe me.

I was so tired, my body so sore. I rested my head on his chest.

"You know, Simon, I love sleeping on you," I said in a sleepy voice, trailing my finger down his chest.

He stroked his fingers through my tangled hair, a gentle rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. Slowly, I closed my eyes, feeling his warmth and strength surrounding me. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I allowed myself to drift into a peaceful sleep.

In the morning, when I opened my eyes, my head was nestled on his arm as he spooned me from behind. His other arm was wrapped around me, his face buried in the back of my neck, and I could feel his warm breaths. I turned around to face him.

He looked so peaceful while asleep. I cupped his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb. Leaning in, I kissed his forehead, then the crooked bridge of his broken nose, and finally, my lips brushed against his. He opened his eyes slowly. His lips parted to say something, but I placed my finger on them.

"Ssh!" I hushed him before pressing my lips onto his, kissing him sensually. His grip on my back tightened as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.

I was intoxicated but I knew i couldn't go further with him because of my condition.

"Simon". I whispered. We shouldn't be doing this. I said

"I know," he murmured against my lips, his breath warm and reassuring. He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine. "I'm here for you, Nora, no matter what. We'll take things slow, okay?"

"Okay." I whispered.

He got up from the bed slowly.

"Your dressing needs to be changed then we'll have breakfast together." He said.

He went out of the room and came  back after 15 minutes with dressing supplied.

Sitting beside me on the bed. He inspected my bandage hidden under the cargo pants.

With careful hands, Simon assisted me in sliding down my cargo pants, then carefully cut away the previous bandage. After cleaning the wound gently, which had already been stitched by the doctors, he wrapped the new bandage around it. Finally, he helped me pull my pants back up.

"I want to take a shower," I said.

"But your bandage?" Simon asked, concerned. "Let me wash your hair for you. I'll take care of the rest."

He placed a small chair by the sink, and I leaned against it. Gently, he rinsed and washed my tangled hair with shampoo. After wrapping a towel around my head, he filled the bathtub for me.

"Don't let your bandage get wet," he instructed. "I'm waiting outside. Take your time."

He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom. I rested my head against the edge of the bathtub, careful not to soak my bandage. As I soaked in the warm water, I felt grateful for everything he had done for me. I decided then and there that, come what may, even if I had to sell my big house, I would buy another in his hometown so that I could always be near him.

I came out, a towel wrapped around me, my clothes in my hand. He had brought another pair of clothes, thankfully in my size. "Here," he said, handing them to me.

He helped me get changed, his hands gentle and careful. I combed my hair and let it fall loose down my back.

"Let's go outside. I want to introduce you to the other team we work with," he said, offering me his hand. I took it, feeling a sense of warmth and security, and walked with him outside the room.

We reached the cafeteria holding hands. Alejandro, Rodolfo, Captain Price, Soap, Gaz, and Phillip Graves were sitting at a table.

"Come join us," Captain Price said, motioning to the empty seats.

Ghost pulled out a chair for me, and we sat down together.

"So, you're Nora Grace," Phillip Graves said, looking at me with interest.

"Yes, I am. You American?" I asked, noting his accent.

"Yes, you from the South too?" Graves asked.

"Yes. From Houston, Texas," I replied.

"Ye haven't seen Nora shootin' a sniper. Man! The way she shot the enemies when we were attacked looked like she was a pro," Soap added with enthusiasm.

"Thanks, Soap," I said, smiling at him.

"How did you learn to shoot, hermana?" Alejandro asked this time, his curiosity piqued.

"Ghost taught me. He is the best sniper in the task force," I said, holding Ghost's arm affectionately. Ghost remained stoic, but I could see a hint of pride in his eyes.

Captain Price chimed in, "She's the daughter of the late General Marshall, who retired before General Shepherd. She surely has army genes in her."

"Why don't you join the Taskforce, Nora?" Soap suggested with a grin.

"Or Shadow Company," Phillip Graves added.

"She is not joining any team now, let alone the Taskforce," Ghost said firmly, holding my hand.

I looked at Ghost and then smiled. "Or, if I could, I would join the Taskforce any day to support you, Ghost."

Ghost's grip on my hand tightened slightly, and a rare, soft look crossed his face. "Let's just focus on getting you better first, yeah?" he said, his voice gentle.

"We have a mission tonight," Captain Price announced, his tone serious. "Our intel suggests the missile is on the oil rig. We have to destroy it before it leaves for Washington."

"What? A missile? Is Washington, D.C. in danger?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"Yes, kid. It's Hassan's target," Captain Price confirmed. "We need to destroy it before it wipes out the whole city. Our team, along with Phillip Graves, is heading out today to take care of it. Wish us luck."

"All will go well, Captain Price," I said, trying to sound confident. "My wishes and prayers are always with you guys. You will succeed."

Price nodded, appreciation in his eyes. "Thank you, Nora. We'll make sure of it."

"Aye lass! You are so brave. Hitting LT on his face. No one has ever done that." Soap chuckled.

Ghost glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Yes, she is a fighter, and I need her to be brave every time for me."

"You are lucky, Ghost, to have found a girl like her," Alejandro said.

"No, I am lucky to have found him," I replied, holding Ghost's arm tightly.

"Hey! Let's go to the shooting range, lass. Show us your sniper skills," Soap said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides, I've got your sniper with me that Ghost gave you."

"What? You got it? I thought I would never get it back," I said, surprised and excited.

"Yeah! You left it beside me when they took you. I made sure I kept your guns safe for you," he said, grinning.

"You are not well, Nora. You can't go to the shooting range now," Ghost interjected, concern etched on his face.

"I'm doing better, Ghost. Let me go with Soap, please. I need fresh air too," I added, trying to reassure him.

"It's okay, but I will go with you," he said, relenting.

"Let me bring your guns," Soap said as he stood up.

"We'll come with you," Alejandro added. "Show us your skills, hermana."

"Of course," I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and determination.

Soap returned with my sniper and Glock, handing them to me. Ghost gave me a holster for my gun, and I wore it with the sniper in my hand.

"Hermana, you look like one of us, the Vaqueros," Alejandro said, a hint of pride in his voice.

"Yes, she looks like a soldier," Soap chuckled.

"I am one of you guys. I'm a fighter, fighting my own battles within myself," I answered.

With that, I bolted and reloaded the sniper, positioning it against my shoulder. I pulled the trigger, and shots rang out as I aimed towards the target. Most of the bullets hit near the center.

Ghost cheered me on, and I wrapped my arms around him. "You did so well, Nora," Soap said, patting my shoulder.

I noticed Phillip Graves narrowing his eyes at me. Throughout the time, he had been watching me intently. Ghost noticed it too, but he didn't say a word.

Captain Price gave me a side hug. "So proud of you, kid. Like father, like daughter," he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride.

"Ghost gave me his hand. 'Let's go inside, Nora. I have to prepare for our next mission.'

'You noticed Graves, how he was looking at me,' I said while entering the room.

'Yes, I noted it. He's just jealous of who you are, Nora. Much better than him in every way,' Ghost replied.

'I don't think so. He's good with his words, and he's a trained soldier,' I replied.

'Yes, he is, but I don't trust him,' Ghost said.

'Be careful who you trust. People you know can hurt you the most,' Ghost added, his words weighing heavily on me.

I kept staring at him, realizing the gravity of his words. He was absolutely right."

#cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x oc #task force 141 #task force x reader

[yourboopyboop]

Bake me a Bun

Soap/Retired!Soap x f!reader Fluff with a slight suggestive line, daydreaming, get this man a baby. Mild stalking(?) I do not know if I should be continuing this ^^ (There will be eventual smut if I keep writing this, also might end up adding some TW because we all know what happens when you tell stories about wounded soldiers) Divider credits go to @vibeswithrenai , lovely work, I recommend checking them out ^^

Johnny is at his roots, a family man. Scottish mead flows through his veins, so does the sweet pie his grandma used to bake.

Before retiring, Soap liked to spend some of his 'vacations' with the whole MacTavish family. Lunch here, brunch there, and kids that flap their pa's kilt just before dinner. He would play chase with the wee lads, loved by his nephews and known as 'Big Uncle'. Often carrying two rascals at a time, or letting losing against them on a hand to hand battle, he was a truly warm and homecoming man.

"John, when ya givin' me sum' wee bairns?" His nan would often ask.

To what his answer would be, between gritted teeth "No bon, no bun, nan. Army giv' no time f'tha"

And so then, he was shot.

Retirement didn't treat him that badly, just gave him a rather permanent headache and a scar on his temple.

Doctors told him to stay put, to enjoy his free time on the hospital' open gardens, the oxygen would do him good they said. But Soap was not a man that would be sitting there, staying still after years of battlefield, movement and stress.

Yet, after trying to get away a couple of times and finally sat down by Price, he took the orders and stayed put like a good kid.

He owed Simon one. The man had managed to push him a fraction away from the bullet trajectory, earning himself a sprained ankle. He would often visit Johnny when free, although for a brief time, dropping telltales of what the squad had been up to. Gaz was the one to stick around most, nagging him about finally being out of the hellhole that being a SAS operator was. They would watch their football together, until nurses told him that they needed to do a check-up.

On a rare sunny day, the whole squad visited him. Price had brought a letter from Alejandro, wishing him the best recovery, and to visit whenever he felt like. The wind almost blew the paper away, sitting in a bench under a tree.

"Bet ya miss us son" John muttered, a tired smile on his face. Soap groaned, rolling his eyes, "honestly, I think I prefer t'share some sweat with yall, rather than this hell of a cell" Even Simon laughed at that.

" 's no sunshine 'round. Bloody white walls fucking strain my eyes every single damn day" He would keep complaining. "I don't miss ya nagging tho" Ghost quipped teasingly.

And so they laughed, walking around looking like a group of old childhood friends that threw shit at each other, being Gaz the one with the most pointy comments "I can't fathom sleep without ya snoring Soap"

Something bumped against Price, earning their stop and a tiny, quiet "sorry" from a tiny, young voice. It was a young lad, no more than six summers at his back. He looked rather scared; faced by an old man, a wounded soldier, a guy with only his eyes visible and a piercing gaze under a cap.

Price squatted "No need to be, lad. Where's ya mum?" The kid shook his head and pointed to a woman, not far away from their position, that was surrounded by kids. She seemed stressed, looking around with wide eyes until she spotted the young boy.

"Oh Matt! Don't go running away like that you little rascal!" She rushed to the kid, and made eye contact with the Captain. "I'm so sorry sir, can't really keep all the kids still sometimes"

"Visit trip?" Price tilted his head slightly, to what she nodded. "We like to show the young ones to respect the injured" Her smile was almost as warm as the sun that day. "They gotta learn more than numbers and letters in school after all"

She took the kid away after apologizing once again, urging the little one to go back with the whole group, that she graciously guided around the hospital garden.

A second pair of blues followed her around as she went by, earning a chuckle from Kyle "Looks like he has a reason to stay here now"

"Hells Bells" The only thing he could say.

For what he could see from his room's window, it was a whole week of field trips for different classes.

To his eyes, she paraded around with the kids, with a sweet smile and warm eyes, showing the little humans things around, be it the entrances, the pond, or making small talk with some old lady that was condemned to stay her last days in that white prison. Like he felt, incarcerated for his health, until the doctors decided his wound and other past poorly healed injuries would not hinder him from having a "normal" life from now on.

For you, you were trying to show the kids some hospitality, to be respectful and appreciate the healthcare and what it could do for the people. For them to listen to the old tales of those veterans in life, or to enjoy the breeze and the grass after walking around for a long time.

Johnny was mesmerized. Completely lost in those warm expressions you always had dancing on your face, or in how you guided the children with caressing palms. Maybe it was the ring of your voice, that now rose above the constant tingle of his newly acquired wound, or the manners that you carried around. He felt strangely isolated in the room, a constant need to go outside and enjoy the grass, of course he wasn't trying to get a chance to talk with you.

Right?

So there he was, again in a bench. And that day he decided to hang his dog tags around his neck. "What a show-off" Simon groaned before saying goodbye couple of hours ago. "Don't come sulking if you scare her away you mutt", and a pat on the back.

It was the same boy as the other day, the one that approached him mesmerized by the shining plates on his neck. Matt sat on the floor, inquiring about what did Johnny do for a living. 'What is that? What do you do? Oh that's so cool!' he would chirp here and there.

Johnny couldn't really say no to the wee thing in front of him, puffing his chest and sharing some of his less-bloodied trips. The puff was taken down by a sudden nervousness when he saw you approaching again.

"Matt how many times do I have to tell you not to go astray from the group" She came already scolding the boy. "Oh, you are from the other day, right sir?"

Ah, she remembered him.

"Just doin' me time in here for a bit" Johnny answered with a boyish smile. "Can't blame the wean, he was all giddy 'n' interested"

"And what might that interest be?" You squatted a bit, poking Matt's cheek. "Miss. L/n this is Soap!" Oh, he got your last name now, maybe Laswell was willing to do some digging as a reward for his honorary actions right? Did he just call you Miss? That in his mind was a Jackpot. "And what does...Mr. Soap do?" She looked at him from bellow, her eyes flickering to his dog tags for a second. "I just tell old tales of sweaty men trying to save the world"

You weren't able to peel Matt from his spot, resigned, decided to indulge in some old stories, bringing the whole group so they could all listen to a veteran's yapping.

"So my mate, you see, big scary man with a mask" He would say, "took'em all down real fast i'm telling ya"

His eyes would often flick from kid to kid, landing on your face. To his delight, you were also caught in his stories, attentive eyes and full focused on how his mouth moved.

"And I was all alone! Havin' to scramble what I could! Bad men trynna catch me but I'm telling yall, nobody cannae stop the Soap" The boasting was impressive. How proud Johnny was of his doings, how he managed to tell his story in Las Almas without mentioning the cartel, or the corruption. "Even took a bloody bullet!" He pointed to his fresh scar, still healing. And that's when he saw your eyes turn somber, rather cold. "Alright kids, Mr. Soap here has lot's of stories, but surely that means he's very tired right? Let's go visit more places around!" After insisting a bit, you peeled the children away from his circle and quickly whispered to him with a disappointed gaze "I do have no doubt on what you did to protect people, but please, showing wounds and violence to children is not appropriate"

When you turned away, he sulked. He had fucked up. Ghost was right, he showed off too much and fucked up big time. He wanted to chase after you, to grab your wrist and apologize. To promise not to use those marks again if it meant seeing your bonnie face.

Yet knowing it would only make it worse, he silently went away, locking himself in the white room and not letting the nurses come in.

"Fucked up" He told Price. "Bonnie thing didn't like when I told the bairns about the bullet"

He earned a sigh, and a folder on his lap. "Didn't Simon tell you to slow down? I'm glad you still got some energy in you, son." Soap cursed under his breath, taking the folder and giving it a quick read. "You know me Sir"

Your whole legal name was there. Education, birthplace, family. Everything. Just a normal civilian, with a normal job. A teacher, the daughter of a warm family.

The folder didn't explain your charming eyes, or the small smiles you would make when a child showed you something. The information didn't do you any beauty, and he was pissed.

He had to hear it from you. Your own name, then his. Then again his name between some whispers or whimpers even. Not long after, Price took him for a walk, trying to pull him away from the constant frown that adorned his forehead.

It was Friday, he could tell you were a bit more energetic than the past day. Guessed it was the last visit you had to bring to the hospital, the last time he would probably see you if he was the one to respect boundaries. But what boundaries if he already had your address and identification number.

"You thinkin' about her still?" Price inquired, sipping on some cheap tea from the cafeteria. "Can't shake it cap. I just cannae. I gotta go tell her I'm sorry or sumthin'" He crossed his arms on his chest, right leg nervously bouncing under the table. "You seen how she look' with the bairns?" That earned a chuckle from the older man.

And bless the heavens he thought, when you entered the room with the group of children, dividing them in groups around multiple tables and asking the barista to make around thirteen milkshakes. You stayed on the counter, counting each quid to later report it to the school.

Price stood up, gave Johnny a pat on the shoulder. "Second try won't hurt you more than the first" He walked away, leaving Soap to shed his personal coat, turning into the homeboy Johnny once more.

"Hey"

You sighed, looking at him. "Sorry 'bout the other day. Got carried away" he mumbled "thought wee things would like something more...thrilling"

"Still not the best thing to say"

"I ken"

"They kept repeating your stories after that." His eyes flickered "Even started calling the other patients by 'sir' or 'ma'am'" Finally you met his eyes, hiding a shudder under your skin feeling like he was seeing right past your soul with those blue gems. This of course didn't pass by him.

"Ya enjoyed 'em?"

"Perhaps"

He leaned in a bit, not yet getting into your space, but enough to give you a tiny whiff of his soft scent. Was it citrusy? Warmth was on it, a little bit fruity but not overwhelming. You could swear there was a tinge of all-in-one shampoo too.

"Okay, yes. I liked your stories." Finally surrendering to his observing gaze, you relaxed on the counter a bit, the barista slowly pulling out the milkshakes. "Still, too bloody for some group of children"

"Hm. You know, even me ol' boss scolded me" The most heavenly chuckle swarmed his ears. "The man with the hat?" Johnny flashed a smirk, eyebrows gathering in the middle giving you an apologizing look and offering you his hand "Johnny's the name"

Johnny helped you bring the milkshakes to the tables, and again started telling his stories. This time with your consenting look, avoiding violence or blood on them.

There was a tiny difference now. His eyes weren't the only ones fluttering between the children and you. Lost in him, in his pearls, sometimes having to scramble your brains to understand his accent and phrasing. Unable to keep eye contact for long, covering your flush by turning your attention to the kids.

You couldn't really lie, he was charming. A warm smile and soft, piercing eyes. A voice that was like silk, but sometimes rugged, unable to ignore how his hands, rather calloused, accompanied the movements of his voice. The dog tags that he still wore, now tucked under his shirt, chain making waves over his collarbone, adorned by a thick and strong neck.

He seemed less proud, and more invested into the stories now. It wasn't about boasting anymore, but a constant fight to keep the kids hooked, and subsequently you too. He bathed proudly on how your cheeks would rose up a bit, or how you fidgeted with the soft fabric sometimes tracing the figures of the funny and childish patterns you wore. He wanted to up the tone, to impress you more like a bird trying to court his counterpart.

But he was a trained man that rarely made mistakes, a quick learner on top of that, not hitting the same rock twice.

Time passed, milkshakes were empty and some kids couldn't keep their eyes fully open. With a rather tired voice, a little raspy from the constant storytelling he chuckled at the wobbly tiny heads in front of him.

"Tired them all" You softly smiled, exhaustion also apparent on your face.

"Do I pass the test, Miss. L/n? Stories good enough?" He leaned slightly against you, a friendly shoulder bump earning another holy chuckle from your lips. "I give you an 8, missed some staging".

"Oh lass, I cannae be doin' backflips and shi- stuff" He corrected himself and tapped to his temple, the scar now healing better "Quite rude to be askin' tha' from a poor wounded soldier"

With a smile, you dismissed him and woke up some of the kids, telling them it was already time to go back home. Some of them whined, wanting to listen to more stories, trying to make you promise for it, something that Johnny eagerly supported, teasing you a bit. Others were completely fried, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Before leaving the cafeteria, you turned around and thanked him. "Johnny, right? Mine is Y/n" Oh but that he already knew, although it didn't bother him hearing it from your mouth.

What he didn't know was that you would visit him next Monday, taking with you some homemade buns you had made, showing gratitude for his help the past week.

Maybe he didn't fuck up that much, and maybe he could win you over by winning over the kids.

And he was good with children.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap

[joycew-blog]

Special RnM Ask:

If you were given the opportunity to write one episode dedicated to Rick in a romantic relationship, who would you ultimately pair him with? Why? What would happen, or what sort of plotline would you go with?

Oh jeez, that's a very good question. If it were a sexual relationship it would be one thing, but a romantic one? You've definitely given me food for thought. I think it really depends on where Rick is at in the story. If I were to write it right now (so directly after season 7) I think he's still very busy getting his shit together. He's not stable enough to get in a proper romantic relationship that isn't toxic or won't fall apart. That doesn't mean he can't try to tho! I just don't think it would be something that would work for long term. But if I were to pick a scenario it could either be a random new alien character that he quickly got attached to (like Daphne in season 5) or an existing character that he has a past with. I rather pick existing characters since that's easier for me to imagine and write for. My first thought was Mr Nimbus, but then I also saw a mention somewhere of Curtis which would be a good choice as well. But I prefer to pick Nimbus cause he really deserves more screentime and he has some sort of past with Rick that could be shown in the episode. So if I were to write the episode itself it would start with some sort of peace treaty. Rick bringing back the conch and sort of apologizing in his own Rick-ish way for being a dick. Maybe he even got pushed to do this by his family or therapist. They'll bicker a lot and it looks like it'll end in a fight again, but at the same time Rick brought back the conch which is unusual for him, so they decide to bury the hatchet for now.

Rick didn't know what to do next so, well... why not visit Nimbus' kingdom? It's been a long while and it might be a good start to keep the peace going. Of course knowing both Rick and Nimbus, things get horny real fast and they are having a one-night stand. They both had a great time and that's how the snowball started rolling. Rick visits Nimbus more often and it puts him in a good mood, to the point that even his family starts to get suspicious. Summer starts calling him out for being in 'loooveeeee' and Morty tries to stop her from doing that cause he's happy that Rick's happy. But the seed is planted and now things get too intimate for Rick. And Rick being Rick he of course starts to push Nimbus away. In return Nimbus gets angry and confronts him about it and they start fighting again. During the fight they start screaming what goes through their minds by insulting each other, digging in their personalities etc. Until Rick yells "I can't believe my grandkids think I fucking fell in love with you!" Anddd that made Nimbus stop fighting real fast and he looks at Rick like he's grown two heads. They talk it out and find out that their feelings are mutual; They are not in love, but definitely love to keep hanging out with each other more. They work best as friends with very good benefits.

Maybe it gets a bit fanficy at the end there tho, but I do genuinely believe that their relationship works best as friends in the end.

But! I have a second answer! Like I said before, if Rick were to go in a relationship right now it would not end well. But if I were to look at endgame? Then Birdrick would definitely be on the table! However, I don't think this a relationship that would get build and written in one episode. Rick and BP have a strained relationship right now, they are barely on speaking terms, so I think we should have more episodes of them together in general before they go in a romantic direction. Like Rick meeting Birddaughter, perhaps by rescuing her from the Galactic Federation cause she got caught again. Or maybe she's heard a lot of stories about Rick from the Federation that made her curious. Maybe have BP and Rick reminisce about the past! I'm definitely still curious what music the Flesh Curtains were making. And after allll that buildup we can have an episode where they get together. It could perhaps be more dramatic, like them going on an adventure and things go very wrong! One of them ends up on the verge of dying, which in turn makes the other realize they don't want to live without the other anymore. And things kinda keep going from there.

So I think there's a lot of different possibilities about having a romantic episode with Rick. But it would definitely be a hectic one, since Rick is a dumb-dumb when it comes to feelings and it's definitely an R&M thing to do. And also it would be queer as fuck, no more being sneaky on wither Ricks falls for guys or not! Unless that's already been established in an earlier episode.

(ohmygod this got so long, I wasn't expecting to write a fanfic today)

#rick and morty #nimrick #rickbus #birdrick #text post #ask

[mermaidgirl30]

Wip Wednesday!

Thank you for the tags @notjustjavierpena @burntheedges @sawymredfox 🩷 I am kind of going back and forth between WIPs, so here are some snippets!

1. QZ! Joel - Slip Into Me Part 2

He seems to command people around him, acts as if he is the one ordering the soldiers around. You see they listen to him as he bites a snarl their way, see the way they almost cower and can’t seem to keep eye contact when he’s giving them valuable information. You should be afraid of him, you think, but you’re not. You’re only intrigued more and more every single time you see him snap demands and push people to the edge.

He’s strong, broad, dominant. He likes to be in control, loves to push the soldiers to their breaking point like he did with Seth. He knows how to get his way, knows exactly how to play games with FEDRA. He could snap the neck of any man that even tried to get their hands on him or order him around. His menacing gaze was all it took for them to back off enough, drop whatever argument they were trying to start. You knew this because you were watching him on the streets when you worked, stealing glances every second you could when you saw the tall, broad man who saved you so many nights ago. Now you were hooked.

2. Witch trial! Joel AU

He can’t see it, can’t hear it, can’t stand the thought of it. But what can a broken man do in a ruined town filled with cult following people that call themselves saints. He hates them, all of them. But he hates himself the most for not being able to save the people he cared most about.

He has to save you, even if it gets himself killed. For he’d rather stand on the thresholds of death with the fiery flames than see your gorgeous face melt into the depths of red embers. He’d walk through the black mist of hell, cross the fiery lakes of no return just to touch the softness of your skin.

3. Bfd! Joel

He assesses your face, scanning your flustered features while he ticks his jaw, analyzing if you’re really drunk or not. Once he’s satisfied with your answer he gives a gruff sound from the back of his throat. “Okay then. You’re not drunk, but you’re jus’ choosin’ not to tell me where Sarah is, and you’re givin’ me a headache with the way you’re actin’ like a little brat,” he snarls with gritted teeth. “What’s it gonna take to get you to answer me, brat?”

The nickname brat makes a wave of slick form in your lace and your insides quiver with need. You know exactly what you have to do now. You take your nails and run them slowly through his greying scruff, watching him clench his jaw and growl through his teeth. He grabs your wrist and peels it off his face, pinning it high above your head while he takes a step forward and leans all his weight into you.

“Don’t think for one fuckin’ moment you have control, sweetheart. I’m in control here. Now, are you gonna tell me where my daughter is or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?” His eyes blow wide, black pupils taking over your vision as his hardening cock digs into the middle of your thigh. Oh fuck, he’s big.

No pressure tags and anyone else that sees this 🩷 @mountainsandmayhem @milla-frenchy @aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @yxtkiwiyxt

@alltheirdamn @joelsgreys @ozarkthedog @joelmillerisapunk @toxicanonymity

@endlessthxxghts @ace-turned-confused @janaispunk

#wip wednesday #Joel Miller wip