#the lil fucker is taking over my wall and my mind
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I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I think I have a rat infestation 🐀🎩☕
Art by Tim Levins (and I’m not sure who to credit for the animation cel)
#batman#the mad hatter#jervis tetch#mad hatter#batman the animated series#the new batman adventures#batman tas#ratter#Harley Quinn#harleen quinzel#animation cels#animation cel#roddy mcdowall#the lil fucker is taking over my wall and my mind#well i guess that what a mind controller does to you :P#jonathan crane#scarecrow#poison ivy#mr freeze#clayface#pamela isley#Victor Fries#matt hagen#my post.
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Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol
i luv ur brain anon
"you got....a kitten?"
- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-)
- also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...)
- also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all
──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！
general headcannons
alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears.
i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.
NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU
this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn
hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)
how u got him
imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and
now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!
bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.
'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'
man can't even argue with you
hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent
u can tho.
and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)
spider-squad finding out ab him
the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ?????
pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie
'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope
i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn
hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud
you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine
everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ )
“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”
luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk
speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.
anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute
says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)
you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’
promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”
cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s
more gen headcannons
remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise
hobie loves to play fight with the cat
spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win
i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️
⊗
#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#spiderverse x reader#spiderpunk#hobie brown#across the spiderverse#atsv x reader#across the spiderverse x reader#spiderpunk x reader#hobart brown x reader#hobie۫ ִ✮#this was so cute hehe#thank you anon#!!!!!
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Yesssss, the bachira fuckers were summoned!! I'm personally thirsting over cockwarming him! <3
content: gn!reader. cockwarming, raw sex, bachira's impatient and whiney<3 to you & the other anons that asked for this, apologies for the late answer!
— . ｡˚ ♡ bachira has always been an impatient lil thing.
bachira mumbles discontentedly into your ear as he hugs your body to his, rolling his hips up into you a little, teasing both you and himself with the nudge of his cockhead deeper inside you. "baby."
you hush him, pushing his curious hands down and locking them back around your waist as they try to crawl up under your shirt.
your eyes are still on the TV infront of you, the movie playing out on the screen one that bachira has already watched and has no interest in seeing again — and he scowls at the actors on scene, pissed off that a tacky film like this one has stolen your attention from him.
"baby," he leans in and says it with his lips right against the shell of your ear this time, and you sigh, flicking the remote towards the TV and pausing the movie before you finally pay him a piece of your mind.
"what is it, meguru?"
"can't take it anymore." he whines, allowing himself another thrust into your warm, wet walls as he says it. your breath hitches when his cock drags past a sweeter spot, and his eyes glimmer. "wanna fuck?"
"you're the one that brought this up, meguru." you groan, grabbing his face by the chin to press a kiss to the slant of his nose. "cockwarming you during the movie was your idea."
"well, it was a bad idea." bachira huffs, rolling his eyes, snuggling his face into your neck and tempting you to brush away the soft locks of his fringe and kiss his forehead softly. "don't wanna do it anymore. the movie's boring, and you feel so fuckin' good."
the remote is still in your hand, and he peers at it, at your finger that's hovering over the play button. "be a good boy for me, baby." you run a hand through his hair, causing a shiver of pleasure to run through him — his cock twitches inside you, and you swallow heavily as he giggles knowingly, suggestively.
"we'll stay like this," you say, voice firm. "till the movie's over."
you feel a hot, thick bead of precum swell from the tip of his cock and leak into you as he fucks up into you again. "please?" he sings. "we can watch the movie after."
"n-no," you repeat, blushing when you stutter, bringing your thighs closer together. "you asked for this, baby. there's only twenty two minutes left anyway."
"i've waited two thirds of this dumb movie." he whines, indignant — and god, his cock does feel so good, snugly fitted into your heat, and you know it'll feel so much better if he moves, if he lays you back on the sofa and throws your legs over his shoulders and fucks you senseless — but still, you relent.
"be good for me right now," you tell him, kissing him on the lips shortly. "and i'll let you fuck me any way you want, once i'm done watching this."
he grins. "you'll let me cum into you as many times as i want, mhm? milk my cock for me?"
"yes." you say, and his smile widens. "you'll take it when i make you cum over and over again? lay there nice and sweet for me and let me fuck you dumb? promise?"
your face feels hotter, at how fucking blunt he is, but you nod anyway, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing on the TV again — like hell if you can properly watch the rest of the film now, though. "yeah, i—i promise."
"heh," he giggles, pulling you closer again, pressing down on your lower stomach as he makes himself comfortable. the weight of his hand pulls another moan from you, but he clicks his tongue. "go on, watch the movie then. gotta roll those credits quick, so we can get to it."
"mhm," you blink, trying to clear your head as you lift the remote back towards the TV, and press play. as the sound comes back on, he rolls his hips up again, cockhead hitting your sweetest spot in one go, and you'll be damned if he hadn't done that on purpose. "f-fuck!"
"watch the movie, baby." bachira repeats, wicked smile so apparent in his voice, and shit, you sit there and stare at the screen — waiting for those fucking twenty two minutes to go by.
#☆༉ rekha™#☆༉ ferveloqui.#bachira smut#bachira x reader#bachira meguru smut#bachira meguru x reader#blue lock smut#blue lock x reader#bllk smut#bllk x reader
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A lil Dreamling bodyswap thing I’m directly copy-pasting from my phone notes, hopefully I get back to it someday
Apparently I was taking inspo from a Witcher post I’ve lost XD I’m gonna go look for it
@avelera if you’re interested 💜
~~~
“Sounds like you’re living the dream.” Their lips curl into a conspiratorial smile over their glass. “Still. All bounds of ‘reasonableness’ aside. If you could have anything you wanted. What would it be?”
“Careful. Dressed like sin, shelling out for the good whiskey…a man might think you’re trying to trap him with a question like that.”
“Who, little old me?” They batted their eyes. Hob wondered if perhaps they knew Morse code for ‘I am absolutely trapping you’. “I’m just having a bit of fun. Come on, what could it hurt?”
Hob frowned at them. “Are you one of the Fair Folk?” He blurted.
They snorted, and their coy smile twisted downward into something just short of a sneer. “The faeries dipped out half a millennium ago.” Hob felt a little dizzy, his brain buffering through the realization that it was within his lifetime. As the matter-of-fact tone penetrated past the haze, he found himself rewarding the frankness with honesty.
“I’d like to know what’s going on in my best friend’s head once in a while.” STHe hesitated, but…in for a penny. “[Dissonance of glad to be back but definitely traumatized?]”ST
“A ‘walk a mile in their shoes’ sort of thing?”
Hob snorted. “Not sure I have enough style in me for his shoes.”
“You never know.” They shrugged sinuously. They set down their glass and stretched, full-bodied. It was the dangerously toothy yawn that really made it cat-like. “I really must be off.” They stood, pausing beside his seat. “Good to meet you, darling.” They pressed a kiss to his temple. A sudden shiver ripped down his spine.
“Good to meet you, too,” he said absently
*
For five centuries, Hob always remembered when he dreamed, even if their details slipped away like water come morning. In his sixth century, it was more questionable. He suspected he still dreamed, but he never woke up with anything on his mind, unless it was old memories returned to haunt him. He was just getting used to having the full experience back, which is what made the blankness he was waking up from so strange. He was so preoccupied with it, staring into the middle distance, that it took him at least three minutes to register the voice that had groaned when he’d sat up; the fine bedding beneath the hands propping him up; the wall he was staring in the direction of.
[And then he wanders around and eventually runs into Matthre and Lucienne. Matthre recognizes him as not-Dream on a close examination]
“That’s not ideal.” He’d hoped speaking would calm him down a little, but - he knew that voice. That fucker. They’d never actually denied being Fae, had they? Hoping he was wrong, he looked around for a mirror. He felt himself call it, but it appeared like in a dream - like he’d simply overlooked it before. The face staring back at him was familiar in all the wrong ways, save the eyes. Instead of the icy blue he’d expected, there were voids with twin stars. As bizarre as it seemed, it - kind of fit, actually. Hob raised a hand to his face reflexively, resting under his eye. It was strange to see Dream’s figure doing it.
“Right. Okay. Right.” Wind rattled at the doors to the balcony - balcony? Of course Dream had a balcony. “Maybe if I figure out where we are?” He mumbled to himself, making for the door. For all that Dream seemed more amenable to sharing personal information now (a name, even!), they were still used to Hob doing all the talking, and they hadn’t met much yet despite agreeing to keep a more friendly schedule. He hoped he was in or near London, but there was a pit in his stomach that doubted it. It grew as he stepped into the hall and realized just how massive Dream’s home must be.
He picked a direction and set off. Whatever storm lay outside seemed to be growing, which didn’t help his sense of dread in the slightest. As he kept walking, it seemed like a lecture hall’s worth of chatter was growing louder without growing any closer. Eventually, he came to hear snippets of it: “I have to remember to change that lightbulb”; “she reminds me of my niece”; “Did someone break in? …I really need to fold those clothes”; “Did I leave the stove on?” It left him distracted enough that he didn’t take in many details. The chatter and the storm and the knowledge that this was absolutely his fault swirled around him until he broke free to an open area. After looking around, he realized it was a throne room. Because of course it was. Suddenly, a number of things about Dream’s attitude and conduct made sense, but now he had absolutely no idea where he was.
“Hey, have we got another mission or something? That’s a hell of a gale.” He turned around, his eyes searching upward for the voice without him deciding to do so, landing on a raven flapping towards him from the presumably-front door. Before Hob decided what to say, the raven suddenly winged back, staring hard at him. He settled on the floor halfway down the room. “You aren’t the boss,” he said warily.
“No,” he confirmed. “I know him,” he added, hoping to head off the worst of any panic or interrogation. “But, um…yeah. I’m not Dream.”
“Oh, don’t do that again.”
“Do what?”
“Hearing him say ‘um’ is freaky.”
He cast his mind back over old meetings, recalling how deliberately Dream spoke on the rare occasions that he did, even in 1689, when he’d done most of the talking. “Yeah, no, that’s fair.” He paused, contemplating what to say next. “This is my fault. I think I accidentally made a deal. Anyone I can talk to about that? Besides, y’know, Dream?”
“…yeah, yeah there might be someone.” He took to the air again, and Hob followed in his wake. The chatter and the storm pressed at the edges of his brain, but having someone to focus on helped. He paused as they crossed the threshold to a library. He was sure he’d been in here before, once or twice, and yet…he didn’t remember a damn thing about it.
*****
• Lucienne &/or Matthew call Death
• Death calls a family meeting
• “Alright. I’m hoping one of us did this, because if it was someone else, this becomes much more serious immediately. I have two prime suspects. Given that Delirium isn’t pointing and laughing, Desire needs to start talking”
“What, i didn’t do anything to Dream” and/or similar until “wait YOURE hob gadling?”/“someone tell me what Hob gadling looks like”/“where does Hob gadling live” and Desire realizes they fucked up more than intended and they are simultaneously delighted and terrified
#the sandman#dreamling#fanfic#writing#desire of the endless#hob gadling#Matthew the Raven#body swap#hints of a#power swap
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Imagine; part two of— Gotham villains with a vampire s/o! Part one here!
2/4, this serious includes; Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska, The Penguin and The riddler.
Jeremiah Valeska 💜
-This man was skeptical.
-After all, vampires don’t exist! There is science to prove his logic!! What are you not understanding??
-He’s so close minded and paranoid smh. But in his eyes, it keeps him sAfE. Lil bitch tbh
-Still though, He found you absolutely breathtaking. Whatever you were, you have him wrapped around your finger. Your smooth skin, your ambitious eyes, your aura, just every little thing about you was different from the rest.
-You stood out.
-There you were.. you looked so peaceful sitting in front of the fireplace. Reading a book in silence with the most gentle smile on your face, you were at peace with your life.
-Taking a good vacation at Wayne manor, visiting your nephew Bruce.
-An old friend of the family you were of course. You’ve known Bruce his entire life and saved his father from a Bomb threat at Wayne manors opening party 50 years ago.
-Alfred had let you in. He was happy that you decided to accept his invitation to the manor because, in his eyes, you were exactly what Bruce needed right now. A loving family member to comfort him in his own time of need.
-Alfred knew what you were of course, how could he not? He started working for Bruce’s father around the same time you had first met the man.
-It’s kinda hard not to notice when you see the person you’ve known your entire career not age a single day.
-(Alfred had the biggest crush on you back then but shh! That’s another story for another time.)
-They we’re both fast asleep when Jeremiah had broke into the manor. Simply wanting to watch Bruce sleep, nothing more..
-But then he found you instead.. or rather, you found him..
-He was creeping around the manor trying to find Bruce’s room when he entered the living room with too much noise and was all of a sudden pinned to the nearest wall with beautiful darkened e/c eyes threatening his.
-He gasped as you dug your nails into his throat, daring him to move. You spoke slow, threatening him, but yet your voice was so angelic— Jeremiah couldn’t find himself to be scared of you??
-“Wanna tell me why Gotham’s #1 Villain broke into Wayne manor?” You asked, hovering your teeth above his throat, he gulped.
-Instead of responding, Jeremiah laughed like crazy, shaking his head. Who were you?? Why are you here and most importantly, why are you so fucking intoxicating??
-You sighed, letting him go. He flopped to the floor still laughing like crazy but replaced that with a gurgled cough when you rib kicked him.
-He rolled over smiling, “OooOooo darling~”
-“Shut the hell up!” You seethed, “And keep it down! Bruce is trying to sleep you fucking moron!”
-“I’m not worried about Bruce right now, dearest. I’ve found something new to play with.”
-“Oh really? Hm?,” you faked curiosity, tapping your chin with your forefinger still glaring down at the man. “And who’s that?”
-“Well.. you of cour-sh-hg“
-Another blow to the ribs. This fucker really had it coming anyways. Killing all those people on live television? Of course you knew who he was??
-Jeremiah Valeska… tweedle-fucking-dum to Jerome Valeska, his twin who also raised hell on Gotham.
—“My my..” he smiled up at you with a wide smile, whipping the blood from his mouth with his shirt cuff, “You really are a sight for sore ribs, Darling.”
-You glared, “Aren’t you a charmer?” He smiled.
-General Head-cannons-
-When you both do get to know each, Jeremiah is very sweet.
-It took some convincing.. like- a lot of convincing- for him to accept the fact that your a literal vampire.
-it goes against all his beliefs and research! He’s dumbstruck in all honestly.
-Tho in his eyes, your perfect.. to both his plans and to his romantic life.
-Super speed, strength, healing, eyesight etc-
-You’re exactly who he needs to become his new proxy! Ecoo was kicked to the Curb the night you both met! (Gun shot to the fore head but yanno)
-Besides that, he’s shy. He’ll never admit it but let’s be honest to ourselves people—
-He’s never been in a relationship.
-You figured this out when he told you about his life, pre-spray. How he went into hiding under a fake name and took all kinds of precautions to hide from his older brother Jerome.
-The guy just sounded like a virgin.
-Then he let it slip one night accidentally. You both were tipsy (more so, him then you cause— well you know) but it slipped out that he has never had his first kiss?
-You side eyed him, trying to figure out if this was true or not but from the massive blush that spread across his white cheeks, you knew.
-The next morning was even funnier. It was like a comedy show with a hungover Jeremiah and definitely not a light weight s/o.
-(You’ve been drinking for literal centuries)
-“Hey handsome, have fun last night?” You smiled, as he wobbled into the makeshift kitchen he had in the bunker.
-He winced, holding his head but still wobbling towards you. “Hush dear,” he grumbled, coming to hug you from behind.
-“I have a massive headache.” He mumbled into your neck, arms slipping around your waist to hold you tight.
“I bet.” You smiled, “But heyyy, at least I waited, right?”
-“For?” He mumbled.
-“—us to have our first kiss, we gotta pop that cherry sometime.”
-The blush that spread across this man’s face :,)
-“I uh- don’t know what your talking about-“
-“oh hush, I waiting all night just so you’d remember it!”
—-
-He’d want you to turn him.
-Jeremiah has abandonment issues, like bad. After his mother. (Only because he was such a big mamas boy growing up.)
-He’d wanna be stuck with you forever, to thrive together and rule Gotham for years.
-He’d plan out a huge wedding and after party. Inviting every evil face around.
-He’d want Bruce to come even, and the poor boy would for you.
-Even if Bruce doesn’t approve of your husband, he’d still love you but dread the awful fact that he’s now technically related to Jeremiah.
-Once Jeremiah realizes this, well then.. he’s going to want to be you even more.
:)
——-
I hope this was ok! People where asking for a Jeremiah version and I finally got around to it!! <333
@rabbiteggz
@rottenecstasy
#gotham#jeremiah valeska#jerome valeska#jerome valeska x reader#fuck#funny story#gotham oswald#jeremiah valeska x reader#yandere gotham x reader#yandere jerome valeska#jeremiah valeska imagine#yandere#funny content#vampress#vampire#vampire x human#gotham incorrect quotes#jeremiah x reader
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Split Idol
A lil short story to kinda go into how bendy and the ink demons shared mind works in batai
And a lil song that plays in my head when I think about for y’all to play as background noise
Anyway enjoy!
“Bendys eyes opened as he found himself lying on the ground. As he slowly got up, he realized where he was.
Here again
Great
He was in a black void of a space, illuminated by bright red, transparent, ghostly vein like structures floating all over. The ground below him was a black ocean tinted red by the lights.
While bendy was able to walk on this dark water like it was the shallowest of puddles, he knew from experience that it was far far deeper.
Bendy reached his hand to touch an intersection of the red veins, only for it to dissipate and reform like a cloud.
He took a closer look at the intersection. Within its bright glow, he could see an old memory of his replaying like a movie.
No surprise. He had theorized a long time ago that these structures, that looked similar to human neurons to him, were actually a web of his own memories.
Weird to think something as complex as memory could be so simplified.
He looked down at the water below him.
May as well
He jumped, falling into the black ocean. He didn’t bother taking a breath first, knowing he didn’t need it.
He floated in the darkness for a moment, before looking down and seeing where he wanted to go. He swam down to the area.
As he reached his destination, he could better see that the place he went to seemed to resemble a hallway.
But not a normal one.
The walls, floors and objects looked like sketches brought to life, but yellowed with age and decay.
He planted his feet on the floor. Despite the hallway itself seeming to be above water and dry, he still felt as if he was underwater, his fur and clothes still swaying with the movement of an ocean and his body struggling to stay grounded as the water wanted him to float.
It was… strange. But enjoyable. He couldn’t go underwater in the real world, as his ink body wasn’t very compatible with water and fell apart when he tried to go in it.
He wasn’t sure how he knew the feeling of being underwater and solid though. It felt familiar in a way he couldn’t explain.
He let himself float up a bit to swim around the hallway. Around him were doors.
He swam to one to attempt to open it, but stopped as he saw thick black inky webs and strands all over the door, sticking it shut.
He tried to think of a way to open it, but his thoughts were interrupted as he heard muffled speaking followed by a low growl.
He wasn’t able to hear what was said as the words sounded like they were drowning underwater.
He turned to see where the noise came from, seeing a monstrous, shadow like demonic figure further in the hallway. It was on all fours, growling as it was clearly preparing to attack.
Fuck
Him again
Bendy quickly started swimming up before the creature could get a chance to pounce. He could vaguely hear the creature running towards him, being more grounded than bendy was.
Bendy continued to swim up to where his memories were kept. He looked down for a moment,
only to see the creature jump up to grab him.
Bendy jumped up from his bed as he woke up. He found himself breathing erratically as he put a hand to his chest to feel his nonexistent heartbeat.
He looked around at his room to be sure he wasn’t still there. He then closed his eyes and took a deep breath as one simple thought crossed his mind.
Fucker got real close this time”
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pretty face on a pretty neck | b.b.
summary: they aren’t fucking dating. not fucking friends, either. no, bucky just fucks romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works. and sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.
WARNINGS: a tiny bit of smut (18+), fingering, choking, swearing, drinking, brief mentions of cheating, bucky’s just really fucking jealous, mentions of a shitty relationship and self-doubt from it, the dark knight spoilers, fluffy end!!
pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader, brief steve rogers x fem!reader lmaoo
word count: 5.5k
a/n: this is a cute lil piece written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan! my prompt was “you called me, remember?” inspired by kiwi by harry styles.
For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.
Then again, he’s not complaining.
The view is fucking stellar.
You weave through the crowd, glistening like some glazed dessert that he can’t wait to get his mouth on. Your lips are shining with a swipe of that sweet lipgloss he loves to suck off and you’re wearing that black dress.
The black dress. Shorter than short, showing every inch of skin yet not enough.
You toss your head back, exposing that neck that he loves to bite to Steve who grins, glad his joke landed. Stifling a scowl, Bucky grabs his scotch and throws it back, desperate not to grab you and throw you into a stall just to mark you up as his.
You had made him promise, after all. No socialization outside their little nightcap sessions that often lead to… well, Bucky’s game for anything really.
A cigarette is pinched between your lips and Steve helps you light it with a flick of his lighter, the burning embers glowing in the dark, seedy bar. Leaning on the bar counter, you talk to Sam wiping down his station and he nods, eyes dragging over your face and Bucky cannot tear his gaze away as Sam pours you three shots of vodka. You blow out a lungful of smoke, cigarette pinched between two fingers before glancing at Steve and making some sort of bet, based on the way your lips curl.
They go down like water, dripping down your chin and you laugh when Steve wipes it off your collarbones before he grabs your chin and smashes his lips against yours. You immediately reciprocate, mouth opening as he bends you over the bar, his hair golden and his hand trailing up your thigh.
“Fucker,” Bucky mutters, finally managing to rip his gaze away. A heat blazes through his stomach.
Stupid fucking party for damn Romanoff’s birthday. Sometimes he hates being some of the oldest friends that redhead knows. It makes him feel creepy, wading through a sea of college students that are only one or two years younger than him. Steve himself is finishing his last year, so he’s sure he doesn’t share Bucky’s plight of feeling old.
He wishes he could just approach you and ask to leave, pin you against the wall of his apartment, take you like he knows Steve’s going to later, but he can’t.
You aren’t fucking dating. Not fucking friends, either.
No, Bucky just fucks Romanoff’s best friend until she’s fucking stupid, begging for it, and leaves in the morning because that’s how the universe fucking works.
And sometimes, he wishes it didn’t work that way.
“Not enjoying yourself, James?” Birthday Girl Romanoff asks, appearing at his shoulder and he turns to her, shifting in his seat.
“Steve’s too busy chatting up your friend for me to do anything,” he replies, keeping his tone light and Romanoff glances at where Steve’s made his way to kissing up your neck, your fingers carded through his hair.
“Give him a break,” Romanoff says. “They both need to get laid.”
“You don’t think she’s getting laid?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Every fucking guy I’ve met has said they wanted to get with her at least once.”
“Sounding a bit jealous over someone you claim to hate, James,” the redhead teases, sipping on her mojito with raised eyebrows.
“I’m just saying. All the boys were saying they were into it.”
“And you?”
“She’s… a brat.”
“Seems to me that you’re into that,” she hums, leaning on his shoulder. “Honestly, it would’ve been better if you two met before her and her stupid boyfriend did. Ever since she moved in with Rumlow…” The woman trails off and Bucky absently fills in the blanks, she’s faked every single orgasm she’s had with him. “I don’t know. He’s a fucking prick. Doesn’t treat her like she deserves.”
“Does he—“
“No. Just… never a priority, is she? Why else is she here alone?” Natasha pauses, as if debating how much to tell him, then adds, “Then he gets all pissy about where she’s been. On his beck and call, isn’t she?”
“Asshole,” Bucky replies distantly. Steve has his hand basically up your dress and he watches as your legs pull him closer, your lips running along the shell of his ear. “You’re endorsing your best friend cheating on her boyfriend, you know, when we could just be beating him up”
“Hey. She said she was going to break up with him. I can’t make those choices up for her and I’m not about to land any of my friends in jail trying to be my ride or dies.” Romanoff shrugs, glancing at her friend. “Besides, she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, does she? It’s not like she can move into my dorm or move back into her parents across the country.” Bucky watches as you hook your legs around Steve’s waist and he hoists you into his arms, disappearing into the crowd.
By the direction, Bucky can guess the destination and some distant part of his head whispers, She could move in with me.
“Might want to avoid the bathrooms for a while,” he comments and Romanoff snorts, the ice crackling by her straw as she stirs her drained glass.
“I’m going to go get laid, too,” she replies frankly. “Don’t stay brooding in the corner, Barnesy-bear. Your face is one worthy of being sat on.”
“Thank you.”
With that, the redhead slips into the crowd and Bucky gets up, plucking his jacket and leaving the bar. His pants are tight with the thought of your mouth and the sound of your gasping breaths echoing in his ear. The feeling of your fingers scratching down his back makes him roll his shoulders back as he flags a cab.
So what if you’re fucking Steve?
It’s not like he’s exclusive with you.
He can’t fault his best friend for having excellent fucking taste.
As he enters the cab and tells the driver his address, he wonders how the fuck someone like Rumlow snagged the title as your boyfriend when there are so many other options.
Steve being one, but he’s still living on-campus.
Bucky doesn’t want to say it, but maybe he, with his own apartment and steady job and intimate knowledge of your desires and interests and needs, is the other.
.
It’s two weeks later when he finally sees you again, at Romanoff’s birthday function at the beach. Something with closer friends, in broad daylight at a beach house Romanoff’s parents own. She and Sam are already there by the time Bucky gets there, unpacking in rooms for a weekend stay.
“Take any room you like,” Romanoff calls from upstairs and Bucky does so, choosing one of the few rooms on the main floor just as another figure walks in.
“I’m here, Nat!” Your voice echoes against wooden walls as Bucky pokes his head out of his room to see you there. He doesn’t know whether he should feel guilty or not that he’s glad Steve hasn’t sated your hunger when you show up alone, shorts riding up your thighs and a t-shirt that is so sheer it does nothing to conceal the bikini top you wear beneath it. “I’m taking my usual room.”
“Fine with me!”
With that, you walk down the hall, eyes meandering over the living room and kitchen. Bucky’s throat closes up when you walk past the stairs to stop at his room and you smirk all saccharine at him.
“Hey, Barnes.”
He scans your face for a moment. “You came. Thought you’d still be sucking Steve’s face off like you were back at the bar. Or… sucking his dick. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Well, that was a one-off thing. Heat of the moment,” you dismiss, leaning against his door frame and he hates the way you look against the wood. Makes something in him stir, makes the blood run hot and his mind focus on one image in particular.
“What’d your boyfriend say when he saw your neck fucking marked up?” he asks, uncaring of the thin ice he stands upon. You frown, arms crossing.
“I was careful,” you reply tightly, “and I didn’t let him leave any marks.”
Bucky can’t help the small flash of satisfaction at hearing that. “You’re not careful with me. I like seeing your neck tatted up with it,” he comments, his hand twitching to wrap around your throat as he lifts his finger to trace the soft, pulsing vein along your neck. You tilt your chin up, eyes narrowing with amusement.
“I’m not yours, Barnes.”
“What you say tells me differently, princess.” Dropping his hand to grab your wrist, he pulls you into his room and slams the door shut, pinning you against it with a harsh push. You exhale sharply, the breath pushing out of your lungs as your bags drop with a disant thump. His senses zero in on everything about you, the light scent of the sunblock smeared into your skin, the cotton twisting beneath his fist as his other hand finds your neck on its own accord. “You’ve been distant lately, kitten.”
He can feel your racing pulse against his palm as you smirk, hands wrapping around his waist and pulling him flush against you. Every inch of his skin is pressed against yours as you hike a leg up onto his hip. His hand at your waist immediately goes to cup it and you loop your arms around his neck innocently.
“I’ve had a lot of work to do. Brock and I…” You let out a soft hum as if to ponder but he knows it’s just to piss him off, “spent some time alone. Romantic trip out of town. Then, I had other things to do.”
“Did you?” It’s not a question Bucky wants answered as you nod demurely, lips twisted into a smirk. He wants nothing more than to yank your shorts down, spin you around, and have you screaming his name as he takes you again and again. He’s been blue balled for two weeks and you haven’t answered any of his calls.
Now, he knows why.
“So, that stupid boyfriend of yours was with you, huh?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he leans in close. He can taste the vodka in your mouth still, the vodka he never got to taste two weeks before in a bar, along with something fruity. Your gum, maybe, or an orange that you sucked clean off its peel. “And then what? Did you hop off after you faked your way through a few nights with him and head for Steve’s? Hm?”
“Temper, temper, James,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his. His entire body is alight, every nerve shooting sensations through his limbs as your fingers curl against the nap of his neck. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“Jealous, yeah.” His hand on your thigh trails up and inward, sneaking past the hem of your shorts as you lower your leg to hook on his calf, pulling him infinitely closer. His dick is pressing against his swim shorts, completely obvious and painfully hard against your navel as he shifts his hips just enough to let his hand sneak further up your shorts. “Why would I be jealous?”
His fingers find the silky slip of your bikini bottom and brush over the junction of your hip, smirking at the tremble he can feel course through your body.
“You wanted me that night at the bar,” you whisper as he slowly trails deeper inward. “Tell me that isn’t true.”
“Who didn’t, hm?” He smirks when you turn your face away, biting your lip at his fingers dancing around a spot already slickening with anticipation. “C’mon, princess. You telling me you didn’t wear that black dress for me? Look at me.”
You refuse and he rubs his thumb into the side of your neck, dipping his head to bite at your collarbones.
“Look at me, princess,” he whispers, lifting his head to see your defiant gaze meeting his. “Tell me the truth about the black dress.”
“I didn’t wear it for you,” you bite back softly, “to fuck me in.” His hand tightens, just barely around your neck and your eyes flutter shut. Oh, how badly he wants to ravage your lips, lock you in this room and just take you in every way you want…
“Trying to make me jealous, kitten?” he rasps as your hips roll against his dick and you bite your lip, chin tilting up as your nails dig into his skin. Because it worked.
“So what if I was?”
“Then, you’re going to have to pay for it.” He spins you around and moves to shove his shorts just past his hips. You let out a sharp exhale at the pressure of his hand against the back of his neck, your hands pressed flat against the door. “You got anything to say for yourself, princess?”
His swim shorts fall and he tugs your shorts down just past your ass, tracing the smooth curve of it with an arrogant curve to his lip. His lips find your neck, nipping lightly before raising to your ear.
“I asked you a question.” His hand lands on your ass, kneading it with warm, familiar fingers and his words are a warning. In the silence, he can almost hear you rolling your eyes, struggling not to moan when he feathers smooth skin, tempts you with tiny brushes between the legs.
“You gonna keep talking, Barnes, or you gonna prove a point?”
His fingers hook on your bikini bottom, pulling the elastic away with an amused grin before letting it snap back against your skin.
“I don’t know. Are you gonna continue being a fucking brat?” He squeezes your neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you almost seem to melt against the door before he drags those bikini bottoms down too. Rolling his hips flush against your ass, he smirks when you shudder and try to thrust him in with a messy jerk back. “Aw, did you miss this?”
“Wouldn’t miss a thing about you,” you reply but it comes out strangled as his other hand wraps around your hip, travels down your navel. It wraps around your waist, keeps you tight against him as you smother his wrist between the door and your hips. When his fingers find your bud, you let out a soft sigh at the pressure he begins to rub into you and he smirks, biting the shell of your ear.
“C’mon, princess. You can admit it if you like,” he murmurs. Your fingers dig into the wood as you try to push yourself—in what direction, away from his hand, towards it, Bucky doesn’t know. He reaches farther down, fingers tracing through slick heat and he chuckles huskily against your skin, biting lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. “‘S that all for me?”
“Shut up,” you growl. Your eyes flash to him and he pushes you flush against the door, your head falling back against his shoulder as cock nestles itself between your cheeks. So close, not quite there. His hand on your neck travels forward, crooking inward and his fingers wrap around a silky neck from the front. He can feel every beat of your heart, the raspy whistle of your breathing. Lips falling to your exposed neck, Bucky sucks marks he knows are going to last if he doesn’t stop himself soon but two weeks has been two weeks too long— “Barnes.”
“Relax… it’s been a while since you’ve had a proper fuck.”
“Cocky bastard.”
“Needy brat.”
Your eyes flutter shut as his fingers work at a languid pace inside you. He knows every nook and cranny, every angle that brings you euphoria and he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust, arrogant smile growing when you melt back onto his shoulder, lips slightly parted.
“Don’t have time for foreplay,” you finally manage to croak and you turn to look at him, eyes surprisingly clear for having his fingers in your soaking heat and working you up a steady incline.
“It’s the fucking beach, kitten. They won’t be in a rush to get anywhere.” Your lips are tantalizing up close and he chuckles, fingers pressing gently into your pulse. “How quiet can you be?”
“Try me,” you breathe, chest heavy and eyes filling with assured focus, “bitch.”
Challenge accepted.
Nudging your legs ever so lightly apart, he is about to push in. He can feel your heart beating through your back, a quick, racing drum and your breasts heave with every anticipating breath.
“James! Y/N! Wanna meet Steve at the beach?”
Natasha’s voice breaks the humid tension like a hot knife through butter, and your eyes fly open as if you’ve risen from a trance and he growls, not quite moving yet.
To say nothing raises suspicion.
He hates it here.
“Sure!” Bucky yells back right into your ear, much to your displeasure and he shrugs, trying to repress the smirk as his hand drops and playfully squeezes your breast. You return with a subtle nip to his jaw and he steps back. Your shoulders drop and you turn around, leaning against the door with a soft, condescending smile. Your eyes are blown with a mistiness and your thighs press together as he sucks his fingers clean. Your gaze narrows, he smirks with glee.
“What was that about not being in a rush to get anywhere?” you ask, dismissively sweeping your gaze up and down his body before grabbing your pants and pulling them up. His eyes follow the slow trail of the fabric and he sighs softly between parted lips. “Play one of those audios I know you’ve got on your phone. Can’t ever get enough of me, can you, soldier boy?”
“Don’t put yourself on a pedestal, princess.”
“I’m not.” You pick up your bags and open the door, letting cool sea wind sweep into the room that was cloudy with heat and lust. He can’t help the smile that digs into his cheeks despite how disappointed he is as you shrug innocently. You play the part so well. “It’s just the facts.”
Not for the first time, Bucky is left with the thought that Rumlow doesn’t deserve a second of your time.
.
It’s near the end of the month, the very last day. The thirty-first of May.
You broke up with your stupid boyfriend three days ago. He knows because he looked at your Instagram only to find all the pictures with him gone.
But he wasn’t stalking. He was just…
Curious.
Also, Natasha FaceTimed him and Steve, ranting all about it. So, he came upon this naturally.
Not stalking at all.
“Hey.” Bucky’s lying flat on his bed, naked and the sheets are too warm as he hears you pick up with a disgruntled sigh. “You awake?”
“Am now.” You don’t sound too heartbroken but your voice is a bit thicker than he remembers as you sniff. “What do you want?”
“Are you sick?”
“No, I was crying.”
He arches an eyebrow at your blunt response but doesn’t continue that line of interrogation. “Where are you staying?”
“Why does it matter to you? What do you want?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to come over, princess,” he replied dryly. “But if you’re on the streets, I can come pick you up.”
“I’m not on the streets,” you reply sharply in a way that makes Bucky doubt your words. “But fine. I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Princess,” he begins but you cut him off.
“I just needa pack some things. See you in twenty.”
You hang up without another word. He lets his cellphone drop with a heavy sigh, sitting up and pulling on some boxers and some ratty old university hoodie.
It’s another fifteen minutes before there’s a knock on the door and he moves from the kitchen to the door, abandoning the orange juice he poured to pass the time. Swinging open the door to reveal that pretty face, he smirks to hide the concerned expression threatening to overtake his face. You look like hell, heavy eye bags and a wariness that he’s not used to seeing on your bold face. You’ve got luggage by your legs and a backpack is strapped to you as you regard him.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
“You called me, remember?” you reply dryly. He steps aside, inviting you in. Walking in, toeing off your sneakers, and shedding your jacket, you let your backpack drop as Bucky pulls your luggage in. “Woke me up and everything.”
“Yeah, I bet I woke you up from your beauty sleep,” he snorts and you roll your eyes as his eyes trail over the dull skin of your shoulders, the limpness of your hair. He closes the door behind him, an unfamiliar tug pulling at his stomach. “Your boyfriend didn’t even give you time to find a new place?”
“No. And he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Just a guy you used to fuck on occassion who couldn’t even make you come,” he says sagely and you sigh, rolling your eyes again.
“Are you describing yourself?” The words make blue eyes flash to meet yours and you smirk at the dangerous warning glimmering in his irises. Cocking your head, you shrug and lean against his dining table. “So, what do you want?”
“Why do I ever call you here if it isn’t for fucking you, huh, princess?” he muses, but even he can’t find the reason anymore. Whatever libido he was housing had melted in the time between you hanging up and you arriving at his apartment. As you stand before him, his blue eyes flicker from your exhausted face to the way your body seems strung out and on high alert. He sighs, too. “I didn’t want you in some seedy motel where the locks don’t work and the concierge is probably on the registered sex offender’s list. That sound good enough for you?”
You smile, the only thing familiar about you, and it sends a wave of relief through him. “Being nice isn’t your colour, Barnes.”
“Go take a shower,” he retorts, plucking your bag from the floor by your feet and he notices you don’t protest when he grabs your jacket and throws it in the hamper. “Then, we’ll talk.”
“Fine.” You’re unnaturally obedient as you head silently for the bathroom and he brings your luggage to the living room, setting it by the couch and laying it flat. Unzipping it quickly, he grabs the clean clothes he can find right off the bat and goes into his room to put them on his bed so you can grab them as soon as you come out. You’re standing in his bathroom, shedding your tank top and he grabs some clean towels.
It’s a strangely intimate silence as he offers you the towels and you dip your head in thanks. He can see the beginnings of a bruise on your bicep and he reaches tenderly for it, fingers barely brushing your skin.
“Did he—” The anger comes unbridled, hot and heavy and dark, in his voice and you don’t even jerk out of his touch. You’re completely relaxed in his presence as you look at your reflection in the mirror, so unlike a few minutes before when you’d been a ball of tension and you shake your head. His thumb gently digs into your skin and he can feel the pulsing heat of it. It’s fresh. Not even a day old, probably.
“No. I was walking and it was dark. Guy was coming out of a cab and didn’t see me standing there. Got whacked by the door,” you assure, pulling your arm out of his loose hold. Unbuttoning your pants, you continue to undress as he stands there, eyebrows knitting together. The air is wrought with an energy he’s unfamiliar with and he withdraws but your hand reaches for his wrist. Wide eyes dart to your face and he’s shocked by the surprisingly soft smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, uh, sure. Hungry?”
You let go of his wrist and his skin is tingling. He rubs at it absently as you nod, your strange smile ever present. “Starving.”
“I’ll whip you something to eat.”
As he’s stirring Kraft Dinner around in a bowl, he listens to the shower run and thinks.
Or doesn’t think.
Time seems to pass in such a strange way. He’s cooking for you and you’re in his shower and nothing about this is normal or something he’s used to, but it’s not something he hates.
The shower turns off just as he’s sliding the mac into a bowl and he pours you a glass of water before finishing his own abandoned cup of orange juice.
Your footfalls are light and you smell like his shampoo as you sit down at his kitchen island, clad in the clothes he laid out for you.
“It’s just some Kraft I had lying around,” he says uneasily, pushing the bowl towards you but you take it anyway with a shrug and a easygoing smile. You look more awake after the shower and colour has worked its way back into your lips. There’s new life in your eyes as you eat and Bucky, satisfied, heads for the couch just to watch whatever’s on until you’re done.
Everything seems so strange, mundane, almost… domestic as you eat, scroll your phone, and he watches The Dark Knight just because it’s on. He watches the movie blindly, his mind still going a mile a minute and his body unintentionally becoming attune to yours in a way he only knows with when he’s fucking you.
But now, he knows how you move, knows when you’re putting your bowl in the sink and knows when you’re walking towards him by the way his heart starts beating just a millisecond quicker, the gentle give of his couch as you sit down beside him. Your eyes burn into his cheek and he glances at you out of the corner of your eye.
“Come here,” he allows, lifting his arm from the pillow and you scoot closer, pulling the pillow into your lap and hugging it tight. He rests his arm along the back of the couch. “You didn’t die of food poisoning. Pity.”
“You’d have to be truly something to fuck up Kraft Dinner, Barnes,” you reply dryly, smirking at him and he suppresses a snort as you tuck your knees up. “It was good. Although, I hope you’re not living off of that stuff.”
“I do take out every once in a while,” he says with a shrug and you roll your eyes.
“I’m a college student and I can cook better than you.”
“You’re one year younger than me. We’re not so different.”
“Whatever you say.”
Bucky can’t help the amused smile edging its way onto his face as you fall into silence, watching the movie, too. One thing Bucky’s always liked about you, even if he didn’t like anything else, is that you share a lot of the same interests as him. They had whole rants on how terrible some movies were, or the disappointment that was some TV finales. It always made pillow talk a fun time, if they ever made it to that stage.
It was more often than not either of them would wake up before the other and just head out without a single word.
Bucky finds he likes your companionable silence more than he thought he would. Maybe he should’ve indulged pillowtalk a bit more. By the small, sated smile on your lips, he wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.
“You know,” you say after a while, “when I said at the beach house that you wanted me…” Your voice rouses Bucky from his trance of staring at the TV. The credits are rolling and he hadn’t even realized. So lost in his thoughts he was near the end, thinking about Rachel’s letter to Bruce and hyper aware of your every shift in your seat beside him, the movie seemed to pass by in a blink.
Something about the long lost melancholy of lost chances…
Bucky’s never been fucking sentimental, but even he can see the chance that Bruce Wayne really… really missed out on, and the blue-eyed man doesn’t want to be in that position ever. To do the right thing only to find out it’s too late. Because she died in the end, didn’t she? She died and he was alone even though he tried…
“What?”
“At the beach house,” you repeat. “When I basically told you that you wanted me…” you say with a roll of your eyes, “it was just teasing, foreplay.” Then, more seriously: “But I guess I was being like Two-Face. Double entendres, innuendos, all that.”
“You’re going to become a vengeful, homicidal DA?” he quips wryly and you huff in faux irritation, poking him lightly in the chest.
“No. God, use that brain inside that pretty little head of yours for once.”
“Aw, you called me pretty.”
“Barnes.”
“Fine. Continue.”
“Well, what I was saying… When I said you wanted me… God, this is stupid. Feel free to just punch me in the face after, but…”
“But?” Eyebrows knitting together, he looks at you and you pull the blanket up to your face, embarrassment telltale in the way you avert your eyes. He gently pushes the blanket down, muting the TV and waiting patiently. You look more alive that you did the first minute you walked into your apartment and you look like you want to bury yourself in the blankets but he’s not going anywhere and you stare at him, lips pressed into a flustered line. “I’m not going to punch you in the face. You can just tell me.”
“I guess… I just... I wanted to believe that you wanted me,” you state, shaking your head, “for me. Like some affirmation that there’s a possibility you could ever want me like that, and… I’m being dumb. I swear I’m not usually like this, all sentimental and shit, but it’s just I feel like shit and you don’t care about any of that and Brock… I broke up with him because I know he doesn’t love me even if he says he does and that I deserve better but I just… it gets to me, you know? It fucking gets to me when I’m all alone and now I am alone and if he didn’t put me first... maybe it’s because I’m not wanted.”
“Hey, princess,” he murmurs, reaching for your hands and you surrender to him easily as he cranes his head to keep your eye contact despite you ducking your head. “I don’t judge you for any of that shit and that’s wrong. He’s a fucking prick, and people want you here. Romanoff, Steve, Sam…” Me.
“I know. I know and I just… I’m scared because I have nowhere to go. And, you’re always honest with me, and just slap me in the face because… I can’t believe I’m asking you this what if… what if everyone’s gonna treat me like Brock did? What if no one will ever really want me?
There’s a beat.
Then, two.
He’s squeezing your hands so hard he’s surprised you haven’t drawn away but then he realizes your fingers are clutching onto him even tighter, his bones wincing as you crush his digits.
“It’s stupid. I’m stupid—”
“No, you’re not.” Bucky shakes his head and you—fourth year college student and someone he shouldn’t be attached to because you two are so different but he is because you two are so alike—are something else. No one has gotten under his skin like you have.
You’re not fucking stupid. Because I do want you. In a way. In more than one way. And you are irritating and burn so fucking bright and you’re fucking bold, but—
I want you.
He doesn’t say any of that.
And it’s complicated, but that’s how the universe fucking works.
“You’re free to stay here for however long you need to,” he tells you quietly, seriously. “I don’t care how long it is, and there are no catches. Just… just don’t give that fucker another chance, yeah? ‘Cause there’s always gonna be someone who wants you, kitten. Someone who’ll treat you right.”
You smile faintly, knees tucked to your chest and hair still a bit damp from your shower. You’re warm, soft, with no cigarette smoke clouding your silhouette and no glossy sheen of alcohol. You look like you in a way Bucky’s never known before.
He thinks this beats you in any kind of black dress.
“Okay,” you accept and you lean over first to kiss him. It’s a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, an innocent, flitting thing, but Bucky doesn’t mind. He eases against the couch and you lean against his chest, cuddling close against him. His arm falls around your shoulders, holding you tight to him and you melt against him just like he does around you.
For a moment, Bucky wonders how the fuck he got into this situation.
Then again, he’s not complaining.
The view is fucking stellar.
#fic: pretty face on a pretty neck#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x reader smut#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x yn#ldamc#my writing#bucky barnes smut
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"Cause damn he knows you'd throw him into the wall" and i sure will💀 u thought i was describing you but news flash i was describing myself the whole time😈💯 universal william kin who SIMULTANEOUSLY also wants william is not being able to express any sort of positive emotion except if its through violence💔 me and him would literally be put into a room and would fight to death like dogs then at the end kiss or smth before punching his lights out lovingly💜 also ur so right abt his failed teenage attempts at piercings, mf gave himself some nasty goofy ahh scars like u once caught a glimpse of his tongue when u 2 were eating ISCREAM and you noticed a vague spot that was simply way too suspicious like it was centered on his tongue and u ask him abt it it and hes like OI mINd yA bUsIneSs Ya tWAT bc hes still embarassed like 20 yrs later💀 happens to the best of us willy 💯💯💯💯💏💏
Now, sharty, i need u to rlly expand on goth s/o a bit more bc im positively famished. I always wear dark purple/black lipstick so all i can think abt is goth s/o flustering will by always leaving heavy ass lipstick marks all over his face, neck, hands and basically whatev surface is visible. She just cant stop kissing him in general bc hes so cute when he huffs and puffs and she knows the boseman kids and boseman himself will berate him and make fun of him even more upon seeing the lipstick marks <3 god forbid she publicly flusters him and kisses him in front of an audience - yours truly, will kinnie anon😈💜
I WOULD GIVE YOU SUCH A GENTLE KISS CUZ ON GOD ALL THIS IS SO..HSHIIJIED also Will would for sure try to wipe that lipstick off and it just leaves a damn smear </3
Know what my dear will kinnie anon,ima give you a treat of giving you some general Will hcs while i take a break from other requests- (these will be a lil goofy and dumb so enjoy)
William is a heartless man but he’s only ‘caring’ for his partner. He puts on an act sometimes to make his partner believe he isn’t somewhat fucking mental- (but tbh he’ll get used to you and not fake it-)
For sure has some sort of knife collection,which he would’ve used during all his killings but the only real one that was ‘planned’ was Charlie’s
Only really eats white bread,yeah he eats that shit plain more than making it into toast. I mean he had the scooping room for a reason- (he’ll eat peanut butter crackers sometimes tho)
If his partner would ever ask about having kids,i kid you not he does the damn ‘awooga’ before going on a whole rant how he didn’t want kids again. Sunny just happened because she liked him cause he was british- so on and so forth. (tell him to shut the hell up or he’s gonna drop his whole life story)
Weird as shit but loves how his partners blood would taste- and NO not even in a sexual way,he just likes the metallic taste and knowing it’s his partners blood makes his dumb brit head go wild. (god im getting a tad creepy with this-)
On a more sillier note- He only wears and owns heeled shoes ya know..these-
He owns multiple pears and only owns a single pear of normal shoes </3
Does he wash the outfit he wears everyday? no- fucker just has the same outfit in his closet like some copy and paste shit
Okay,honestly he’d use his height to his advantage a lot but honestly,not much..idiot
He can fuckin strut in heels,he is a fucking boyboss and no one can tell me otherwise-
He grew up in a church but even the damn priests said he’d either be gay or crazy..woopsie-
It’s cannon he can’t grow hair on any place of his body other than his legs and that scares me! :D bitch will have a baby face for the rest of his life
I feel like Will..cries over losing his ass- that was a big part of him (get it..? im so funny-) and lowkey has a shrine somewhere-
HEY WANNA KNOW MORE DUMB PIERCING HCS?- i wanna think he even tried to fucking try to do his lap now there just a huge scar there..it’s always chapped so enjoy kissing him ig
He’d for sure drag you along with him when he hides from the police and turns to Dave,he just asks you: “So,how do i look?” “..a gay cowboy-” “YEW TWAT-”
For sure has a thing for tall people in fucking big platform boots (no..it isn't self indulgent i swear-) and will try to steal them platforms to seem taller </3
( okay thats all for now my silly little will anon- i’ll for sure make more when i clean up requests <3 )
#will kinnie anon <3#blueycapsules#blueycapsules william#blueycapsules x reader#half of these are jokes and im half asleep im so sorry
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txt as boyfriends
requested : yes, thank you @engenemoa-forever!
words : 1.23k words
genre : fluff, just a lil suggestive but hella hella fluff, bitsa crack too
a/n : hi good evening thank you and sorry for writing this so late ))): i hope you and all u sexc mfs enjoy <3 special mention to @soobmint for helping out with this!! her ideas are too cute not to include <3
SOOBIN
this man would never stop thanking his luck stars that he’s dating you
a total lovebug - he is at his best when he’s in a relationship, so he just can’t stop smiling or simply be happy in your presence
is extremely shy so when you show him affection he has to hide himself so you can’t see him blushing like a churchboy
on the other hand, would always want to show you the love he’s too embarrassed to accept - would never be too proud or too shy to tell you how beautiful you look every morning or whispering sweet nothings to you in the night to help you sleep
would randomly cook meals in the night to show his commitment to you - even though he works extremely hard he would immediately take over the housework if he sees you tired
the PERFECT listener - you could rant about anything and everything for HOURS and he would not even fidget, listening intently to your problems
also gives insane advice so you always turn to him - basically your free therapist
endearments galore - “my love” is his utmost favourite
dates always include romatic-lit dinners somewhere intimate, and always end with the two of you, hand-in-hand, looking at the stars in your home
in short, this man is wholly dependent on you - you become the beacon of his life, and are every way his missing puzzle piece
YEONJUN
you both are fucking WILD
honestly no one even doubts the two of you are going out it’s literally so OBVIOUS
this goon is the most flirtatious little fucker known to man
WILL make you sososososososo flustered all the time
he is so bloody shameless - like he would happily argue with another over how his girlfriend is the prettiest, and not someone else’s
a lot of contact !!! so much contact on god!!!
HAS to have his arm around you all the time, perhaps the sneaky hand lingering on you all the time
ADORES to kiss you - honestly could kiss you all day, whether it be on your forehead, nose, lips, other places
would show you the whole world - spontaneous trips to either the streets of Paris or the mountains of South America, he’s ready to take you anywhere
y’all might not agree with me on this, but i don’t think he’d be jealous at all concerning you - in fact, he’s so confident in his abilities as a great-as-fuck boyfriend that he doesn’t mind you having boys as super close friends - he knows you’ll be in his arms by the end of the night
you are his only “darling” - his muse, and the love of his life
BEOMGYU
beomgyu as a boyfriend would be the best thing of your life yet the bane of your existence at the exact same time
constantly playfighting
like you both are at each other’s NECKS at ever waking moment - whether that be over you purposefully taking the last chip to you threatening to burn his neighbourhood down
teasing!!! the teasing never stops!!! this man will have you blushing all the time - he loves seeing you flustered so he can make fun of you which then only gets you pissed
his head is ALWAYS on your shoulder - sometimes he just falls asleep when he’s a little tired and despite you tempted to toss his head off and into the wall, you let him rest upon you
the two of you don’t have particularly loving endearments - i mean, if y’all think “prick”, “dickhead” or “cumshot” is affectionate
a massive brat - either his way or the highway homie you’re gonna have to submit to his movie choices
KING of pouts — one of those bad boys being whipped out and that’s it you’re the victim of emotional manipulation
jealous !!!! this mans gets soooooo annoyed when other guys are bantering around with you — always results in you poking fun which then leads to him sulking in the corner
super late messages at night where he sends voice notes of him singing or playing the guitar which help you fall asleep
basically he’s a massive pain in the ass but it’s a pain you don’t really wanna get rid of
TAEHYUN
okay so this man is quite different from the others because he’s not instantly comfortable
it takes him time to truly mould into the idea of a relationship, but when he does it’s literally seventh heaven
the realest — he is the one who tells you the hard truths or any upsetting news he has — even so, you only want to hear it from him because he would never sugarcoat anything from anyone, least of all you
deeply emotional — his greatest wish is to see you happy and will go to great lengths to fulfil it whether it’s just going out to get your favourite snack or helping you through a more serious problem
HATES !!!! absolutely DETESTS to see you upset — if it’s anyone specific that’s it they’re getting their shit ROCKED
super observant !! this man picks up on how you’re feeling, whether you need help or simply want to be in his presence — either way, he senses and comforts you in the best way
LOVESSSS to sing to you — for him it’s one of the most intimate acts he can offer, so at any time when you both are alone, he will play with your hair as he sings a soft melody to you
is actually kinda clingy — once he’s most himself with you he always wants to hold your hand or at least be closer to you, even in certain public areas — it makes you MELT because it means he fully accepts and sees you as his own
basically, you could not live without this man — he is the epitome of collected, trustworthy and deeply affectionate goodness
HUENINGKAI
oh my goodness
hyuka would literally never stop screaming about you
some goon could be talking about the presidential elections and hyuka will still manage to slide you into the conversation — eventually someone will tell him to shut the fuck up (he won’t listen though)
HUGS GALORE !!! this man would never stop he NEEDS to have his arms around you or how will he survive ??!?!
is never too shy or proud to declare his undying love for you — one time he shouted it a little too loud and it resulted in him getting a warning from the neighbours
no barriers !!! this man would tell you EVERYTHING about his life it does not remotely matter how insignificant it is he will report it to you
spontaneous as fuck !! wanna go midnight shopping for instant noodles in your pjs?? travel to another city on a whim of a decision? hyuka’s the one you seek
super emotional — not like taehyuns, where it is more suppressed — his is an all out spectacle — if you guys have a fight, he WILL cry his eyes out
sleepovers ALWAYS have to include the both of you making pillow forts in your bedrooms while watching some fantasy adventure — you both end up sleeping in your creation
although you will grow up, hyuka is the man you can still be a child with and enjoy yourself
#txt imagines#txt fluff#txt headcannons#soobin fluff#yeonjun fluff#beomgyu fluff#taehyun fluff#hueningkai fluff#soobin headcanons#yeonjun headcanons#beomgyu headcanons#taehyun headcanons#hueningkai headcanons#soobin imagines#yeonjun imagines#beomgyu imagines#taehyun imagines#hueningkai imagines#choi soobin fluff#choi yeonjun fluff#choi beomgyu fluff#kang taehyun fluff#choi soobin imagines#choi yeonjun imagines#choi beomgyu imagines#kang taehyun imagines
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“Not My Bias”: Park Jimin Imagine: Plus Size Reader
Park Jimin Imagine
Summary: Jimin is upset because he is not the chosen bias of his girlfriend but instead it's actually Namjoon.
A/N: Also, this is just an imagine, a oneshot if you will. However, if you want to see more of the story, just let me know.
Extra: Plus Size. Also, woman is older than the man by a few years. Pre-established relationship, Jimin is dating an Army, ft Platonic moments with Yoongi.
Warning: Fluff, Angst, mentions of suicide and issues with mental health, arguing, jealously... teeeeennnnnnsssssiiiooonn. Anyway, yeah.
----
Flared nostrils and a deep breath.
'He's just having a day. Let it go. He's just in a mood.'
The thought swirled around in that head like smoke.
"Babe, you were all over him. I don't know how you can think that's ok? If I had done that to someone you would've flipped out!" Jimin's voice sounded.
Regardless of the fact that Jimin was continuously all over people because he was very affectionate and naturally flirty.
Also, regardless of the fact that he literally had millions of people ready to volunteer like Katniss for the Hunger Games at the drop of a hat.
Regardless of the fact that it was very much clear as to how much he was loved and adored by his partner.
Still.
'Don't snap. Don't lash out. Just let it go.'
The thought swirled less like smoke and more like the unstable circle of terror that was the beginnings of a hurricane.
"I mean, fuck, you might as well just be with him. You were practically eye fucking him right in front of me."
Stone cold.
Every thought brewing in that mind was screaming to let it go, to talk to him calmly, to just fix it.
But that's not what happened.
Because even though Jimin was clearly feeling insecure and it had turned into jealously... you had feelings too.
You slowly turned to look at him.
Jimin's gaze was hard as he looked back.
He had that about him where one second he could be cute and adorable and the next he could be very intimidating.
However, his duality was no match for yours in that moment.
"Jimin, you've got about three seconds to apologize." you said evenly.
"Apologize?" He scoffed. "For what? Apologize for calling the bullshit when I see my girlfriend trying to fuck one of my best friends right in front of me?"
That was it.
You had a long fuse on a big bomb and right now... you weren't just a stick of dynamite.
You were a nuclear bomb.
You ran your tongue over your teeth trying in vain to calm down.
"First of all, fuck you." you snapped and his brows lifted on his forehead. "Yeah I said it. Don't you ever insinuate that I am anything less to faithful to you. God dammit, Jimin. I didn't want to have a fucking fight with you but since you seem so hell bent on it, let's go. It's time for war, mother fucker."
His gaze intensified at your response, "Don't you talk to me like -"
"Me?!" you snapped. "You want to talk about me? You're the one who stood right there, basically called me a whore and accused me of fucking your friend! Who by the way, you owe a god damn apology to! He didn't do anything to you and you've been a dick the whole day!"
It was the wrong thing to say and you knew it.
Bringing up Namjoon during a fight, especially considering the context was the worse thing you could've done.
It further ignited his anger and his jealously all but consumed him.
But you didn't care.
He may have started the fire but you brought the gasoline.
"That's just great, Y/N. Wonderful. Exactly the way to convince your boyfriend that you're not fucking someone else. Defending them in the middle of an argument."
Your screaming had clearly drawn attention and the door opened to reveal Jin's concerned face.
He said something but the two of you were too far gone in trying to outscream each other to hear him.
"That you started!" you snapped at Jimin.
"I was trying to talk to you!"
"You were accusing me!"
"Because it was obvious!"
You were shaking when Yoongi's head popped in beside Jin's but you paid them no mind even when Hobi appeared in the doorway.
"Guys, come on." Hobi said trying to calm you both down. "Don't do this."
"Come on. Let's go get some food and chill out." Jin offered, knowing very well how Jimin's temper could be and also how he could say some horrible things when he really didn't mean them.
He had a sinking feeling that they'd already been said though and there wasn't much that could be done.
"What was so obvious to you, Jimin? Hm? I am a fan. You know this? I was an Army before I ever met you. This was abundantly clear to you from the beginning. Did you really think that there would never be moments when I wouldn't be starstruck occasionally?" you seethed. "Because I'm sorry I'm not perfect Park fucking Jimin! I'm human!"
His jaw tightened and he narrowed his eyes at you.
"That's not what this is about." he said.
"Yeah, the fuck, it is." you snapped. "Listen, I'm about to make myself abundantly clear about something. You don't fucking know me as well as you seem to think you do."
"Clearly." he responded and you had to fight the urge not to strangle him.
Yoongi almost rolled his eyes at Jimin and his fucking mouth.
The rest of the members had joined the chaos at this point and you... you just no longer cared.
You were ready to go to war.
Fuck it all.
You drew a deep breath in through your nose, staring at the carpet before lifting your eyes up to Jimin's again.
"You seem to think that you have me completely figured out and you know everything about me. But you don't know shit, Jimin. Just because we've been dating for three months does not mean that you suddenly know every thought in my head. But you're about to find some shit out about me right now."
"You're right. I don't know wh-"
"Shut the fuck up." you said coldly. "You want to know so god damn badly why Namjoon is my bias? Fine, I'll tell you and you can either deal with it or you can continue to be a spoiled, selfish little brat. I don't really care anymore."
He would've fought you for calling him that but internally something stopped him.
"I was never into this type of music. It wasn't my thing. I listened to metal and classic rock. That was what I liked. So BTS was never really in my statosphere. But a few years ago, I was at my lowest.
My husband had cheated on me leading me to file for an immediate divorce. I had just lost our baby and I was wrecked. I didn't want to do it anymore. So let me paint you a picture here, Jimin. I was standing in my childhood bedroom because I couldn't bare to be in that house where he fucked his secretary. I'm standing there in front of my little vanity from when I was a kid and I had my grandpa's pistol loaded, the barrel in my mouth. My finger was on the trigger and I started to press down."
Jimin, all with everyone else, had gone completely pale.
"And then suddenly my cousin's stereo starts thudding from the other side of the wall. And it's "Voice" from Joon's first mixtape and I stopped. Because for the first time in a long time, I felt like someone understood what I was going through. I put the gun down and I saw there on the floor with my ear pressed against the wall listening to that song. I cried until I couldn't breathe because no one had ever put my feelings into words like that before. That song. Those lyrics. They saved me. I put the gun away as if it had burned me, I cried because I had been so close to ending it all over someone else who wasn't worth it. I went home that night, researched the lyrics and figured out who wrote them and then I began listening to anything and everything that Namjoon had a hand in creating. Because it was those words that kicked me back off the ledge."
Jimin was completely still at this point.
No movement.
No sound.
No nothing.
You were staring straight into his soul in that moment.
"So you'll have to excuse me if ever so often I get a little starstruck with the person who literally wrote the wrong that kept me from killing myself." you said lowly.
You finally looked around to see the rest of the members there, skin heating with embarassment that they'd just watched you and Jimin verbally rip each other's throats out and then hear your suicide attempt story.
You looked at Jimin once more before you shook your head and pushed your way through the members.
Several tried to comfort you but you didn't want to hear it.
You just wanted out.
And that was exactly what you did, shoving through the door and disappearing from sight.
Immediately, upon the slam of the door, Jimin erupted into tears, crashing to the ground.
He hadn't known any of that.
Taehyung rushed to his side, pulling him into his arms and trying to calm him down enough to function.
Yoongi pursed his lips before going after you.
He knew what it was like to pick at old scars like that and how fresh those old wounds could still be.
He caught up to you rather easily, insisting that you let him take you out to eat.
You fought him on it but he did something that he rarely ever did.
He pulled out his super power on you and used his cuteness.
And you couldn't resist the lil meow meow so you caved... just like he knew you would.
You didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.
Yoongi didn't push you and instead the two of just enjoyed a meal together.
You fought him over the check but he already slipped the waitress his card before you could even get a word in edgewise.
Then he took you to a local dog park, watching puppies chase their own tails because he knew it was impossible to watch dogs smack into each other and not smile.
He didn't force you to talk or to address what had just happened.
But what he did do was stay with you, offer you kindness, made sure you ate and did something that made you smile.
He reached out to place his hand on yours and gave it a squeeze.
"I won't pretend that I know what you've been through. I'm not that arrogant and I'm not you. But I do understand what it's like to get to a point where you don't want to do it anymore." he said as the two of you focused on a pomeranian with an attitude problem who reminded you both of Yeontan.
"You can talk to me. Anytime." he said. "I know I don't usually say alot but I'll listen. I promise."
"Thanks, Yoongi. I'm fine. I promise. I'm alot better now. I'm not the person I used to be. Things are different. Jimin just really hit a nerve with what he was saying and I snapped." you explained.
He nodded with a sigh.
"Jimin is someone who is full of emotion. He's passionate. That sometimes means that he loses his temper when he's scared. He loves you and he's more insecure about losing you than he lets on. He didn't express that in the right way at all. I won't defend him on that. I'm just saying, don't give up just because you two had a fight. A hell of one, mind you. Do you realize that you're terrifying when you're angry?"
You finally broke into a laugh at his words.
"I thought Jimin was the scary one." you commented, knowing very well that every single one of them collectively thought Jimin was terrifying when he was really angry.
"Shit, he's a punk compared to you." Yoongi chuckled. "You looked like an absolute demon. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I'd have never believed sweet Y/N looked like she was forged in the fires of hell."
You nearly snorted at his response before finally looking over at him.
"Thanks, Yoongi. Really. You made me feel a lot better." you admitted. "I'm glad you came after me. This was much better than how I likely would've handled it."
"How would you have handled it?" he questioned.
"Probably something self sabotaging and toxic as hell." you shrugged. "Or maybe I just would've cried when I cooled off. Or took off. I've been known to jump in the car and just keep driving when I'm angry. It's literally me running from my problems but for the lazy because fuck that. I'm not running from anybody. Zombies can just eat this ass."
He shook with laughter.
It was one of the reasons he liked you a lot and he thought you were perfect for Jimin.
You were naturally funny and had a great wit about you... and you were tough.
You needed to be tough if you were going to date someone who worked in the business they did.
You don't fall in love with the idol, you fall for the person.... but that person still has a job and to be their partner is really hard.
It wasn't for the weak of heart.
The two of you sat there for a while.
You'd turned your phone off almost instantly as soon as you cleared the building, not even entertaining the thought of dealing with any questions.
You assumed that Yoongi had likely told someone he was with you since he'd been with you for hours and no one was calling him.
You took in his profile as he watched a squirrel run up a tree.
You could practically see him thinking.
"Just spit it out." you sighed and his lips quirked just a little before looking at you.
"What makes you think I have something to say?" he questioned.
"Because, unfortunately, we are too much alike in some ways." you said.
He chuckled, "All I'm going to say is, cut Jimin some slack. He's crazy about you. Anyone can see that. And also, give him a chance to digest everything you just told him today. That was a lot. You know that better than anyone."
"I didn't mean to tell him like that." you shrugged. "I didn't mean to tell him that at all."
"Why not?" Yoongi asked, very seriously. "You love Jimin right?"
"Yeah, of course." you said.
"And you trust him?" he said.
"Yeaaahhh." you said.
"Then how come you haven't talked to him about that before?" he asked.
"Because we've only been together for three months, Yoongi and we haven't spent a ton of time with one another in those three months. You don't just blurt your past suicide attempts out to people like that." you all but snapped.
You were getting defensive and he knew it.
But Yoongi also knew that you were only being like that because he'd hit a nerve.
He knew because he was like that at times.
"You were friends before you got together." he pointed out. "I know you're an Army. I get it. But you and Jimin clicked at that fan event that day. Don't get me wrongs. He's a hopeless flirt but Jimin has never willingly forked over his phone number like that. He didn't even know your name and he was hooked."
You ground your teeth because you knew he was right.
"All I'm saying is, give him a chance. He's jealous of Joon. He can't help it. A part of him wants to be your bias because he's your boyfriend. I can get that." Yoongi shrugged.
"It's not like Joon is my bias is a romantic way, Yoongi." you sighed. "I literally just -"
"I know." Yoongi cut you off. "I know. I get it. Trust me. We are all painfully aware of that situation now."
You chewed on your lip, vulnerable at having your business out there like that.
"Hey." he said reaching for your hand. "I didn't meant that to come off the way it did. I'm glad we know. I wish you hadn't felt like you were so backed into the corner that you had to come out with it like that. But still, it's good to know that about you. I think it'll bring us closer as a group."
You just nodded.
He sighed, "Listen, I'm gonna tell you something that I think we'll help. Men are rather simple in a lot of ways. Some not so much but others- incredibly so."
You lifted a brow at him.
"Ok?"
"Explain that Joon's work inspires you and it helped you through a lot." he said.
"I literally just-"
"No, stop and listen to me." he cut you off. "Explain that you admire Namjoon and his work. You love his writing. This is also true for me or Hobi right? You and I have talked for hours about some of my stuff and I know you and Hobi sat there and dissected Hope World for like three days. You admire the work, the lyrics, the content, right?"
"Well, yeah, but-"
"I know that it's a little different with Joon because his song was the first one you'd heard and it was a rather traumatic time. So there's somewhat of an emotional attachment there. And honestly, I think that's what Jimin is so scared of." he said.
"Scared of what? It's music and yeah, I love the way Joon writes and yeah it was a crazy time but I'm in love with Jimin." you argued.
"Jimin is scared that Namjoon could take you away from him." Yoongi said directly.
"What?" you gasped. "But I love Jimin."
"I know that." Yoongi said. "Everyone knows that. But he also knows how much you obsess over anything Joon writes."
"It's good music." you said.
Yoongi nodded, "Yeah, it is. But Jimin has likely got it in his head that you could easily just run off with Joon and have this philosophical conversations about poetry and lyrics. I'd be willing to be money on it that he's insecure because you didn't start out loving BTS, you started out loving RM. And that scares him."
"It was never about loving RM or BTS." you countered. "I needed those lyrics. I liked RM as a musician. I liked BTS as a group. But I fell in love with Jimin. And I'll tell you another god damn thing, I never fucking meant to either! I didn't want to love anyone after that shit happened!"
Your temper was flaring, which truthfully was dangerous, as Yoongi could match you in it.
But he also realized you were just very sensitive right now and not actually angry so he just watched you calmly.
"I didn't want to fall in love with anyone. Ever again, Yoongi. I was terrified. I'm still terrified. But I met Jimin and he fucking smiled at me and I crumbled. It wasn't really about me falling in love with him. I jumped head first into the darkness because even though it scared me shitless, I didn't care. He's worth it. No matter what."
You didn't realize that you'd gotten to your feet until Yoongi was smiling at you and he gently nodded over your shoulder.
You turned around and there he was.
Of course.
Jimin.
With his expressive dark eyes and his dreamy lips.
As cliche as it is, it was almost as if time stopped.
There was nothing else but Jimin and you.
It became a race to get to one another and as soon as you got within arms reach of each other, your kisses were feverent.
"I'm sorry's" and "No I'm sorry" and "You didn't do anything wrong" "I was just jealous" "No, no, no"
They all clanged together in a jumbled mess of mutterings slurred with kisses.
"Joon is not my bias, Jimin." you breathed.
"Baby, it's fine. It's not a big deal. I just got a little -"
"No, listen." you breathed. "He's not. I admire him. I admire his work. But he's not my bias. I don't have a bias."
Jimin pulled back to look at you, "What?"
"I don't have a bias." you clarified. "I don't pick favorites."
"Uh..." he said.
"I don't have a bias." you repeated. "But I do have something else. Something super special."
"What's that?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"A keeper." you said.
"A keeper?" he asked.
"Yep, the keeper of my heart. Only one person can be that and that's you."
It was cheesy.
Ridiculously so.
But Jimin melted for you and he squeezed your soft body to his so tightly that you could barely breathe.
And all the while, Min Yoongi sat on that park bench, watching the scene from the corner of his eye, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Smug grin ever permanent on his impish features.
"Lil Meow Meow strikes again..." he whispered to himself.
------
—-
Hey loves!
I hope you enjoyed and I’d love to hear your thoughts!
If you’re interested in any of my other BTS works you can find the masterlist HERE
Love,
Mama Kennysaurus
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How about some rough dirty talk head cannons for Billy Russo if you don't mind me asking? What are some things he'd say during sex? Bonus points if you elaborate on what he's doing as he says them. 😜
I see your challenge and I’m here for it! Bless you for giving me the chance to get in my dirty inappropriate thots for Billy Russo. Ugh, you have no idea how good this makes me feel. Ya’ll really coming for my entire thotty existence and I love you all dearly for it, yes I do.
FYI.. I feel like I went a little overboard. I hope I didn’t but yeah... I uh... Got carried away a wee lil bit. Apologies in advance for this rude fucker and his dirty ass mouth. Also, his smidge of a humiliation kink (giving)...
Warnings:
{ NSFW CONTENT. NO MINORS.} If you’re underage, this was not written for you nor should you be reading it. If you continue to read after this warning, this is now strictly a you problem and there’s honestly nothing I can do about it because I warned you clearly.
If you are sticking around, here are some things you need to be aware of going into the post: mentions of public foreplay, fingering / handjobs, grinding, blow jobs, unprotected sex, oral sex against a window, humiliation/degradation kink heavily suggested and that’s it.
Tagging:
Once again, there is absolutely no one, not a soul on my Punisher tag list. If you’d like to be on it, please tell me or add yourself to the doc I’ve linked below. It’ll make me so very happy.
I’m gonna throw a no pressure tag out to @chasingeverybreakingwave and @twistnet because I know they both like Punisher and I think they might get a kick out of this. Absolutely no pressure, ya’ll.
Other Stuff:
[ faq | nsfw masterlist - no minors | tag list doc ]
BILLY RUSSO & DIRTY TALK;
♡ “Look at you, dripping already. And no panties? Fuck yeah.” is said in a low and husky whisper as his hand travels up the hem of your skirt. He’s cupping and squeezing your pussy and bucking himself into you. The man doesn’t care where you’re at currently, he’s only got one thing on his mind right now and that’s just to see how much of a mess he can make you before the end of the night.
♡ “Keep it up princess. I’ll fuck you right here, right now. In front of everybody.” -and as he says it, you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he will fuck you in front of everybody. And probably enjoy the hell out of it as he does. You’re teasing him on the dance floor, your ass rubbing right against the way he’s straining at the expensive suit pants he’s wearing. His hands are all over you, getting lower and lower. Going up the bottom of your dress. Holding you against him so you don’t dare put any distance between your bodies.
♡ “Eyes up here. I want to watch you swallow every last drop.” his fingers are buried in your hair. You’re down on your knees under the table or in front of him as he leans against the wall of the elevator. Your tongue dances over the length of his thick cock, circling the tip. teasing. You’re giving back in the teasing department as good as you get and he’s so wound up that he’s actually kind of pulling your hair. Pushing your mouth down on his cock as far as you can take him in your throat. Until you feel tears stinging at your eyes and you’ve hit your gag reflex. He chuckles and bites his lip and then he asks in a growling whisper, “You gonna be daddy’s little cum slut tonight? I bet you’d like that, huh? Do you wanna swallow it all like a good little slut?”
♡ The second you’re in the privacy of your hotel room / apartment, etc.. Billy has you pressed tits first against the floor to ceiling glass window and he’s chuckling, a low dark sound against the shell of your ear as he muses, “I bet you’d like it if I just slammed my cock inside you right now. Right in front of this window where everybody out there can see you take my cock.”. He’s thrusting himself against you over and over and his mouth is all over your neck. “Turn around, princess. Eyes on me.” he mutters. You turn around as instructed and he sinks down to his knees in front of you. Pushing the bottom of your dress up over your hips. “Watch me lick you clean.”
♡ When he cums, he’s growling. Moaning your name. Bucking his hips erratically at a bruising pace against yours. “Shit. Fuck. Shiiiit. Goddamn I love the way you cling to my cock. Tell me how it feels, me filling you up like this. Say it loud.”
#billy russo#billy russo imagine#billy russo fanfiction#billy russo x reader#billy russo x reader fanfiction#billy russo imaines#billy russo headcanons#my writing ; billy russo#my fanfiction ; billy russo#my n*fw asks ; billy russo#my n*fw headcanons ; billy russo#my fics ; billy russo#// absolutely no one under the age of 18+.#// body fluids tw#// blow jobs tw#// s*xual content tw#// unprotected s*x tw#// degradation tw#// hand jobs tw#// semi public foreplay tw
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Drabbles for my Various Sam and Max AUs 01- Ghost Max AU
Hi there! I wanted to actually publish my writing for once, so I decided to write a whole bunch of drabbles of my various Sam and Max AUs! I’m gonna try to make at least one for every AU, so wish me luck! Here’s the first one!
P.S. If you wanna hear more about them, please ask! I wanna talk about them! Don’t be shy!
TW: Mentions of Death and Cursing
Drabble 01- Ghost Max AU
Max had never really seen himself as a ‘people’ person.
When he was a kid, the only ones who’d ever tolerated his presence were his parents and a handful of his siblings, and even then it sometimes felt like that was stretching it. That had been fine by him. Playing too roughly with others usually sent him to time out while playing by the rules bored him out of his mind. At the end of the day, it just seemed easier to keep to himself.
The lagomorph had even preferred it, regardless of that weird pang in his chest.
In all of his life, Max could honestly say that he had grown fond of his workmates. Would never openly admit it, but the signs had been there. Whenever the rabbit teased Sybil, poked fun at Superball, eventually turned into something akin to affectionate after a year of knowing them. Hell, the lagomorph remembered the days he’d spent trying to get them together, leaving notes and gifts as the other.
There was a small part of him that yearned to go back. If anything, they were the only things worth living for.
Being dead put a damper on all that, of course.
In the beginning it had been great! Being a ghost was amazing! No responsibilities (taxes who?), all the free time in the world to do whatever the lagomorph wanted. Sure, not being able to enjoy the luxuries of food was a bummer but flying was pretty neat! It was only when Max tried leaving when it hit him. Literally.
What appeared to be some kind of force field prevented him from leaving his little ramshackle apartment. That hadn’t bothered him at first. After all, learning what ghostly powers he held could keep the rabbit entertained for hours! Could being the key word. While fun to start, progress was slow then came to a stop completely when it became fruitless. Roaming the same halls grew boring. Floating lost its charm. The yellow of the walls started taunting him almost.
Going to Heaven would’ve been preferable to the pseudo-hell he was trapped in.
A tiny sliver of hope came when the corpse cleaners came a few days after his death. Hermit that Max was, someone must’ve finally called the police after the smell became too much to bear. They’d burst in, covered head to toe in white before getting right to work. Which was weird, but not unexpected. Someone was making sure that his death was but a blip to be forgotten.
That was okay. The lagomorph planned to have the last laugh.
Opportunity struck. Jumping in one of their paths, the rabbit had snapped at the man, laying out every insult in the book (that he’d written, by the way). Imagine the look on his face when the fucker simply walked through him, face set in stone as if he hadn’t heard a damn word.
Because he hadn’t, Max had realized, horror thrumming in his core.
Nobody could.
They left. A few more people entered. The lagomorph tried everything. Shouting, yelling, kicking their kneecaps, pushing a tumbler off the kitchen counter like in those old horror movies his ma told him not to watch. Nothing. No flinching or yelps of pain left their mouths. Only sounds of exertion and mumbling before they too were gone, leaving the rabbit in silence.
Quiet. It was too quiet. Noise kept Max busy, kept that small ball of darkness from spreading through his brain like poison. Silence, for some, was comforting.
For him it was deafening.
Forced to see the same things day in and day out, the rabbit soon discovered the pang was back in full force. When exactly had it disappeared? The thought, while elusive during the day, always crept back at night, when Max couldn’t sleep to keep it at bay. It grew, evolved into what-ifs and questions he had no answers for.
How had Sybil and Superball reacted to his death? They had to know it was murder, right? A little bump to the head was the last way he wanted to go out, right behind getting shot but ahead of choking on a gummy bear. Were they looking for the bastard that did him in? A tiny voice from who-knows-where told the lagomorph that the pair didn’t care enough.
Max tended to agree.
What of his family? Funnily enough, getting offed made the rabbit more appreciative of his family. They certainly weren’t the most loving or caring, but there were hints here and there. A kiss on the forehead, an older sibling giving him the slightly bigger half of a cookie, little Milly coming to climbing into his bed during a particularly bad thunderstorm. Despite not thinking about them for countless years, Max couldn’t stop the memories from playing over and over.
It didn’t take him long to learn that they kept him sane, let him forget the pain in his chest.
(Let him forget how lonely he was-)
It hurt to confess that he desperately craved contact. With humans, animals, anyone! Even a scrap would last him a lifetime at that point-
You could say Sam was Max’s saving grace, as pathetic as that sounded.
The day the dog moved in was perhaps the happiest moment of Max’s- well, not life, but whatever the ghost equivalent was. Non-life? Existence? Guy was noisy for sure. Talked through mundane tasks, whistled random tunes, turned up the tv to the point where the lagomorph was sure the neighbors could hear every gunshot from the noir films Sam was so fond of, all of it blended into a wonderful symphony of cacophony.
Max loved it. Even his terrible banjo playing. Found it endearing even, but he would take that lil’ tidbit to his grave… If he could find it, that is.
The rabbit had watched from afar. Not really a point to creep on the guy up close when the chance of seeing him was zero percent. He was used to stalking people from afar anyway (obviously), so it felt nice to fall into a rhythm.
Watch Sam wake up. Morning routine included bathroom necessities, of which Max had only peeked once (by accident!). Least he could do was give the poor dog some privacy. After that was breakfast. Usually a slice of toast or bowl of cereal (something sugary and tooth-rotting, so the rabbit knew he had good taste) along with the essential cup of coffee. It amused Max to no end that it was more a glorified cup of milk and sugar, yet it was-dare he think it- kinda cute actually.
From all his observations, Max could only assume the dog was a detective of some sort. His oak desk was covered with endless amounts of papers and folders, of which he would spend the entire day looking through until Sam came home to do the same. Almost felt like he was some kind of housewife waiting for her husband.
Almost like he actually meant something again.
If he’d met Sam when he was alive, what would’ve been different?
Everything. There was no doubt about it.
Sam was special.
Max just hadn’t known how much until that special night….
Maybe ‘people’ weren’t that bad after all.
#sam and max#sam and max freelance police#sam & max#sam and max au#ghost max au#my fics#my writing#please talk to me about my aus
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yooo do you write for soulmate AUs? because like... the sinclair brothers finding their soulmates and that's what spares them from getting killed tho
I have such a soft spot for Soulmate AU’s and for these boys! I’m so excited for this prompt ee
Bo
Bo heard stories as a child about soulmates. That touching the person who you were meant for would burn, a searing pain that would mark you both, sealing your fates together. He talked about it with Vincent, mulling over what sort of soulmate they would like. “You don’t get to pick” Vincent would grumble, earning himself a pout from his twin. “I know, I’m just wonderin’”. But then came dinner. Bo hid. He knew what his father would do. “There you are you lil’ fucker” He snarled, slamming open the closet door. Bo screamed, thrashing against his grip. “Stop it boy! It will only get worse!” The chair. The restraints. Tears flowed down Bo’s face, his mother tutting at his behaviour. “You are never gonna find a soulmate Bo, you’re a monster.”
Bo never thought about it after that. Never even the possibility. He was a monster. At least he had Vincent. Every hitchhiker he picked off the road made Ambrose a little less lonely, for a little while. Bo forgot how to feel human for a long time. He forgot how to feel anything. He supported and loved his brother, the way Mama used to, but his heart wasn’t in it. He chased and maimed his victims, hoping to feel something. Nothing worked.
When you showed up in Ambrose, Bo sighed. “Here we go again.” He threw his cigarette to the floor, crushing the flame with his heel. “Hey darlin’, you lost?” You smiled nervously at him. Bo smirked, running his fingers through his hair. This one would be too easy.
Bo toyed with you, letting you wear yourself out, darting all over Ambrose in an attempt to find help. He could have killed you hours ago, but chasing you was more interesting than doing nothing. “I’m not gonna hurt ya sweetheart” You had your back pressed against one of the buildings, wishing the wall would swallow you up. The sky had turned dark an hour or so ago, giving you some cover between the houses. You glanced around frantically, desperating trying to hear what direction your attacker was coming from.
Bo spotted you a while ago, but wandered past anyway, letting you think you were safe. It was always so much sweeter when they still had a fragment of hope. He heard you scuttle around the back of the house, sneaking around to cut you off. “Found you-“ Bo sprang at you, his fingers wrapping around your throat. As soon as he touched you he yelped, retracting to cradle his singed hand. “What the fuck did you do!?” He snarled, vein pulsing in his head. You froze entirely, a deer in the headlights. “I... you...” You began, the burning sensation dulling from where his hand had been. Bo grew angrier at your useless mutterings, producing a blade from his pocket to press it against your throat.
“You little...” The weapon clattered to the floor when the realisation hit him. It had been so long since he even thought about soulmates, he forgot they existed. His handprint marred your neck, claiming you as his own. “No, this ain’t right.” He shook his head in denial, backing out of the alley. “FUCK!” His fist collided with brick, busting open his knuckles. This was a cruel trick, probably Lester thinking it was hilarious to try and make him completely lose it. Yeah, that must be it. He had no soulmate. Just him and Vinnie. Bo turned back towards you, each breath racking his shoulders.
“I don’t think this was ideal for me either.” You laughed nervously, keeping stock of the situation. Bo was deathly still. Feeling a little braver, you shuffled towards him. “You’re fake.” He barked defensively. Your heart went out to your soulmate, watching the torment flash across his eyes, every muscle in his body pulled tight, ready to run. You were close enough to feel his breath on your face. Something ethereal tugged at your hands, the appendages moving of their own volition. “Am I?” Without thinking, your fingers wound around his wrists, biting your lip as fire scorched your palms. You expected him to lash out, not let you burn your marks into his skin. The flesh felt mottled under your touch, reforming and melding around your palms. Bo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, suddenly exhausted from his outburst, every bolted down emotion bubbling out of control. You smiled as his chin rested on your head. “Bo.” He muttered into your hair. Bo was terrified, but damn it if he didn’t want to stay like this a little longer.
Vincent
Soulmates were just something that happened. Not to Vincent, but to normal people. He never brought it up, knowing that Bo had bad memories surrounding the concept. He’d had to kick Lester a few times for not shutting up about the pretty girls on the highway. Vincent always hoped he had some chance, but between his deformities and lifestyle it wasn’t really possible. Instead he threw himself into his art, doodling ideas of what his soulmate would look like, staring into the eyes of his sculptures. ‘It could have been you’.
There hadn’t been any reports of people touching their soulmates after they died. It wasn’t really a common occurence after all. Everytime Bo threw him a fresh body, Vincent was always hesitant to touch them. His brother had forgotten, but he hadn’t. As he grew lonelier, Vincent found himself spilling hot wax on himself, relishing the sting, wishing he could feel it on someone else’s skin.
“Vinnie, I got two, give me a hand would ya’?” Bo poked his head around the corner, disturbing Vincent’s concentration. He jerked his head in response. Vincent knew the drill. Bo would go, act charming, lure their prey into the house... so they could recreate Mama’s vision. Waiting patiently, Vincent patrolled his underground cavern, listening for his cue to strike.
You tumbled down the trapdoor, howling when you landed on your leg unnaturally, the sound of bones snapping reverberated off the walls “Please, stop!” Vincent had chased you through the house, dropping down after you. He sighed at the state of your leg; an extra job before he could turn you into a beautiful model. You sobbed pitifully, clutching at your thigh. Vincent lifted you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. You thrashed pointlessly, whimpering as each step sent a jolt of pain down your leg. “Please...” Your back connected with what seemed like a medical bench as the masked man manhandled you as he pleased. You gulped. There was no escape with your injury. Shears glided towards your throat, your shirt falling to ribbons below you. Vincent retrieved a large syringe, splaying his hand on your stomach to steady you.
His skin was on fire. Surely his imagination? Vincent recoiled, eye blowing wide as he saw the perfect indentation of his hand on your belly. It couldn’t be... You gasped at the sensation, propping yourself up to check the mark. “We’re... soulmates?” Vincent stepped back from you, trembling. He didn’t expect it to ever happen. And now that it was... he panicked. You wouldn’t love him, you’d just been fleeing in terror, you’d broken your fucking leg trying to get away from him. Bo wouldn��t let you stay, he didn’t believe in soulmates after all. Maybe he could fix this, salvage it. He had to try.
Vincent dropped the serum on the side, dropping to his knees beside you. If he ever had a reason to be alive, you were it. But what about his face? You would surely be horrified. “I’m sorry” He wheezed, looking down at the floor. Death would surely be preferable to a lifetime with him. “Can I see?” You gestured to his mask, curious to see your soulmates real face. Something pulled you to this place, and yes, being shit scared and breaking your leg wasn’t ideal but damned if you didn’t trust in the soulmate system. There was a reason you two were connected and despite everything, you weren’t going to throw that away.
Vincent hated taking off his mask. Even around Bo. He saw the side glances, the looks of disgust. His twin loved him, but that didn’t make him any less of a freak. But the way you looked at him, your eyes so warm and kind. He sighed, avoiding your gaze as he freed himself from the wax barricade.
He waited for you to scream, to gasp, something that proved how repulsive he was. What he didn’t expect was your palms cupping his cheeks ever so gently, the invisible flames licking at scarred flesh. You whimpered at the burning in your hands, blood running down your chin as your teeth sunk into your lip. Vincent pressed his head against yours, fingers weaving into your hair to lock you against him. You were real. You were his. And he’d never been happier.
Lester
The most optimisitic of all the Sinclair’s, Lester had a bad habit of trying to touch literally everyone. Everything he knew was from magazine’s he’d ransackes from the twins’ victims, considering that Bo wasn’t a believer and Vinnie wasn’t much for conversation.
When he found you trawling the highway, Lester jovially offered you a lift to Ambrose. “Ma brother’s got a phone you can use I bet” He beamed, chatting away as he took you down the beaten path. “What brings you out here then Missy?” You sighed. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant topic and you didn’t really want to bother him with your worries.
“Almost there, d’ya mind givin’ me a hand?” You bent over the hub of the truck, unaware of Lester oogling at your ass. He smirked to himself, trying to subtly brush against you and failing, horribly. “Hey, asshole!” Your hand connected with his face, the crack reverberating through the trees. Your hand turned to fire in your hands, clutching at it pointlessly to try and stifle the pain.
“I was only tryna-“ Lester turned into a puppy when he saw your hand burning, the initial sting of the slap turning into the warm sensation of a soulmate’s mark. “You’re my soulmate!” He jumped on the spot, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “I knew it, I knew I had one!” You groaned underneath him. This was going to be exhausting. “Ma name’s Lester, you gotta come meet ma brother’s Bo and Vinnie-“ He trailed off when he saw you leaning against the car, your arms crossed. “Oh I’m sorry darlin’ I get a bit excited”
“I can see that.” You giggled, running your eyes up and down him. “Why’d I have to get some nasty pervert though?” Lester pouted like a child until he realised you were being sarcastic. “Oh real funny, I was gonna give you the world but I guess I’ll keep it to myself now” Despite the gruff demanour and constant waft of roadkill, you could tell he was an absolute sweetheart. You extended your hand towards him, waggling your fingers. He entwined his hand with yours grunting at the foreign sensation. You pressed a kiss to Lester’s cheek, squeezing his hand. “Now that’s simply not true, is it?”
#bo sinclair#lester sinclair#vincent sinclair#house of wax#house of wax 2005#soulmate au#bo sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x reader#can you tell im a total simp for bo#he would be SO smug having his mark on your neck#and i’m cracking up at lester having a permenant bitchslap
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𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭
words:3.7k
pairing: aizawa x fem!reader
warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck
rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter
a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3
all rights reserved ©️aizawaskittenwhore. do not copy, repost, or modify.
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞
September 13th, 2181
2:56pm
Musutafu, Japan
“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.
In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.
However, some needed more convincing than others.
“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.
“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”
“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.
“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.
“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.
“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.
“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.
“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.
“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.
“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”
A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.
“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?
June 2nd, 2182
In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.
Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.
“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.
“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.
“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.
“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”
Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.
“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”
You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought.
“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising.
“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke.
“Like what, Takami?” You inquire.
“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”
He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours.
“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”
“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits.
“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.
“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”
The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit.
So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.
Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.
You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.
The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.
Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his.
“Consider it done.”
Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids.
“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.
“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”
“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout.
“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter.
“-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”
Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.
“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”
Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line.
“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass.
“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.
Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body.
What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...
excavated, for lack of a better word.
“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.
“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.
“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand.
“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them.
“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.”
You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body.
Good riddance.
“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.
“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.
“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”
“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”
“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.
“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.
“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.
Home.
November 12th, 2174.
“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”
“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.
“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead.
“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister.
“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.
“Deal.”
And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.
“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.
“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.
“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.
Ah.
If only that were true, Keigo.
taglist! : @liliesoftherainmain @therealwalmartjesus
#aizawa x female reader#mha x reader#aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa x you#mha#bnha x reader#hawks#nyafterhours
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Hey. Hey Hannah.
TUA x Witcher x Shadow and Bone crossover
GOSH ACE YOUR MIND
I've only seen the first two eps of shadow and bone still but I'm still thinking of SCENARIOS
(also I just kinda imagined them all in the grishaverse bc that's where my mind went first)
Diego and Inej are insta-pals bc KNIVES
"I'm Diego. I have a knife." *Inej takes one out* "Me too." ":0"
Diego also befriends Jesper bc like. He's a sharpshooter and Diego can control the Trajectory of things. It's Cool
Kaz and Five meet and they don't like each other at first but then they're like. wow we are both so so tired (also I feel like Freddy Carter could play like. a 20-something!Five if they let him age more in a future season)
But Five is canonically such an Old Man so he constantly calls Kaz a youngster and it Pisses Him Off
But Kaz has also definitely bapped Five over the head with his cane once (and might have almost died from it)
ALSO (this is in my normal tua/witcher crossover too) Five and Geralt have a Mutual Understanding and Respect for one another, as they both constantly try to protect their family even though they keep getting scattered/separated
Jesper and Klaus end up being PALS
Klaus sees the Darkling and he's just like... 😗 heyyy
Jaskier also sees the Darkling and he's just like... 😗 heyyy
Klaus Jaskier and Jesper form a fun trio with not a braincell to be found amongst them <3
(never mind the fact that in my tua/witcher crossover Klaus is Valdo Marx and he and Jask have a whole Thing)
Lil' Bleater and Milo are Goat Friends :)
Inej and Yennefer just. Give each other a hug. They both need it so much.
Allison might use her Rumor to try to stop horrible things from happening in the Barrel (and she gives Inej a hug too bc I said so)
Luther just straight up yeets known serial killers/traffickers in the Barrel. I don't know WHO he's befriending but he's def making sick fuckers befriend the ground/nearest wall.
...Maybe mal :0
just
*Mal sad that he's still separated from Alina*
Luther: buddy... I know... what it's like. to be separated from someone you've loved since you were kids.
Diego overhearing this somehow and marching over: I swear to fuck if you're talking about Allison again-
Mal: [confused in childhood best friend]
Vanya befriends Alina bc like. She knows what it's like to just suddenly find out you have a super magical Thing you can do and it can be Scary
Vanya, Yennefer, Inej, and Alina form the "Please Just Let Them Be Happy They're Precious Cupcakes" Quartet and nothing bad happens to them ever
And there's my THOUGHTS ace. my THOUGHTS
#I kinda wanna expand on this once I keep watching shadow and bone!!! :0#acemoppet tag#answered#these make... not a lot of sense :(#there's probably alot i'm missing tbh
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