#seriously anon if you don't want to spend your life with a fucked up body FOREVER

[darkbluekies]

Silas asks #6

Previous one Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3 Warnings: bruises, unhealthy relationships, mentions of marking silas up

What if I made silas a angry steak with vinegar 😡ok that sounded werid but here's the angry steak recipe 😂vinagear sauce, microwave that steak

He'll make sure all of your meals are cooked in dishwater.

What if after the "basement session" Silas find out that now the little thing has a really strong self harm tendencies? Like she start to bite herself, physical abuse herself and not only that! She start to call herself "dirty" (or smt) and her self esteem start to go down very fast. Is Silas will help s/o with it or he'll like it? Hope not the second option <;;:(

Of course he'll hate it :( he doesn't like when you're hurt, hence why he uses the basement as a punishment and not something physical. He hates to see painful marks on your body. He loves to see you painted in bruises, but not the ones that hurt. He'll make sure to tell you how beautiful and worthy you are so make sure that you know how much you mean to him. He'll dress you up in soft, fluffy clothes until you look like a marshmallow to make sure you won't hurt yourself.

"Come here, little thing, fuck, I love you so much. Please don't think like that. You know I don't want you to be hurt. I'll make sure you get well, I'll even call a doctor if you want ... I'll do anything to make sure you're happy, okay? Tell me what to do."

I was re reading your Valentine’s Day post with and I was wondering if he would be the type of yandere to buy his darling lots of clothes and made her spend hours trying them on in front of him? Ps you’re my favourite blog on this app, your writing is amazing and I’m always excited for your next post

[I did two valentines, but I'm guessing that you mean Silas? Thank you so much, btw that makes me so happy <3]

Of course he's the type to make you into his personal little runway model. He'll sit back in a chair and watch with dark eyes, loving everyhting you put on.

"And spin ... good job. I like that one. We'll get that one. What do you mean 'it's short'? It's supposed to be. I'm the only one who will see it anyway, so why does it matter? Try next one. I'm enjoying this."

Hey how are you? I just came back from school and was watching in the gym and saw some kids practicing taekwondo, so I was wondering how would Silas react to his darling knowing taekwondo and can be his ass? Would he be amused or frustrated I just wanted to know cuz I kept thinking about it for about an hour before saying it now. I hope you had a good day :) -new anon

[I'm doing good, thank you!!]

He'd be both frustrated and amused. He would be able to playfight with you and not have to worry about you hurting yourself, but he'd be worried that you would be able to escape him easier now. If you weren't showing any signs of running away, he'd not think much about it and would enjoy getting lessons from you. If you could teach him how to be as good as you, he'd be able to protect himself and you better.

"Like this? No? Y/N, seriously, teach me. Stop playing around."

How would Silas react to a reader with a bad light sensitivity disorder? Like irlen syndrome? I have it and it realy makes me feel isalated as no one elce i have met has had it in eny form (and i have move a LOT) if u dont want to do that what about an s/o who has dislexia? (As u can probarly gess i have that to. Life is so cruel 🥲)

Whatever problem you might be facing, whether it be physical or mental, he will be there for you. If you feel that it's hard to use your eyes, he will go to every doctor to try to find some kind of glasses to help you and if there are none, he'll be your eyes. The same with spelling and reading. He'll do everything for you. You don't have to lift a pretty finger :)

I would've spent all of babygirl silas money the first day tbh

my eye is twitching at that nicknAME

Hii I just read white bunny and I thought it was so good! It got me thinking about whether Silas would carry on treating the reader gently if they improved mentally or if he would go back to the way he was treating them before they ran away?

He would continue to treat them like he is. He's terrified of hurting you again and since you seem so happy when he treats you like this ... then he'll continue. Whatever you want, he'll do for you, don't worry about it. He's here for you ... always.

Hear. me. out.What if darling (s/o? Still don't know difference) ENJOY being in a basement (I am talking about Silas by the way) I mean, they (sorry i forget if s/o (darling) has a gender) think it's something like a minute just for them. No talking, no these annoying "baby" or "little thing", no forced touching. Just you ...and cold floor.

He'll be so pissed and change his tactics. You're not supposed to like his punishments! So you like the dark and quiet? No more of that. He'll be cuffing you two together and talking to you nonstop about how perfect you are and how he's going to keep you for as long as he wants to, aka really getting into your head.

I kinda want to bite Silas, he seem so chewy and acidic, green sour patch kid, especially his cheek, let me bite Silas, I need to bite Silas-

I mean ... he'd 100% like it so go ahead, leave some marks while you're at it.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere scenarios #yandere asks

[stupid-and-cute-are-enough]

it WAS 1:30 am and now i've got finals in mere hours so obviously this is how i should be spending my time. behold: screaming and crying publicly over @get-rammed's montgomery gator doodles

starting off STRONG with this beauty:

THE FULL-BODY HUG???? THE SKIN ON SKIN CONTACT??? one thing you MUST know about me is that i am WEAK for when the bigger partner wraps themselves around their s/o WEAK I SAY

(also monty's nose????? it's absolutely darling and so perfect for his lil face)

KEEPING ON THEME WITH WERE-MONTY

specifically the face................ he looks so dejected...................so tired................ so sad...................baby has had a ROUGH night and i desperately want them to be better 😭😭😭 (the HAND HOLD???? THE TEAR STAINS??? AUGHH)

we already KNOW how i feel about this one after all i'm that motherfucker who was so consumed by this doodle that i asked ram if i could clean it up and otherwise go insane over it we already KNOW that this doodle has me on my fucking KNEES

again THE FULL BODY HOLD??????? THE SAD EYES???? HE HOLDS ONTO THEM LIKE THEYRE SOMETHING PRECIOUS 😭 monty is trapped in a life he pretty much hates and they've gotta be one of his only sources of comfort 😭😭😭😭 i imagine the anon has to pull wayyy more hours once monty becomes a glamrock so they're constantly exhausted but desperately wants to be there for their struggling friend and vice versa for monty (and how pissed monty must get w/the virus bc why the fuck should he feel bad for them when it's HIS life that got screwed over?)

everything i just said applies to this one too except with more melancholy bc it feels like when you have to wait for your loved one to fall asleep so you can slip away quietly (but, of course, monty is holding on, so he'll be disappointed sooner rather than later)

:(

MOVING FUCKING ON TO THIS NEXT ONE OHHHH MY GOD YOU GUYS PREPARE YOURSELF

THE SNOOT RUBS???? THE HAND ON ANON'S CHEST???? THE BLUSH????? THE WAY HE RUFFLES HOW OWN HAIR 😭😭 GIVE IT BACK!!!!!!!!!!!! GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO BEAT UP MR. FAZBEAR ENTERTAINMENT HIMSELF GIVE MONTY HIS HAIR BACK!!!!!!

but seriously this one is just SO cute 😭 gator golf monty were such simpler times and it DESTROYS me knowing where they go from here :( ik both of them heal together in the end but they hurt so much between those two points AUGHH THEY DONT DESERVE IT 😭😭

GOING BACK TO WERE-MONTY

THE SHIRT??? THE SKIN-ON-SKIN CONTACT???? literally what else is there to say i rest my case moving on

THE CASUAL INTIMACY????? THE SKIN ON SKIN????? THE ANONS SILLY LIL SMILE AND ALL THE LOVE BITES?? look im down bad for monty as much as everyone else here but good LORD there's something so tender about non-sexual touch (esp with minimal clothing) 😭😭 its so special to me............. they're so happy to have each other i am ILL

iconic

SCREAMING AND CRYING THEY'RE SO SILLY TOGETHER!!!! LET THEM BE SILLY AGAIN THEY DESERVE IT!!!!

look at them they're up to MISCHIEF they're up to NO GOOD <3 and freddy is RAPIDLY APPROACHING (side note SWEETS??? 😭😭 i love all of monty's nicknames but something about "sweets" makes me AUGH................. it's so cute...............)

BONUS:

MORGAN <333333 WHAT A MASSIVE W TO TRANS-MASCS EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! wouldn't wanna be represented by ANYONE else

feddy <3

last but not least the comment i left (with my user and pfp blocked out bc you don't get to know me like that) on part one of project starlight that strikes fear into me to this very day. ignore my spelling mistakes i was going through it

i would've also grabbed a screenshot of the monty plush bc i feel special every time i look at one bc ram thought my comic was cool and it instantly became a core memory but this post has taken LONG ENOUGH!!! SLAP A SHIPPING LABEL ON THIS BITCH AND SEND IT OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#im not gonna put like any main fnaf tags on here bc none of this is mine lmaoo #i also used this as my opportunity to spew my headcanons bc they're so special to me #anyway #thank god remaking the post didnt take more than an hour #the og one took like an hour and a half but i could steal all of the talking points #if i do manage to recover the original i'll edit it a bit and post that bc im sure its better than this one #REGARDLESS #i hope u enjoyed my incoherent screaming ram this is just the surface #this is only the stuff i can put into words #layer on a deafening amount of sobbing and rabid sounds and youll get the idea #im climbing up the curtains and ripping out carpet. eating grass if you will #I FUKIN DID IT YIPPEE #alr i gotta get ready to leave for class #time well spent i say #my post

[chaoticforever]

I Still Hate You | Steve Rogers x Male! Reader

Summary: Once upon a time, someone said that hate sex is the best sex. They were right.

A/N: This is for you, anon! I'm so sorry this took a while. Life's been a little hectic at the moment. Hope you enjoy it, not really my best work.

"UGH, I FUCKING HATE HIM!" 

You stormed into Tony's lab with anger painted upon your features as you sat down in a chair with a loud huff. Tony and Bruce were working on weapons and armor for the team when they paused looking over at you in question. 

"Who do you hate, Y/N?" Bruce asked. 

"I think the better question to be asking him is what did capsicle do this time." Tony looked over at you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. 

"Fury is sending me and Steve on a mission together because he insisted that we work great together." You said.

"And that bothers you?" 

"Of course it bothers me, Bruce! I can't stand being near him." 

"Why do you hate Cap so much anyway?" Tony asked and you paused for a second at hearing that question. 

Honestly, you didn't even know the answer to that question. You just found him to be quite annoying, especially the way he acts like he's the perfect Captain of this team. It seems that the feeling is mutual though because he hated you just as much and would always glare at you.

So, yeah, you hated each other and you didn't want to go on this mission with just the two of you. 

You simply shrugged your shoulders, "Because he's annoying." You answered. 

You walked over to the couch in the lab and laid down, stretching your legs out, and stared up at the ceiling. The two geniuses in the lab went back to work and talked about words you've never heard before in your life. 

Your mind ended up thinking back to what Fury told you today. Why would Steve choose you of all people to go on this mission with? He could have chosen Natasha or Sam or anyone else to go with him, but he chose you, a guy he hated, why? 

It was probably because of your powers. Telekinesis was a good power to have when you were in battle, and you had good fighting skills, so it was probably that too. 

And you could admit that Steve was an amazing fighter and that tight suit of his did wonderful things for his ass- 

Quickly, you blinked and shook your head to stop yourself from finishing that thought. Where the hell did that come from? 

"Boss, Mr. Rogers is outside the lab and would like to enter." Friday said. 

"Let him in, Fri." 

The lab doors opened and Steve entered quickly, wearing his Captain America suit and had his shield in his hands. 

"What do you think you're doing?"    Steve asked you in a demanding tone, towering over you as he waited for a response. 

"Um, laying down." You looked up at him as the science bros snickered but ended up covering it up with a cough from the look the Captain gave them. 

"We have a mission to go on right now." 

"Oh, Fury meant today." You frowned and then groaned, "Now, I have to spend more time with you than is necessary." 

"Shut up, Y/N." Steve snapped, glaring at you as you stood up and put your hands up in surrender. You could hear the jet landing above you. 

You turned to look at Tony and Bruce, "I'll see you both later." You walked out of the lab with the blonde super soldier following after you. 

"You need to actually pay attention during meetings. It's very important and-"

"Oh, please spare me the lecture because I don't want to hear it." 

You entered your room and Steve didn't know if he should wait outside your room or walk inside. He slowly walked inside and he froze upon seeing you shirtless. He was outright gawking at your amazing upper body and suddenly thought about you covered in hickeys that he placed on your neck. 

Steve gulped, watching as you were about to take off your pants only to pause and turn around to see that Steve was in your room. You were shocked that he was watching you get dressed. 

"What the fuck? Are you seriously watching me get changed?" 

"N-No, I just wanted to tell you to hurry up because we need to leave now." 

"Whatever, dude. Now, get out." 

Steve walked out of the room with a blush painted on his cheeks and luckily, he managed to save himself as you changed into your suit. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

Despite you and Steve hating each other, you guys fought amazingly together out on the battlefield. You both would make sure to always have each other's backs and was the only time where you guys wouldn't argue about anything. 

But, an argument always happens after. 

Like right now. 

You both were back at the common room at the Avengers Tower and he was causing an argument, giving you the Captain-America-is-disappointed-in-you face as you turned away from him. 

"You need to start listening to what I'm saying. What you did was dangerous and reckless." Steve insisted once again as you sighed and turned to face him. 

"How was it reckless and dangerous? I saved everyone's life, including yours." You exclaimed. 

Steve took a step forward. 

"It was reckless behavior. You didn't listen to your Captain and you almost died trying to save me!"

You took a step forward. 

"But I didn't! You and everyone else are now safe. Sometimes, the Captain needs to listen to his teammates." 

He took another step forward. 

"Not at the expense of your life!" 

You took another step forward. 

"Even at the expense of my life. You taught me that." You whispered the last part quietly and Steve's eyes softened. 

You both now stood inches apart. 

You stared at Steve's baby blue eyes and wondered if they were always that blue. Those blue eyes were ocean strong, swimming with warm sunlit currents.  They were certainly the most beautiful pair of eyes you've ever seen. 

What were you thinking? 

Steve stared at your eyes before looking down at your lips and grabbing the side of your face, pulling you even closer to him than you already were. 

You can easily push Steve away with or without your powers, but you didn't want to for some reason and you wondered what the hell he was doing right now. 

"I think my teammate needs to learn a thing or two from his Captain. To learn who gives the orders around here." Steve spoke, his voice deep, and controlling which made you shiver as your lips almost touched. Almost. 

"What are you guys doing?" 

You both immediately jumped away from each other once you saw Bucky and Sam enter the room who looked back and forth between you two. 

"Nothing!" You responded quickly and Bucky raised an eyebrow while Sam smirked, "What are you two doing here?"

"We live here." Sam answered with a chuckle, "Were we interrupting something because you both looked-" 

"Nope, not interrupt anything." You shook your head and looked at Steve who shook his head as well, "I'm gonna go and take a shower." You announced and left the room quickly to get away from everyone. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

You stood in the shower and the hot, steaming water felt amazing on your skin. You definitely needed a shower after the long day you've had. 

You closed your eyes and just let the hot water stream down your back. 

After twenty minutes, you opened your eyes and decided that you were done showering. You were ready to go to sleep. You reached for the shower knob, but you were suddenly pulled back into someone's chest, "What-" 

"Shh." A voice hushed and your eyes widened because you knew that voice. It was Steve's voice. He wrapped his arm around your waist tightly and buried his face into your neck, sucking on it. 

"Steve, what on earth are you doing?" You whispered loudly, trying to turn around to face him, but he held you against his body firmly. 

"You need a lesson in disobedience, and I'll be the one to teach you." He said, his voice pitched low as he pressed himself up against you and you felt the blonde-haired male's hard length against one of your ass cheeks, "You want me, right? Want to get fucked by me, don't you? Want my cock inside you? Want me to teach you a lesson?" 

You whimpered at the words spoken and gulped because even though you hated him, you did want this and you were sexually frustrated and hearing Steve speak like that made your cock harden considerably. 

"I want..." 

"You want what, Y/N? What does a slut like you want? Tell me exactly what you want and you might get a special treat." 

Steve nibbled on your ear, his tongue flickering out to trace the outer shell of it. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin as you closed your eyes and sighed. 

"...I want you..." 

"Want me to what?" Steve asked as he reached around your chest, pinching and toying with one of your nipples before reaching down and stroking your cock slowly. You whimpered slightly and Steve smirked in satisfaction when he felt your cock get harder. 

"I want to feel your lips on mine. I want your cock shoved in my ass. I want to get fucked by Captain America." 

The super-soldier turned you around and pushed you up against the wall, bodies pressed against one another. You opened up your mouth and his tongue slid right in as he reached down with one hand to squeeze your ass cheek. 

You ran your hands all through Steve's muscular chest and his divine abs, as he continued dominating your mouth, letting out a low growl. 

"Fuck." Steve growled out. He would never use words like that, but he couldn't help himself right now. 

You gasped when Steve spun you around and crushed your wrists in one hand as his fingers were trailing over your ass hole. His fingers stretched you out and you were growing impatient. 

"Are you gonna fuck me now, Steve?" 

Steve smacks your ass hard, causing a cracking sound that made you wince slightly in pain and pleasure. 

"You don't get to decide when I'll fuck you, I'll decide that and this ass belongs to me. Maybe, I should leave you here, all desperate and hard for your Captain." 

"You can't leave me like this. Please..." 

The blonde super soldier nudged your legs apart and inserted his cock in your hole, starting at a small and steady pace. 

"Oh God, Y/N." Steve groaned in your ear, thrusting into you harder this time, "You feel so good. Taking my cock so well, baby boy." 

Steve wraps his arms around and you turned your head to the side and kissed him roughly, as he kept thrusting into you with powerful strokes. 

"How good is this making you feel? Tell your Captain exactly how good it feels." 

"...It feels good. I love it so much..." 

The blonde-haired male begins to stimulate your prostate as you moaned in pleasure that was coursing through you. 

"Oh, fuck." Steve moaned, "You want me to cum in your ass, don't you? You're all mine, aren't you? Tell me that you're mine." 

"Yours... I'm all yours. Now, cum in my ass right now." You moaned out breathlessly as you shut your eyes upon feeling him cum inside your hole. 

"Now, you have to cum for me." Steve licked a stripe of your neck before leaning into your ear, "Cum for me. That's all I want. Cum for your Captain." 

"I'm cumming now." You gasped as thick spurts of cum streamed out of you. 

You both were panting hard as you both leaned against the shower wall, the water still falling onto you both. 

"Great. Now, I have to take another shower." You muttered under your breath, looking up at the guy who gave you an immense amount of pleasure. 

Steve chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll help you wash up." He stated and stood up, grabbing the soap and helping you wash up. 

"This doesn't change anything about us. I still hate you, Steve." 

"Don't worry, I still hate you, Y/N." 

You both knew that wasn't true anymore and that this was the best sex you've ever had. Who knew hate sex could be so amazing. 

Both, you and Steve knew that this was only the beginning and that you guys would have sex with each other a lot more. 

XXXXX XXXXX 

#avengers x reader #avengers x male reader #avengers imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

[djarrex]

Goth Gf Anon🤙

Alright, alright, alright. Since that Tech piece was fucking phenomenal a d you said you don't get any thots of your faves, I'll lend one of my Fives thots.

So, it's the end of the war, Chancellor Palpatine had been exposed for his plot against the Jedi and executed for treason. The Republic and Seperatists made peace treaties upon realizing they were played on both sides. The war is over, Fives is a war hero, a statue in front of the Jedi Temple in his honor. But he could care less when you're smiling at him, tears in your eyes with the proudest glow on your face.

The Clone production on Kamino is halted, leaving the troopers, cadets and infants in a limbo. The Senate passes a bill allowing the Clones unalienable rights, passing adoption bills allowing civilians to adopt baby clones as their own. The Jedi also demand each and every clone has their chips removed. Scientists are working on a serum to slow their aging process down back to normal.

Fives rejoiced in victory, finally happy that the war was over and his brothers were treated as humans. But you.

He was over the fucking moons that he could be with you, not a war, battles or campaigns to keep you apart.

He marries you within the week of the marriage bill being passed.

You move to Naboo, Anakin had left the Jedi Order and started a home with Padmé and his twins, they visit you often, dropping off Luke and Leia when they're off on Senate business or off doing young couple things.

Fives loves seeing you with the twins, there's just something so domestic about it. When he sees you take care of them, make them giggle, feed them. And when the Skywalkers come back and praise you for taking such good care of their babies... it stirs something primal in his gut.

You two are intimate one night-- like many after you married. He's crawling up on his peak, he's right there, his brain switches off, spit firing shit as his thrusts start to stutter like the words rolling from his tongue, thick as honey.

"Y-you-- you looked so good with those-- shit!-- those fuckin' kids!"

"Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!"

"Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart!"

And you're thinking: "What a pleasant turn of events."

Then you just start fucking feeding him.

"Yes, yes, yes, Fives! Anything you want! We'll fucking grow old together!"

You moan, "Put a fucking baby in me, cum deep."

And he can't hold it anymore, an inhuman sound ripped out of his chest and tearing through his throat as he slams into you one more time, his spend shooting deep. 11/10 best orgasm he's had.

Afterwards, you both talk it out. You've always thought about starting a family with him, thinking about how good of a father he would be considering the way he always looked out for his brothers. Fives explains himself a little more clearer after the fact, and you decide you'll go to the med center to get your contraceptive implant removed the next time it has to be replaced. You've decided you wanted to start a family with him.

Apologies if this was lackluster, I don't usually write smut lines lol.

Ciao ;)

!!!HOLY OMTHER OF GOD

I...I- don't even know how to respond to this. it’s late I KNOW but I’ve been trying to come up with a worthy reply. 

whyyyyy did I start fucking tearing up when going through each word in the first half WHY this is so beautiful and Fives deserves so much more and I love him. this is perfect, you are perfect. when he starts blurting out his desires "Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!" I- uh- yeah. that sent me. "What a pleasant turn of events" LMAO. ME. please write this as a fic. lackluster? mmmm no not even close. I love this

But seriously, how do I even add anymore to this already perfect droplet of heaven you so graciously placed in my inbox. tbh though, my gutter brain immediately wants to analyze how that night goes:

(18+ only!!! fluff, breeding kink, unprotected piv) 

***

you were blissfully unaware of the way Fives gawked at you earlier today - how he watched you with so much love and adoration in his eyes as you giggled with Luke and cradled Leia to sleep

It didn’t feel appropriate, but he couldn’t help but get hard at the vision playing out in front of him - wholesome domesticity, soft giggles, and hushed coos filled his very own living room and he just needed to step away to take care of his painfully hard and aching erection      

Fives can't help it - up until recently he was sure on having a dark fate, one that either involved being killed on the front, or worse: never being able to truly make you his because of his sole duty to fight for the Republic just would not allow such a peaceful and perfect life - it would hurt you more than he would care to live through

He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted the twins to be his - living, breathing, beautiful humans that you and him had created out of love, and, well, good fucking sex

So Fives came back from the bathroom after tugging himself raw - trying to alleviate that wanting ache that’d been sitting heavy deep in his bones and showing its face in the form of starving arousal - and the Skywalker’s had returned from Coruscant to pick up their babies

Fives hadn’t turned the corner yet - the soft voices coming from the three of you, keeping quiet while the twins were finally asleep, stopped him in his tracks. He heard the way Padmé praised you and thanked you over and over for always watching the kids, and Anakin cooing in the sweetest voice Fives had ever heard his former General speak in right at his own sleeping babies.

Your own voice was extremely soft and kind, careful as to not wake the twins up in the hand-over. Fives’ heart - and cock - were aching.

That's what Fives is thinking of as he’s pounding you into the next system - watching with hungry eyes at how your pussy so beautifully swallows his cock, yet he can't help but be slightly distracted when all these thoughts about filling you full with his seed are stemming from how motherly and breathtaking you looked when interacting with the Skywalker twins - how you always look when you’re watching them

You’re both so close to finishing - Fives groans at the way your walls squeeze unforgivingly around him as you approach your climax - a sight that is most devine to him. He’s right there as well - the relentless clenching of your cunt sure as hell pushes him right there to where he’s about to-

“Y-you looked so good with the - mmph - the twins" he doesn’t even realize he’d just voiced his thoughts aloud - albeit, in the form of a growl - until he sees how your eyes widen after struggling to come down from your first high 

He’s no where near embarrassed - perhaps it was finally fucking time to let you know just how painfully hard you make him when you’re all motherly and in caretaker mode 

The way your features morph from being caught in surprise to desperation and hunger completely takes the filter off of him - and he begins voicing his plans for the two of you in the heat of the moment

“Wanna - aghh- fuck a b-aby into this sweet p-pussy” his teeth are clenched tightly together as he continuously hits that exquisite spot so deep within your heat and your head is positively spinning at his shameless confessions - fuck, you want him to make good on his word. 

“Fuck... you’re nearly ch-oking my cock, pretty thing,” he grits out between heavy pants. “You want me to, hm? Wanna let me - mmphh -  fill you so f-fucking deep that you swell with my child?”

Your body is on fucking fire - you’ve never heard Fives speak of this before, and boy oh boy it is 100% welcome right about now. Yes, yes you want that so, so bad but you never thought to bring it up before because everything was still new with how the galaxy has changed for the better... but right now - you’re going to fucking feed him so he can have the best orgasm he’s ever had

“Yes, love, please,” you’re whimpering those three words like a prayer over and over between loud, uncontrollable moans - completely taken by him and the way he looks so gorgeous in this determined and concentrative state. “Shit, fill me up with our child,” you punctuate your mewling request with the repetition of his name - you’re hitting your climax again but this one is about to utterly wreck you like never before. “Right now.”

Fives’ eyes clamp shut and the sweat on his brow is beginning to drop from his forehead to your bare chest with how he is hovered over you - your soft but commanding words has the most gargled and loud groan erupt from deep within his chest as he stills his hips

You can feel the way his cock pulsates so far inside of you - liquid warmth spitting from the head and no doubt seeping into your cervix

You’re both completely out of breath and totally fucked-out - you think that’s the most Fives has ever cum, and you’re just staring up at him with the sweetest smile you can muster in your exhausted state

“We can talk about it more later, but...” Fives rubs at his neck after hauling himself off of you - pulling you close to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso. 

“No need,” you say softly - your hands wrapping around his forearms. “I’ll have them remove the implant on my next visit.”

Your words of promise has Fives uncontrollably getting hard again

***

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#goth gf anon #god-tier thot ty non-non #fuck. I love him #he deserves a happy ending. jfc please give it to him #thots with M #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives smut #18+ #djarrex writes #fives x reader #arc trooper fives

[mello-jello]

Don't we all agree that Hange loves to play pranks on Levi? I'm pretty sure the most fucked up joke she made was when she pretended to sacrifice to save humanity and being burn alive? lord, Levi was so pissed off! It tooked like 3 years to finally forgive Hange and they finally living in a small cottage in the forest. How do I know this? Cause I'm their handmaid.

omg anon, how does one get that job? I will do it for free! I would PAY to have that job.

I realize Tumblr is collectively over the BBC Sherlock, but can you just imagine Hange with a stupid pencil drawn on moustache, trying and failing SO HARD to lighten the mood?

Maybe Hange needed to lay low? Maybe the Yeagerists has eyes on Levi, and making contact with him would have put him at risk?

oh no...

UhHHmm... hang on, I made this into a whole thing:

It’s midday and yet the sky is dark. Thick storm clouds circle above, threatening torrential downpour at any moment. The ceremony was good, all things considered. The 104th all gave short speeches about their beloved commander, which was nice. The priest was a little religious but kept the service pretty well non-secular, which is what Hange would have wanted.

Levi on the other hand, would have loved some sort of reassurance that this wasn’t the end. He would love to be able to believe in a heaven, where Hange is spending their time in complete bliss and will be there when it’s his time. He wants to believe there is any sort of omnipotent being in control of everything. He wishes he was capable of that kind of thinking.

And yet.

Everyone has left by now, and Levi’s not sure how he’d been standing there, staring at the freshly laid soil below a headstone. Fighting back tears, he speaks aloud, a last ditch effort to communicate with God or whatever. How does he know for sure Hange’s not listening anyway?

"Hange,” his voice catches as he had been clenching his jaw all day.

“I… I was so alone and I owe you so much. But please, there's just one more thing... one more thing, one more miracle, Hange, for me? Don't. Be. Dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it. Stop this..."

Levi felt silly. Talking out loud to the dead never appealed to him before, why would he start now? He dropped the bouquet of flowers he was gripping too tightly onto the grave and turned to leave, just as the rain started to pour.

---

Onyankopon, Gabi, and Falco can sense Levi’s depression. It stems from more than the loss of Hange, it comes from everything Levi has ever lost in his entire life. There is no need for Levi to fight anymore. No more distractions. The lack of distractions is what makes living on so difficult.

It’s been three years since that fateful day, and the trio wanted to do something on the anniversary to take Levi’s mind off of it, even if just for an evening. Levi was bitter and cold as usual, but he knew they were just trying to help, and he did appreciate it. So reluctantly, he agreed to a movie and dinner.

He never even needed to shave before, but Levi had grown quite an impressive moustache during this time. The kids seemed to like it, they said he looked distinguished. Levi figured it would also help get attention off his scars.

Gabi and Falco were particularly excited for the movie. It was a musical comedy, of all things. Levi surprised himself by actually kind of laughing at it. He enjoyed the caramelized popcorn, too. At dinner, the 4 of them sat around a fancy table and Levi listened wholeheartedly as the other 3 discussed the movie. At one point, Gabi had shot soda out of her nose from laughing too hard, and Falco was teasing her about it.

Levi was about to interject with a snide remark, when he was suddenly interrupted by a particularly terse waiter.

“Sir, I think, you’ll find this vintage to your liking”, they said in an accent Levi had never heard before, while shoving a bottle of wine in his face. Levi was pissed, as the bottle so rudely brought up unpleasant memories.

“Tch, no.” Levi said as politely as he could muster through his teeth.

“It ’as all the qualities of the old, with some of the colour of the new,” they said, as if purposefully ignoring him. Levi was actually having a good time tonight, why did this guy have to be so pushy?

Keeping his locked forward, Levi said again, “No, thank you.”

The waiter switched sides, now on Levi’s left, which had the eye he could see with. Onyankopon gave Levi a sympathetic look as the water continued, “Like a gaze from a crowd of strangers, suddenly one is aware they are staring into ze face of an old friend.”

“No, look seriously,” Levi finally breaks and looks up, “could you just-”

Levi’s face drops. His entire body jolts impossibly rigid, as he stares with an expression of utter disbelief.

Hange. Hange was the waiter. They dipped a napkin into a glass of water, and wiped off the fake mustache from their top lip. “Interesting thing, a tuxedo. Lends distinction to friends, and anonymity to waiters,” they said in their normal voice.

“Levi?” Gabi asks, and Levi is suddenly aware that he forgot to breathe. He forgot to blink too. He feared that if he moved in any way, Hange might disappear.

He turns his head to Onyankopon, then his eyes fill with tears and he ducks his head momentarily before he stumbles clumsily to his feet, shaking the table in the process. He looks at Hange again, who then extends their arms, as if expecting Levi to hug them.

“Hange?” Oyankopon questioned, incredulously.

Levi looked down at the table, breathing heavily before locking eyes with Hange again.

“Hey, does your rub off, too?” Hange gestured to Levi’s facial hair, to which he did not find funny. His gaze was slowly turning murderous.

Falco put his hand on Levi’s arm. “What-?”

“Well, long story short,” Hange explained, a little awkwardly. “I’m not dead.”

Hange stares into Levi’s eyes as they slowly realize that this was a bad idea. They start feeling guilty. “It was a bit mean, springing it on you like that, I know. I could have given you a heart attack, probably still will. But in my defence, it was very funny. Okay, it’s not a great defence-”

“I SAW YOU!” Onyankopon broke through their rambling.

“Oh, no-

“YOU DIED!”

“I just checked, and no, no I didn’t!”

Levi made a fist and pounded the table, nearly spilling all their drinks and drawing attention to them. Hange looked around nervously, but Levi did not care, although he whispered, “three years.”

“Okay, Levi, I’m suddenly realising I probably owe you some sort of an apology,”

Levi took another, deliberately deep breath and asked, “how?”

“Just… okay, one question! Let me ask one question,” Hange asked. They pointed to Levi’s moustache, “Are you really going to keep that?” They blurted out in laughter for all of 2 seconds before Levi launched at them. They both crashed to the floor, Levi on top of Hange, trying to throttle them.

#levihan #levihan drabble #i might have more ��� #i wrote this on break on a night shift so don't look at it too long okay #this is a wee bit angstier than i thought

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Hot-shot, Hot-head | Clint Barton

Hey lovelies! Here's another one for Dinner at Dizzy's! I actually really like this one. Clint Barton is super close to my heart. I remember watching the avengers for the first time when it first came out (and Thor before that) and just falling in love lol. Treat him well lovelies and please do enjoy.

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Angst (more so fluff)

Entres (Pairing): Clint Barton x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 7: “Teach me.”

Notes: None, requested by an anon

Word Count: 2.9k (lol I don't even have an excuse anymore)

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

“God damnit!” She hisses as the bow string snaps back against her fingers, the sting making her fumble the bow.

She catches it— like she always does— but not without another curse. She resists the urge to slam the hunk of metal against the grass, her muscles squeezing so tight she could scream. He makes it look so fucking easy. It’s not— it’s impossible. She wants her pistol back and glass of water. Water or wine. Same thing. Screw Barton and how ridiculously nimble he is— she thought she was supposed to be the agile one.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. She bites back a groan when she hears footsteps sound from behind her, rolling her eyes before spinning on the brunette, scowling at the gleeful squint of his bright blue eyes. He’s always so smug. In all of her years of knowing him that has never changed.

“Told you it’s not as simple as it looks.” He simpers, his smile so wide she wants to throw him to the ground right here, right now, and slap it off.

Slap, kiss— same thing.

“If you came out here to mock me, Barton, feel free to not.” She scrunches her nose— it’s the only thing she can do to keep the smile off her face.

Why does his grin always have to be so infectious? She wants to be annoyed still— she was annoyed before she turned around so why can’t she still be annoyed now? It’s infuriating and awful and so damn endearing. God, if she could go back to training and strangle Fury she honestly just might. What was he thinking, pairing her for fucking life with Clint Barton. She glances at the man and the smirk in his eyes and she presses her lips together.

He notices— of course he notices, they trained together, their reflexes are the same. It’s what makes them such good partners— they were created to be a team. Fucking Fury. Well, a team in one sense at least. The other not so much. She shoves the thought to the back of her head, finally letting the smile break out on her face.

“Someone has to, hot-shot.” He settles against the tree behind him, muscled arms crossing over his chest, puppy dog smile still just as wide.

God where the fuck is she supposed to look? There’s nowhere left— not the corded veins along his arms, not the golden skin peeking out of the collar of his t-shirt, not the the glint in his icy eyes that she can’t tell whether it’s from the sun or is just always there— she’s being attacked on all sides and all she has is this stupid bow— his stupid bow.

She drops her shoulders, rolling her eyes again and caving to his larkish voice— she always does. “I guess it’s fair. Shouldn’t rag on you so much for your terrible shot—”

“I don’t have a terrible—” He begins to protest, pushing from the tree and stepping closer to her.

She presses her fingers to his chest when he gets a few inches away, trying to keep her breathing in check. “With a pistol. Ten years later and he still interrupts. Good to know some things never change, hot-head.”

She beams up at him, palms flat against his broad chest, forcing herself to ignore the heat seeping from the thin material. It feels like at any moment he’s going to burn her, much too hot for his own good. Being this close to him she can smell his woodsy, citrus scent— like the damn sun— and she takes a step back. Co-workers. Partners. Best friends.

Nothing more.

“Ten years later and she still does everything in her power to make me interrupt. Terrible shot. Who taught you to fight so dirty, huh?” He peers down at her as he pushes past her, fingers flicking at her jaw, and she bites her tongue because it’s starting to feel like he’s asking her to say something she’ll regret.

“Uhm you? You did— weren’t you the one who kicked my knees in on the first day of training?”

He’s a good few feet in front of her now— stupid long legs— and she sucks in a breath of fresh air, her skin tingling as her body cycles him out of her blood. There’s no point, he’ll be back in a moment. He’s always back— always annoying and around and warm.

He glances back over his shoulder— “You mean right after you broke my nose, right darlin’?”

She lets her gaze flick to his nose and the faint bump on the ridge where she had jutted her palm into it all those years ago. The academy nurses are good— she can only see the blemish when she’s looking for it. Too bad her jab is better. It suits him at least— everything does.

“I did do that, didn’t I?” She hums, meeting him once more and standing on her tiptoes to get a better look. He leans down, staring at her from over the crook. “Maybe I was marking you Barton— I made ya’ pretty.”

He hands her the arrows, fingers clasping over her own for a moment, encasing her in that warmth again. “Couldn’t have found any other way, huh?”

She has to force herself to meet his banter, suddenly breathless and woozy, still wobbling on her tiptoes. “Thought you liked the violence— you did back then.”

He holds her gaze, fingers tightening so minutely that she’s sure if she were anyone else she wouldn’t have noticed. She wouldn’t notice how his eyes skim over her face before flicking over her head quickly, how his shoulders square defensively, how even when there’s no one around he’s always watching her back. But she isn’t anyone else— she’s her and she notices everything he does.

He meets her gaze again, muscles easing slightly, and her lungs scream at her because all she can taste is lemons and juniper.“Oh I love the violence.”

She tugs the arrows— and by default her hand— from his hold, searching desperately for an escape in the open air in front of her. The targets taunt her from across the field, the little pin prick holes in the middle of the red bullseye leering. She wants to throw the bow again— where the fuck is her gun?

“Why am I doing this again?” She groans and he laughs, his hand curling around her neck, thumb digging into the knots in her shoulder blade.

“‘Cause one day you won’t have bullets.” He supplies, voice too close to her ear for her to make much sense of the words. They’re like honey— too sweet, too slow.

Still she shrugs. “Won’t I have you, though? You planning on ditching me, Barton?”

Beyond the teasing she can hear the insecurity laced in her words and she wants to slap herself for potentially ruining the sunny afternoon. She can practically feel the switch in the atmosphere. The lighthearted banter fading into cold seriousness. She swallows, closing her eyes. Even after ten years she’s still terrified that one day she’s going to wake up and he won’t be in the kitchen pouring the sugar into her coffee and burning the toast. Joining the academy was her chance— at freedom, at family— and Clint was— is— the payoff of those hard years. She would be utterly lost if one day he just wasn’t there.

His hand stills, thumb still pressing into her skin, chest tensing where it just barely brushes her back. For a moment they just stand there, the only noise being the soft thud of the bow landing in the grass. A few seconds later the arrows join. She doesn’t drop them on purpose— she would never carelessly throw his things around— she just can’t feel her hands anymore. When she brings them together, wringing them together, she isn’t surprised to find them trembling. She can feel him start to shake his head, hair brushing against her temple before the words are even out of his mouth.

“Don’t even say that. Don’t. Or think about it. Ever again— you hear me? I thought I was the dumb one.” He tries to say it like a joke— she can hear him forcing his tone to stay light— but his voice is too gravelly, his words spiking too low.

She presses her lips together again, nodding. “Sorry—” she mumbles, pressing the heel of her palm to her forehead, sinking back slightly to knock her shoulder into his chest— “was just— just over thinking, I guess. Stressed myself out.”

He wraps his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her against his chest. She tips her head back, putting her weight on him. It’s not unusual— it would be more unusual if she didn’t cuddle into him. That’s why she does it despite how terribly she wants to pull away. She can’t stay in his citrus arms— in this fever dream. She needs to break the spell. Maybe spend some days in the woods soon, alone, resetting her brain. She’s had to do that a few times.

“Not going anywhere.” He mumbles, hands closing around her arms, his jaw— scratchy and rough from stubble— rubbing against her shoulder. “You know that. Not now, definitely not in a fuckin’ appocalypse—” she laughs at that and he rocks on his heels, letting out a soft hum— “We’re in this together. Where the hell would I even go?”

He whispers that last part, probably hoping she wouldn’t hear, but his mouth is right there and she’s tuned into everything him. She can hear the worry, feel the rumble against her back. Shit. They’re both spiraling now and she’ll be damned if she brings her down with him. She has to do something.

“Teach me.”

He freezes behind her, hands softening their grip. When he speaks his voice is a little tighter than normal— hesitant, maybe. “What was that, darlin’?”

She goes to pull out of his arms again, bending to retrieve the bow, but she only ends up pulling him with her, the giant man curling around her easily. Too easily. She clenches her jaw, fighting the sudden urge to whirl around and push him to the ground.

Push him to the ground and climb on top of him.

“Teach me how to use this stupid thing, Barton. Can’t do it— you were right.”

Apparently she doesn’t have whirl around— he does it for her, spinning her so quickly that the heavy metal almost whacks him. He pries it gently from her fingers, releasing it back onto the grass. She almost protests— what the hell was she so afraid of dropping it for when he practically just threw it? — but before she can he’s pulling her off her toes and spinning her around.

“Clint what are you doing—”

“Ten years— it’s taken ten years for you to say those words.” He laughs and she swats the nape of his neck, rolling her eyes, feet dangling off the ground. It’s all she can do to not curl them around his hips. “And you tell me my ego is big.”

She scrunches her nose at the man, eyes dipping over his crinkled eyes and triumphant smile, once again fighting the curve of her own lips. “You’ve been waiting for me to ask for help?”

He snorts, dropping her on her toes before slumping onto the grass, sprawling out on his back— clearly not about to actually do as she asked. “No— if you wanted to learn that badly you would have by now. You’re not stupid, just stubborn.”

Clint leans up, warm hand curling around her ankle and yanking, pulling her feet out from under her and sending her flying. Before she has time to scream— hell, to even think about screaming— his arm is hooking around her stomach, catching her midair and lowering her easily to his chest. Ten years and she’s still never ready for that. She goes to drive her elbow back against his ribs but he catches her, grabbing her arm and instead pulling her to rest across his stomach.

She grumbles but turns anyway, cheek pressing against hard, warm muscle, meeting his gaze from where his head rests on his folded arms. “Then what?”

He flashes her another toothy grin— that can’t be good. “Was waiting for you to tell me I was right about something. Took you long enough.”

She scowls. “Shut up, will you?”

“Awe, is someone angry that I won?” He teases, his voice warmer than the sunshine on the bits of her exposed face.

“Barton, I said shut up.”

His laugh is too easy. Too musical. It rumbles against the parts of her that are pressed against him and makes the rest of her ache, wanting to be pressed against him as well.

“Geez, someone’s touchy today.”

As if to enhance his point he runs a gentle finger over the top of her spine, right where her tank top stops, and she has to clench her jaw against the heat that pools in the pit of her stomach and the shiver that races down her back. It’s the final straw. Ten years is a lot of straws— maybe she’s a hoarder of said straws— but finally her last one has broken. She can’t take it anymore. She bolts upright.

“Shit—” he mutters lowly, probably not intending for it to reach her ears, before speaking louder— “c’mon darlin’ I was just messing with you—”

She swings her leg over his stomach, knees caging him underneath her, thighs spreading deliciously over his warm abdomen, and his mouth snaps shut. He’s up on his elbows, no doubt because he had been worried and was on his way up to check on her, but now it only serves to bring them closer together. For a moment all she does is look at him, chest heaving, palms pressed against his chest and anticipation laced in every muscle. Each breath he takes tortures her— what’s he thinking?

She’s never thought Clint Barton to be a mind reader but maybe anything is possible at this point because as soon as she thinks it his crystal eyes narrow, his pink lips quirking up. “Are you going to make the first move or do I have to?”

Butterflies erupt in her stomach— wait, no, that’s just her gut twisting as he flips her over so fast that she doesn’t have time to blink. Dammit he’s quick. She’s quick too, though, legs finally curling around his hips to keep her back from crashing against the ground. She doesn’t remember wrapping her arms around his shoulders but when her head stops spinning she can feel her fingers digging at his arms. Her back eases against the ground, one of his arms slipping under her head, his other hooking around her thigh and pressing her that much closer to him.

His nose bumps against hers, breath hot on her lips, and she doesn’t try to fight the smile this time. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

His lips brush against hers, just a wisp— a promise— of what’s to come, and she squeezes her thighs tighter, pulling a raspy groan from his mouth. “Gave you ten years, didn’t I?”

She hums, lips pressing against the corner of his mouth. “You did— what on earth is wrong with you Barton?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “You’re really something, you know that?”

She kisses the other corner, just barely brushing her mouth against his as she passes, reveling in the way his hips push her harder into the grass. “Someone’s touchy today—”

The rest of her words are cut off— they’re swallowed— by two warmer-than-sin lips. He tastes like candy. Like red licorice and lemon drops. That’s all it takes for her to kiss him back, hands slipping into his hair and yanking— maybe she should be gentler but she can’t help it. She’s been patient, she’s paid her dues. Besides, if the moan that rips from his lungs and passes over her tongue— all needy and wild and lemon tinted— is anything to go by then she would say he doesn’t mind it. His tongue slips into her mouth, caressing hers, and she returns his moan with one of her own.

“Why— he mumbles into her open mouth, pausing momentarily to tug her bottom lip between his teeth and groan— “why didn’t we do this earlier? Like—” his lips skim over her cheek, up to her ear, tugging on her earlobe next— “like ten-years-ago sooner?”

She turns her face towards him, following him as he moves down her neck, lips pressing against his cheek. She doesn’t want to detach from him now. She doesn’t think she’ll ever want to. Her mouth slants against him, teeth nipping at his jaw, and he hikes her higher up his body. Her fingers are still tangled in his silky hair, raking through the strands and trying to memorize the feeling.

“I don’t know.” she mumbles against him— she can’t bring herself to find a witty remark, she just wants more.

He pulls back, ducking his head, lips swollen and eyes sparkling. “That was passive of you, hot-shot.”

“Barton.”

For once he doesn’t need to be told twice, leaning back down, nose bumping against her with another brain melting chuckle. She arches up, impatient for his touch. Before his lips skim hers he says something else, though. It’s like he can’t help but annoy her every chance he gets.

“Maybe you’re the hot-head after all.”

#Clint Barton #hawkeye x y/n #hawkeye x reader #clint barton x y/n #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #clint barton fic #hawkeye fic #clint barton imagine #hawkeye imagine #clint barton fluff #clint barton angst #hawkeye fluff #hawkeye angst #mcu fic #mcu #marvel cinematic universe fic #marvel cinematic univers #Dinner at Dizzy's

[aaronstveit]

what are your favorite pynch quotes?

hi anon!!! sorry for taking like 30 years to answer this ask!!!! there are quite a few that make me scream so this list could theoretically get quite long..... gonna put it beneath a read more !!!

The choice was death or hurting Adam, which wasn't much of a choice at all. (absolute 100% favorite, i had to stop reading the first time i encountered this line because my god)

Adam seized Ronan’s neck, fingers hooked in his skin. Ronan could not kill him, no matter how much Orphan Girl begged. It was Adam. (this line from ronan's dream in the dream thieves paralleled directly against that scene in the raven king. scream!!!!!)

"I'm always straight." / "Oh man, that's the biggest lie you've ever told."

obviously the entire "The ocean burned." thing.... wow

They hugged again, merrily, waltzing messily in the kitchen, and kissed, merrily, waltzing more.

The scent of Cabeswater, all trees after rain, drifted past Adam, and he realized that while he'd been looking at Ronan, Ronan had been looking at him.

"Well," Ronan said, sounding nasty and unhappy. "Here we go, cowboy." (COWBOY?????)

They were both hungry animals, but Adam had been starving for longer.

"Forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit," Ronan said into Adam's hearing ear, and Adam's body sagged against Ronan, chest heaving. His hands still jerked and strained to violence. He gasped, "You asshole," but Ronan could hear how near tears he was.

"I'm coming back. Be here for me."

Adam lived in an apartment located above the office of St. Agnes Catholic Church, a fortuitous combination that focused most of the objects of Ronan's worship into one downtown block.

Making Ronan Lynch smile felt as charged as making a bargain with Cabeswater. These weren't forces to play with.

Adam. Ronan missed him like a lung. (no seriously what the FUCK)

Adam looked up at Ronan. "I know it was you," he said. "I figured it out. The rent." He held Ronan’s gaze for just a moment longer, until something inside Ronan unwound and he almost said something. (adam ending ronan's internalized homophobia just one short book after bullying him in the helicopter... so true besties)

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Ronan was looking at him, as he had been looking at him for months. Adam looked back, as he had been looking back for months.

He was trying to reach Ronan Lynch, but it was like a phone that kept ringing and ringing. This was a dangerous game, but he kept trying.

Without looking up from the phone, Adam asked, "How does that feel, Lynch? Does the mirror look different than you expected?"

"And here was Ronan, like a heart attack that never stopped." (adam parrish literally said this out loud. what the HELL.)

Ronan's second secret was Adam Parrish.

"Miseria fortes viros, Ronan," Adam said. When he said "Ronan," it meant: Ronan. (SCREAM)

As Gansey shut the door behind him, he heard Adam say, "I don't want to talk," and Ronan reply, "The fuck would I talk about?"

also I can't think of the exact quote right now but that bit in mister impossible with the gloves and the boots and like "Adam wasn't just dating Ronan, he was living in his life with him" or something???? broooo that got me

anyway i'm gonna end this list now before i end up spending my entire day quoting every pynch line in the two series fjdksljfklds. thank you for the ask lovely anon!!!! hope you're doing well and staying safe 💛✨

#thank you!!!! #pynch #trc #answered #anonymous #love letters only💛 #lit #birdverse #the raven cycle #the dreamer trilogy #otp: the ocean burned #the added knowledge that this anon was coco is too much for me. goodnight

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ PLEGARIAS ❜

Songfic with ‘Plegarias’ by Nicki Nicole.

English lyrics.

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hey love!😻 You're Creeper request inspire me! So can u write something where Creeper & Reader breaks up when Creeper was transfered to Santo Padre. And when Santo Padre go to Stockton years later, Creeper discovers that even when they breaks up, Reader continue to help the club. And then, they go back together? Just fluff,fluff,fluff,love and again fluff 😍😍😍

BY ANON

Warnings: slight mention of depression, angst and fluff.

Word count: About 1.8k

Aurora says: thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford for her opinion and for helping me! ✨

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

Te encontré plasmado, culpable, deteriorado. Nunca tan amable.

Your eyes traveled from the leather kutte over the bed, to your boyfriend. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, with his head bowed forward and both hands intertwined on his nape. The patches that used to decorate it, now were cutted off, and the new ones were perfectly sewn. You knew exactly what that meant. He just shitted on six years of relationship. You were fourteen when you met him, skipping out of highschool because you were having a bad day and he just made it better, without knowing you. You didn't say anything when you noticed the suitcase behind him, raising his dark and reddened eyes towards you.

Llorando en las iglesias, rogándole a Dios que tenga paciencia, que no se olvide de vos.

He didn't ask you to come with him, because you had a life in Stockton. Your family, your friends, your work, your college. He knew pretty well that you would follow him to the end of times, but he couldn't ask you to fall into hell, just because of him. So Creeper left you there with a pain squeezing your heart that you keep feeling today.

¿Quién mató tu inocencia hoy? Dime dónde está el asesino del cuento.

The first months without knowing anything about him, all that you did was pray. Pray for him like you had never done before. Oscar wasn't allowed to tell you anything else more that he was alive, and that he was close to the Mexicali border. They knew you were suffering, but Creeper asked them to let you continue with your life. But how you could, if he was your life?

Yo voy buscando el final. La historia de hoy, yo te la cuento.

You had to deal with, what doctors called, ‘depression’. But the truth was that every time you closed your eyes, you used to find him smiling at you, telling you how much he loved you. You decided to not sleep, or avoid it as much time possible, so you used to spend the day in bed. Tired, sad, unhappy, feeling miserable.

Until you started to fight, when you understood that he wasn't coming back. You understood why he did what he did, that he just wanted the best for you. And have a life with a wannabe gangster, it wasn't. With Mayans in Stockton, Creeper only took care of simple business, but his new ‘job’ was high-level, dangerous and risky. He couldn't ask you to stay by his side. His love was stronger than drowning you into that shit.

Si voy, calor infernal. Desencuentro fatal. Que ya no te veo…

But you used to tell him: ‘I prefer to die for love, than to die for hate’.

You stopped dreaming with him, even if you kept your promise of praying every night for his soul. Praying to God to not forget him.

Si estás, empieza a gritar. Comienzo a pensar, que ya no te siento.

The pain was disappearing one bite at a time, until you decided to only keep the good things, the good memories of your history. Oscar began to see that you continued coming to the clubhouse, asking less for Creeper, but asking more for the crew. You practically grew up with them, and who was your first love wasn't going to take that away from you too. So the president let you help them with basic stuff; working at the parties, doing the groceries, cooking for them… They considered you like their mom, even if you were much younger than them. You were part of their family, another Mayan morr.

Ay, ay, me duele muy dentro del corazón.

But the pain that you thought you had conquered, was only hidden. And you know that by finding him with his brothers, drinking some beers in the front yard of your club. It's been five years since he left you and, even if you're a woman and not a child anymore, you understand that you are still in love with him, like eleven years ago when you met. Parking your car inside the garage, you step out from it in complete silence, with a box of Jose Cuervo between your arms. Oscar walks towards you, hoping that he has the chance to explain what's going on, but you just smile at him to let him know that everything is okay. You can deal with it.

“They will stay for a couple hours”. He said anyway.

“They're Mayans, I ge—”.

“You are too. Never forget it”.

Nodding in silence, you follow him into the inside, passing them away without saying a single word, until being greeted by your charter with hugs and kisses.

A Dios le rezo, y caigo en los tiempos. Ya no me importa perderme muy dentro.

“Hey, baby girl, Oscar is calling you to the table”.

Medina makes you frown confused. It's the first time in your life that you enter in that Templo while Mayans are reunited. Unless you're bringing them beers. Opening the glass door, you step in. Silence, just a bunch of dark eyes over you, walking with firm steps to the president of your charter. Moving the empty chair by his right side, he urges you to sit down. And you do, with your gaze fixed on his.

“You told me once that you would like to prospect”.

“I did”. You say, curling a leg against your chest, and placing your arm about it.

“In Santo Padre need a new prospect”.

Your orbs travel to the other president, Bishop Losa. Rey de los Mayas. By the look on his face, you know that they're hiding something from your charter, from Oscar. Twisting your neck, you try to figure it out, until he clears his throat because you're making him feel uncomfortable.

“Could you live without me?” Slowly, so slowly, you turn your face to El Oso.

“It's just eight hours away from here, chamaca”.

Te tengo en mi mente todo el tiempo. Todo el tiempo estallo por dentro.

“What are you doing?”

As soon as Stockton charter leaves the Templo, you don't care about the presence of your new family, but Creeper in front of you. He has changed. At least, his look. Wherever you try to find a blank space on his skin, there's another tattoo. Shaved head, black marks under his eyes. The ones that used to shine every day and now look dead.

“Maybe we sh—”. Bishop starts to say, getting up from his chair.

“Sit the fuck down, presidente”. No one is going to fuck with you. Not anymore. “The hell are you playing, Neron?”

“It wasn't our moment”.

Your eyelids widen, with both eyebrows raised up.

“Taking you with me five years ago, it would suppose you were dead today”.

“You didn't have to take me with you, but keep calling, keep texting. You are the one who is dead today”.

“I never stopped loving you”.

“Seriously, gu—”.

“Next time you interrupt us, Mayans gonna have a mute president”. Pointing at Bishop, you give Creeper back your attention. “You destroyed my life. You abandoned me without giving a shit. For what?”

“I paid you for your business here all these years. Your studies, your apartment. And I bought you your bike”.

“No. No, no, no. Mayans did. Oscar. Did”. You reply laughing with a bitter feeling stuck in your throat.

“I have called Oscar every day”.

Y mi corazón se encuentra fatal, que tú ya no me quieres. Esta mierda me va a matar. Que voy por el mundo vacía, pensando en sanar esta herida.

When the men leave the Templo, and Creeper sits in a chair closer to yours, you can't help but break into tears. All the pain that you were fighting against, now is back, seeing how one of his hands hold your right. Feel his touch again, with his fingers getting tangled with yours, is killing you. You can't even look at him. Your gaze is blurred, because of the tears piling up inside your eyes.

“Ain't gonna say that 'am sorry, cause that's bullshit. I just wanted to protect you, but I didn't know that I was pushing you to an emptiness, that was about to end up with your life”. He mutters, trying to keep a firm tone of voice, even if it breaks sometimes. “I tried to do the best for you, without knowing that the best for you is be by my side”.

“Wh—Why now?” You finally ask, licking your bottom lip, raising your head towards him.

“One month ago, in an Arizona run, I was about to die. I was… feeling how I was leaving this world, and I promised to God that if he gave me a second chance… I would come for you”.

Taking off his kutte, the half mexican lifts up his shirt. On his skin there are more tattoos than you can count, but even if you want to focus on the sewn bullet hole over his heart, your attention is on a phrase close to it. “I prefer to die for love, than die for hate”. Under it, your name and the day date you met.

“I have never stopped loving you, (Y/N)”.

Yo voy del infierno al Sol, que vuelvo por ti y sino no lo intento. Búscame, no digas adiós, que solo por ti a Dios le rezo.

His arms surround you, forcing you to sit on his lap as you used to spend the hours. Curling against his chest, Creeper holds you tightly, feeling that warm wrapping your body that begins to melt the cold ice that has your heart captive. Your cry gets loud, sinking your face under his chin. All this time you were hating him for abandoning you, he was just hiding in the shadows, watching over you. His scent floods your lungs, closing your eyes and trying to calm yourself. Your fingers get tangled in his shirt, when his lips kiss your forehead so dearly that make disappear all the sadness that was oppressing your chest. He will always have that power in you, as you have in him.

“I love you”. He mutters, feeling how his breath becomes somewhat shaky about to cry too. “Please, come with me”.

Resting his cheek on your head, you cling to his arms, surrounding them with yours the stronger as you can. You don't want him to leave you again. Not a second time.

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[katsukikitten]

Once upon a time

A/N welcome to day three (almost day four. Nothing like procrastinating) of Kitten's valentines day event. Here is a request by anon for a cinderella au with those horrid red crocs. I tried blending seriousness with a touch of comedy (God knows I specialise in angst) hopefully it comes off well. Bone apple teeth.

The ball to find your prince was tonight. A long awaited night as you brush your hair staring into the vanity. Lips and cheeks painted with light pinks with a blush dress to match. The dress acting as a preview for what is to come, a mock wedding dress if you will. Elegantly and obnoxiously long train, paired with the classic princess ball gown that flairs at your waist.

Heart pounding in your chest you stand waiting in your glass slippers, hair braided and pinned half up and half down to frame your face as it trundles down to your delicate shoulders.

"And now for our lady of the night, Princess Y/N!" A quick gulp before you step through the opening doors, smiling brightly at the throngs of men who have attended all wearing masks of blinding colors in hopes to be seen.

To be remembered.

Your night is spent mostly whisked around in nauseating circles handed off from man to man. You go from two toned hair, to a blabbering bright blonde, passed off to a jaded eyed man before you're head is spinning.

The jade eyed man is, how can you put it nicely?

Well you can't he's boring. An utterly ball of nerves boring. His hands are slick with sweat and he can barely hold eye contact to save his life as he says sorry every step of the dance despite not making a single error.

"May I?" A smooth voice inturrpts the emerald eyes apologies. You drink in the handsome man in stunning deep red that makes his gem eyes pop. Finaly excited for the first time tonight.

"Y...you may." He stammers passing your hand to a calloused hard working hand. A feeling you are unused to as most of the other men's hands were smooth. His other hand finds the small of your back as he sweeps you into a pleasantly slow paced dance.

"Your name my dear?" The first you've asked for this whole night. He smiles a sharp toothed smile as his velvet voice caresses your before agitated nerves.

"Ejirou." A shiver runs down your spine as you fixate on this stunning broad shouldered man.

Another turn before you notice that he has swept the two of you onto one of the many balconies just off of the hall.

"Ah look at the moon over head Eijirou!" He hates to admit that he loves the sound of his name on your lips. He bites his own trying and failing to remind himself that he does not truly belong here.

But a night with a beautiful princess is all he ever wished for.

You brace yourself agaisnt the railing as you stare into the face of your favorite celestial body. All the while ruby eyes watch your dainty form.

"Isn't it beautiful?" You sigh melting as you swoon over your first love. Eijirou places his hand on the balcony around you, pressing his hip to yours.

"No where near as beautiful as you." He breaths, leaning down to kiss feather soft lips. Rough hand pulling a slender waist impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss.

Bells chime overhead causing him to gasp out.

"Its midnight." He sounds panicked as he tries to take a step back. Eyes frantically looking for the exit.

"Why yes," You blink confused, hand clutching his blood red lapel, "But the party is until sunrise."

"I've got to go. Now. I'm sorry." He says as he rushes away while you're right on his heels.

Although he is much faster and much more hardy than you. You stop to catch your breath as he rushes down the endless stairs in front of the castle.

"Eijirou how will I find you?" He stops short at your request turning ever so slightly, disappointment and sadness well in his eyes as he answers.

"You can't." Another chime rings out sending him into a full on sprint as one of his blood red dress shoes fall wayward on the long stair case. You rush to clutch onto the shoe another chime rings out and by some magic the deep crimson dress shoe distorts into something horrifyingly grotesque.

A birght red slipper with holes and a band that would sit atop the heel or the top of the foot depending if one wanted it to be in "sport" mode or not.

You scrunch your nose especially after seeing little charms of different shapes and sizes ranging anywhere from a fire truck to the classic cartoon meat bone.

"What the fuck?" You murmur to yourself as you look over the odd shoe, debating if it would be worth it to attempt to find the handsome man with terrible taste in footwear.

A flash of ruby red burns hot in your memory as you stand calling off the rest of the ball to summon your best scouts.

"We will go over the entire land to see who fits this shoe!"

True to your word you spend countless weeks that bleed into months exhausting all resources to find your prince charming.

Men across the nation line up outside of their homes in hopes of fitting the red shoe. Some men spy the shoe and turn inside, while others step out in a clearly immitated bright red holed filled slipper.

Still your search is fruitless as you begin to run out of both men and houses to check. You stand in front of your last house for the day as two men rush from the door as a window shutter is slammed shut overhead.

"Princess!" They sing song in unison, "We brothers are the owner of the shoe!"

Your eyes rove over a bright blonde male and a short purple haired boy whose eyes pop from their sockets as they stare at your form. Even as you're wearing pants.

"Hmmm, my prince to be had red hair." You state, "Men we are mistaken let us leave at once."

"W..wait your highness, you have not even tried to place it on our feet yet! At least give us that much." They beg as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Fine." With a snap of your fingers the horrific item is presented to you atop a velvet black pillow. You grab onto the item and place it to where a foot can be slipped in.

The blonde tries first, his toes poking out through some of the holes, popping out a fire truck charm as he attempts to shove his foot in.

Immediately you withdraw to present the shoe to the small boy. His foot barely fills the slipper causing a great sigh to leave your lips.

Tears threaten to spill over as you think that you may never find your one true love. You place the slipper back onto its pillow before you begin to climb the stairs to your carriage.

"Princess wait!" That velvet voice you had grown to love shouts as your frantically look for the source. He comes out in tattered clothes, soap suds clinging to his elbows as stains litter the cloth.

All the while the other two men are dressed in finary that could rival your own.

You look down to see he is wearing what must be the other slipper. As more of those ghastly charms twinkle in the dying light of the sun.

"Ah this is just our step brother. Please pay him no mind." The blonde says before elbowing him harshly, "Get back into the house you idiot!"

He clutches the scrub brush in his hands, ruby eyes glancing between you and his evil step brothers. He turns on his heel only for you to shout, fearing you may lose the man of your dreams again.

"No, he will be sized by the shoe. Should it fit he is mine to wed." The slipper is brought back to you once more, delicate hands wrap around the bright material as the red head presents his foot to you.

The God awful footwear fits and tears of joy stream down your face.

"E...Eijirou is it really you?" He nods shyly, embarrassed that he is in essentially a potato sack compared to what he wore the night he met you.

It was all with the help of an angry godfather who loomed in the courtyard the night of your ball.

"So you're just gonna let these assholes tell you you can't go?!" The Godfather had yelled, fingers popping with magic.

"Don't be a bitch." He bites out, turning a rotting carcass into a stunning white horse, "You're going and that's final."

Popping hands burning through Eijirou's tattered rags. Just a Phoenix something new rises from the ash. A beautifully tailored suit adorned with a bright red mask glimmering in the night like sparkling rubies.

"But you have until midnight to get the hell out of there." The GodFather snarls, "What are you waiting for a fucking invitation? Go kiss the damn girl! Just remember I said midnight and don't fuck this up."

He had left after that in an oversized explosion leaving nothing behind but the smell of sweet burning caramel.

Eijirou silently thanked the Godfather as he spun his princess around, cheeks burning from smiling so hard and feet sheathed in firetruck red crocs.

And they lived happily ever after.

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[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Four

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Three

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Mentions of drug abuse, Explicit sexual situations

A/N: To the anon that asked about the pictures before chapters, I gave it a shot. Let me know what you guys think. Cintia Dicker is who I've always imagined as Viv (only difference is Viv has green eyes and Cintia has blue). Have a good night guys!!

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"...We're about to go on in a couple minutes, we're already late." Duff tells me, frustrated, after explaining everything he, Izzy, Axl, Slash, and Steven have endured ever since they left L.A. to embark on their first little tour as a band, along the west coast.

The first stop was his home town, and everything from losing equipment, losing their only form of transportation, hitch hiking in suffocating heat, spending all the money shared between them for a ride, and anything else that could go wrong, happened all under 24 hours.

After getting the full run down on what all had happened once they got back home, I decided the devil works hard, but Guns N' Roses work harder.

"Well, I wish I could have gone but I'm trying to get Nikki to acknowledge Vince before they start touring." I tell him, scrubbing at a soapy dish, the kitchen phone caught between my ear and my shoulder.

"Still?"

"He offered Vince blow the other day, after Vince just got out of jail, and is supposed to be sober. It wasn't blow. It was smack." I explain.

"Oh my God, that's fucked." Duff tells me.

"Him and Tommy thought it was the funniest thing ever so I replaced all their blow with unscented baby powder and flushed the real thing." I explain and he laughs. "They've been wondering why their blow is 'broken'."

"Now, is that what Jesus would do?" He asks jokingly.

"God gave me the idea. I did it. I am a good and faithful servant." I state and he laughs again.

"Oh, I gotta go, Viv." He tells me.

"Alright, good luck." I say, hearing Steven say "Hey, Viv!"

"Steven says 'hey'." Duff lets me know and I smile to myself.

"Tell him I said, 'hey'."

"I will. I'll talk to you again whenever I can." He assures me. "Love you."

"Love you, too."

"Bye."

"Bye-bye."

We both hang up and I rinse the dish I've been working on and place it in the dish wrack.

Glancing at the clock to see it's 8:00pm, Nikki should be back from the studio soon.

I finish up on the dishes and go take a shower since I've been stress cleaning and sweating a little.

By the time I get out and get lounging clothes on, Nikki and Tommy are in the kitchen talking, and go silent when I come in

"Hey, babe." Nikki tells me innocently, he and Tommy exchanging mischevious looks.

"What?" I ask them, glancing between the two of them.

"So...I was thinking..." Nikki starts. "...You know how you told me not to buy the vette last year, right? Because it only had two seats and we might have kids down the line and it's not really a family car."

"Yeah." I reply, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Well, because I'm a responsible husband and a happy wife equals a happy life, I made an investment." He tells me and I cross my arms.

"What kind of investment, Mr. Sixx?" I roll my jaw.

"Well..." Nikki trails off, and I'm darting for the front door before he or Tommy can grab me.

I swing the front door open to see a brand new jeep in the driveway.

"Nikki Sixx!" I spin around and he and Tommy wince a little. "You bought a car?! Another one?!"

"The vette's are the town cars, baby, the jeep is for more practical use."

"Like the motorcycle in our garage is for 'nights out with the guys'?"

"Exactly!" Tommy pipes in.

In a matter of seconds, I'm chasing Nikki back into the house.

"I'm going to kill you!" I threaten him.

"Tommy, grab her!" Nikki laughs out, which only makes me even more upset that my frustration is amusing to him.

Tommy misses me buy a few seconds before I'm jumping over the couch and tackling Nikki, straddling him and pinning him by his forearms.

"We don't have the money for a new car, Nikki!" I tell him, seriously.

"The album releases in two weeks, Viv. We've got more money than you think." He chuckles, assuring me, and I let out a breath as his eyes drift over my body, raising a brow at our position. "But I can pretend we're dirt broke if you promise to keep man handling me."

"Do I need to get you guys the video camera and leave you to it?" Tommy reminds us he's still here.

"Yeah, it's about time to add Volume Three to the collection, anyway." Nikki states, the corner of his mouth pulling up in his signature smirk.

Before your imagination runs wild, none of our sex tapes are still in existence. When Tommy and Vince's got out, I knew damn well I wasn't about to be best known for a sex tape(s)...

So they were all run over in the driveway and lit on fire.

"Speaking of the release," Nikki starts, nudging at me. "Our anniversary's the next week, but what're you wanting to do for a anniversary present���"

"—Your anniversary present is in the garage. And the driveway. And require insurance. And gas. And maintenance." I correct him and he rolls his eyes.

"I meant your present." He tells me. "What do think you might want?"

"I don't know." I shrug, then I remember what day our anniversary falls on, and slowly look at Nikki, my lips pulling into a smug smile.

I'm still not sorry for what I asked for, for our anniversary. But you know what? Hungover, slightly doped up from the night before, and exhausted, my trooper of a husband got himself together long enough to endure his own personal hell.

Nikki glares at me from behind his sunglasses as the preacher leads us into prayer and I nudge him with my elbow a little so he'll at least bow his head and pretend to care.

"Father in Heaven we pray, forgive us of our sins, Lord. God, we ask that you bless this message and prepare the hearts of those that need to hear it. I pray that you continue to watch over us, keep your hand upon us, and help us to be better. In Jesus' name I pray, amen."

"Amen." We all say, and Nikki scoffs out a mocking little snicker, making me elbow him and he raises his brows.

His smug look immediately falls.

I can't see his eyes but I know he's saying, "elbow me again and see what happens."

"If you turn in your Bibles to the book of Hosea, chapter three, verse one..." Brother Harting starts, and I take pick my jacket up from my lap to get my Bible from underneath it.

I flip to Hosea 3:1, and read along in my mind as he reads aloud:

"Then the Lord said unto me, Go yet, love a woman beloved of her friend, yet an adulteress, according to the love of the Lord toward the children of Israel, who look to other gods, and love flagons of wine." He says, before looking up from the book. "To put it simply, for those of you not quite sure what that means, God is telling Hosea to marry a prostitute. The children of Israel at this time were beginning to stray from God and worship other gods and idols. They were not faithful to God. Like Gomer, Hosea's wife. I'm sure when he married her, he hoped she would stop selling herself and giving herself to other people." He explains. "Isn't it strange that so many of us assume marriage, or a child, will keep their significant other from giving parts of themselves to other people and other things when they were selling themselves to someone or something long before you even came along?" He chuckles out and I rub my lips together, a chord being struck within me. "God told Hosea to marry Gomer, and he did. But she didn't stay faithful. In fact, Hosea had to repeatedly go find her with other men and bring her back home. Now, God didn't tell Hosea to marry a woman that seemed like she could not, for the life of her, stay committed in the right path, to hurt him. God wanted to demonstrate how Israel was repeatedly unfaithful towards him. How we are all unfaithful to him at times, even when we don't realize it. Some of us even worship idols, and don't realize it. Obsession over money. Obsession over lust. Obsession over alcohol. If you are a workaholic..." He names a few examples.

"Cute, can we go now?" Nikki's grumbling under his breath to me and I don't even look at him, lacing my fingers through his, hoping to keep him quite like giving a baby a pacifier.

"I'm not saying wanting money, or having a drink with your dinner, or enjoying your work or really enjoying sex, is idolatry. It is when those things become addictive habits that consume your thoughts constantly, so much so, that you wake up one day and realize you haven't even acknowledged God in weeks. Some of us, months. For others, it's years. And when I say 'acknowledge God' I don't mean a little 'thank God' when something goes your way. I mean, getting in that comfortable space we all have when we can humbly approach God with all of our worries, concerns, hopes, dreams, and tell him about everything going on in our lives. When we take the time to talk to him like we would a friend. God wants to hear everything from us, whether it's something good that's happened, or something we need him to heal within us or help us with something we are struggling to do. He is never too busy." He smiles. "Hosea constantly chased and went after Gomer because he loved her. He made vows to God to marry her and he grew to love her. God loved the children of Israel, and he loves us. He used Hosea as a demonstration of how he always pursues and goes after his church when each of us stray, and let me tell you something, ladies and gentlemen, when Gomer got herself into a mess for the last time, she was about to be sold, like cattle. And Hosea went looking for her thinking she was up to her typical no good. But he came up on the auction she was being sold at. Keep in mind this woman had put him through years of hurt, and pain. He was exhausted, he was angry, he was broken...but he saw his wife about to be sold to men who would most definitely put her through hell, and Hosea suddenly couldn't see his wife's wrong doings. He just saw the woman he loved, the mother of his children, scared and in trouble. And he threw his hand up, and placed a bid for thirty pieces of silver on this woman. Six months worth of wages on a woman that seemed to do everything in her power to not be faithful to him."

"I think fucking not." Nikki doesn't even try to be quiet, causing a few people in front of us to quickly glance back at us.

I elbow him, harder this time, and he's grabbing at my wrist, harshly, pulling me to my feet.

Anger and frustration goes through me when he leads me through the double doors of the very small lobby.

"You're being a jackass." I hiss out the second he's pushed me into the ladies' room that consists of one toilet and a small sink.

"You're being a brat. You should be happy I even came to this bullshit." He snaps.

"One time isn't gonna kill you, Nikki. I'm surprised you're actually able to walk into a church and not burst into flames."

"Okay, fuck you!" He raises his voice and my hand is popping him in the chest before I can stop myself, "Shh!" flying past my lips.

His teeth grind together, and my thighs tense.

His hand is grabbing a fist full of my red locks, yanking my head back as he looks me in the eyes.

It's a slap in the face to him, but I can't help but let out a mocking chuckle, smiling up at him.

I completely disregard the fact we're in church, and my hands slide under his shirt, feeling his warm skin, my nails scratching down his sides.

He's letting go of my hair, reaching between us, and unbuckling his belt and tugging it out of his belt loops.

I squeeze my thighs together as anticipation starts building within my core, creating a slip between my thighs.

He's grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face the wall, shoving me forward.

My hands brace on the chipped, faint yellow paint, and he's yanking my hips back and spreading my legs while yanking my dress up and my panties down to rest around my ankles.

He gives me a moment of mercy, his hand reaching around to rub my clit while his leather restrained prick grinds against my ass, causing me to let out a quiet moan to avoid being heard.

Just as I start moving with his fingers, he pulls away.

"Bad girls don't get rewarded." He tells me smartly in my ear before I'm feeling heat radiate through my body after the sharp sting of leather hits my skin.

I take in a breath, arching my back, biting back another moan. 

By the time he's finished with lick number ten, my ass is bright red and aching, and there's a mess of wetness rolling down my legs and dripping on the floor.

I hear his belt hit the floor and he unties the laces of his pants, causing me to hum with excitement as he reaches for my hair again and turns me around to pull me to my knees.

I lick my lips as my mouth begins to water at the sight of engorged veins, aching for release as he strokes himself a couple of times, his precum beading out of his tip.

I open my mouth and stick my tongue out eagerly, looking up at him with begging, green eyes, wanting to taste him.

He looks down at me with a little grin, like he's proud he's been able to screw the submission into his innocent little "my body's a temple" Saint Vivian and corrupt her in every way that she would allow.

He gives me what I want, swiping the tip of himself across my tongue. I don't think he's expected me to wrap my tongue and lips around him just yet because when I do, he's gripping onto the side of the sink with white knuckles.

I hungrily swallow down the liquid leaking from him, thriving under his praise as he says:

"God, you're so fuckin' hot."

I press teasing kisses to his tip, down the underside of his shaft, and his balls, and he damn near collapses when I run my tongue over them before tracing my tongue back up him and taking him in my mouth.

He grabs at my hair, creating a punishing pace that's got tears running from the corners of my eyes with each thrust that has him brushing against the back of my throat.

When he finally lets me catch my breath, a line of my spit holds from my lips to his cock, so I catch it with my fingers and use it to keep jerking him off.

My pussy is beginning to throb, needing something, anything to relieve the pressure.

The fingers of my free hand fall to my clit, but it isn't quite enough.

I believe I take "bitch in heat" to a whole other level when I pull my dress up and strategically arch my back and rest my legs on either side of Nikki's right foot.

He looks at me, a little confused before I spread my thighs a little more, causing my clit to rest against the curve of Nikki's boot where his ankle meets his leg.

My eyes roll back as I begin to move back and forth, slowly against him, while still keeping my hand moving up and down on his dick.

I don't open my eyes until I feel him lift the toe of his shoe a little bit, angling the part I'm straddling to rest against my soaked sex perfectly.

My eyes stare up at him, the nails of my free hand bite into the back of his lower thigh as I use him for leverage while beginning to move feverishly against him.

He takes over on himself, allowing me to hold onto his leg with both hands as he watches me like I'm the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

Tears stream down my face as my orgasm builds, the only thing able to come out of my mouth is "Oh, fuck" and "Nikki" in the form of breathy whimpers.

When I come, my eyes screw shut, my body shutters and I completely soak Nikki's boot.

"Face, mouth, or tits?" Nikki asks me in regards to where I want his cum.

I swallow every last drop.

After making sure my crucifix wasn't crooked, my floral Sunday dress and matching heels were perfectly put back on and my hair looked like it had never been touched, Nikki and I pretended we hadn't had a little anniversary gathering in the bathroom and returned to service in time to hear that last tid bit.

In which Nikki was pissed about having to sit through, but I suppose he did anyway without any more complaints because he knew it was important to me.

"Hosea bought his wife back, like Christ bought all of us with his bloodshed on the cross. That being said, let's throw out the idea that God only chases after perfect Christians and everyone else is no good and going to hell anyway so it's the perfect Christians' job to tell everyone else they're going to burn forever." Harting states as Nikki and I slip back inside, and I scoff, thinking of my mother. "We are all sinners, people. I've known Christians that condemn just about everyone and then go home and do the equivelant of what they were condemning others for. You can't tell homosexuals they are going to hell and there is no hope for them, and then go out and have sex outside of marriage. Or say tattoos are a show of paganism and a sin and then go home and call up your friends to gossip about other people. You don't get to decide what is and isn't a sin to better suit your lifestyle. And just because someone isn't like you or doesn't think like you, does not mean they are any less worthy of God's love and a lot of Christians need to be careful who they damn to hell because God doesn't think like human's do. Our bodies, our flesh, and our mind's are imperfect and I'm affraid many of these holier-than-thou types are going to be shocked when they end up in a place they don't want to be when they die because they spent too much time alive being too hateful and worried about how other people are living, they never looked at themselves and worked on their own relationship with God and their salvation before minding other people's. Any born again Christian who truly has God in their hearts should never, ever, feel comfortable telling someone else they are going to hell. We can disagree with someone's choices and decisions or relationships and friendships or addictions and habits or view points and opinions, and love them. And respect them. And be kind to them. And treat them like human beings and if you're worried for someone's soul, pray for them as much as you want. We are here to love and uplift others. That is the way we as Christians are meant to be because that is the way God is with us. We do things all the time he doesn't like. But he loves us enough to continously chase after us and bring us back to him, and never give up on us. And that love is open to anyone willing to accept it."

He closes out his sermon and we sing one last hymn before closing out in prayer, and head back to the car.

"Well?" I ask him and he takes his sunglasses off and rubs his eyes.

"I don't know what was more adorable: seeing you all enthused over someone that doesn't exist, or seeing you have my dick in your throat during church." He pipes, laughing. "Oh, that would be cool game to play. I could be the Pervy Priest and you could be the Naughty Nun." He suggest, his hand squeezing at my thigh in a tickling motion and I squeal, fighting to get him to stop tickling me and he finally stops."It was a good message, though. He had a very nice way of saying, 'just mind your own fucking business, cunt face'."

"Shh, Nikki!" I cringe at him saying 'cunt' in the parkinglot of a church.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to swear in the Lord's driveway." He sarcastically apologizes and I shake my head a little and crank the car.

Later that night, Nikki heads to Robbin's place to score some smack and blow from his dealer, before we go out to dinner, and I'm stopping by to see Duff and the guys at their rehearsal.

The clicks of my heels sound against the bare concrete where stained up carpet as been ripped up.

I see two masses of teased, blonde hair in the corner by a drum kit, a fluff ball of black, curly hair laying in the floor wear sunglasses, and teased red hair.

"Duff." Izzy states, and I turn to see him on a holed up couch in the corner, cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Izzy." I acknowledge him.

"Viv." He replies in the same tone, not bothering to look up from his guitar.

"Yeah?" Duff asks, glancing over at him to see me. "Hey!" He immediately stops what he's doing to come over, the other three boys looking up at me as well. "What're you doing here?" He asks, hugging me, and I look up at him after seeing Steven coming over here.

"Nikki and I were about to go out for our anniversary and I decided to come by since I haven't talked to you in a couple weeks. But, um, I know you've been busy I just thought I would stop by." I explain, smiling when Steven's energetic vibe spills over to me when he squeezes me to him.

"Well, we were just taking a break if you wanna hangout for a little bit." Duff offers.

I glance at Axl over Duff's shoulder, seeing he's irritated, and I let out a breath.

My relationship with Axl was about how my relationship with Vince was.

We loved to hate each other.

But not because Axl was a pig like Vince was. But because he and I were the same exact person.

I don't know if it was the overzealous religious up bringing forced upon us, or our struggles with similar mental disorders, but we both had the same nearly uncontrollable temper.

We got along most of the time, our issue, though, was that we saw things differently, and would get into heated arguments.

The longer the band stayed together, the worse Axl got.

It became more and more about him, and not so much the band.

When Steven was fired for getting too deep into heroin (as if he was the only one in the band with addiction issues) Axl had the honor Robbin, Vince, and Doc, all had been given: my fist to his face.

He was trying his hardest not to punch me back as I yelled:

"I'm not in your fucking band, I'm not on your fucking payroll, so I have no problem telling you, you're a fucking piece of shit and you need a hell of a lot more help than what you're getting right now! You're acting like a trigger happy crazy person, you have got your band members paranoid about who's gonna go next and for the love of God, Axl, of all the ways you could have handled the man that has saved your wife's life not once, but twice, you fire him for doing something you idiots were glorifying three years ago?! Get your shit together, Rose, because you're getting fucking messy!"

I had quoted him, from when he said, "get your shit together, Sixx, because you're getting fucking messy" after Duff and I had nearly been caught by Nikki.

The entire time they were on tour with us, Axl was paranoid Nikki would find out Duff and I were friendly with each other, kick Guns off the tour, and blacklist them through the label...

He got even more uptight when Steven and Slash accidentally gave me weed brownies a few days into the tour, and I was stoned out of my mind for six hours straight, and Steven, Slash, Duff, and were chasing me around and trying to make sure I didn't make it obvious to anyone on Mötley's team or Nikki, Tommy, Vince and Mick, that the supporting band got Nikki's stone cold sober wife high as a kite. Izzy just found it amusing.

One thing about Axl, though. He taught Tansy how to stick up for herself, which gave her the courage to publicly out her abusers in her agency and industry. I guess that's why I didn't kill him despite the many times I heavily considered it.

"I would hang around, but, I've really gotta get going." I tell Duff. "But I'll call you tomorrow or Tuesday and we can figure out when a good time to hangout before I go to Japan, alright?"

"Okay." He nods.

"Okay, I gotta go, Steven." I squeeze him equally as tight as he is me, ruffling his hair a little.

"Boo! Buzzkill." He protests my leaving and I roll my eyes as he steps back to his drums.

"I'll talk to you later." I tell Duff, standing on my tip toes to kiss his cheek innocently.

"Yeah. Have fun tonight." He tells me. "And happy anniversary."

"Thank you, sweetie." I say as I wipe my lipstick from his cheek. "Love you, be good." I tell them before turning to go.

"Love you." Steven and Duff say back.

"Viv." Izzy tells me as I head for the door, as his way of saying 'bye'.

"Izzy." I reply, before stepping out.

#nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mötley crüe #the dirt #the dirt movie #gateway drug

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Prompts 10 and 36 just scream Spideychelle. They don't have to be written together, though that might tickle your fancy too

Thanks for the prompts, @soonersgirl86 and Anon! I did end up writing 10 and 36 together, so thank you for putting that idea in my head! Hope you enjoy the results!

The Game’s a Foot on BluePairing:Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle)Rating: TWord count: 1764

10.“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

36. “I’d be fine having sex with the same person forthe rest of my life, if it wasn’t the same sex every single time.”

When you grew up as the ‘smart kid,’ you knew it. You wereeither fawned over or pushed too hard by your parents. Either admired orresented by your siblings. Your classmates simultaneously teased you and wantedyou in their group for projects. Maybe you were lonely, or maybe you enrolledin a good high school, full of ‘smart kids.’ Then you might take it a stepfurther and join Academic Decathlon, grouping yourself with the students thatthe rest of the overachievers thought of as the ‘smart kids.’ Once you’dreached this level, this upper echelon of tomorrow’s leaders, you couldn’t justplay a board game in your spare time. At least, that was what Flash was attemptingto convince them of.

MJ was currently trying to disappear into the thick cushionsat one end of the couch in Flash’s family’s living room. Every time herobnoxious teammate paced by her, she got a lungful of air that had the generalscent of Too Much Body Spray. She was full of regret; one surprise, come-from-behindvictory during a Decathlon scrimmage with another local school had made herfeel dangerously friendly towards the losers she captained and, in the insanityof the moment, she’d spoken two fateful words: “team bonding.”

Now the entire team was spending their Saturday nighttogether at the Thompsons’ while Flash’s parents had a ‘romantic weekend’(Flash’s words―uh, barf) in Las Vegas. Weird family. Somewhere between animpromptu video game championship and the time the tower of pizzas arrived (apparentlya purchase that qualified as an emergency, subsequently charged to Mr.Thompson’s credit card), MJ had identified sinking into the depths of the couchas the least obvious escape route. They just had to forget about her for awhile. If she was completely still, there would eventually be an opportunity tobook it to the door and taste the freedom of her old life. A life before teambonding.

But then Flash started in on his board games rant and beforehe’d reached the end of it (she hoped there actually was an end), he’d beguncounting the other people in the room in case teams needed to be formed. Whatpissed MJ off even more than being counted for participation reasons was thefact that Flash didn’t know how many people were in Decathlon. Not like theyhad biweekly practices or he’d been on the team for three years with very fewnew faces or anything. Moron.

“So we combine them,” he insisted. “Play multiple games atonce.”

“More challenging,” Cindy agreed, perking up next to MJ. “Ilike it.”

“Bonding is cancelled,” MJ protested wearily. “I’m thecaptain.”

Flash rounded on her, crossing his arms.

“Well, there should be another captain, for, like, moraleand chilling!” he said. “And that’s me.”

“That’s the last thing we need,” she grumbled.

“You’re wrong,” Flash argued, “and I’ll prove it.”

That was probably when she should’ve protested harderinstead of slouching off to the bathroom, but hey, she’d drunk two cans ofginger ale and her bladder was feeling it. Constant small sips meant shorterresponses and therefore, fewer chances of being engaged in conversation. Now,walking back into the living room, MJ saw that she was going to pay for her peebreak and pay dearly.

There was a creased Twister mat unfolded on the floor.

Logically, there wouldn’t be room for them all on theplastic sheet, but solving that problem was another thing they’d done while shewas gone. (She’d been two minutes! What the hell?!) These devious,academically-accomplished bastards―had already laid out and begun the alternategame, what looked like a combination of Clue and Life. Betty was sitting withher legs neatly folded, hashing out rules that seemed to require players tosolve the murder before they reached retirement. Oh, and the killer was one ofthe family members they would collect on the way.

MJ was going to lose her shit. If she was about to be heldagainst her will for… who knew how long, potentially hours… she would have atleast wanted to be in the group that wouldn’t be contorting themselves to reachthe correct coloured circle.

She could almost convince herself that was how she felt aslong as she didn’t make eye contact with Peter, staring at her from the otherside of the Twister mat. MJ swallowed and did what anyone with a massive secretcrush and a deficient sense of self-preservation would do: she peeled off hersocks, rolled up the cuffs of her boyfriend jeans, and stepped up to the edgeof the mat.

A dozen rounds in and she was lying to herself again. It wasobviously Flash’s body spray that made her want to knock him over, not the factthat he was positioned between her and Peter. (Yeah right.) Maybe he’d toppleon his own if she announced that she knew Peter was Spider-Man. Was that anappropriate conversation starter? Parties weren’t really her thing.

MJ eyed Peter as he placed his left hand on yellow.Seriously, was no one else paying attention to the ease with which that nerdshifted his limbs? You didn’t get casual strength and defined arm muscles likethat from constructing Lego Death Stars, that was for damn sure. It was thelatest in a long, long trail of breadcrumbs she’d been gathering for months. Sheclosed her eyes for a second and refocused on the game. Again, the urge to bumpFlash possessed her. But she wasn’t supposed to wish for him to be out―Flashwas on her team. Twister wasn’t meant to be a team sport, but Christ, thesetouchy-feely saps.

Ned, who had apparently been killed off in Clue/Life (yeah,she really hadn’t gotten a good grasp of the rules, or they’d evolved), was nowworking the Twister spinner and cheerfully reading out each round’saccompanying question. Because it had to be a combination of games. Because,again, Flash was a moron.

“Right foot blue, MJ,” he directed. (Fucking easy for him tosay, she thought as she stretched with a grunt.) “And your question…” Ned drewa card from the deck. “Would you rather have sex with the same person for therest of your life, or never get to have sex with anyone more than once?”

“Flash, where did you get these questions?” she wondered, movingher foot with a smack.

It wasn’t the first time she’d asked, but he was being cageyabout it. Honestly, most of them sounded like they’d come from some kind of sextherapy manual. Oh god, maybe it was a real game and his disgustingly-in-loveparents played it.

“Just answer,” Flash demanded. “I can’t…. stay…”

He slipped and fell on his ass. MJ blurted out a laugh. Finally,she was having fun at team bonding night.

Flash extricated himself from the mat, being a good enoughsport not to try to take MJ or Peter down as he made his exit, going to watchClue/Life. Peter and MJ were the only two left now. MJ rotated her footexperimentally on its circle, making her toes brush Peter’s. A blush raced uphis face like a burning match. Fascinating.

“MJ?” Ned asked, waiting.

“Uh, can you come back to me?”

He frowned.

“You’re supposed to―”

“They’re fake rules,” she reminded him, “and Peter doesn’tcare. I’ll answer my question after he moves.”

Peter shrugged. Ned sighed dramatically.

“Fine, but I think you should be setting a better example ascaptain.”

“Noted.” She rolled her eyes.

“’K, Peter…” He paused as the spinner whirled around. “Lefthand blue.”

MJ clenched her teeth together and squeezed her lips shut asshe analyzed the circles surrounding his current location. She would not smileshe would not smile she would not smile―Peter lunged towards her and, aftermaybe a second’s worth of hesitation, reached his arm over her extended leginstead of under it. She had her stomach to the ceiling, braced on hands and feetlike a crab, which had been extremely unsexy until Peter positioned himselflike he was about to climb on top of her. The front of his t-shirt draped overher thigh. MJ wasn’t sure he strictly had to be that close. She narrowed hereyes.

Dammit, he’d been playing a long game too.

After settling into his new posture by rocking a bit on hishands, he glanced up, flicking hair out of his eyes. They looked at each other.Yep, definitely dammit.

“Back to you,” Ned reminded her. “No more passing.”

“What was the question again?” she checked, trying to soundbored.

“She’s stalling,” Peter accused. Their eyes held for asecond. “MJ has the best memory in this room.”

Playful complaints? Flattery? And, oh, he wanted her toanswer the question? She would answer that question.

“I’d be fine having sex with the same person for the rest ofmy life,” MJ told Ned (while really, actually, telling Peter), “if it wasn’tthe same sex every single time.”

She was almost certain he’d started to lean over her bodymore before shifting back. And his mouth was open. Though she never stared athis mouth. (Another lie.)

“What if it was one person who behaved like two people?” Nedasked gleefully.

Peter’s head whipped around to shoot his friend a wide-eyed lookthat, to MJ, blatantly said shut up.Could they make it any more obvious that Peter had a secret identity? It wasbaffling. These were the stupidest smart kids she’d ever had the misfortune ofmaking friends with… and in one case, accidentally falling head over heels for.If they were going to be that dumb,she would indulge herself in a moment of pretend ignorance.

“Like roleplay or something?” she asked. Peter made a weirdsound in his throat. MJ decided to go in for the kill, catching his eye. “Yeah,maybe. I’m kind of into masks.”

“I forfeit,” Peter announced, springing to his feet.

Once he’d bounded away down the hall to the bathroom, MJ letherself collapse onto the mat.

“So I guess it’s pretty much impossible that you haven’tnoticed Peter likes you,” Ned summarized, idly flicking the spinner.

“I’ve noticed lots of things,” she replied, smiling as shestared at the high ceiling.

She chose not to specify that one of them wasPeter’s super alter ego. Or that another was the bulge in the front of hisjeans he hadn’t managed to completely block with his hands before running out.Not that MJ would ever look.

Pick a prompt for a Spideychelle drabble!

#my writing #prompt #writing prompt #spideychelle #spideychelle fanfiction #spideychelle fic #spiderman #spider-man #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fic #peter parker #michelle jones #peter parker x michelle jones #peter x michelle #peter x mj #fanfiction

[ladylavellaan]

(bnha)Can I get some death in arms, angsty angst? The reader is dating Katsuki and its the readers birthday, they ride on a Subway on their way to a dinner date to celebrate. The Subway is attacked by a pro villain that is just way to powerful. ( If you'd like, I would appreciate you sprinkling in some more sadness about Aizawa being the readers dad and the villain being someone he failed to capture. Only if you want to though, I don't want you over working yourself :') Ty!! -Lavender Anon

Ohhh boy it’s been a while since I’ve attempted angst. I might be a little rusty, but I hope this is okay

I decided to make Kacchan and the reader 3rd years in this prompt. The attack ended up outside of the Subway!!

No need to worry about me though Lavender!!! I’m doing great and I’m soooosoo thankful that you sent me a request

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The city is alive at night.

They are in love as they watch it pass by, a blur of light. Peace finds them. It makes them feel small, watching the world move as they stand still.

But they don’t mind. [f/n] finds that there is strength in the revelation of mortality.

Geez, [f/n], they squint at their reflection. Good birthday thoughts, good birthday thoughts… Why’re you philosophizing on a train to Kamino, huh?

Sighing, [f/n] passes a glance to their boyfriend of three years, Katsuki. They smile. He’s changed so much. That rage that engulfed him for most of his life is now a calmer fire he can control. Fury was replaced with energy, the energy and motivation to be able to move forward.

They’re so proud of him.

Katsuki catches their gaze. A teasing smirk lifts his lips. He coyly remarks, “You gotta stop being cute and shit. You’re too old for the schoolgirl act now, you know.”

But he’s still an ass.

“So rude… How else am I going to charm you now that I’m withering away?” Keeping in mind that he’s the same age as them, too, they giggle out. Their expression turns serious again, quickly adding, “You’re only dating me for my money.”

“Yeah, you fucking got me. Right on the bullseye, as always. Nothing less from you.” Katsuki deftly grabs their chin, his smirk growing into a wolfish grin. “I’m dating you because you’re the best, and I love you.”

They flush. “I-I love y-”

“-happy birthday. Now stop fishing for compliments, idiot,” he murmurs and pulls them into a quick kiss. Their heart skips a beat. “You’re already pushing it. I gave up my study sess with Ponytail for this.”

“A valiant sacrifice,” they laugh, and he smiles. “You’ll do fine.”

“Memorization doesn’t do shit for me, but with all the chapters we have to cover? It doesn’t help the fact that-” He suddenly stops, ruby eyes distracted by a flashing red notification on his phone. The expression on his face changes from relaxed to on-guard in a matter of seconds.

[f/n] straightens, and flicks out their phone from their jacket pocket. Just like his, the notification pops up red, sending a chill of anxiety down their body.

ATTENTION: Villain “Blink” spotted approaching the Naka ward. Pro-heroes Star Justice and Lovelace are trying to apprehend the villain, but he overpowered them and made a break for it. Please be careful and stay indoors if you are in or near the Naka ward! 38 casualties follow this villain…

“38 casualties?” They air out. “Star Justice and Lovelace are ranked 16th and 21st respectively, right? No, the villain must be too strong. Blink- he’s the fast one, isn’t he? That’s-”

They recognize the name. That’s the one Aizawa-sensei failed to capture, far too fast for his eyes to leave the villain powerless. They didn’t pay much attention to the details. They only cared about Aizawa, a parental figure in their life, who dealt with failure by blaming himself.

“Yeah,” Katsuki answers, distracted. Panic seizes him for a second. Who the hell will take this guy down, then? Speed has always been an issue in any fucking battle. The moment your opponent is too fast for you to handle, it’s over. Even widescale attacks can’t do much if the enemy has half a brain cell. And this guy… 300 mph in less than a second. Fuck…

He clicks his phone on. Another notification flares across his screen, this time white.

From: Kirishima

bro, we gotta do something about this blink guy. deku and shouto are gonna go too, along with iida and momo. 

Katsuki immediately makes up his mind. “Sounds like the bastard is giving the pros hell. We should-”

He turns to them quickly, a plan forming in his head. It’d be easy. So fucking easy, and with them at his side, it’d be a piece of cake.

“Katsuki, I…” Their voice wavers, and he’s snapped out of his thoughts. The look in their wide eyes depict something he can’t quite name- fear, maybe? They look like they know something bad is going to happen. 38 casualties and that number is rising, no doubt about it. Katsuki can’t just ignore something like this. He’s a hero, goddamn it, he’s supposed to do something about this.

But he is also theirs. And that look in their eyes… He can’t just ignore that either.

“The fucking nerds at school have it,” he reassures them, wrapping a strong arm around them. “Let’s just enjoy your birthday, yeah?”

To: Kirishima

From: Bakugou

i can’t. celebrating [f/n]’s birthday. you better have this one in the bag. if that villain beats the shit out of you, i’ll bring you back to life and end you again. and be fucking careful!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Soooo, can I open my present now?”

“When we get to the café, idiot. I made reservations and everything, and we’re cutting it close. So hurry your ass up, come on.” A rough tug on their hand has them stumbling side by side by him, unaware of his growing paranoia. The station of Kamino is desolate, the wind whispering into empty space. This already feels wrong.

Some station shops are open, but he can feel the anxiety of the workers, itching to lock the door shut. Katsuki clicks on his phone. No new notifications, nothing from Kirishima or Iida or Deku. He makes a ‘tsk’ sound and wraps an arm around [f/n], pulling them close.

“You’re worried,” they say, after one look at his expression. Katsuki looks away with a glare. “Katsuki…”

“Don’t make such a sad expression,” he grumbles and runs his hand down their face. They scrunch up their nose and swats his hand away. He continues, “I want to spend your birthday with you, here. Just the two of us. Hell, Aizawa-sensei even suggested we do something together for today. But I’m on high alert, can you really blame me? With a villain running loose?”

“Villains are running loose all the time, Katsuki.”

“What the fuck does that- I know that. But on your birthday, of all days, and the villain just had to be the one sensei couldn’t capture? A smart, competent villain, with a powerful quirk like that? I don’t want this asswipe to ruin your day-”

“Our day,” they insist. They pull him down for a soft kiss. “Yeah, it’s my birthday, but I wanted to spend it with you. Just us two. But I’m… kind of anxious as well. For the others who are dealing with Blink, especially.”

His expression softens. “Yeah? Alright. I’ll accompany you back home, and then I’ll go to the fight and help those sods out.”

“What? Katsuki, that’s-”

“-Not necessary,” an unfamiliar voice grumbles out, smooth and low. Katsuki whips around, a protective arm hovering in front of [f/n]. Is this real? Did he seriously not hear this fucker coming? Blink snuck up on them like ground squirrel nabbing a seed. Those little shits are sneaky! Fucking damn it!

“Blink,” Katsuki growls out, and he suddenly notes the blood staining the man’s silver-blue villain suit. Fuck. Kirishima, Deku, everyone else… You all better be okay. “Fucking bootleg Sonic the Hedgehog over here doesn’t know how to make an entrance. That’s a nice trick you got there, sneaking up on me like that.”

“I can do so much more.” Blink’s voice drops an octave, expression wild with bloodlust. His brown hair is mussed. Underneath that eye mask might be someone who is handsome and paired with such an attractive voice Katsuki can only guess that this man is popular. But right now, he’s a villain and he’s a threat.

“Stay back,” Katsuki orders, not sparing a glance at [f/n] as he wolfishly grins.

”I’ll call for help,” they say. “So give me cover.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Charging with no room for mercy, an explosion sends Katsuki flying forward at breakneck speed.

The villain’s name is Blink for a reason. One second he was in front of them, visible and intimidating. The next second? He was behind Katsuki, standing between him and [f/n]. Katsuki is sent flying from a kick delivered harshly to his back, slamming into the wall.

[f/n] flips out their phone and starts to run the opposite direction. They trust in Katsuki to end this fight, but he needs backup. Help. From anyone. The others must have not stood a chance… Not even Todoroki or Deku. Or even Momo…

Who to call, who to call. Not a student, no. Who would answer now, someone capable, someone who knows what to do?

Aizawa-sensei.

Scrolling through their contacts furiously, [f/n] hits the call button beside Aizawa’s name as they run. Behind them, Blink disappears again. “Damn it,” they curse, running blindly into the tunnel. “Come on, come on, Aizawa-sensei-”

Suddenly, blue flame lights up the dark, swallowing the hand holding their phone. A shriek of pain echoes through the station, and Katsuki feels his heart drop in the midst of the debris.

“There’s no need for that,” a boy with patchwork skin says. Beside him, a blonde girl with buns grins at them, cheeks flushing pink. “Now, be good and don’t you move an inch. We can make this painless for you.” 

Two more of them. Damn it!

Still disoriented by the pain, they spit out, “What the hell do you want?”

“Get the fuck away from them!” Katsuki roars, a large explosion launching him into the tunnels. The ground tremors from the sheer power of it all, but Blink is fast- he reappears and rams his knee into Katsuki’s gut.

“Katsuki!” They cry out. Damn it, damn it, damn it..! On your feet, [f/n]. There we go. Now activate your fucking quirk and buy time for Katsuki.

“Oh?” The boy with the patchwork skin smiles. “You’re gonna-”

A roar of fury and energy leaves them, an explosion of light terrifying the villains. Now with the three of them blinded, f/n can dive for their phone and make a break for it. Away from Katsuki to separate the villains so he can fight maybe two or one and he can get out of this, alive-

Instinct and reflexes grab a hold of Blink, and he wastes no time delivering a merciless punch to [f/n’s] stomach. That alone is enough to send them flying, the force taking their breath away. They hear the shatter of their ribs, the breaking of something else as they slam into an adjacent wall.

Now, unable to breathe properly, Blink staggers towards them, eyes squinting. “Nasty quirk you got there,” he comments. “I’ll finish this one off. You two get the other one.”

“Oooh, can I kill him please? Can I? Can I? He was the one who rejected us before, and we never really forgot that.” That voice is beginning to ring in their head. They feel lightheaded.

“Better yet,” the other voice, the one with the patchwork skin, purrs out, “make him watch what’s about to happen to them.”

“You bastards! Don’t underestimate them! They’ll-” Katsuki, that’s Katsuki. He really believes in them, huh…?

Something sharp cuts into them.  A strangled cry leaves them, the pain spreading. Knife deeply lodged into their side, Blink twists the blade in a slow semi-circle, darkly hushing, “That’s it. You can die like the rest of them did.”

“No,” they whisper weakly, horrified. Momo and Deku and Todoroki and the others, are they...? No, no way.

“Rest,” Blink commands, and sends another graceless stab into flesh and bone. Blood rises up their throat and spills from their mouth, small hics and gasps leaving them.

Memories flash through their head: the spot underneath the tree where they went to eat lunch with their friends, that night underneath the stars with Katsuki, making it to the top 20 in the Sports Festival, the internships, Katsuki’s confession, their mother’s gentle kiss on their forehead, their father’s smile when they showed them their test scores, Aizawa-sensei patting their head when they revealed they beat Katsuki in sparring, the first time Katsuki said ‘I love you’…

They’re left there to die.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Katsuki is victorious. Bone-shatteringly so. Every part of his body screams, blood obscuring his vision. Nothing feels right anymore. He can’t even get up to find [f/n], apologize for this wreck of a birthday.

The two delinquent villains have run off with their tails between their legs; after Blink was blinded, Katsuki took advantage of that and send explosion after explosion his way. Close combat sufficed more effective than keeping him at a distance, so that forced him to rely solely on instinct. He is pure instinct, though, raw and wild. Blink lays a few feet away, silent and unresponsive.

“[f/n],” he rasps out and rolls onto his side. His eyes try to focus but to no avail. Double vision. Great.

Silence.

“[f/n], where are you?”

Silence. Katsuki forces his eyes to focus. Their body is near, but it’s weird, it’s twisted wrong. And the blood suddenly blooming on their shirt…

“Hey,” he whispers and reaches out for them. A futile attempt. His arms scream in pain. He doesn’t care. His hand doesn’t even reach them. “Hey.”

Nothing.

He knows what this is. This is mortal life and how fragile it is. This is flesh, and bone, and how easy it must have been to rip apart. This is [f/n], laying their ungracefully, treated with no care. He knows what happened. He knows, his mind knows. But there’s just no way…

Katsuki army crawls towards them. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, but he remembers the look in their eyes, how scared they looked. He can’t just leave them alone. He remembers their hand shaking when he held it, he remembers that. He remembers the grassy field they lay on when they stargazed, and they said, It’s so beautiful, but he was staring at them and how fucking astounded they looked. It was just fucking stars in the sky but they looked so amazed that he couldn’t help but smile.

How did they look, in their last moments…? Scared? No, they must have put a brave front. That’s one of the things he fell in love with.

“Hey,” he wheezes out, finally by their side. Their eyes are open and blank, mouth slightly agape. Blood had poured from their mouth to their neck, an unholy sight. “f/n.”

Nothing.

“Hey,” he tries again.

Silence. Their eyes are hollow, unexpressive. He suddenly sees them in the hallways of U.A, laughing loudly at something Kirishima was saying. The sunbeams hit them the right way, and they looked at peace, they looked like how they should be: Happy. Safe.

Alive.

“… No, god, fuck,” he whispers, and his voice gives out. “No, f/n, no, no. Don’t tell me you had to…”

Die alone, like this.

“This is unacceptable,” he chokes out, and the tears build up in his eyes. His arms shakily reach out for them, pulling them into his weak embrace. No. They can’t die! How is he supposed to accept that? Their fucking birthday and they didn’t even get to experience anything yet, and his present, what about his present? How are they supposed to open it?

What about the rest of their lives? What about graduation? What about…?

A brilliant young hero is gone because Katsuki couldn’t fucking protect them. The person he loved died because he wasn’t strong enough.

The realization makes him heave, a shaky sob leaving him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

When the authorities find him, Blink is captured successfully. Katsuki was still holding onto f/n at that time. He was congratulated for taking down such a strong villain, but it felt like static- like ice had overtaken his body. Victory didn’t feel like anything to him.

Everyone wept with him; their parents, their friends, their classmates. He caught Aizawa-sensei drinking alone, once. Katsuki left him be, reminded of how close [f/n] and sensei were.

The city never looked alive anymore afterwards.

#you can tell i struggled with this one a little bit #its been a while since i did angst #bnha #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagines #bakugo katsuki x reader