#going insane. my brain is melting and being build up again and again and again

[thetriumphantpanda]

new perspective | joel miller

Summary | the summed wedged between finishing your undergraduate degree and starting on your graduate programme just got a lot better when Joel Miller turns out to feel exactly the same about you as you do to him.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.7k

Warnings | Explicit Smut. dbf!Joel makes his return on my blog, mentions of food and alcohol, Joel being competent and fixing stuff, the classic dbf trop of a cookout, sex while your parents are around, oral sex (f), masturbation (m), unprotected PiV, talk of contraception, dirty talk, praise kink, THE RETURN OF MIRROR SEX BY THETRIUMPHANTPANDA, no outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I missed dad's best friend Joel so I wrote him :) I hope you like him. This is a standalone but I won't rule out adding more in this universe if y'all like it. I have to shoutout @hellishjoel for talking me through how to make a moodboard so beautifully, thank you honey! If you like this, consider reblogging/commenting/leaving asks for me - it really helps!

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for my writing updates. 

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The incessant dripping of the kitchen tap is driving you insane. You’d come back to Texas for the summer to relax. Hoping to leave behind shoddy workmanship that your landlord refused to fix because he would do it when you moved out, ready for the next lot of college kids to come in. If your dad had mentioned the dripping kitchen tap, the creaky floorboards on the stairs and the issue with water pressure that meant showering took longer than necessary, maybe you’d have stayed where you were.

“Someone’s comin’ to take a look at that later,” He’d said on his way out to work that morning, head tilting towards the kitchen, “Should be here after lunch.”

You’d waved him off, barely looking up from the book you were reading, legs outstretched on the couch with your notepad and pen resting on the arm. Wasn’t much of a summer when you were going straight from your undergraduate degree into a graduate programme.

As the day moved on, the heat got worse. Glasses of ice water turning lukewarm before you had a chance to cool down. The patio door open, hoping for a breeze every now and then, but finding no reprieve. The ice pop doesn’t even help that much, melting too quickly before you had a chance to enjoy it.

It’s pushing 2pm when there’s a knock at the door. Reading material and notepad pushed onto the floor, trash TV on in the background as you try not to sweat to death. It takes you a minute to register the noise, so long that whoever it is here to look at the tap knocks again.

You pull open the door, wincing when the heat of the sun being let in sinks across your skin. The change in light means it’s a few seconds before your eyes adjust to who it is standing in front of you. Joel Miller.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. He’s been busy, according to your dad, building his business with Tommy. Lots of out of town trips now Sarah is grown and away to college for her first year - schedules not quite lining up for you to see him when you come home, but God are you glad you have the chance now. He’s older now, obviously, greying a little. His hair has grown too, curls flopping onto his forehead and around his ears. He looks broader now than he did - the physical labour obviously working in his favour - you can see the arms of his t-shirt straining around the muscles there, but as you let your eyes trail down a little, you’re pleased to see that he clearly still enjoys his barbecue and beer.

“Y’gonna let me in, sweetheart?” He asks and that Southern drawl hasn’t changed either, low and slow, tickling just the right parts of your brain as they always had.

You’d thought whatever it was that you felt for him was just some silly schoolgirl crush, but the longer he hung around, the older he got, the more you realised he wasn’t something you’d grow out of liking. Not even the fair amount of fooling around at college had helped - boys that had no idea what they were doing, who couldn’t take instruction to save their lives. Whenever they’d leave, you’d lie there, sheets pulled up under you chin, and think, Joel Miller would never leave me like that - wet, wanting and unsatisfied.

“Sorry,” You mumble, taking a side step to let him in, “Here to fix the tap, right?”

“That’s right,” He replies, walking in and straight to the kitchen - he spends more of his time here than you do now, “Nice t’see you back for a while.”

You close the door, stopping off to lean over the couch and grab your half-empty water glass before following behind him to the kitchen.

“Weird to be back, honestly,” You muse, pulling a fresh glass out of the cupboard, “Didn’t think this place would ever change much, but it feels different.”

“Probably you that’s changed,” He talks as he opens the toolbox he’s bought with him, “Got a different perspective on things now you live in the big city.”

“You’re probably right,” You agree, filling the glasses with ice and water, sipping from one and putting the other near to where Joel is working, “And the fact no-one else left I suppose - did you know Becca from my year at school has had two kids since I’ve been away?”

Joel let’s out a low whistle as he uses some tool to tighten something on the tap, sighing when it doesn’t stop the leaking, “Two kids at your age?” He asks, “I could barely deal with Sarah, I don’t know how folks do it.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You shrug, leaning against the kitchen counter, “I can barely keep myself alive.”

He turns his head, his brown eyes roving you up and down, is he…? Is he checking you out? He lets out a little cough and reaches for his water, taking two deep drinks of it before he turns back to the job at hand, sinking to his knees on the floor to open the cupboard under the sink. He’s got his head inside it when he speaks again.

“I don’t know,” He muses, “You look pretty alive to me.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, “Best compliment I’ve ever received.”

You can hear him laugh a little from under the sink, the noise punctuated with the sounds of him gently hammering at something.

“Can you pass me the screwdriver down?” He asks, an arm extending out towards you as you rifle through his toolbox, setting the tool in his hand when you find it.

It doesn’t take him much longer to fix whatever was wrong, the dripping from the faucet stopping, giving you the sweet relief of silence, save for him groaning as he stands from his knees.

“Maybe time to retire, old man?” You offer with a smirk as he shoves the tools back into the box.

“Careful,” He warns, but his voice is light and you know he’s teasing, “I’m in the prime of my life.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m all done,” He says a few moments later once he’s cleaned up, “Tell your dad I’ll be back sometime in the week to look at the shower.”

You follow him back to the door, like a lost puppy on his heel, wanting to spend as much time as possible in his company before he leaves.

“Thanks for coming,” You say when he opens the door, “The dripping was driving me wild.”

“No problem sweetheart, my pleasure,” He smiles, “Anythin’ else you let your dad know he can call me, okay?” You nod in response, about to close the door, “It’s real good to see you again.”

“You too, Joel.”

It’s been just over a week since Joel had fixed the tap. He’d been back and forth to tinker with the other issues throughout the house, talking to you here and there, but tonight is the first time he’ll be here without the pretence of needing to fix something. It’s always the same in Southern households in the summer - each household in a group of friends taking turns to host some form of dinner for everyone else, eating together in the name of community.

There’s a table full of food - your mother had made enough side dishes to feed the five thousand, potato salad, fresh bread and enough green salad that you’d all be eating it for days afterwards. The fridge stocked full of beer and wine and the crowning glory of a cheesecake you’d slaved over for hours yesterday.

Joel is here, along with Tommy, and your neighbours on both sides too. Your mom and dad had invited friends from work, but just like you’d expected, none of your friends from before you left were able to make it - prior commitments of children, husbands and work.

It’s a low-key affair, a table full of grilled meat and sides and plenty of alcohol, but it’s the alcohol that’s made this difficult for you. With Joel sitting right next you, smelling of cologne and entirely unaware that you’re creaming in your panties about wanting him to fuck you.

You’d not been subtle today either - picking the shortest dress you own, bending over to pick something up in front of him, laughing at his jokes and pressing against him at the table whenever he says something interesting or funny - you want him to know that you want him, you want him to know that he’s all you’ve been able to think about since he showed up on the porch last week.

And you think he does. When you rest a hand on his knee under the table after a particularly funny story about his apprentice and a drill on the worksite, he gives you a pointed look, but doesn’t brush your hand away, and when you announce to the table that you need to use the bathroom and cool down a little, you’re halfway up the stairs when you hear his footsteps following you - almost hunting you into the bathroom and closing the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doin’, sugar.”

Got him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel.” You smirk, turning around to lean against the sink as the bathroom door closes with a snick.

“Though you were a smart city girl now,” He muses, leaning his back against the door - you don’t miss his hand turning the lock, “You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

“Maybe you should explain it to me,” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, “I’d hate for us to have crossed wires.”

He shakes his head, but you can see the twitch of his mouth upwards, “Firstly, this little number,” His hand waves at your dress, barely short enough to cover your ass, “And the way you’ve been bendin’ over all night right when I happen to be lookin’, sittin’ right next to me, the way you’re puttin’ your hands on my leg whenever you laugh?” You shrug in response, “Definitely not the sweet girl I remember before you left.”

“Things change,” You offer, “New perspectives and all that.”

“And those new perspectives make you wanna fuck this old man?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Is that such a crime?”

“College boys ain’t doin’ it for you?”

“No.” You reply simply, trying to keep your grin from blooming as he starts stepping towards you until you can feel the heat from his body.

He’s looming over you, hands on either side of your body, caging you between his body and the sink. You look up, find his face close to yours and waste no time in pressing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him.

It’s soft. Softer than you’d imagined from him - his mouth moving slowly against your lips as he presses his body flush to yours. You open your mouth against his a little, let your tongue trail over his bottom lip, hands reaching up to grip onto his t-shirt as his tongue meets yours.

You think you could stay like that forever, tasting him, but he pulls away, hands gripping your hips through the material of your dress to turn you around. There’s a brief moment where he presses himself against you, letting you feel the hardening of his cock against your ass, but then he’s gone, dropped to his knees behind you, tearing your panties down your legs to pool at your ankles.

Joel brings his palms to the naked skin of your ass, squeezing before he pulls gently, spreading you open with a low whistle from his mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’re this wet from teasing me, sugar.” He says, leaning forward to press his mouth to the top of your spine.

You’re about to respond when you feel one of his hands drop and then brush against the slick folds of your cunt, all you can do is watch yourself in the mirror as you tip your head forward and wait for what’s coming.

You feel him run his fingers back down before one of them dips lower, dangerously close to your fluttering hole that’s begging to be filled - and he knows it.

“She’s desperate, huh?” He coos behind you, “Practically beggin’ for someone to fill her up, ain’t she?”

“Please, Joel?” You breathe out, looking at yourself in the mirror, “I need it.”

“What do you need?” He asks with a tender squeeze of his other palm to your ass, “Huh? You tell me sugar and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your m-mouth,” You stutter out, “Or your f-fingers, anything Joel, please.”

“Like this?” He asks, and you’re about to ask what he means when you feel the warmth of his tongue lapping at you.

He’s tasting you, lapping at your core where you’re seeping slick just for him, his fingers trailing up, finding that bud of nerves, gently circling as he drinks from you.

“Ohhhhhh,” You sigh out in relief, taking yourself in when you look at your reflection, hair a little mused, skin slick with sweat already, “Just like that.”

You can feel his tongue pressing inside a little as his finger finds a rhythm of short gentle swipes across your clit - he’s got your knees wobbling already, making you flatten your palms on the marble sink to keep yourself upright.

“You gotta be quiet, okay?” He says, pulling his mouth off you to speak, dragging his fingers from your clit, “You make too much noise, I’ll have to stop.”

You hum in agreement, waiting to see what his next move is, which is to sink of of his thick fingers right inside your cunt and to lean forward underneath you enough so his tongue is moving against your clit. You have to bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out - if there’s one thing college boys don’t do, it’s this.

You’re not sure how long he stays down there, lapping at your clit and slowly moving that finger inside you, but you know you’d have stayed there all night if you could, teetering just on the edge until he felt like finishing you off.

There’s a whine that leaves your mouth when his lips leave you - the finger that was inside you also gone, but he swaps them again - soaked fingers rubbing at your clit whilst he literally sucks the wet from your cunt, like a man who has gone without water for months. The hand that he’s hand pressed to your ass cheek is gone too - you can hear him fumbling with his belt and the movement of material somewhere along the line too, then, he’s groaning into your cunt.

You turn your head a little, but you can’t see him well enough to confirm what you think he’s doing - lapping at your cunt and circling your clit whilst he’s fisting his own cock.

“Are y-you-” You choke out, trying to keep your moans quiet as you feel the coil tightening in your tummy, “Are you touching yourself?”

Joel’s fingers continues its movement across your clit but his mouth leaves you, “Course I am,” He confesses, “Couldn’t help myself, sugar.”

“Just-” You trail off, a small, quiet moan slipping through the cracks of your resolve, “Put it inside me Joel.”

“Not yet,” He says, “Gotta make you cum first.”

“M’close,” You breathe out, pushing your hips back a little to get him to go back to what he was doing before, “Please Joel, I wanna cum.”

“Go on then, baby,” He coos, tongue back to licking at your wet hole, “You can let go.”

You feel your cunt pull tight and your knees buckle and your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood as his fingers expertly push you over the edge. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, begging for him to slip himself inside you so you have something to clench around as the hot furl of pleasure drifts like electric across your skin.

“Good girl,” You can hear him murmuring behind you, “So good bein’ so quiet like that.”

You’ve barely got time to recover before he’s standing up and pressing into you from behind, his lips wet and hot across the skin of your shoulder, a trail of wet being left from the drag of his beard where your slick has gathered.

“I don’t have anything on me,” He breathes into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You got anything?”

You shake your head, “I’m clean though, I promise,” You speak softly, feeling him press his cock through your folds, “And I’m on the pill.”

He’s dragging his cock back through your folds, letting the head of it nudge slightly at your entrance, “You let anyone else fuck you bare before?” His hot breath asks into your ear.

“N-no,” You confess, “Only you.”

You can feel him press himself forward a little bit, feeding the tip of his cock into your cunt. There’s no doubt he’s big, bigger than you’re used to, but there’s no ache, not even when he pressed his hips further forward until you can feel his skin against yours and he’s buried fully inside you.

“Jesus,” He chokes out, “Fuckin’ Christ you feel good.”

Joel brings a hand up to rest against your throat, but it’s only to guide your eyeline to the mirror in front of you. He’s crowding behind you, hot and heavy against your back as he slowly starts to move, dragging his cock from your cunt and back in, chuckling against the skin of your cheek when you smile and giggle as the tip of him nudges at the very depths of you.

“You look good like this.” He whispers.

“We look good like this.” You counter, struggling to breathe a little as he picks the pace up, hips hitting into the meat of your ass on every thrust.

“We do,” He smiles, dragging himself off you a little to rest his hand on the back of your neck instead, “You like watching yourself get fucked, baby?”

You can’t speak anymore, the angle of his cock brushing against something inside of you which has you struggling to keep yourself quiet, so you just nod your head and let him press you further down into the counter, holding you still with his firm hand on your neck as he really starts to fuck you now.

You’re glad you can hear the music from the garden from here - means your dad has it turned up loud enough that no-one would be able to hear the squelch of your pussy on every thrust or the sound of your skin slapping together as Joel speeds up. It feels too good, you feel too full and you can feel that tightening coil again, feel the clenching of your cunt around his cock.

Looking into the mirror, you can see he’s in a similar state to you, his eyes angled down to watch his cock disappear into the heat of your cunt each time, sweat gathering along his brow. He sounds good too - small grunts on every thrust and a suck of breath whenever you constrict around him.

“One more, baby,” He urges, “Want to feel you cum on my cock, okay?”

He shifts his position a little so he’s fucking up into you - head of his cock pounding against that spot inside you that only you’d been able to find until now. It makes your legs shake and you have to bite down on your fist when he makes you cum again to stop yourself from crying out - tears springing at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill as he talks you through it, tells you how pretty you look and how good you’re being for him.

“M’gonna cum baby,” He warns from behind you, “Where d’ya want it?”

You have no sense in your head anymore, he’s fucked it from you thoroughly, so you say the first thing that comes to mind - beg him to cum inside you, to fill you up. It’s safe, of course it would be, but you’re glad that somewhere in the haze of it all, he’s got more sense than you, pulling himself out of your cunt at just the last second, resting it against your ass as he spills across the skin of your lower back with a growl of your name on his mouth.

There’s silence as the two of you suck in breath to your lungs, letting your senses come back to you. Joel is quiet as he steps back and pulls his jeans back up to dress himself. He uses some tissue to clean you up, inspecting the hem of your dress for any stains he might have left before he’s dragging your panties back up your legs.

You have a try and fixing your hair, wetting your fingers from the sink to try and tame the flyaways, wondering if he’s going to walk away and leave you, but he doesn’t, he just stands behind you and waits for you to finish.

“I hope that was okay?” He offers sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck when you’re done.

“I asked for it,” You smile at him, “It was fine Joel.”

“Only fine?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You chuckle and slap him playfully on his arm, “Best I've ever had,” You offer, “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” He chuckles, moving to unlock the bathroom door before he turns back to you, “We don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

You make a sign of a cross above your heart, “Not a soul.”

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[tipsyleaf]

This is so basic but it just popped into my mind and I thought it was the cutest thing in the world!

Imagine Leon sneaking Violet onto his motorcycle when she was a kid. You absolutely hated the idea of your little girl on Leon’s motorcycle, especially knowing how he was. It freaked you out—no matter how many times Leon tried to explain to you that it was totally okay.

Leon would come up with a plan to keep you out of the house; he’d give you his credit card to splurge on yourself, saying you earned and deserved it for taking care of his daughter, and as well as being an amazing wife. You accepted of course, giving yourself a day to go crazy and shop till your little heart dropped.

You’d come home to a suspiciously quiet house…Where the hell did Violet and Leon go? His car was in the garage, but his motorcycle wasn’t. Your brain would just immediately connect the dots, he took Violet on his motorcycle. No wonder he was so persistent in you getting out of the house!!

As soon as you heard your little girls giggles and the door open, you’re already at the top of the stairs with your arms crossed. Violet was talking about how fun it was! How it cool it was feeling the wind through her hair, all while Leon took his leather jacket off.

And once he saw you…He knew he was in trouble.

- Anon! 🎀

(I'll be honest, I'd be fucking furious with him too)

His wife just standing at the top of the steps looking down at him like Michael Myers...

And Leon's silently shitting bricks cause he knows she knows. He fucked up big time. You walk downstairs and Violet comes rushing up to you. Telling you everything about the motorcycle ride, as if Leon telling her not to say anything completely left her mind. You crouch to her level fixing her wind blown hair back in place as she keeps blathering.

"Violet baby, why don't you go brush your hair? Get all tidied up and mommy'll take you to get dinner."

"Okay!" Violet smiles wider and starts skipping off down the hall towards the bathroom, Leon starts trying to follow her when you grab his shoulder after quickly standing. Gritting your teeth as you spoke.

"Not you." You could feel the tension coming back into your body. You just spent the day getting a nice massage and shopping. Now you can feel the knots already building back up again. Hearing the bathroom door shut you immediately start tearing into him.

"I told you I didn't want her on that thing yet. You blatantly disrespected my wishes and got me out of the house for the day so you could take our 3 year old out for joy ride on a two wheel death machine... with you driving!"

"Baby it's not -"

"It is a big deal, Leon!" You interrupt him, making him bite the inside of his cheek.

"She's been asking me to take her and I just wanted to give her something she wanted."

"Leon... She's too little to understand how dangerous it is. That's why don't want her on that stupid motorcycle yet. I know you want to give her the world but you need to say no sometimes! I already have to deal with the thought of losing you every time you leave the house and I can't... Not her too..." You take a sharp breath in, thinking about the possibility of losing your husband was enough to break your heart, but your little girl... That would kill you.

"Hey, hey that's not gonna happen. Either of those things." He pulls you into a tight hug. Rubbing at your back as you lazily wrap your arms around him.

"You can't promise that." He pulls back, moving your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.

"I know, but you also can't go around thinking like that or you'll drive yourself insane." You pout at him, feeling your tension start to dissipate.

"I'm already insane, I married you... And gave you a kid." He chuckles, lifting your chin to give you a much needed reassuring kiss. You melt into him just like you do any other time you two kissed. Slowly pulling back he rests your foreheads together with a soft smile.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumbs, "I won't take her out again unless you think it's okay..." You sigh in relief, kissing his cheek.

"Thank you honey."

"But I did get her a harness. Strapped her to my chest and made sure she was holding on nice and tight. Honestly she reminded me of you your first time on the bike. It was cute. Good memory to have with her."

[mermaidsirennikita]

Top 10 Reads: Q1 2023

Wow, the first quarter of the year is over! I hate being here, but we're still alive and when you're still alive there's still hope and yada yada yada. Keep breathing!

This is probably the longest I've gone without a reading slump. I feel like part of this is due to personal progress, as slumps often correspond with mental lows for me, but part of it also likely due to me embracing audiobooks. Curse everyone who said I'd like them being right the whole time!!!

Anyway, I liked a lot of books over the past three months. In fact, I loved many of them. For my monthly wrap-ups, I don't limit myself; I just list every book I rated 4/5 or above. Here, I challenged myself to stick to the ten that made me happiest. Some of them... are not out yet. But hey, what're you gonna do?

My only other rule: no repeat authors, and no listing them in order. I think I do have a #1 favorite out of these books, but I don't want to rank novels in order of preference.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller.

Dude. This one took me by surprise. I'd never read Diana Biller before, and I was blown away by the richness of the setting--late nineteenth century Vienna--and the attention paid to the cast. A lot of good romances don't have great supporting casts; this one does, and they add to the fabric of the love story.

But at its heart, despite the somewhat ambiguous title, Hotel of Secrets is a true blue, swoony romance between a jaded woman consumed by keeping her family's hotel afloat, and a virginal spy who's always been able to keep feelings at arm's length... until he rescues her. Several times. The build up of tension between these characters is hot, it's romantic, and it's just so fucking satisfying when it boils over.

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez.

The best contemporaries are the ones that go full daytime soap, in my opinion. And by God, does this book go balls to the wall daytime. A ruthless billionaire heroine! A prince hero with a genius IQ and a devotion to GROWING GRAPES. A sex/marriage/baby deal!

This book has a lot going for it--a truly unique, "problematic" heroine who can't make herself commit to love, a slowburn punctuated by how intensely hot and heavy our leads get within the first few pages, and such a strong sense of the telenovela that you can vividly picture it playing out in your head. (Except. A lot more graphic than most telenovelas. Shoutout to the scene where our hero gets caught with his head between the heroine's legs. By the paparazzi.)

Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli.

Who was I before reading Mila Finelli? I don't know, and I don't care. Every book in her Kings of Italy series is an absolute killer (about killers) and you should read all of them ASAP. But Mafia Madman, for me, is the creme de la creme. It immediately soared into my top favorite reads ever, and I've had to physically stop myself from picking up my paperback and rereading my favorite scenes again.

It's just got everything--an absolutely insane hero, a heroine determined to break him as much as he's determined to break her, sex scenes that will melt your brain, and a deeply, highly satisfying grovel that gave me everything I could have asked for. For all that it's over the top and sexy and deranged, at the core of this story is two emotionally injured, twisted people finding each other... and realizing that they can't avoid being vulnerable with one another. No notes!

Then Came You by Lisa Kleypas.

I could have also included Again the Magic here, as I read both this year--but I wanted to stick to one. Then Came You is such an unsung hero of Kleypas's backlist, and not just because it features Derek Craven: The Early Years (though that is certainly a bonus--he's such a sad little baby in this one). The hero bUYS HER A BEAR in this book. Plus light bondage! What more can you ask for?

Then Came You is the kind of classic enemies to lovers story that built the foundation for Kleypas's later enemies to lovers classics like It Happened One Autumn. He's cold and mercenary and stubborn in his refusal to love, she's passionate and rebellious and the only person who can get under his skin. This woman literally shows up to a ball dressed to look like Eve--naked, but with a snake running up her body. And does he lose his shit the way you want? Even more so, actually. Not for nothing, but the setup is that he's courting her sister and she's trying to ruin the match. Yes, it does do that much, much better.

The Dragon and the Pearl by Jeannie Lin.

If there's one thing reading Jeannie Lin taught me, it's that Tang Dynasty China is the perfect setting for historical romance. The heavy rules of etiquette, the political strife to raise the stakes, those stakes forcing a capacity for ruthlessness. Here, she gives the perfect villain romance--bringing back the hot, scarred warlord just in time for a kidnapping plot that will render him completely emotionally overcome for a badass heroine.

But our heroine isn't a sword-wielding badass. She's a former emperor's concubine, renowned for her beauty and perfectly cultured. She wins with mind games and charm, and she's all too aware of how dangerous her hero is. The book is the story of two iron-willed people bending for each other, and falling prey to the worst thing that can happen to a couple of badasses: LOVE.

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall (out 4/11/2023, full review to come).

I've become a huge fan of Alexis Hall's approach to historical romances. They're funny, they're super queer, and they are very, very romantic. Something Spectacular piggybacks off the laugh-a-minute Something Fabulous, giving us a story that is even more unique to the subgenre, and just a bit angstier, with a couple of nonbinary leads who connect over living in the gray of their binary society, before forging an emotional connection that.... did make me cry.

I also want to call out how hot this book is. One thing I've noticed about queer historicals especially is that they often sort of... soften the sexuality of their characters. Cut the passion in favor of good vibes. Which I get! But here you get the angst and you get the longing and you get exactly why Orfeo is renowned for their skills (beyond singing) across all of Europe. God, they're... a lot.

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by K.J. Charles.

You know, initially I rated this book a 4.25/5, which is a very strong rating for me. I think I will actually go back and raise it, because I can't get this book out of my head. It's the marshy setting, the criminal element, the rich cast of characters, the "fine?"/"FINE!" push-pull of Joss fuckin' Doomsday and Gareth, a flop who is as relatable as he is messy.

Plus, the setup of this book is so original? Our heroes meet before it really kicks off, become hookup buddies, part on bad terms without knowing each other's proper names, and reunite when one is blackmailing the other in a court of law? Throw in a heavy dose of family drama, hot Illicit Affairs, and so much secondhand embarrassment I could've maybe died on the spot, and you have a winner.

Pippa and the Prince of Secrets by Grace Callaway.

This year, I got into Grace Callaway--and I'm so glad I did! Her books are fun and adventurous and super sexy... sexy in a way a lot of historicals aren't right now, unfortunately. They embody what I want out of a historical romance: high stakes love with a bit of wackiness and a hint of humor, plus bodice ripping.

What makes this book a bit more than all the others for me is the emotionality. All of Grace's books that I've read have emotion, but Pippa and Cull have true bittersweet angst. They knew each other as young teens; they had a near miss; and in the intervening years, they both endured such real trauma and loss. Pippa is more world-weary than many of the other Callaway heroines I've read, and Cull worships her but is also so deeply afraid of being rejected by her. When they get down, they get DOWN, but when they're emotional with one another there's an aching tenderness to it. Also, he has a flute and a gang of child soldiers. So it is wacky.

The Notorious Lord Knightly by Lorraine Heath (out 6/27/23, full review to come).

Lorraine Heath's Counterfeit Scoundrel began her Chessmen: Masters of Seduction series in a way that was elegant and romantic, but not quite as insane as a standard Lorraine Heath. I wondered if she was toning it down a little. Well, wonder no more, because her next release has the high drama we love from Lorraine, as well as great, passionate romance between two people who loved each other five years ago and love each other still.

What makes this book is the interplay between a hero who is truly, deeply sorry and truly, deeply in love, and a heroine who wants to hate him so badly but just can't bring herself to put her heart into it. There's a Secret (or several) and there are laughs--but the plot of this one is less Big Plot and more fabulous character work and hurt feelings and sore hearts and I loved every word of it. Lorraine Heath just knows her fucking shit.

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian.

I'd read (and greatly enjoyed) The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes; but this book is where the magic happened for me In Sebastian's Highwaymen series. Put together a snarky lordling and a smitten--if rough around the edges--ex-highwayman, plus sex and class commentary? You have a winner.

Cat Sebastian's books are always funny, but this is, like, Benny Hill madcap hijinks funny. They're always emotional, but the wounds here somehow hit deeper. They're always smart, but the social commentary in this one is both clever and real. And you have the classic "they're in love but he's too hurt by the world and life to admit it", which is always a banger. So, so good.

#romance novel blogging #book recs #top 10 books of the quarter

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: I'm low-key terrified because I never wrote anything like this before... 🥺 so I hope it doesn't suck? Thanks for the request @hommoturttle I hope its ok!

Summary: just sex. And breeding kink. SMUT 1.6K

Warnings: smut, some dirty talk, the tiniest bit of degradation, breeding kink obvi and some possessive Bucky. 18+ please!! (also idk about you but this gif does ✨things✨ to me - like.. Mr Barnes, stick whatever you want wherever you wantksksksk ok I'm done 🥲)

It would happen after a mission that you went on without him. No matter how used he is to going away and putting himself in danger, his brain refuses to accept that that's your job too. He gets crazy worried, sweats through most of the nights that you're not there to sleep on his chest, snaps at everyone that tells him to calm down, and counts the days until you're back. He's usually able to stand the distance, but not in these scenarios. He always ends up missing you like you've been gone for months, but the way the night you're back unfolds, makes up for everything.

No amount of cuddling, sweet nothings or showers together could possibly make up for the time away like the frantic rounds of sex you always go through as soon as you get back do. And it's always the same, he's on top of you, hovering above your body as his eyes never leave your frame. He wants to see every detail, every inch of your face, every feature that he loves so much. 

It starts crazy and it ends even more so. Foreplay is long forgotten, everything you get is him throwing you on the bed and ripping every piece of clothing that stands in his way. And it's more than enough, the pure need and hunger in his manic blue eyes, has the power to drive you insane in record time.

You're a squirming, wet and needy mess by the time he has you naked on his bed, hands clawing up to him. "Come on, Bucky, I need you"

And it drives him up the walls too. He hates the belt that slows him down, and his shirts never make it out intact. 

Biting down hard on his lower lip as his need gets the best of him, Bucky's breathing passes the threshold of obscene, his buffed chest heaving as he can't help himself.

"Come here, doll" he finally rasps, his voice low and grave as his jeans fall to the floor.

In a moment, he's on top of you, his legs lodged in between yours. Every touch is amplified by the wait and the feeling of his rough hands on your waist is mind-blowing. You squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way closer to him.

"Missed me too, huh?" Bucky grins proudly, gently but sternly grabbing your chin. His thumb rubs along your jawline, his teeth showing as he can't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yes-" you breathe out, melting under his touch. "Missed you so much, Buck."

"Need me?" he keeps teasing, lowering himself so that his lips reach the side of your neck. At first, it's his hot breath that you allow yourself to get drunk on, but when his teeth lewdly sink into your skin, you yelp, your thighs involuntarily closing around his hips.

And you can tell he takes pride in the responses he gets from you. You're sure he feels the goosebumps up your arms, or the way your rib cage shakes with every breath you take. But he keeps going, his greedy hands exploring your naked body, taking your breasts into his palms as he keeps on sucking claim marks into your neck.

"Fuck, Bucky-" you moan, back arching. His lips and his fingers are already too much for you to take, but when the tip of his cock brushes against your thigh, you're all but done. 

"Tell me you need me, doll" he hums, pushing himself up on his left arm. The mattress dips under the weight of his metal hand, and as you look between your bodies, your eyes land on the way he's eagerly fisting his cock in his right hand. You're caged in his hold, and it's the only thing you want.

"You're all I need, Bucky" you cry, your hands softly roaming up his chest. His hair had fallen around his face, framing his features and offering them the required amount of shadow needed to accentuate his carnal desire. Bottom lip wet and lodged between his teeth, he watches you closely, waiting for more.

"Bucky, please-" you continue, uselessly shaking your hips from side to side. "I'm already so wet, I'm such a mess for you sometimes. Just use me, do whatever you want with me, I just need to feel you, Bucky. Deep inside me, please"

He shakes his head in disbelief, hints of bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Such a needy, little thing" he muttered to himself.

With your mind clouded and busy enjoying the build-up, when the tip of his cock connectes to your folds, your eyes snap wide. Your reaction brings a proud grin to Bucky’s lips, but this is just the beginning.

Giving you no time to adjust whatsoever, he slams himself into you, bottoming out as you feel your breath cut short. "Fuck, fuck-" you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

"Be good for me, doll, ok?" Bucky groans against your ear. His body is right on top of yours, fully rocking you against the mattress with every deep and powerful thrust of his hips. "You need to take all of me"

You can feel him up into your chest, your pleasure materializing in the form of tears, coating your eyes for just a short second before running down your temples. 

"Buck-" you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby" he grunts, holding onto your shoulders as he shoves himself deeper. "Deep inside your belly, yeah? Gonna feel me for days"

And you're not that close yet, your brain isn't yet drowning in hormones, so you can think straight, you can form a decent answer - but you refuse to. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, sucking the pleasure his cock forced into your body. Every vein is palpable, your walls closing in around him as if his size isn't already a tad bit more than you'd normally find comfortable. But you love it, he's there, as close as he can get, consuming himself right there with you.

"Fuck-" Bucky grunts, his metal fingers wrapping around the roots of your hair. It's unwashed - a weeks worth of sweat embedded into its fibers but he doesn't care. He only sees you. "I missed you so fucking bad, doll-"

"I'm here, baby-" you coo, your words shaky and barely audible.

You don't know if he heard you, or if he even processed your sentence, he's too caught up.

"You're mine - you're here with me, only mine-" he adds, fervently sucking away at the skin of your neck. "My baby, my angel, mine-" he grunts, emphasising his last word with the help of a ravaging thrust that shakes you to your core.

You cry out, his name burning your throat as you feel him ripping your insides apart.

"Bucky- Buck- I-"

"So sweet-" he cuts you off, moving his head to the other side of your neck. "And only fucking mine. Say it-" he demands.

"I'm-" you gasp, "I'm yours, only yours"

"All mine"

You faintly nod along, vision blurry as you start to lose yourself.

"Say it!" Bucky adds.

"I'm all yours"

"Say it again"

"I'm... all- all yours, Bucky" you manage to mutter before a pleasure filled whine erupts from your throat. "I'm getting close… Bucky, I can't-"

"Easy now-" he moans, slowing down his pace. He comes face to face with you, his damp lips sloppily pressing against yours. He's still balls deep inside your cunt, making the gentle movement of his hips almost unbearable.

Eventually, he slowly tilts your head to the side, burying his face into your hair as he whispers against your ear, "I'm gonna pump you full, yeah? Gonna fill this sweet cunt with my cum, and you, like the good little slut you are, are not gonna let any of it go waste, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Gonna use that pretty cunt of yours to milk my cock dry, yeah?"

You whimper and nodd, frantically trying to get him to pick up his pace. But he isn't having it. When he finally pulls out at that agonisingly slow pace, he captures your lips into another kiss as he slams himself back in.

"Come on, Bucky, fill me up" you cried, involuntarily pulling breaking the kiss, "I wanna feel you inside me"

"Oh, you're gonna feel me inside you alright" he taunted, repeating his movements and pulling all the way out before forcing himself all the way back in. "A little bit of me inside you-" he growls and thrusts again, deeper and harder, "Growing inside you-"

"Holy- fuck!" you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Mine forever, doll-" Bucky grunts, both of you dangerously close the edge, "Yeah?"

"Mhm-" you hum, whiny and all teary eyed with your lips gathered between your teeth.

And then you're all but done - legs tightly wrapped around his middle - every muscle of your body clenching uncontrollably as a spiral of pleasure engulfs your body. And Bucky isn't far behind, your name being the only thing on his lips as he shoots his load deep inside your pussy - careless and irregular, a few last thrusts until he crashes down on top of you.

Although out of breath, as the last waves of your orgasm propagate along your body, you still cling to him. Bucky's face is hidden against your shoulder as he struggles to come down from his high, none of you willing to move even an inch.

"I'm never pulling out" he jokes, and it takes all the energy you have left inside your body to chuckle along.

"Wouldn't ask you to" you laugh, "But you're crushing me so-"

With a grunt, but still with impeccable ease, Bucky wraps his arms around your middle and spins the two of you around, until he's laying on his back with you against his chest. 

"There-" he shrugs placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Problem solved"

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

fantasies ~ ewan mcgregor

word count: 2168

request?: yes!

@victoriaharkness​ “smut with ewan mcgregor when reader doesn't know how to tell him about her sexual fantasies(light bdsm,sir kink type thing) ?”

description: in which her reputation as the innocent one makes it hard for her to tell him all her sexual fantasies

pairing: ewan mcgregor x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two)

One of the best and worst things about having a reputation of being “innocent” was the reactions you got when you told your partners about your kinks.

They weren’t even intense kinks or anything, but the fact that you were into something besides just plain vanilla sex often shocked whoever you were with at the time. You even had one ex tell you he thought you were a virgin before him, which made you laugh in his face. It was safe to say that relationship didn’t last much longer after that.

You had plenty of practice telling your partners about what you were into sexually, and you had definitely gotten used to the wide variety of reaction you got from telling them. However, for some reason, you were still finding it hard to try and tell Ewan about your kinks.

You had never worried about a negative reaction from any of your exes, but with Ewan it was different. Even in the short amount of time that you were together, you knew that he was someone you wanted to be with for the rest of your life. You were sure he wouldn’t judge you for your kinks, but there was still that small part of your brain that was convinced that maybe he would. Maybe he wouldn’t be into them, or maybe he wouldn’t like that you weren’t as innocent as he thought you were. You were terrified of ruining the relationship even though you kept mentally reminding yourself that it wouldn’t be your fault if Ewan wasn’t into the things you liked.

You had been trying to tell him for days, but every time you would build up the courage to ask him you would immediately chicken out again. The longer it took for you to get the words out, the more nervous you became. The anticipation of finally doing it was starting to grow and you were terrified to finally get it out.

When you did finally manage to tell him...well, it wasn’t exactly the best time.

You were both watching a movie at his place. Your nervousness was starting to bubble over, and when a sex scene started in the movie you knew you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m into BDSM.”

Ewan looked at you with confusion and you could feel your face heating up with embarrassment. Good timing, (Y/N).

“What?”

You sighed and looked down at your lap. You couldn’t face him, but you also couldn’t take back what you said. It was out there now, no turning back.

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while,” you started. “But I kept chickening out, and...I guess I couldn’t keep it in for any longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone thinks I’m so innocent in the bedroom because I’m so innocent in public, but the truth is...I’m into BDSM. Like...light BDSM. I like being tied up, sometimes blindfolded and gagged, and choked and spanked, and I like to be called pet or princess, and I like calling my partner sir on certain occasions. I know it doesn’t really seem like much, but it always shocks people when I tell them and I didn’t want to keep it a secret from you for much longer.”

“And you decided now, while we’re watching a movie on the couch, was a good time to tell me?”

You cringed at this. God, you ruined the mood!

“I...I guess having it on my mind plus the sex scene just made keeping the secret too unbearable. I wanted to get it out there and to finally have it off my chest because I’ve been dreading your reaction for days now. Not that I think you’d react badly, but you can never really know how people will take learning that type of thing, and if it’s not something you’re into personally I understand, and - ”

You were cut off by Ewan’s lips roughly pressing against yours. His hands roughly grabbed your body, pulling you onto his lap and holding you tightly against him. You were shocked at first, but found it easy to melt into this kiss. Shivers were running up and down your spine as his hands explored your body.

You tried to deepen the kiss by attempting to slip your tongue into his mouth, but he grabbed your throat and pushed you away. You gasped as his grip around your throat tightened slightly, just enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“Listen to me,” he said, “you will not do anything unless I tell you to, and you will do absolutely everything I say. Do you understand?” You nodded and your eyes widened as his hold tightened slightly again. “Use your words, pet.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Fuck! You could feel your panties becoming more and more damp with every word he said. “Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He kissed you again before picking you up in his arms and heading towards his bedroom, your movie abandoned all together.

He threw you down onto the bed and hovered over you. You wanted nothing more than to lean up and kiss him, or to pull him down on top of you, but you weren’t sure of what type of punishment that would inflict on you.

After a moment, he kissed your forehead and stood. You watched him approach his closet and rummage in it for a moment before coming back with a tie in his hand. He looked down at you as he approached the bed, cupping your cheek with one hand and running his thumb across your lip. Almost instinctively, you took his thumb in your mouth and began to suck on it. He groaned at the action and you could see the bulge in his pants becoming bigger.

Ewan took his hand away from your face and took hold of your shirt, roughly pulling it off and throwing it onto the floor. He then shoved you down onto the bed and took hold of your wrists in his hands. He held them above your head and straddled your body so that you couldn’t move. He began tying your wrists to the headboard, making sure there was no way you’d be able to escape your restraints.

With you officially under his mercy, he knelt between your legs and ran his hands over your exposed upper half. You shivered as his hands ran up from your stomach, specifically coming to stop on your breasts. You let out a whimper as he pinched your nipples between his fingers. He leaned forward, purposely pressing himself between your legs to tease you further.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his lips pressed against your neck, kissing and sucking there until he was sure he had left a hickey on you. He started to move down then, kissing painfully slowly down your body. He kissed and nipped at your boobs, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on them for a while. Your breathing started to increase as he got closer and closer to the place where you wanted him most.

He stopped just above the waistband of your pants, his hands reaching up to grab them but not making any motions to remove them.

“Do you want these gone, princess?” he asked.

“Y-Yes sir,” you stuttered out.

He pulled your pants down your legs, leaving you in just your panties. Ewan kissed your thighs and around your panties, making sure not to kiss you in the one spot that you wanted more than anything. Your head pressed against your pillow as you let out little whimpers. You had to stop yourself from bucking your hips up desperately, knowing that would definitely earn you a punishment.

“Do you want these gone, too?” he asked, pulling your panties aside enough that he could rub your swollen clit. You gasped as you tried to respond, but every time you opened your mouth he would rub a little faster. “Come on, pet, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I-I want you,” you finally managed.

“Where do you want me?”

You moaned as he slipped a finger into your wet pussy, pumping it in and out at a painfully slow pace.

“I want you inside me,” you said. “Fuck, please put your cock so deep inside of me.”

Ewan smirked at this. “Beg some more, princess, and maybe I’ll put my cock in you.”

You almost sighed with frustration. You loved the teasing, but you were becoming so unbearably horny. All you wanted was for Ewan to fuck you until you couldn’t walk properly.

You looked up at him with innocent eyes, knowing that would drive him absolutely insane. “Pretty please, sir, put your cock so deep inside of me and make me cum all over it.”

You tried not to let your satisfaction show when your words got you exactly what you wanted. Ewan’s eyes widened and he wasted no time in pulling your panties off. You moaned as he kissed your wet core once before sitting back on his legs and starting to take his clothes off.

You watched him with anticipation, taking in every inch of the body that you loved to look at. You could feel your arousal growing as he pulled his hard member out. He pulled your legs apart and teased your entrance with his tip.

Your wrists pulled against your restraints as he slowly pushed into you, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and feel his body pressing against yours. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist, helping him to get as deep inside of you as you wanted.

Luckily, he decided he was finished with the teasing. The moment he was deep inside of you, he started moving slowly just to let you adjust to his size inside of you, before his hips started to speed up. His thrusting became rough and the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with your moans and screams of pleasure.

You could feel yourself building up to your orgasm already. Your legs were starting to tremble and you could feel the familiar pressure building in your stomach, threatening to be let go at any moment.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered through moans.

“Not yet, princess,” Ewan said. “You better hold that until I give you permission.”

This just drove you even more wild. You weren’t sure how you were going to keep yourself from just letting go right at that moment. You wondered what Ewan would have in mind as punishment if you disobeyed him.

Part of you wanted to be naughty just to see what he would do. This was a whole new side that you were only just getting to see, you could only imagine what he would have in mind to punish you. But you decided not to explore that part of him just yet. You wanted to savior every moment of this very dominant Ewan.

His thrusts were becoming quicker and you could feel him twitching inside of you. His hand found your throat and he squeezed slightly on it again, bringing back that lightheaded feeling from earlier. You were trying to hold out on your orgasm as much as you could, but it was starting to get too difficult.

“I-I can’t h-hold it,” you told him. “Please, sir, can I cum?”

“You can cum now, princess.”

The words were barley out of his mouth when a warming sensation filled your body. Your walls tightened around Ewan’s length as you came so hard you were sure you were seeing stars. Feeling your orgasm was enough to push him over the edge as well, and you felt him filling you up shortly after.

You whimpered as he pulled out of you, immediately missing his contact. He untied your wrists and laid next to you on the bed. You rolled over and cuddled into his side, your body still shaking from your orgasm.

“Was that what you meant when you were telling me about your kinks?” he asked, a slight smile on his face.

You giggled. “It definitely was. I’m glad you had a positive reaction to it, though.”

“Why would you think I wouldn’t? Out of all the things you could tell me, being into BDSM was definitely the least serious of it all.”

You shrugged. “It usually shocks people when I say it because everyone thinks I’m so innocent. I’ve had past boyfriends leave me for it for one reason or another.”

Ewan shook his head. “Leaving someone because of a mild sexual preference is very silly. I’d never leave you because of that. I’ll just have to hope I live up to whatever fantasies you have.”

You giggled and kissed his cheek. “You live up to every fantasy I’ve ever had, whether you’re into the same stuff that I am or not.”

Ewan smiled back at you. You both settled into the bed and found yourselves drifting off to sleep within moments.

#ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor smut #imagine #one shot #smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[echos-newlegs]

Hello There! I was wondering if you'd write 11 an 13 for Tech, please? I may request some other stuff for my favourite bad batcher and maybe even Rex later, but if you did that one i would be so happy!!! Have fun writing!! “I think I may be falling in love with you, and it scares me.." + “I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.”

What's with you?

Bro he has been on my mind non stop since I read this request. He is literally so cute and I love him. He needs more love 😔 so thank you for sharing this and yes, yes I will be writing a story about this because these ideas you have are ADORABLE-

Tech x Reader: "I think I may be falling in love with you and it scares me.." + "I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand."

Warnings: nothing but fluff

You and Tech out of the bad batch were two of the closest. You were a no body before you met the bad batch. You studied things, a scientist of sorts. Though nothing official. You did do a lot of things when it came to researching and trying to come up with theories for why things happened. Plus you were good with your hands when it came to building things. So, instinctively. Hunter took you in, along with everyone else.

You didn’t really have a family. Where you grew up you were lucky you were still even alive. Though, Tech was obviously thankful. He cared for you so much. Even just the after the first time you spoke with him. You were shy at first, but after some warming up you were rather obnoxious. Plus. You knew your stuff, and the two of you could have a conversation on everything and anything for hours on end.

Useless information was your game, and you loved that you finally had someone to share it with.

It didn’t take long for you both to develop feelings. You were both fairly good at hiding it though. You were never one that was good with expressing feelings. The fear of abandonment and ruining the friendship you had always lurked in your conscious.

Tech was just scared. He had never felt this way before. Sure he’s had a couple hookups from 79’s, but never anything that mad him feel like you do. How you make him smile anytime even just a thought of you crosses his mind. How he gets butterflies in his stomach from just your laugh.

Or how his mind lurks and picks up the things you like. From how you enjoy your caf, to your favorite candies or flowers.

Or the thoughts that lurk within his mind when he’s alone and no one else is around.

He was so scared of all of it though. He was a clone. A defective one for Makers sake! He couldn’t like someone when his sole purpose in life was to fight and then be killed off like every other clone on existence. No thought to it, no remorse. No remembrance.

Though, one day when Hunter caught him staring at you while you were target practicing with Crosshair. Hunter told him something that made him a little less scared of the whole ordeal.

“You know it’s okay to like y/n, right?” Tech was shocked by his words. Blush creeping up the back of his neck. “Ah-what? I don’t- don’t be ridiculous.” He would stammer. A nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Vod, don’t lie to me, I see the way you look at them.” He spoke, “I can sense the way you both feel for each other. Why don’t you do something about it? Live your life, enjoy what you can.” And before he could protest or ask anything Hunter was walking off. Leaving him to ponder.

Both.

It was simple. But it had the gears in his brain turning. Fast enough he nearly felt nauseous. ‘Both? As in y/n has feelings, too?’ He had to be kidding, right? Right. Who would like someone like.. Well like him.

Weeks had passed since that incident and he still thought about it. Hunter shooting him looks when it was just you and Tech talking to one another. Or when you two would sit next to one another. You hadn’t noticed, but Tech did.

So one day out on the field, Hunter had set up the plans where you went with Tech. Tech knew what he was trying to do. He was for sure it wouldn’t work. He was horrible with words when it came to flirting. Plus he knew for a fact that he would get nervous and stammer. Or jumble his words.

The two of you were in a lab like area. Bottles and beakers scattered around. Though your guy’s main interest was the large computer system towards the back. The data base that had all the information you guys needed.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair were out being your distraction while the two of you got to work on hacking into the system. You taking over for a bit while tech worked on something else. You could tell he was nervous, but you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like him. He was normally always comfortable around him. It made you wonder if you did something wrong?

Once the files were transferred Tech grabbed what you two needed, and then your hand. Pulling you out of the room and back to the exit.

You were internally screaming. His fingers laced around your hand. His was a bit larger than yours, and you had never realized it. Not until now. Your heart racing a marathon. Techs was, too.

You let go when he did. Which was when the two of you made it back to the group. “You get it?” Hunter asked, and you nodded. Tech speaking a quick, ‘affirmative.’ You and the rest of the boys heading out of the facility and booking it for the ship.

No use sticking around and waiting for more droids to be deployed.

Hours had passed since the mission, and you were sitting on your bunk after a short shower. You normally were able to relax in the shower, but now? No, you couldn’t. You were still in shock by Techs actions. He was in the cockpit. Flying the ship, and you wanted to ask about it so badly, but you were anxious. It had to be a mistake. You were overthinking it. You had to be.

Though, you were walking to the cockpit without thinking. When you realized it you were already at the door. No use turning back now. You entered, and saw him dozing off in the seat. Ship in hyperdrive. “Oh sorry,” you blurted when he looked up with a tired gaze. “Oh, no, you’re fine.” Tech spoke a bit quickly. “Did you need something?” He asked, moving his goggles to rub his eyes. Then pulled them back down.

You were tempted to back out. Say you were just looking for him and head back for your bunk, but your curiosity got the best of you. “Can I sit with you?” He nodded. Shifting in his seat as you sat in the copilot seat. The door shutting behind you.

He was watching you now. His own curiosity striking him. Thoughts running through his own mind as to why you were there and what you wanted. “I just uhm.. you licked your lips and sighed. Looking down to your hands. Which were fidgeting in your lap. Then back to him. “Why’d you grab my hand earlier?”

You saw him freeze up, and you grew more nervous. “I mean, I don’t mind but you just- you’ve never grabbed my hand before.” You spoke, fidgeting more. “You always just tell me to follow you, I was just wondering, is all.” You rambled. Looking to his eyes, you could practically see his brain turning.

“Well..” he spoke, clearing his throat. Then turning to look back out the front of the ship. “In all honesty, y/n, I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand.” The bluntness of his own statement shocked the both of you.

You were surprised, and you caught yourself staring off into space, figuratively. Eyes looking back up to Techs face when he looked back to you. Catching his eyes with your own. “Really?” You asked, and watched as his tanned skin turned nearly pink. Your own skin it’s own rosy shad as well. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

You frowned a bit at the apology. Reaching over to place your hand on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize, Tech.” You added, watching as he looked down to your hand then back to your face. “I told you, I didn’t mind.” You grew a bit sheepish. Retracting your hand a bit at your next words. “I liked it, actually.”

He reached up to grab your hand before you could pull it away fully. Turning in his seat to face you completely now. Squeezing at your hand a bit and you looked back with a curious gaze. “Really?” You smiled at the look of hope and shock written in his eyes. “Yeah, really.”

You both stared at each other like love sick teens. Until tech looked down to your hands. Breaking the gaze. “Can I tell you something now?” You nodded, watching as he played with your fingers anxiously. “Of course, what is it, Tech?”

“I think I may be falling in love with you,” his voice was softer and more timid than before. “And it scares me.” He looked up to you, with worried eyes. You were at a loss for words, to say the least. Mouth slightly agape, and his eyes lowered again.

“I went too far, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to upset you,” he let go of your hand and you reached up to place it on his cheek. Shaking your head with a small smile. A smile that screamed, ‘I love you, too.’ “No, Tech, you didn’t go too far. Tech, I think I’m, no— I know I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m just,” you trailed off. “I’m not the best with stating feelings, I have had issues with past relationships and I didn’t want to scare you.” You admitted, and he leaned into your touch. Watching you carefully.

“I’ve just never met anyone else who makes me feel the way you do.” The words made you melt. Leaning forward to hug the other, kissing his cheek. “Well, I’m glad you told me,” he chuckled. Pulling you out of your seat and over to sit on his lap. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “If I waited any longer Hunter would have went insane.” That made you chuckle a bit. Smiling softly as he placed a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

“What does this make us then?” You pulled back to look at him, grinning softly as you rested your head against his forehead. “I guess.. an item? Is that what they call it? Partners, lovers..” your trailed on, and he giggled a bit at that. “I like lovers,” you were internally squealing at that. Smiling as he leant in and pressed a short and soft kiss to your lips. Humming contently. “Lovers it is.”

#bad batch x reader #star wars #star wars writing #the bad batch #the clone wars #writing #tech x reader #tech #tech bad batch #bad batch tech #tech the bad batch

[relax-and-read-on]

FINALLY ANOTHER MAGNUS/PERTY SHIPPER. I was starting to think I was the only one, the fandom is sleeping so hard on these two.

HELLO BESTYYYY

Seriously drop in my DM it's so lonely on the Pert/Mag raft ToT

To lure you out, here, a few headcanons about my two nerdy disaster

- Perturabo, in any and all scenario, is ALWAYS the first one to get a crush. Always. He see this brilliant, unique red man, who defie everyone to be himself, who love knowledge and magic, who is totally unique among the brothers and give no fuck?!? Ofc he's smited. Heart? Snatched.

- The fact that Magnus actually recognise his talents and will 100% praise him for what he do??? Pure crack cocaine for Pert brain. Shit, he could have probably just twirled his red hair at him and go "actually I think you should lower your casuality rate Brother! I know you can do it, your so smart!" And just bat his eyelashes. Pert would have found a way to never loose a single space marine ever again.

- Perturabo has a praise kink. Magnus has a worship complex. This work in a perfect feedback loop. Perty gift something/do something for Magnus, who feel flattered and get a massive ego boost, and praise Pert, who now has the NEED to do MORE to get MORE PRAISE...

-UST. So much fucking ust, it's ridiculous. Perturabo has big virgin incel energy, and Magnus was never preoccupied by matter of the flesh before. They would dance around each other for YEARS. Fulgrim is watching from the sideline and going insane.

-After the heresy, they stay close, maybe even closer than before. For fuck sake, they get 10 000 years of eternity to spend in the warp, and both are high key depressed. Ofc they are gonna continue with the UST. At this point Snake-Fulgrim is probably just feeding on the blue balls energy they exude.

-If they ever get somewhere, Magnus has to do the first step. Confession, kiss- anything, really. He does do the first step, and very timidly, Pert follow. Their relationship, especially early one, would be tender af.

-Pert is not a reasonable guy. At all. Magnus mention. Exactly ONCE (1) that the Golden Palace on Terra is kinda neat? "I can build you a better palace on Propero. Bigger too. Rogal has no concept of design yes it is perfectly acceptable to build a palace the size of a montain range for my bf to show off to my Mortal Enemy Magnus stop laughing >:("

-Touch starved Pert!! And magnus is a lil shit, and 100% use that fact. If he wants to get his way, he will gently massage the base of his skull, and watch pert melt into a puddle.

-Their legions mesh... Surprisingly well?!? There's something to be said about laying siege when you have a bunch of wizard helping you, or having actual competant hand to hand fighter protecting your ass when your doing some fancy ritual.

-Just. Pert picking up Magnus like a bag of Potato every time his beloved idiot gets too prideful and just HAS to have The Last Word with Leman... Magnus would never admit it, but he started taking a smaller form around Pert, because he like being enveloped by his huge ass arms.

God I could continue for DAYS with them lmao.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #wh40k #primarch #magnus the red #perturabo #they are in love your honor #my second fav magnus ship #Magnus/kitten still win but they win EVERYTHING so it doesn't really count

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 4:

You’re paranoid. 

Terribly, terribly paranoid, and even if you’re aware of it, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Nothing you can do to quell the anxiety that wells up every time another person enters your space. Every time their skin nearly brushes yours, even accidentally, just for a split second.

It’s maddening. Nearly debilitating the way you’re flinching away from people. You can see your co-workers notice too, fellow nurses suddenly giving you odd looks every time you reject a high five. Even when you’re wearing your gloves. It’s just a panic reaction at this point- a fixation on trying to keep your quirk as least exhaustive an experience as it can be. 

On one hand, you still really dislike Bakugou- nearly hate him for bringing it up to you- but, on the other hand, he did manage to figure it out. He somehow managed to figure out what you never could, and all in a matter of minutes from your relatively short interactions. It made you think that maybe he could be really smart- if he didn’t spend so much time killing his own brain-cells with every juvenile insult he spewed at you. 

You wondered if that was just him, or he really did hate you that much. Surely he couldn’t be that much of a monster to other people, right? Right? 

Wrong. 

You remember Kirishima, how he apologized for Bakugou nearly the second he walked through the door. It hits you then that you’re definitely not the first person he’d seemed to mercilessly terrorize- you’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

Actually, on second thought, maybe it makes you feel worse. No, it definitely makes you feel worse. So much worse, in fact, that just the sight of his face nearly sends you into an irrational rage. Even now, weeks after the last time he’d personally ruined your day, you were still mad. Still angry. Still cursing every time you saw those red eyes on every billboard, newspaper, and billboard in town.

Well, lucky for you, you didn’t have to look at those printed eyes anymore. Not when the real ones were right in front of you- scaring you shitless as you leave the hospital. 

You had left the hospital from the back exit, tired and crabby from your late shift, grumbling as you stepped out into the alleyway. You’d hardly seen him, just the slightest glimpse of movement behind the tall dumpsters, before he’s practically in your face.

“Jesus!” You gasp, curling your arms around your stomach. Your legs feel like jelly. “Don’t do that! Scared me half to death!”

“Oh, chill the hell out, ya fuckin’ baby. You’re fine.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, falling into step next to you.

He looks worse for the wear, just like every other time you’ve seen him, exhaustion coloring his complexion something sickly. There’s an angry purple bruise covering his cheek, a few cuts, and even more bruising dotting his scarred knuckles. A tiny, vindictive part of you thinks it serves him right, but you keep it to yourself. You’re better than that.

You want to be nice to him, truly you do, but he’s made it pretty hard. Concerning you, Bakugou’s pretty much dug his grave at this point, and he only makes it worse with his next works.

“You need to do something for me.” He orders suddenly. “Now.”

“A-are you asking me? For help? Is that what this is?”

“What? No- obviously fucking not.” He sneers, nostrils flaring. “Why the hell would I go and do something like that. That’s stupid. Weak.”

“Oh. Okay. So then two seconds ago, when you were telling me that I ‘need’ to do something for you, what was that?” You squint your eyes at him, eyebrow twitching with annoyance. “That wasn’t you asking for help?”

“No. ‘s an order.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay- an order. Because you’re totally in a position to make those.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” You spin on your heels, nearly crashing into his chest since he followed so closely behind you. Still, you figure the promixity is all the better for gesturing, so you don’t miss a beat, waving your hands emphatically. “My shift just ended, alright? That means I’m not on the clock, and you’re not a patient. I don’t have to suck it up and help you unless I want to. Understand?”

Bakugou seems to bristle at your tone, eyes narrowing as his lip curls. You just try to shrug it off. If he wants to be mad in the middle of the alley, fine- but you’ve had a long day and you’re going home. You spin around again, walking briskly into the street, and it takes him a few moments to catch up.

“I told you, Bakugou, I’m not helping you just because you tried to order me to.”

“I know.”

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Walking.”

It’s his tone; that same needling, challenging edge to it that has your blood boiling. If anyone else said that, you’d probably believe it. But he’s not just walking and Bakugou’s smirk makes that very clear.

“No. You’re following me.”

“Same fuckin’ direction. Sue me, leech.”

The street lamps cast spots that yellow out his already pale skin, and the longer you walk the more withered he looks. Bakugou seems utterly burnt out, and when you look really close, all his features are slumped. It’s a stark contrast to Dynamite’s turbo-charged public persona, and it makes you wonder why he’d even let you see him like this at all. You figure whatever it is must be making him pretty desperate.

Suddenly that same, sinking, sympathetic feeling has you letting up a bit. You slow your pace, catching his gaze as you internally curse your own soft heart.

“Okay. Fine. What’s up. What can I help you with?”

Bakugou squints his eyes, almost like he doesn’t believe you. You think that’s a little fair- most times, even you can hardly believe all that you’re capable of forgiving.

“Sleep.” He finally says, bitten out tightly under his breath. 

“You want me to help you sleep?”

“Yes. Obviously.” 

“Not obvious.” 

“Would be if you weren’t such a shitty nurse.”

“If that’s supposed to be a dig- save it.” You roll your eyes, trying to tamper down the irritation. “I did notice. That you look tired. Just didn’t mention it out of kindness, so don’t think you can start bringing my skills into question.” 

You turn down another side street, and Bakugou follows. There’s less light so you miss the way his eyes scan the lurking shadows; intense and immediate, like a habit he can’t help himself from indulging in. 

“You really live around here?” He suddenly asks, voice low and gruff.

“Yep. In the apartment complexes just up there.” You point off into the distance. “Why-”

“And your shift always end this late?”

“Yes?”

“God,” He laughs something disbelieving under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. “I was fuckin’ right. You really are the stupidest goddamn person walking the planet.”

“That’s- Do you ever think about your words? Seriously!” You huff, curling your fists. You hope it’ll quell your sudden urge to hit him. “Just because you think it, doesn’t mean you should say it! And who the hell are you to judge anyway-”

“You’re fuckin’ asking to be attacked. That’s stupid. ”

“By who?”

“Weirdos, idiot.”

“You’re the weirdo! You’re the one following me home right now!”

“I’m not following you-”

“Really? You’re not? Because right now, the way you’re walking? Maybe all of two steps behind me? On a dark street? At night? Sort of seems like creepy following is exactly what you’re doing!”

“I told you, you need to do something for me. Not leaving till you do.” He grumbles, digging a bruised knuckle into his temples. “And keep it the fuck down. Your screaming sounds like a dying animal.”

“My-” You seethe for a moment, hardly able to stand his attitude. Then you take a breath because you prided yourself on being a kind person, and kind people do not kill national heroes- even when they’re being asses. “You know, it is almost unbelievable how bad you are at asking for help.”

“Told ya, already. ‘m not fuckin’ asking for help.” 

“Then why are you even here bothering me? Go bother someone else!”

“If fuckin’ anyone else could do anythin’, believe me, I’d go to them instead.”

“God, do you even understand how rude that is?” You ask him incredulously, hand grasping at the door to your apartment building. “No, seriously, are you even aware of what you sound like to other people?”

“Not my fuckin’ problem that other people are sensitive.” 

Your eyes bulge at that, mouth nearly dropping in disbelief. You couldn’t believe him. You just couldn’t believe that a single person could possibly go through life with that callous of a mentality. It was insanity. Pure insanity. 

“So, leech, you gonna put me to fuckin’ sleep or not?” 

Just kidding- that was insanity. That sentence alone was proof of just how ridiculous your life had gotten since he’d crash landed into it. 

Bakugou seems to realize his words simultaneously, his cheeks flushing red under the outdoor lights. You almost laugh, but then he’s glaring, eyes sternly set and murderous. For a moment, you really believe he was gonna blow you up right where you were standing. 

“Say a goddamn word. Do it. I fuckin’ dare you. Leech.” He sneers. “Try me.”

“At this hour? No, uh, no thanks.”

Bakugou does seem to relax at your joke, albeit begrudgingly. He drops his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and clears his throat. “Now, seriously, you gonna fuckin’ do it or not?”

A part of you wants to say no- to hold your gift over his head, to lord it just out of reach until he figures out how to not insult you with every breath. Then you think of your job, of all the civilians who come in swearing up and down that Dynamite was a hero. And you believe them, truly, but you think that Bakugou has a long way to go. An especially long way.

But, even so, your fingers are itching again in your gloves. There’s that urge coursing through your veins, your thoughts a constant loop of heal, help, save and so it’s decided. Quickly. Almost like it was never even a question in the first place- and, knowing yourself, you suppose it never really was.

“Fine. I will. On one condition.”

“Condition? When the fuck did I say it was a negotiation. It’s not.” 

“It is and I’ll tell you why.” You spin to face him completely, jumping back when you find him much closer than expected. Your retreat till your back hits the door, but you feel no less cramped than before. “You need me. You do. Don’t bother denying it because you wouldn’t be here otherwise. And the funny thing is, I would’ve done it! Would’ve done it entirely free of charge if you just asked nicely, and-”

“Will you get to the fuckin’ point already?”

“See! That! That’s why there’s a condition! Because you’re needlessly rude! All the time from what I’ve seen. And that’s got to change. Especially if you’re gonna ask for my help more than just this one time.” 

“God- how many fuckin’ times do I need to make this clear to you? Hah?” Bakugou growls, leaning in even more. You can see it in his wild eyes- he’s trying to scare you, crowding you against the door. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you- You don’t make the fuckin’ rules here.” 

“In this I do.” You swallow nervously, trying not to let your intimidation show. “So you’re gonna listen. My condition is this- if you want me to help you, then you have to learn to play nice. That means no names, no insults, no threats, no complaints, and no attitude. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” 

Bakugou swears under his breath, eyes blazing as he holds his stare. Truthfully, it makes you nervous, but you’re not one to back down. At least, not when there’s no threat of job loss involved. So you just squint back at him, jutting your jaw out in defiance. There’s a tense few seconds of silence, his eyes searching, but then he backs off. Nostrils flaring like a bull, Bakugou relents. 

“Fuckin’ fine. Whatever. Jesus.” He swears, hand curling into a fist at his side. “If you’re gonna be such a bitc-”

“I said, no names, Bakugou.”

He just rolls his eyes, face so very pinched, and you briefly wonder if he’s going to explode. There’s anger as he suddenly shoves you away from the door, yanking it open and letting himself into the building. Then he’s stomping through the lobby, and you’re hardly able to catch up by the time Bakugou stops in front of the elevator. 

“What fuckin’ floor, leech?”

“Once again, I said no names. None. Especially not that one.” You tell him sternly, trying to keep your voice down. “And you didn’t agree. You’re not following me and I’m not helping you unless you agree.”

If possible, you think Bakugou’s expression grows even more irritated, his eyes widening as he sets his jaw. Another few seconds pass, and when he sees you won’t relent, Bakugou nods. It’s tight and strained, stunted like the acquiescence physically pains him. 

“God, you’re lucky I’m nice.” You tell him, nearly stabbing the elevator button as you press it. “Really lucky.”  

“And you’re lucky I don’t have enough energy to beat the shit out of you right now.” 

“No threats, Bakugou. You agreed.” You say easily, stepping into the elevator as it opens. 

“Had to. Because your fuckin’ terms are bullshit.” 

“Hey, no complaints. You agreed to that too.” 

You think you hear something strangled leave his mouth, but it’s swallowed up by the sound of the elevator ascending. 

Now that you’re standing in better lighting, you can see Bakugou’s face clearly. He looked bad before, but he looks worse now. There wasn’t just one bruise on his face, there was multiple- his jaw colored burgundy and his nose and lip split open. There was no blood, but there wasn’t a lot of scabbing either. It was new. These injuries were new.

You think back to that first visit- when he told you he never really got hurt. You wonder what’s been going so wrong for him lately. It seemed like all he’d done since you’d met him was get hurt. 

“Stop fuckin’ staring.”

“I-I’m not. Not like that.” You say. “I’m assessing. You’re gonna need a butterfly bandage, on your nose- skin moves too much. And a cold compress for your jaw. Maybe some disinfectant on your lip. Probably should get your knuckles wrapped too and-”

“Jesus, I fuckin’ get it.”

You roll your eyes, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings. You walk out into the hallway, Bakugou trailing behind you like a shadow. It’s not until you’re at your door, twisting your key into the lock, that you pause.

You’re about to enter your apartment, with Bakugou of all people. A guy you’re not even sure can tolerate you. And yet you’re doing it- because he needs help. Because he looks like walking death and you’ve got a first aid kit under your bathroom sink. Because he’s pretty much proved himself to be an irredeemable asshole, but yet you still can’t bring yourself to leave him out in the cold.

Because you’re an empath, and that, by default, makes you an idiot.

You turn the key. Bakugou, to his credit, looks a little uneasy, but then you’re waving him through the door, and pushing it shut behind him. 

“So, you wait here.” You gesture towards your couch, moving aside a few pillows to make him room to sit. “I’m gonna go get all that stuff I talked about.”

“So, what, you’re just like playing fuckin’ nice nurse again, now?”

“Bakugou. No attitude please- I am nice, okay? All the time. Or, at least when others are nice to me.” You say, levelling him with an unimpressed look. “And even if they’re not, I still don’t like seeing them hurt. Not if I can do something about it.”

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help.”

“No, but you need it. And since you’re too stubborn to ask for it, I’m just gonna have to force it on you.”

“Do you even fuckin’ hear yourself?” Bakugou prickles, voice rising. “Acting like a goddamn savior. Like you’re so fuckin’ good and holy. It’s bullshit.”

“It’s not.” You say flatly. Then you’re pivoting on your heels, leaving him behind and you grab the first aid kit. You open the bathroom door, calling over your shoulder. “And if you have such a problem with it, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here.”

You hear Bakugou swear again, so angry and seething that you almost believe he’ll take you up on your offer; but then you hear footsteps across the floor, the creaking of your couch.

You reach under your sink, pulling out the kit and a few extra rags for a compress. When you look in the mirror there’s exhaustion lacing your features, your eyes worn and dark with bags. The sight makes a part of you want to forget it all- makes you want to surrender to the ache in your bones and tell him to leave; but that’s just a small part. The larger part is telling you that you’re not spent until you’re unconscious, and that right now, Bakugou looks a whole lot worse than you feel. It’s telling you to hurry up and help him and you agree. 

When you walk back out, supplies in hand, Bakugou’s slumped on your couch. He’s got his head tilted over the back, one hand resting on his stomach and the other thrown over his eyes. He shifts at the sound of your approach, dropping his hand and as blinks blearily. You think his eyes look a little duller than before- less like raging wildfire and more like smothered embers. If you didn’t know any better it would look like begruding acceptance- but this was Bakugou, and you knew better.

“So,” You start, setting all of your things down on the couch next to him. “You wanna go to sleep now? Or wait until after I fix up pretty much the entirety of your face?” 

He looks at you unsurely, eyebrows creasing.

“Wait, actually- how are you planning to get home?” You continue, hands on your hips. “Where do you even live? Around here? Close? Because you were out in like, 10 minutes, maybe, the last time I touched you, so it’s gotta be close. You live close right? Because-”

“God, cool it with the fuckin’ word vomit. Shit’s annoying. Shut up.” He grumbles. “I’m sleeping here.”

“Who decided? You?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Bakugou.” You balk, striding closer to the back of your couch. You lean over him, forcing him meet your eyes. “This is what I’m talking about! With the learning to play nice thing! I would’ve let you stay here, I would’ve, had you asked. You can’t just bulldoze your way into my house and refuse to leave!” 

“Yeah? ‘n just what the fuck are you gonna do about it if I do?” He scoffs, curling his lip as he snarls. “Nothing. Because you’re so fuckin’ nice, right?”

“Don’t say it like that. It’s not a bad trait and I won’t have you insulting it. I’m not embarrassed of who I am.” You try to work through your frustration, centering yourself with a deep breath. “Look, bottom line is, ask next time. Or I’m not helping you until you do.” 

“Fine. Whatever.”

You try to shrug off his petulant response, taking another calming breath as you shuck off your gloves. You replace them with latex ones from the kit, pulling the material over your fingers as you grab the antiseptic wipes. You decide to start around the cut on his nose. It’s the largest and widest, spanning over the entirety of his bridge and into his right cheek. It’s a nasty thing, deep and red, all exposed nerves beneath a thin scab and you can tell it hurts him. Bakugou fights to keep from wincing, eyes scrunching slightly as you wipe the remnants of dirt and oil from his skin. 

“This from another villan?” You ask calmly, finding an easy peace in performing familiar tasks. “One today?”

“Cuts are from today. Bruises were yesterday.”

Blinking down at him, you’re a little surprised by how easy his answer was. You expected him to fight, to be difficult just because he could, but Bakugou wasn’t doing that. He was lying relatively and still and sated under your fingertips, the only sign of any tension are his minutely pinched eyebrows. Briefly, you check your gloves- for a moment there you were sure you’d accidentally touched him.

“Oh. Okay.” You reply, taking a small butterfly bandage from your kit. You press it over the cut with gentle pressure. “How’s the other guy look?”

“Fuckin’ terrible. Beat ‘em to hell.”

“I’m sure you did.” You snort, moving on to clean the cut on his lip. “Hey, you wanna know something?”

Bakugou peeks a red eye open, studying your face above him. He nods.

“I actually end up treating a lot of your victims, you know.” 

“Criminals. Not victims.”

“Mhm. Sure. Well, either way, they’re always covered in burns. Mostly minor, but sometimes pretty nasty ones.” You try to keep your voice light, even and steady as you dab at his lip. “Honestly, at this point, I’m pretty sure you’re entirely responsible for the hospital’s chronic burn-cream shortage.”

Bakugou does seem to smile at that, exhaling through his nose as his eyes flutter briefly. “Wouldn’t be fuckin’ short if people just stopped tryin’ to pull stupid shit all the time. ‘s not my fault they’re so fuckin’ bad at running away.” 

“Bakugou.” You balk, unable to keep the laugh from bubbling out your lips. “You can’t say that!’ 

“Why the fuck not? Hah? It’s true.” 

“Because! You’re supposed to be playing nice, remember?”

“Yeah. To you.” He mumbles, voice rough and raspy. “Because you fuckin’ schemed your way into forcing me. They didn’t.” 

“Okay- First, I’m like, pretty sure schemed and forced are the same thing, so we definitely don’t need to say them both. It’s just overkill. Second, that’s a borderline insult, so I’m gonna need you to watch your mouth. And third,” You cradle his jaw in your fingers, turning it to the side. “How the hell did you manage to get a bruise behind your ear?”

“I don’t know- probably the same way you somehow managed to become a nurse; even with such shitty fuckin’ bedside manner. You suck, leech.”

Your jaw drops. 

“Bakugou!”

He cracks his eyes open, something small and pleased settling at the corner of his mouth. There’s almost as much venom in his voice as before but his eyes are softer now. They’re kinder, crinkling just slightly at the edges. 

He’s joking. You realize. He doesn’t actually mean it. Not this time.

“You dick.” You reprimand, flicking his hairline lightly. “You absolute dick.”

His eyes just seem to grow a little brighter at that, just for a second, and then he’s shutting them again. There’s still a smirk on his face though- one you’d swear you’d slap off if he wasn’t actually being somewhat pleasant right now. For once in his life, it seemed. 

“Alright,” You announce, rounding the couch quickly. “Your knuckles look just as bad so give ‘em.”

“No thanks.”

“It wasn’t really a suggestion.”

“I don’t need anymore of your pity help, leech.”

“It’s not pity. Not even a little bit.” You sigh. “Look, I know you’re not gonna understand this, but I seriously cannot chill the hell out without at least trying to take care of people. My quirk makes my fingers literally itch when I see injuries. They itch and they don’t stop itching until I do something about it. Helping people, healing people, is hard-wired into me- it’s as much something I do for me as it is something I do for others.” 

Bakugou’s eyes widen at that. He sits a little straighter, fists clenching as he presses them into the cushions. A few beats pass and then he’s grumbling, throwing himself back as he thrusts both of his injured knuckles forward.

“God, you’re so fucking irritating.” He gripes. “If you’re gonna be such a weirdo about it, then get the hell to it already.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead kneeling next to your coffee table and settling on the ground. You take his hands in yours, bending all his fingers to make sure nothing is broken. When nothing is, you look up at Bakugou, planning to tell him the good news, but he’s already looking at you. Your eyes meet, and he blinks, once, twice, before averting his eyes quickly. You think that maybe he blushes too, but he turns his head so sharply you’re almost convinced you imagined it.

You just try to shrug it off, focusing your attention back on his hands. You notice how warm they are again, nearly feverish and strangely unblemished. When you start rubbing bruise cream over knuckles, kneading the joints between your fingers, Bakugou sighs slumps back into the couch. He closes his eyes once more.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No. Can’t. Fuckin’ told ya already.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me why.” You set his hands back on the couch, moving instead to unravel a bandage. “Not that I won’t help you, but have you tried any other remedies? Melatonin? Or lavender? Maybe chamomile? Any of those?”

“Mhm. Falling asleep isn’t the problem.”

“Then what is?” 

 He opens his eyes, squinting at you from above. “None of your fuckin’ business.” 

“Bakugou, I’m trying to help here.”

“I don’t want-”

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want it. Or you don’t want to rely on it. I get it. But you wouldn’t have even came here if you didn’t absolutely need it, right?” You insist, grabbing his hands into yours again. “God, you know, I’ve had toddlers who were more cooperative than you. Why’re you so difficult?”

“I’m not fuckin’ difficult.”

“No. You’re difficult. Very difficult.” 

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying. Do me a favor and go back to being nice.” 

“Nope. Sorry. Pretty sure you didn’t like me then either.” You start wrapping the bandage around his knuckles, taking extra care to apply the right pressure. “And I was only nice to you because I was working, you know. I’m only actually nice to the people who deserve it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes at that.

You finish wrapping the bandage, securing it into place with a bit of medical adhesive. All things considered, Bakugou looks better than before. Or at least, better than the death incarnate he’d been portraying himself as.

“All done.” You smile, turning away to start packing up your supplies.

“Finally. Took ya fuckin’ long enough.” 

“God, you are literally devoid of manners, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. ‘s part of not bein’ an absolute bitch.”

You gawk, spinning around to face him. Bakugou’s relaxed into your couch, arms laid across the back leisurely as he smiles. There’s that same softness to his eyes from before, the crinkling just at the edges.

“Wow.” You scoff, smiling sarcastically. “You really think you’re so funny don’t you?” 

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Yeah. Because you’re fuckin’ brainless.”

“Brainless? Me? Swear to god, you only know, like, three words and all of them are probably swears!” 

Bakugou just shrugs, looking abnormally pleased. Content even. You figure that’s probably right for someone like him- only happy when everyone around him is devolving into chaos.

“Actually, you know what, I think I’m done yelling for the night.” You say, shucking your gloves off. You wiggle your fingers at him, a smirk plastered across your face. “I think it’s time you’re euthanized, don’t you?”

Bakugou just blinks, minutely shrinking away from you.

“Because you said you wanted me to put you to sleep, right? To put you down. Like a dog.” You continue, nearing him, coming close even as his lip curls up. Bakugou is glaring fully now, fists clenched, and you stop just a few inches out of his reach. “Or, you know, in ruder terms- not a dog, but a bitch.”

Bakugou snarls, lunging at you as you duck away. He’s fast but you’re faster, vaulting behind your couch to create some distance. There’s fire in his eyes, blazing and hot in his irises, but it isn’t scary. If you look close enough, you’re almost sure it’s just warmth. That same rare amusement from earlier.

“You leech. Swear to fuck I’ll make you regret that. Say your goddamn prayers!” 

“Touch me and you’ll fall asleep!” You tease. “Or I’ll use my quirk and see into your brain. So I guess it’s more of a ‘pick your poison’ for you, really.” 

“It’ll be the same for you.” Bakugou growls, hands grasping the back of the couch as he leans in towards you. “Open casket or closed, it’s still gonna be your fuckin’ funeral.” 

“Really?”

“Really. Leech.”

“No thanks.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘no thanks’,” Bakugou mimics your voice, his features twisting. “I’m killing you. You’re dead. You don’t get a choice.” 

“No, I really think I do.”

“And just what the fuck makes you so goddamn confident?”

“This. You not attacking me.” You smile easily, voice daring as you stare right back at him. “If you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Isn’t that right, Dynamite?” 

The name sends Bakugou recoiling, shrinking backwards and scoffing in outright shock. You watch him stumble, legs hitting your coffee table and nearly causing him to fold. He recovers quickly though, albeit with his cheeks flushing wildly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

“Nah. Thanks for the offer though.” You smile brightly, before throwing your arms above your head and yawning widely. “As fun as that was, I’m pretty tired. You ready to fall asleep, yet?”

“Jesus fuck, yes. That’s the entire goddamn reason I’m even here. Idiot.”

“No name calling. You agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to shit.”

“You did.” You affirm. “Now, c’mon, like last time, hold your hand out.” 

With surprisingly little dramatics or resistance, Bakugou listens. He thrusts one of his bandaged hands forward as he sits on the couch again. When you touch his fingers, you feel that faint warmth again. Like fire and embers coursing through your bloodstream. It’s uncomfortable, a relentless sensation that has you cringing. You briefly wonder what it would be like to always live with it. Like Bakugou seems to. 

His eyes flutter shut just like last time, and you can see the way he staggers. It’s like the fight leaves him entirely, and then he’s falling boneless into the couch. You can hardly place a pillow onto the cushions before he’s driving his head into it.

“Jesus,” You mutter in disbelief. “How long has it been since you slept? You look dead.” 

“Weeks.” Bakugou mumbles.

“Since the last time?” 

“Mhm.”

If his words alone didn’t confirm the severity of his sleeplessness for you, his response time did. Bakugou answered quickly, without fight, like he’d been wanting to spill for the entire night. And, you suppose, maybe he did; or was trying to. In hindsight, you begin to realize a lot of his screaming could just as easily have read as cries for help- not that you’d ever tell him that. You’d probably have to prepare a will if you ever tried telling him that.

“You want a blanket?” You ask a little unsurely, not exactly confident in your approach to this entirely different Bakugou. “All you’re getting is the couch, but I could probably scrounge up a few blankets.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond. All you hear in response are tiny little snores and slow breathing. 

You find it reminds you of the last time- the way you’re reaching into a cupboard and grabbing out a blanket for him. Except this time, it’s a little bit different. Somehow you’re settling the blanket over him with a little bit of genuine kindness instead of begrudging sympathy.

After all, you can’t help but feel a little bit of pity- no one would ever fall asleep that fast unless they really needed it. Especially not in a stranger’s house. 

--/--

enjoy my lovelies :))

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou fic #bakugou series #bnha fic #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha fic #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n

[pixie-dust-and-pain]

Laser tag

Pairing: Solangelo

Words: 1,224

Warnings: only my horrid writing/none

Based on the prompt: 

Nico Di Angelo was ready to smack his boyfriend. Now, normally, he wasn’t the type to resort to violence-or, well, maybe he was, but that was not the point-but Will Solace had dragged him to the horrid building against his will, insisting that he’d “have fun”.

Well, he was having loads of fun now, sitting in the stuffy mall, legs aching and ice cream melting. He usually liked ice cream, but this one tasted like paraffin wax and sludge. He hadn’t even been aware that ice cream could taste bad before his encounter with this monstrosity. He stood up, threw it in the nearby dustbin, and slumped back into his seat, glaring pointedly at Will. Will simply rolled his eyes, and tugged the hideous blue cap off, finally showed his blonde hair.

“I want to go home,” Nico presumed he looked intimidating, but the way Will’s lip quirked and the way he pinched Nico’s cheek, moving away only when Nico swatted at his hand said otherwise.

“Don’t act like this was torture for you, Mr Dark Lord, I’m the one who had to carry all your hot topic bags,”

Nico blushed slightly, but kept his expression impassive, merely rolling his eyes in reply and slouching in his seat. It wasn’t his fault that the cursed shop had decided t have a sale, and that he’d liked every other piece of clothing.

“Let’s go laser tagging,” Will suggested, getting up abruptly from his seat, and jerking Nico out of his thoughts.

“Let’s go what?” Nico understood if he had annoyed Will by making him carry his bags, but surely, murder was too much. Right?

“Laser tagging? I heard there’s a place here to…” he trailed off, looking horrified at the lost look on Nico’s face. “You’ve-” he began again, slowly this time, as though being confronted by another prophecy, “you’ve never been laser tagging before?”

When Nico shook his head, his expression changed from horrified to confused to pure ecstatic, and he let out a bark of a laugh. He dragged Nico out, bags in one hand and Nico’s arm in the other, and something about the way he was grinning made Nico gulp.

“Where-?” Nico was cut off as Will shushed him impatiently.

“Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Nico regretted it. The air was cool, thankfully, but that didn’t stop him from sweating a bucket. A song, one that Will had immediately recognized upon walking into the place, had been playing for the past hour and half, slowly driving Nico insane. and Nico’s throat felt like parchment paper. Flashes of blue, red, and purple danced across his vision as he squinted, nearly braining a kid when she tried to sneak up on him.

He was great at this, a natural, Will had said after their second round, and he supposed his reflexes and ADHD helped, too. And although he loved the game, he couldn’t help but get annoyed at the flashy lights and the horrendous music, and Gods could he not wait until he got his hands on Will so he could kiss-no, kick him. He’d kiss him later.

He shot the girl who had tried to shoot him, and was filled with relief. It was only him, Will, and another mystery kid left.

Nico was competitive, and would never let Will purposefully win, but he was also tired and wanted nothing more than to cuddle up on his couch with a certain son of Apollo and watch those ghastly movies Will liked so much with him. Although, despite the fatigue and the annoyance he faced, he couldn’t help but admit that the activity was ridiculously enjoyable, especially since he was bound to win.

Will, although being a son of Apollo, couldn’t shoot a gun to save his life, be it a fake or a real one. Nico, on the other hand, was rather skilled, if he said so himself.

“Holy Hera! Mother of fucks-shit, what the fuck, get away you heathen-Fucknickles-!” The crass vocabulary belonged to none other than Will Solace, and Nico winced. Him being from the 1930s highly affected his definition of proper, and Will Solace almost never filled it. 

Moreover, there were kids there, and Will didn’t seem to understand the concept of age-appropriate language. After Chiron had caught a seven-year old girl call her archery partner a “fucking dickhead”, Will had been banned from treating kids under the age of eleven. And when he did, under any emergency, he had been banned from talking in front of them. 

He felt relief flood through him, and he sagged against the wall. It was only him and Will left. His eyes burned, and he licked his lips. His mouth was dry.

Nico may have been excellent at using the weapon provided, a weird, fake gun, but Will was obviously better at sneaking around. Maybe that was why Nico hadn’t noticed it when Will had snuck behind him, and by the time he had, Will had already managed to pin both his wrists above his head.

Nico tried struggling, he really did, but when Will leaned in closer, pressing his body against his, Nico’s mind went blank. Will’s breath fanned the shell of his ear when Will whispered, “Got you,” and Nico didn’t have time to put together a meaningful sentence before Will had pressed his lips to his.

The little space Nico had hidden in seemed to have suddenly turned a thousand degrees hotter, but Nico couldn’t seem to bring himself to care. He didn’t care about winning anymore, and even if he did, it was certainly the last thing on his mind.

Will pressed into him harder, and Nico gasped. He had forgotten about the game, and everything else, and all that mattered to him was the boy currently making out with him. He felt his cheeks turn red in embarrassment at being so openly affectionate in public (and certainly not because he was completely and utterly in love with Will Solace, and was blushing because he was flustered), but this wasn’t the 1930s anymore, and Hades, he couldn’t care less about social etiquette while Will Solace was Pressing into him that way.  

He pulled away, leaving Nico’s breathing uneven and his heart beating louder than before. One thing Will absolutely adored about Nico was how easily flustered he got. Like now, for example. Nico’s cheeks were burning, and his face was a delectable shade of crimson. He was leaning against the wall, and didn’t move away even when Will let go of his wrists. 

Will smirked, shot at Nico, who was far too dumbfounded to react quickly enough, winked playfully at him, and left him behind. “Player is dead, return to base,” A boisterous voice announced, snapping Nico back to reality. He had just lost to Will Solace. Even more, he had just kissed Will Solace in public. He briefly wondered if he’d get thrown out for that. He didn’t care, it wasn’t like he couldn’t bribe Valdez to set up a better replica of the game-he’d forgotten the name-back at camp. 

He stumbled out of the area, cheeks still aflame, and scowled at Will in faux annoyance. Will only grinned back, and Nico felt his lips twitch into a slight smile. Although Nico was usually a sore loser, he didn’t mind losing so much this time.

#percy jackson #heroes of olympus #will solace #nico di angelo #solangelo #fluff #nico di angelo fluff #this is my first time writing a kiss scene I'm sorry- #i should be studying #5 missing assignments and 3 tests due but i did this #trials of apollo #gay #otp #these dumbasses #they give me life #they're so cute #i cringe at my writing

[lexosaurus]

Eldritch Ghosts

My piece for Day 4 of DP Side Hoes Week! Initially, I was kinda wary about writing this one just because I usually don’t really do a ton of world building in my fics, but I’m actually pretty happy with how this one came out!

Character: Clockwork Theme: Origin

---

Every ghost had an origin story, the tale of how they came to be. For most, they were created from a dying body, driven to existence through a deep sense of purpose. Perhaps a dying wish they never got to fulfill, or an especially traumatic death that resulted in an overexertion of brain matter in the last moments. For most, this was their origin story.

For other ghosts, they were created in the Zone. Most of that group were born from the procreation of two other ectoplasmic creatures. Not all ghosts had the capabilities of reproduction, but some of the more sentient, more powerful ghosts could find a way if they so pleased.

But for a small group, they were born from the Zone itself. From the deepest, most ancient parts of this vast expanse of ectoplasmic energy. There were only a few ghosts who developed this way, but those few possessed powers that other ghosts could only dream of.

They were called eldritch ghosts.

“So what about you?” Phantom asked. He had taken a liking to a particular stuffed armchair in Clockwork’s haunt, lounging with his back to one arm and his legs dangling over the other. He asked the question lazily, his eyes more focused on the ice shapes he was creating in his palm than on Clockwork himself. 

“How were you made?”

Clockwork shifted to his adult form. “I know you’re not a full fledged ghost, but even you should know the taboos of our culture.”

Phantom dissipated the ice crystals. “Oh come on, Clocky! You know how I got here.”

“I know how everyone got here. I am the master of—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Phantom shook his hand nonchalantly to the side. “Master of time, god of all past, present, and future, observer of all timelines and potential outcomes. I know, but even you have an origin story.”

“Not everyone has an exciting tale of origin, ghost child.”

“But you still came from somewhere.” 

Clockwork turned his attention back to a portal he was watching. It was of a young ghost child learning to ride a bike for the first time. Clockwork had seen this before, and he would see it again in the future. 

He sighed, shifting into his child form and wiping the portal to show a new landscape. It was dark, black. He waved his arm, zooming in further on the scene until a bright green orb of swirling ectoplasm came into view.

“Come, child.”

“Huh?” Phantom rose from the couch. “Oh, what’s that? Is that the zone?”

“Correct.”

Phantom peered closer to the scene until he was hovering just mere inches away from it. “I don’t get it. Where are all the doors?”

“There are no doors in this realm of the Ghost Zone. No portals to other lands, other timelines, or other worlds.”

“Oh. So then why are you showing me this?”

Clockwork pointed his metal staff towards the glowing green mass. “Do you see that?” 

“Yeah?”

“That’s the epicenter of the Zone. We all exist around it in an ever growing mass of ectoplasm and space. Everything in this plane originated from that core.”

“Wait, the Zone has a core? Like ghosts do?”

Clockwork nodded, his purple hood bobbing at the movement. “That is correct.”

“Does that mean…” Phantom’s face scrunched up. “Does that mean the Zone is a ghost?”

“Not exactly. The Zone is not sentient, it is merely an expanse of space that emits ectoplasmic energy, the thing that creates and sustains us. Without this core, the ectoplasm in the Zone would be unable to sustain itself, and the Zone as we know it would cease to exist, along with all of us.”

Phantom’s eyes shifted warily back to the screen. “That’s sort of dangerous, isn’t it?”

“How so?”

“If the core is so important for us to stay alive, then why is it so...I don’t know, exposed? Couldn’t some insane ghost just go destroy it?”

“No,” Clockwork said. “That’s the biggest mystery of the Zone’s core. Anyone who’s ever tried to get near the core has never made it back in one piece. The core is so powerful that it incinerates any ghost who attempts to get close. Hence why there are no doors around it either.”

“What if someone just like accidentally stumbles across it? Like what if one day I’m flying, minding my own business, and I get too close to this core?”

“That wouldn’t happen. Ghosts can feel it.” He shifted to his elder form and waved his hand once more at the portal, zooming in even closer to the core until the duo could see all the individual swirling speckles of ectoplasm pulsating around the core.

Phantom was silent for a moment, staring up at the bright green core with childlike wonder. “It looks sort of like a sun.”

“It is like the sun. If we fly too close, we can feel it. But it’s not hot in the way a human sun is. It won’t burn or melt you if you get too close.”

“Then what happens?”

Clockwork took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It had been so long, an eternity even, but even he could never forget the way the Zone’s core felt. How it affected his core, how it directed the ambient ectoplasm around him, guiding him away from the ancient depths of the Zone.

Most ghosts would never get that lucky. Other ghosts would cease to exist. 

But not him.

“A ghost who gets too close would feel an intense amount of pressure. At first, it’s just a slight warning, but the closer the ghost gets, the more they would feel as if gravity itself is imploding around them. But if they get close enough, the core’s radiant ectoplasm would begin to interact with the ghost’s own core, and they’ll be driven insane by the Zone’s sheer power. The ghost’s core would become parasitic, and would force the ghost’s body forward until the Zone’s core can reach them. At that point, they’d simply dissolve.”

Danny shuttered. “Seems like a bad way to go.”

“It is.”

“So…” Danny started, his tone shifting into one of cautious curiosity. “Not that this isn’t cool and all, ‘cause it is, but why are you telling me all this?”

Clockwork shifted back into his childlike form. “You wanted to know my origin story, did you not?”

“Well, yeah. But I don’t see how the Zone’s core has anything to do with you specifically. Other than, you know, us being a ghost and needing the Zone’s core to exist and all that.”

Clockwork held his gloved hand up to eye level, watching as the miniature clocks adorning his wrists ticked away at their various times. “Every couple thousand years, the Zone’s core has too much radiant ectoplasm it needs to dispel. A human star does this much more often in the form of solar flares. But the Zone’s core is made of ectoplasm, and so it dispels its energy in the form of a new ghost.”

“So...you mean...you were born from the Zone’s core?” 

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And you’re still here?” Danny jumped up, swirling around Clockwork in alarm. “How? How did it not drive you insane and make you explode?”

Clockwork chuckled. “Child, I am the Zone’s child. Why would it kill its own creation so soon?”

“But you said the Zone wasn’t sentient.”

“That I did.” Clockwork hummed, shifting back into his adult form. He waved his staff once more at the portal, transforming the scene to a ghost wandering beyond where doors existed. If anything was amiss, the ghost paid no mind, traversing deeper into the empty landscape. 

In a few hours, the ghost would be no more.

“I’m sure if I tried to go near it now, I would end up like this poor soul. But upon my creation, the core was expending excess energy. It wouldn’t have wanted to take back the energy it just spent so much effort getting rid of.”

Phantom eyed the portal, looking ill.

"Remember, child." Clockwork swung his staff, morphing the scene back into the child riding a bike. “The Zone is full of mysteries. Ones that I myself do not even fully understand.”

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2021 #clockwork #my writing #phicc #worldbuilding #eldritch ghosts

[tothemeadow]

‘the doctor’ / Midoriya x Reader

Uwu, this is the first official post that hasn’t been imported from the other blog     ( ´ ω ` ) Also, this has been sitting around on my computer for the past two months, so enjoy these crumbs while I strive to finish up the semester!

warnings: NSFW, doctor/patient relationship, grinding, heavy petting, fascination for hybrids?, y’all fuck but I didn’t write the whole thing

words: 3,752

(a/n): hehehehehe add this to the list of taboo relationship works I’ve done

-

“The doctor will see you now.”

The secretary sitting behind the desk flashes you a smile as you pass by her. The two of you are already on a first name basis, considering that you have biweekly checkups. With a quirk like yours, it can be detrimental to your health if it goes unchecked for too long. You have enough meds in your system to possibly knock out a small child, but you’ve long since grown used to it.

Still, as you pass from the waiting room and into the hall leading to numerous checkup rooms, your palms feel impossibly clammy. Your previous doctor recently retired after spending so many years in the field, and now you were supposed to meet your new doctor. Granted, your previous one told you many great things about this new kid, about how he’ll take great care of you. You’re not too confident in the sudden change, but it can’t be helped. Unless you wanted to suffer horribly, you had to seek some type of help.

Shuffling to room number six, you silently close the door behind you and take a deep breath. Your intestines feel unusually tight, ache with an indescribable force. Despite your quirk being a relatively simple one – doggification, which essentially means you have the characteristics and properties of a dog – your body could never get quite a grasp on it. Despite looking entirely like a human, your telltale features are the ears and tail protruding from your body. Even now, you can tell your ears are flat against your head and your tail is tucked between your legs.

Gently, you sit on the table, the parchment paper crinkling under your weight. Wringing your hands, you will your breathing to ease, your mind to relax. It’s only the doctor’s office, nothing more, nothing less. You’ve been here practically all your life, so what gives? Oh, that’s right – a new doctor who you’ve never met before.

A few minutes pass; nothing happens besides the tick tock tick tock of the lone clock hanging from the wall, the slight hum from the lightbulbs. Your nerves feel raw, your heart frantic, your breathing irregular. You constantly remind yourself that you’re fine, you’re just nervous. You’re here for a reason, after all. If you want to continue living healthily, you need this treatment. There’s no point in chickening out now.

Just then, the door swings open; you jump in your place as you snap back to reality. Pulse quickening, you’re left wide-eyed as the doctor comes in. He’s nothing like you were expecting – instead of some elderly gentleman like your previous doctor, this new guy is young. He’s ridiculously cute, a mess of green curls piled on his head and a burst of freckles adorning his skin. For a doctor, he surprisingly has an athletic build, so you’re left wondering if he exercises regularly or played a sport in school. But oh, the way his scrubs cling to his meaty arms, stretch over his thick thighs. It’s almost ridiculous how baby-faced he is, especially compared to his Adonis-like body.

Without you knowing, your ears and tail stand to attention, curious about this newcomer.

The doctor flashes you a pearly smile as he reaches a hand towards you. “(y/n)? I’m Doctor Midoriya. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Doctor Midoriya.

Yeah, you like the sound of that. And the way your name rolls off your tongue? Perfection.

Hesitantly, you reach out a hand and grasp onto his for a handshake. His hand is large, fingers long and spindly, and his grip is strong. They’re actually pretty, dotted with freckles and striped with scars. Interesting, you muse, wondering just exactly what he did to get scars like that.

“So,” Doctor Midoriya starts, pulling away and planting himself on the stool stationed by the counter, “doggification, huh? You have a typical hybrid quirk, so it seems.” Pausing for a moment, he glances at his notes attached to his clipboard. “But, since you’re part Doberman pinscher, you suffer from dilated cardiomyopathy. The breed usually has problems regarding that, right?”

You nod in confirmation. “Yeah. Apparently, many owners don’t know their dogs have it until they collapse on the ground. I uh, I’ve been dealing with this my whole life, so….”

You really, really like the gentle expression Doctor Midoriya gives you. His cheeks look squishy despite his sharp jawline, lips a delicate shade of dusty rose… Shit, he’s beautiful yet he chose to become a doctor.

“Doctor Torino left his previous files, and I’ve been studying them before he retired,” he explains, drawing himself to a stand. “He was great, wasn’t he? I’m sorry if I don’t own up to your expectations.” Crossing over to the table, he unloops the stethoscope from around his neck and sticks the buds in his ears. “I need you to breathe in and out for me, nice and slow,” he tells you, pressing the cool metal to your chest.

You go through the usual routines, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Doctor Midoriya hums in which you assume is a good way; you can feel your skin heating up whenever large green eyes flick to your face, digging in right to your soul.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says, voice low. The deep rumble sets your nerves alight, your insides pulsing. Dare you say it, but you’re disappointed when he pulls away, looping the stethoscope back around his neck. He scribbles something onto his clipboard, his lips pursed in thought. You take the opportunity to study his side profile, the dainty curve of his nose, the angle of his jaw. How big is this guy, anyway? He’s huge for a doctor.

“I’m six-three, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he chirps, tossing down his pencil. He laughs at the startled expression playing on your face. “Sorry, sorry… A uh, a lot of people ask me that, you know? And I typically get a good read on what people are thinking, so… Yeah! Some people used to call me tree in med school! You know, because of the green hair and all…” Clearing his throat awkwardly, he walks back over to where you sit. “How have you been feeling since your last visit?”

Subconsciously rubbing at your chest, you send him a mere shrug. “I’ve been better, I’ve been worse. I’m just bummed Doctor Torino left on such short notice.”

“That makes two of us,” Doctor Midoriya admits, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He’s such a great mentor and all, don’t get me wrong, but it sucks that his time is up.”

Cocking your head, your ears twitch with interest. “Mentor?”

At that, Doctor Midoriya’s face lights up. “Oh! Yeah! I had my internship with Doctor Torino, and he taught me so much!”

“Internship…? Really? I don’t remember seeing you around whenever I had appointments with him.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I would’ve remembered seeing someone like you!” He giggles – giggles – at his own words, but then it quickly dies down as realization crosses his features. “Wait, wait!” he says frantically, waving his hands before him. “I didn’t mean to sound creepy or anything like that! It’s just that you don’t see hybrids very often, and you’re a dog, and I happen to really like dogs, and I-“ His yammering turns into an incoherent mumble, then, as he awkwardly wrings his hands together.

Heh. He’s pretty cute.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” you say, shooting his own words back at him. “You’re a newbie, right? You’re awfully young for a doctor.”

To your pleasant surprise, Doctor Midoriya blushes. Instinctively, he claps a hand over his mouth and looks away. Again, he clears his throat. “I graduated last year, actually. So yeah, I’m still new to this whole thing, but I want to help as much as I can!” Turning back to you, his flustered expression melts into a determined one. “And since you’re my first serious patient, you can rely on me. I promise to take real good care of you, mark my words.”

You smile. “I look forward to it, Doctor. I expect you to keep that promise.”

-

Three months. Three solid months.

Hypothetically, you should be thrilled being in Doctor Midoriya’s presence so often. Realistically, it’s pure torture.

How this guy doesn’t realize he’s easily the hottest person in the room is beyond you, plus his personality is downright adorable. It’s funny, really, how you’re the one with the dog quirk yet he’s the one who acts more like one. He gets excited over the simplest of things, and you were quick to realize that he’s a giant nerd. It’s clear that he’s got a brain in that skull of his – and, if you’re being entirely honest, it makes Doctor Midoriya that much more attractive.

His constant murmuring and chippering never fail to put a smile on your face. With every appointment you have with him, you purposefully bring up a topic he’s bound to show some interest in just to hear him talk. So yeah, you might be infatuated with your insanely hot doctor, but who can blame you? He’s kindhearted, smart, good-looking, has a good job…. Okay, and maybe he’s packing down south. It’s not your fault that his scrubs clung to his body that one time. You just happened to notice it.

You doubt he’s doing these kind of things on accident. Hell, Doctor Midoriya blatantly flirts with you, for crying out loud. Well, it’s actually more subtle than that, but the point still stands.

“(y/n)?” Doctor Midoriya calls out as he enters the room, the door sliding shut behind him. Warmth floods your chest as your tail sets off in a slow wag. He laughs at your reaction, that toothy smile of his forming on his face. Just like every other time he shows it, you fall a little bit deeper for him.

“Doctor Midoriya,” you greet. Your fingers dig into the table as you bite down on your bottom lip. He looks good, dark blue scrubs shaping his figure nicely. You, on the other hand, stick to a simple pair of gym shorts and t-shirt. It’s a hot day outside, after all.

As Doctor Midoriya scribbles something down on his handy clipboard, you slowly spread your legs further apart. It’s a slight bit, nothing more, but the movement seems to catch his attention. Setting down his pencil, you notice how his eyes linger on your bared thighs for a moment longer than what’s considered appropriate. Slipping the stethoscope from around his neck, he gets up from his stool and crosses to wear you sit.

“Any problems lately?” he asks, voice as professional as always. Sneaky bastard, trying to pretend like he wasn’t just staring at your thighs.

“Besides the weather, not really. The heat makes things a bit easier, though,” you tell him.

Doctor Midoriya hums. Pressing the end of the stethoscope to your chest, he tells you to breathe in and out, nice and deep. “I’m not hearing any abnormalities in your breathing,” he says simply, switching to your back instead. “Besides the DCM, you’re in wonderful health.”

“That’s a relief,” you mutter.

He continues to go through the regular routine of your biweekly checkup. Soon enough, he’s looking through a scope at your dog ears, checking for any signs of an incoming infection. Try as you might, but you enjoy the way he caresses your ear, leaning into his touch as your tail takes off wagging. Doctor Midoriya chuckles, indulging in your wants and giving your ears a proper scratch.

“You really are like a dog,” he points out, his tone lighthearted. “A cute little puppy.” And there he goes, blessing your ears with his giggle. As you glance at him, you see the pretty blush adorning his cheeks, the gleam of mirth in his large eyes.

Puppy.

For some ungodly reason, you really like the way it sounds coming from his mouth.

“You shouldn’t be referring to your patients with a pet name, Doctor,” you drawl.

The blush on his face darkens. In true fashion, he hastily looks away and awkwardly coughs into his fist. “My apologies,” he murmurs. “If… If it’s any consolation, your ears are really soft…”

A small smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I’m only teasing,” you reassure.

He flinches.

Teasing.

“Besides, you said you really like dogs, right? I think puppy is cute.”

Doctor Midoriya looks back to you. “…Really?”

You nod. “I do.”

For a moment, neither one of you say anything. The look in Doctor Midoriya’s eyes is unreadable; whether that’s a good thing or not, you’re not entirely too sure. He’s usually easy to get a read on, but like this… It’s nearly impossible.

“Do you mind if we check your flexibility? It’s just touching your toes, nothing more. If your back is out, I’ll recommend some chiropractors.”

Okay, strange. You figure he wants to change the subject – you know, and do his job – so you do as he says, hopping down from the table and stepping away. As you bend over, your fingertips skimming the toes of your sneakers, large hands splay out on your back. You jolt from the contact, your breath catching in your throat. Their movements are calculated, feeling along your spine for any sort of abnormality. You can practically feel Doctor Midoriya’s eyes boring into you; the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck come a stand as you wait for him to do something, anything.

“Your spine feels fine,” he tells you. “You feel a bit tense, though. Do you bend over a lot?”

Excuse me?

You scoff. “I’m bending over right now, aren’t I?”

Doctor Midoriya makes some weird choking sound. “No, no, that’s not what I meant! I meant when you sit or something like that…!”

“I’m teasing, Doctor. Relax.” You wiggle underneath his touch. “Am I allowed to stand straight now?”

You can practically feel the tension radiating off him. “I… Not yet. I need to check one last thing, okay?” Again, he uses that low, husky pitch, the one that reverberates deep in his chest. This is only the second time you’re hearing it, but fuck does it make your insides squeeze and your breath hitch.

Before your mind can completely register it, Doctor Midoriya’s large hands are on your ass, kneading the ample flesh through your shorts. A slight groan slips from your mouth at the unexpected contact. Shit, his hands are even larger than you originally thought, his grip rough and demanding.

“Does it hurt?” he continues, his voice staying as it is, making your brain turn delirious.

“N-no,” you stutter. You immediately cuss yourself out internally. A sharp gasp breaks from your throat as one of his hands grips the base of your tail and gives it a slight tug.

“How about now?”

You wince as he does it again. “Yes, okay?” you seethe through clenched teeth. “Just don’t… Don’t tug on my tail like that.”

“So, your ears and tail are sensitive,” Doctor Midoriya mumbles to himself. “Interesting.”

“Doctor, what are you even going on about-“

At that very moment, those strong hands of his yank you backwards, your ass colliding with his pelvis. Heart leaping to your throat, you’re left scrambling for a shred of reality. Doctor Midoriya leans over you, his muscular chest pressing into your back. He’s so warm, and he oddly smells like mint, but it’s not like you’re going to complain anytime soon.

“This is such a bad idea,” he confesses into your ear, “but you’re just so cute, puppy. You like it when I call you that, right?”

“Doctor-“

“Tell me to stop,” he continues, a frantic edge to his voice now, “tell me I’m a disgusting pervert. I shouldn’t be doing this, but shit… I’ve been fantasizing about holding you this close.” Subconsciously, he rocks his hips into you, his engorged cock grinding into your ass.

Shit, shit, is this really happening? Your doctor has just fessed up to fantasizing about you, and, to be quite frank, you’re a bit too happy to hear that. It’s not like he’s the only one feeling this way; you’ve had your fair share of dreams over the months, most of them with him in between your legs in some fashion.

Straightening up, you reach back and grab him by the back of the neck, balancing yourself in his grip. A breathless noise fills your ear as you grind back against him, your nails scratching into his nape.

“O-oh,” he says, the sound delightfully raspy as it fills your ear.

“You aren’t the only one who’s been thinking of things,” you confess, your voice sounding equally as strained. Again, some unholy noise slips from his dusty lips, the grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

“Puppy… Don’t say things like that.”

You bark out a laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft, Doctor. Acting like you’re in charge one moment and then like a scared little bunny the next. A big boy like you should choose one and stick with it.”

Now you’ve done it. Like merely flicking a switch, Doctor Midoriya moans into your ear as he spins you around and stumbles backwards, ass landing on the examination table with you in tow. You squeak in surprise as he easily drags you into his lap, lifting you up as though you weighed next to nothing. The lustful haze in his eyes is evident, the blush adorning his face making his freckles pop.

“Shit,” you curse, eyelids fluttering as his cock rubs frantically against your ass. Again, another surprised noise escapes your mouth as he bounces you in his lap, his clothed erection grinding against your ass and sex. A sliver of tongue peeks from between his teeth, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of determination.

“This is so wrong,” Doctor Midoriya murmurs, his fingertips digging harshly into your ass. “But you like it, right? Right, puppy? You want me to fuck you, right? Right?”

Goddammit-

“Yes,” you grit, fingers clutching at his broad shoulders while your tail impatiently smacks against his thighs. “Come on, Doc, treat me like the good little puppy I am.”

You should’ve expected this, really. An almost animalistic whimper bursts from the back of his throat as he surges forward, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cherry lip balm and the lingering sweetness of a cough drop – it’s an odd mixture, but not one that you dislike. Months of built-up tension are finally breaking free from the dam, desperate movements and slurred words quickly taking over your mind. Doctor Midoriya is somewhat sloppy with his kisses, but the way he sucks on your tongue and grinds his cock into you is heavenly.

Fingers skimming over the swell of his pecs and the rigid lines of his abs, Doctor Midoriya shudders at your fluttering touch. You swallow his moan as your hands drift under the shirt of his scrubs, heated skin and a fine trail of hair greeting your fingertips.

Pulling away, Doctor Midoriya pants heavily as you continue to pet his lower abdomen, his cock twitching beneath you. “Wait, wait,” he breathes, hands inching around towards your front, “can we – Can we touch each other?”

“As long as you keep quiet,” you murmur, tongue flicking across your lower lip. “Don’t want the others to know that Doctor Midoriya is a bad boy, hmm?” At that, a high-pitched groan emits from his chest as you shove your hand under the band of his underwear, hand circling around the base of his cock.

“Fuck, puppy, that feels good…”

Quickly following your lead, he slips a hand into your undies; his strong fingers immediately seek out the sensitive spot of your sex, causing your back to arch into his touch. A low, drawn out curse seeps from your mouth as you feel your arousal starting to coat his fingers.

“I guess being a doctor has its benefits, huh?” Doctor Midoriya mutters, tone dropping into that husky pitch once more. Even more of your arousal practically gushes over his fingers, your insides tightening around nothing. Two can play at this game, dammit.

Soon, the two of you are heavily petting each other, wrists flicking and fingers digging into sensitive flesh perfectly. Both your ears and tail lay flat as you pant into his neck, your thighs beginning to quiver with want. Doctor Midoriya isn’t fairing any better, his cock weeping precum as he mumbles incoherently. Maybe it’s the enticing little pants breaking through his puffy lips, or maybe it’s the sinful schlick schlick of your hand around his fat cock, but fuck do you want him inside of you, fucking you stupid.

“Doctor,” you purr, pushing yourself up onto your knees. “Have I been a good puppy? Will you fuck me with your cock and make me yours?” You nearly smile as he twitches in your hand at your filthy words.

Feebly nodding, Doctor Midoriya reluctantly pulls his hands away from you, opting to yank down his bottoms and underwear so they’re stretched around his meaty thighs instead. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of his cock – darker than the rest of his skin and veiny like his hands, he’s just as big as you expected, maybe even bigger. Still, you hastily yank down your own offensive clothing and slip back onto his lap, hovering over his twitching cock.

Doctor Midoriya thickly swallows. “I’m… I’m clean. You don’t have to worry- Fuck, oh my god!” Slapping a hand over his mouth, he groans deeply as you sheathe yourself on him, eyes nearly rolling towards the back of your head at the stretch. Yeah, he’s definitely huge.

For a moment, you allow yourself to grow used to the feeling of him inside. This is really happening; all caution is being thrown to the wind, repercussions be damned. He’s finally in your grasp, and you don’t plan on letting him go any time soon. “You said you wanted to fuck me, Doctor,” you mutter into his ear, your hips beginning to swivel. “Do it like you mean it.”

Again, that determined expression crosses his features. “With a challenge like that, who I am to decline?” Adjusting his grip on your ass, he easily lifts you up and drops you back on his cock, eliciting a breathy moan to fall from your swollen lips. “Don’t worry, puppy – as your doctor, I’m going to take real good care of you…"

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #mha midoriya #bnha midoriya

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 3)

Summary: You’d made your decision, now all you had to do was stick to it.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Final part, hope y’all like it :)

---

You woke up the next morning feeling sick, memories of the night before flooding into your mind as soon as your eyes peeled open.

The dejection in Bucky's face as he stood up and left, how he didn’t look back even as you called his name, the sound of his heavy footsteps on the stairs and the slamming of the front door.

How he’d left the ring box on your dresser, where it was still sitting, unopened.

You buried your face in the pillow and did all you could to push last night out of your mind, but it was impossible trying to claw your way out of this pit of despair whilst being peppered with pangs of guilt and remorse that kicked you further and further down. Eventually you just had to accept that there was no way you’d be able to stop thinking about it.

And the more you thought about it, the more you doubted your decision.

An increasingly loud voice in the back of your head was screaming at you that these past few days were the happiest you’d had in such a long time, so you must’ve been insane to turn down Bucky’s offer of making this life permanent, while the rest of your brain was ferociously arguing that there was far too much you’d have to give up to make that happen. 

Were you really going to turn your back on the life you’d been working so hard towards for the past two years? At times it could be lonely and thankless, but it’s what you’d always wanted. 

So much had changed, you and Bucky had your own, separate lives now. You couldn’t just suddenly drop everything and move back home... right?

You went round and round in your head like that for hours, slowly building new trains of thought just to watch them derail and catch fire, fully aware that it was creeping up to midday but entirely unable to muster up the energy to get out of bed.

The destructive cycle was finally broken by a faint knock at the door. 

You slowly sat up as it inched open, your mother’s head appearing in the gap.

‘You want to talk, sweetie?’ Wiping your face, you nodded faintly, prompting her to step in and close the door behind her. ‘What on earth happened last night?’

Without a word, you gestured your head towards your dresser. All the colour drained from her face when she spotted it.

‘Oh fuc- is that- did he- what did you say?’

‘He bought it before I moved.’

‘Holy shit.’

A short, half-hearted chuckle escaped your lips. She really had a knack for effectively summing up complex, emotional sentiments in the shortest and sweetest of ways.

You folded your legs as she perched herself on the edge of your bed and started to stroke your shoulder, her face swimming with intense concern and pity. 

‘Well he left very suddenly, so I’m guessing that conversation didn’t have a happy ending.’

‘He asked me to stay.’ Her mouth fell open, eyebrows shooting up her forehead. ‘But I can’t, right? We both have our own lives now. I have my job and he has the workshop, too much has-’

‘Sweetie. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?’

You smiled faintly, pulling your knees up to your chest. ‘I just need time to think about everything.’

‘Well, do you love him?’ It took less than a second of deliberation before you felt yourself begin to nod. ‘Isn’t that enough?’

‘I don’t know.’

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. You could see her really scrambling to find the perfect thing to say, something that would make it all better, but she seemed to draw a blank. Instead, she leant forward and planted a short kiss on your forehead.

‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’

Giving you a final sympathetic smile, she stood up and headed towards the door, not hearing you whisper to yourself.

‘I always do.’

---

The next few days were like torture.

You were too nauseous to eat, constantly tired but unable to sleep and obsessed with checking your phone every few minutes to see if Bucky had tried to contact you.

You’d pined for him before, but this was different, this was painful.

Every so often you’d scroll through your contacts and hold your finger over his name, willing yourself to just suck it up and call him, but in your panic you’d always manage to convince yourself that you’d already blown it for good.

All you could think about was his face as he left, surely there was no way he’d want to hear from you again after that.

The days slipped away and, before you knew it, it was the morning of your flight.

Wearily gathering your things from your bedroom, you eyes wandered over to the ring box, still sitting where he’d left it. It didn’t feel right leaving it behind, but taking it would mean living with a constant reminder of what you’d walked away from.

You were far too tired for another internal war, you just grabbed it and stuffed it in your pocket.

Your dad tried to make conversation on the drive but your mind was elsewhere. The further you travelled from home, the more cracks you could feel forming in your vision of a happy future with Bucky. It wouldn’t be long before it completely shattered.

Hugging your parents goodbye, you felt hot tears begin to stream down your face, prompting your mother to ask you over and over if you were sure about your decision.

You just nodded, plastered on a smile and turned away, making your way into the airport. 

Once you got to your gate, you slumped yourself down in the waiting area, staring blankly at the floor and gently stroking the box in your pocket. Your trance was only broken when you heard the announcement.

Your flight was boarding.

Just as you heaved yourself onto your feet, your phone pinged in your pocket. 

It was a text from Bucky’s mom.

Roger’s bar. He’ll be there all evening.

---

Your cab skidded to a stop and you quickly jumped out. 

Glancing up at the neon sign blinking over your head, you began to hear the vague music and laughter coming from inside. Minutes passed as you stood out there in the snow, watching the figures through the foggy windows, building up the courage to go inside.

Taking one last deep breath, you marched forward and pulled the door open, diving into the sea of people inside. 

The place was small but absolutely packed. You frantically scanned your eyes around the place, eventually spotting him, alone at the bar. A solitary, slumped figure, the only person in there who didn’t look like he was having a good time.

You pushed your way over, stopping a few feet behind him.

‘Buck.’ It came much weaker than you’d intended, he didn’t hear you over the crowd. ‘Buck!’

He spun round, his eyes widening when they settled on you. ‘Y/n? What are you doing here?’

You tried to answer, but your words got caught in your throat. Not wavering your gaze from his face, you dug the ring box out of your pocket and held it out to him.

He shook his head indignantly, grabbing it out of your hand. ‘You really came here just to give it back?’

‘No, I- I didn’t mean-’ You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts. ‘Ask me.’

‘What?’

‘Ask me, if you still want to.’

His eyes flicked between your face and the box in his hand, his irritated frown softening as the corners of his mouth started to curl into an excited smile. 

‘You wanna get married?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’ You laughed through a beaming smile. ‘More than anything.’

He lunged towards you, lifting you off the ground and squeezing you tight as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You placed your hands on either side of his head, tilting it upwards and capturing his lips with yours, melting a little when you felt him smile against you.

It was only a few seconds before he pulled away, setting you back down on the floor before excitedly pulling the ring out of the box. He took your hand in his and gently slid it onto your finger.

Your breath hitched when you saw it for the first time.

‘You like it?’ Bucky snaked his arms around your waist and drew you into his chest, grinning proudly as he watched you place your hand on his shoulder and just gaze at the ring.

‘I love it.’

‘I knew you would.’ You raised an eyebrow at him, trying not to chuckle at his overt smugness. ‘I know you too well, Lilypad.’

---

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---

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

[fa-headhoncho]

Imagine Ron thinking you have a crush on a Malfoy

Masterlist

You stare at Ron, completely dumbfounded at his accusation. His face is red in anger and his chest heavily moving up and down. The weight of his words hangs in the air, waiting for a response. Draco for once, has nothing to say to the redhead either while Harry and Hermione shift awkwardly behind Ron. 

Draco asked you to help him with his Transfiguring essay, telling you how he was struggling to understand the subject you guys were studying. It was a surprise, Draco’s pride never let him go to anyone for help, so you were glad to do so. Your nights have been occupied with tutoring Draco the last couple of days, sometimes even missing dinner since your schedules conflicted.

However, you didn’t think it would lead to this. You spotted the trio when the two of you walked in the library. You happily gave them a smile and a wave while Draco sneered. Hermione and Harry greeted you back while Ron didn’t. It made your heart pang a bit but you didn’t let it get to you. The cat and mouse game you and Ron have been playing has always left Ron unpredictable.

Unpredictable in the sense that things between you and Ron were, well, complicated. The two of you have been flirting since the start of this year, you’ve always had a little crush on him but something changed this year. This year was full of more... intense interactions between the two of you. You being the more obvious one, of course, but Ron had his moments. His shining one being replaying in your head.

The Gryffindors had an amazing win in Quidditch a day or so ago, causing a party in the common room. Fire whiskey and butterbeer passed around like wildfire. The liquid courage giving confidence to many. Like Ron Weasley. Harry and Hermione didn’t even realize the two of you disappeared until Hermione caught both of you trying to sneak through the passage well after the party. 

Your loudmouth didn’t stay quiet once you were in the dorms with Hermione. Telling her almost every detail even if she didn’t want to hear it. Ron doing the same with Harry. But, ever since that night Ron has been acting particularly odd… which is what has caused his outburst. 

“Draco? Really?” Ron’s scoff interrupted you and Draco’s study session. The two of your heads snapped up from his essay to the redhead. “I should’ve known you fancied him! You doodle his last name on every notebook you have,” He accused, “I’m sure he put you up to the sick game you’ve been playing with me. I actually thought we had something.”

You continue to stare at Ron, mouth wide open. His anger is obvious, and yours is starting to build as well. The fact he would dare to think you would be playing an awful game with him is an insult in itself. Especially with Draco Malfoy out of everyone, too.

“Are you that dimwitted?” You stand up, the chair you were sitting flies back. “You think I would actually play with your heart like that, Ronald Weasley?” Ron’s angered expression starts to soften a bit now that he’s the one being yelled at, especially since you used his full name.

“Well,” His stubbornness takes over, him regaining his confidence. “(Y/N) Malfoy has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

You have no words for him. How stupid can he be? You run your hands through your hair out of frustration. How has he not realized this sooner?

“Ron,” You say, scarily calm, “My last name is Malfoy.”

“You two already got married—”

“No, you knobhead,” You cut him off.

“Well, what is it then, huh?” He presses on, trying to hear what he’s already been thinking. How can he be this stubborn yet so stupid.

“Are you that mental, Weasley?” Draco finally cuts in, standing up as well. Ron’s fists immediately clench, ready for a fight. “I’ve always thought you had a bag of rocks up there but this just further proves my theory.” He mumbled, a small smirk on his face. He’s satisfied with his insult as he closes his essay and quill in his book. He then starts to walk away. 

“Oh, you little—“ He jumps forward at the tall blonde but Harry grabs his arm.

“Ron,” Hermione immediately scolds as well.

“Can’t you guys see what’s going on?” He turns to his friends, completely hurt that they would hold him back. Out of years of friendship and the late nights where he would gush about you to them, they decided to hold him back.

“You really think I would go off and flirt with Draco after we--” You cut yourself off, Draco making a disgusted face at you. “You’re insane if you think that night meant nothing to me, Ronald.”

“Absolute nutter,” Are Draco’s last words before he completely walks away. This leaves the four of you. Ron shakes Harry off of him with a scowl on his face. He’s completely heart broken. No one is supporting him.

“You’re an idiot, Ronald.” Hermione tells him and drags Harry out of the library with her.

Ron watches his friends walk away, leaving you two alone in a row of the library. He feels as if the bookcases are closing in on him the more the two of you stand there. He’s not sure what he wants you to say anymore. 

On the other hand, you’re completely fuming. How dare he accuse you of something so evil. Especially after the long years of chasing after each other. This year was the year you thought the two of you could finally get together. But, Ron has to be so overdramatic and temperamental sometimes.

“He’s my cousin, Ron.” 

“What?” 

“My last name is Malfoy, you nitwit.” 

“I thought it was (Y/L/N).” He furrows his eyebrows, obviously not understanding.

“It’s hyphenated.” You explain. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)- Malfoy… his dad’s my uncle. I use the first one more often because of the reputation that side of the family has.” You carefully take a few steps closer to him, testing the waters. “I never told you because I like you, Ron. I didn’t want the bad blood to ruin what we have.”

Ron stands there, processing everything… then his cheeks light up again due to embarrassment. His embarrassment turns into happiness once he realizes what you said. You’re not in love with Draco Malfoy, your cousin, you liked him.

A large smile then appears onto his face, he brings you into a bone crushing hug. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glad he finally used his brain. You melt into the hug as he whispers into your ear:

“I’m so stupid.”

#ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley imagines #ronald weasley #ronald weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #ronald weasley imagines #ronald weasley imagine #ron x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #imagines #harry potter imagines #weasleys #weasleys x reader #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x (y/n) #ron weasley reader insert #fandomsarchive

[2021fuckitup]

“ WE GET HIGH WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS”

Helpful hints for newborn to old fuckers...

Why A Torch Lighter Is Ideal:-Your product liquifies, then smokes, almost instantly

-It is MUCH easier to control the direction the meth flows, as well as what is receiving heat

-You can get MUCH bigger hits

-You can avoid burning it so much easier than with other flames

-No flickering flame

-Butane refills are cheap as fucking shit (I got a hairspray-sized bottle of Zippo butane for the price of 2 disposable lighters)

-Don’t burn your thumb as much

-Sessions can be initiated and/or finished faster

Downsides-If you don’t pay attention, you can burn the shit out of your product, or yourself. BE CAREFUL, PAY ATTENTION, AND BE PATIENT

-Smoke through your stash quicker

-Possibly worse burns because its hotter than a bic

How to smoke meth with torch lighter for beginners:

1)First ensure that your pipe is clean.

Why?

For the ice to smoke properly. DO NOT load fresh product in a pipe with product that has been smoked, burned, or otherwise heated. If you load fresh on top of a still smokable bowl, the new and old will melt/smoke at different speeds/temperatures (can’t remember which is which right now, but I think old smokes faster), ensuing that it is very difficult to evenly heat the product. Then you get spots where part of the crystalized mass liquifies and will move with the flame, but some of it needs more heat, and for me at least, some always gets burned or darkened, and has a bad taste. If you load fresh product in a pipe with burnt shit in there, IT WILL TASTE LIKE SHIT. It will often also not melt/smoke right, AND your new stuff will taste like burnt stuff, which is THE WORST taste in the world (IM0). (FYI-I’ve heard that blowing cigarette smoke through a oil pipe (like you were going to hit it, but exhaling smoke through it instead) removes the taste. I have tried with pot smoke and it didn’t work, but have read many people say that cigarettes work.

How to Clean the Inside of A Pipe-If it is not clean, a very easy method is to fill a microwavable container (like a coffee mug) with 50% water, 50% bleach, and put the pipe (bowl facing downwards) in the water.

-Put it in the microwave for 4 minutes (yes, seriously that long-I tried after 1, 2, and 3 minutes and it didn’t work. May even take 5.)

-Let cool. Once cooled, remove from mug and drain all water.

-Using Q-tips, insert through carb hole and “mop up” the stuff left in the bowl. This may take several qtips depending on the bowl. If there is still black/brown stuff in the bowl, apply more pressure

(be careful not to break the bowl by pressing the q tip too hard on the sphere, OR accidentally pressing on the side of the carb when trying to reach around inside with q tip.) If there is still stuff in there, I have read that small bits of Magic Eraser stuffed in, and manipulated with a pole (like a q tip) work wonders, but also have not tried.

How to Clean the Outside of a PiPE

-Using a wet rag, or balled-up wet paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc, rub the outside of the bowl. This should cause the stuff on the outside to transfer onto the paper.

-If this doesn’t work, steel wool may work.

Handling/Prepping Product

-Dont handle meth by hand. It’s bad for your skin, and little amounts will dissolve. Instead, use:

Ideally: a 7/11 straw (this is a straw whose last inch or so is a scoop, sometimes used for slurpees or w/e those frozen drinks are; these straws I have found to be ideal for handling all sorts of drugs).

Realistically: Normal Straw: Straw been sealed on one end (tape, seal it with flame), and on the other has a 45 degree angle (45 degree is diagonal; if you cut a square in half diagonally, the diagonal line is 45). This allows you to scoop small fragments out of a bag, tin, or other carrying device easily, as the angled mouth scoops up crumbs, especially in corners of bags; while the sealed back prevents any from accidentally spilling.

Size/Shape

-Make sure your product is all of the same consistency. I find it best to use one crystal, preferably large (but not to large). I find the size of a tic tac, or slightly larger, to be ideal. Also, cubic or rectangular is best possible shape IME. I will often break long, skinny crystals because they dont burn as well as more square ones, and broken into small squares, they will smoke more evenly.

-While you can load bigger crystals with smaller bits/shake, I generally find it is best to load similar sized rocks. That is, load all shake, load two or three crystals of equal size, or put one crystal in there (usually a big one).

-If you need to break a crystal into smaller bits to make equal sized crystals (or to make odd shaped crystal more square), place a sanitary, nonabsorbent material on top of/around the crystal (no dollars bills here, printer paper works great.) and either snap it in two, or push against a surface. If pressing, you can use a finger, debit card, whatever, just slowly apply more pressure so you can crush to consistency of your liking. If you crush it all the way, you have shake(aka powder).

Differences Between Methods

Single Crystal (often large): Crystal will slowly lose mass as it melts, evenly becoming a pool (as long as you thoroughly spread it around the bowl).

Multiple Little Ones: If you evenly heat them: Will slowly melt into each other. Will be left with a very spread-out puddle, possibly multiple spread out ones.

If unevenly heated: There will be areas meth of varying thickness, accompanied by uneven melting and probable darkening/burning,.

Shake: Will liquify very quickly; little bits that haven’t yet been heated may go to weird parts of the bowl when you begin twisting, so you end up with tiny blotches and a single large or a few smaller puddles.

Loading Product

-Using straw, scoop your product into the chamber. Keeping upright, grab oil pipe and tilt at an angle so that the carb is pointing sideways, or angled down slightly. This will allow you to insert straw opening into carb before tipping the straw, ensuring you don’t miss the hole and lose any.

-Once inserted, twist pipe (while holding onto straw of course) until carb is once again pointing up. Tap straw to get all the little bits into the pipe (if meth is still sticking, use a scraper of some kind).

-Remove straw, and put pipe on level surface, BETWEEN TWO OBJECTS. THE PIPE WILL ROLL PEOPLE, AND WILL SPILL ALL YOUR GODDAMN PRODUCT AND/OR FALL ON THE FLOOR AND BREAK. UGH!

Now that you have a loaded pipe, ensure that you are ready to begin. Suggestions include

-Water

(lots of it!!) Both meth and smoking dehydrate you, and the more dehydrated you are, the more you will suffer from dental damage and brain damage (neurotoxicity). A large amount of methamphetamine neurotoxicity (and most dopamine toxicity) is temperature-dependent, as it often induces hyperthermia (This is similar to MDMA, aka XTC, Molly, rolls, etc). Water cools your body.

You should be urinating with irritating frequency, and should be voiding clear urine, otherwise you are already dehydrated (unless taking assloads of vitamins or something).

-Music

I can’t even describe how much music enhances the experience of smoking meth. It synergizes well-the meth makes the music sound insane, and in turn the music intensifies the high, making me feel even more intelligent/strong/attractive/cool/special. This is the part of the high I crave, and it rarely occurs (at least with the intensity I like) without music.

-Spare lighter/butane refill

When smoking meth, you are always running out of fuel. The spare lighter is also useful because lighters get really hot when ignited for long periods of time (like when smoking meth) and you can swap them out.

-Wet (but not sopping) rag or bundled tissues/paper towels/toilet paper/etc

This is to set the pipe on when not using it (a hot pipe will burn fabrics, fucking up whatever its on as well as the pipe), and to cool down the pipe after a hit. The pipe stays hot for a while, and if you don’t hit it, drugs are being lost/wasted. If you cool the pipe, it will stop heating the drugs faster (duh). Do not do this immediately after getting the pipe really hot-heat and cold on glass can break it. Wait for it to cool slightly, then use it.

When you use the rag to cool underneath liquified dope, it will emit a lot of smoke while crystalizing I read somewhere that the meth actually vaporizes/produces smoke when it hits cooler surface, but I don’t know the validity of that. I do know that cold makes it smoke more though.

-Salt Water

Swishing and gargling salt water while smoking meth (ie after a hit, and definitely after a session) will help prevent canker sores, help kill bacteria (which will inhibit meth mouth) clear mucus in back of throat (which will build up from smoking ice, and may possibly absorb some of it), and prevent sore throat. Its really easy-just add table salt to water (not too much). Some people say to use hot water, but there is more bacteria in hot water pipes, so I use cold.

-Biotene Products

These are oral healthcare products designed to combat dry mouth. There is an oral gel that you kind of spread in your mouth and coats it to act like a artificial saliva. It tastes kinda bad (not awful) and feels weird, but it beats dry/cracking skin, and is good for oral health. They also make alcohol-free (alcohol makes dry mouth worse) mouthwash that I find makes me produce a bnch of saliva for like 10-30 minutes, which can be helpful. They have toothpaste, but that is only to not irritate dry mouth. Finally, they have oral mouthspray, which is apparently the best, but I have not tried yet.

-Weed

Weed makes meth smoking more fun I find. Its hard to describe. Go slow as you may have negative anxiety reaction

Positioning:

The pipe will need to be twisted back and forth, so for me, I hold it in the middle of the stem between my middle finger and thumb. This allows me to easily roll the pipe back and forth. The carb is facing the sky/ceiling, and I have the pipe slanted, so the bowl is slightly closer to the floor than the mouthpiece. This allows me to put my index finger over the mouthpiece. so that when I first heat up the bowl all the initial smoke (that you will not yet inhale because it is not super thick and you want to build up a good hit) goes up the stem and is trapped by my finger rather than out through the little carb hole (which it will do when the stem is filled with smoke). Finally, it also allows me to use my pinky to cover the carb (I rarely do this because often the carb is hot).

Lighter

[Torch] Lighter is held in the other hand, underneath the dope in the bowl. Adjust your flame to lowest setting (if you can). While initially hitting the bowl, since your mouth is not on the mouthpiece, you can hold the pipe in front of you while you heat to gaug distance between flame and bowl, and make sure the flame is under the drugs. However, once you begin inhaling, you have a much worse view (through the bowl), and it is easy to hold the lighter too close (or far, but usually close), or to have it not even under the bowl. Due to poor depth perception (which I assume is from the drugs), or some visual warping from the curvature of the glass, its really easy to do this, and happens a lot. A mirror is helpful so you can see yourself. Another option is attaching flexible tubing (like aquarium tubing) to the mouthpiece so you can inhale through that while holding the pipe in front of you. This will also enable you to make meth bongs (search it).

Philosophy of Smoking Meth

Meth becomes a clear liquid when heated, then vaporizes into a white smoke. The idea is to heat whatever you placei n the pipe evenly so that it all melts down to liquid, then, by twisting the pipe, spread the liquid all around the bowl, so that it doesn’t stay in a hot place for too long and burn. Once liquified, the pipe can be twisted. This allows you to put your flame ahead of the liquid (think of the liquid chasing the flame), so that once the glass is heated, it will fall/roll down the curve towards your lighter and smoke. As you get close carb, you begin to twist the other way, keeping the liquid following your flame. However, with a torch lighter, you can soon twist the pipe without the flame and the liquid will still run for a while, and when it doesn’t is when you reapply the flame.

Quick Info On Torch Lighters

Torch lighters are very hot, much hotter than bics. Their flame is much more intense, and the heat above is much hotter than a bic. Therefore, you must keep much more distance between your lighter and pipe than with a bic. It will vary according to lighter type, pipe thickness, and especially flame size; but my flame is maybe between 1/3 and ½ of an inch, and my lighter stays 1-3 inches away from the pipe; with me increasing distance the longer its lit.

-Also, you do not heat the bowl with a torch lighter for long periods of time like you do a bic. Once it begins to smoke, quit using the lighter, and only reapply once the liquid quits moving when you twist the pipe. Also, be sure to twist pipe while lighting the whole time with a torch lighter, even if it is slowly. You cannot really get away with heating in one spot for a short period of time like you can with a bic.

Smoking

Premelt:

-Keeping your flame 1-2 inches below the bowl, roll flame in a circle around the perimeter of your product, so the outermost portion begins to liquify. Remember to continue moving the flame.

-As it begins to liquify, begin twisting the pipe back and forth. You want to heat the edges of the product and then the glass adjacent to the edges to make it flow there. However, when reversing the direction of the twist, make sure to heat the inside/middle for a moment as well so that it will melt once the dope bordering it has melted.

-Eventually you will have a puddle of liquid that is mobile-stop heating! COntinue to twist the pipe to spread the stuff around and wait for it to recrystalize (turn back into a liquid). You can speed this up by touching pipe with damp rag/paper towels/etc, but I like to let it cool by itself the first time. Wait for the pipe to cool down-its worth it.

Smoking

(this is assuming you are covering the mouthpiece and have the pipe angled like I mentioned in positioning)

-Now you should have a thin puddle of clear crystals stuff. Once again, heat with flame around the perimeter (much bigger this time, but it will also melt faster now because its thinner). Once melted, it should soon begin to smoke. Cease lighting once it begins smoking a fair bit and continue to twist.

-Because you have your finger over the mouthpiece and the pipe angled, the hot vapor will travel up the stem, and be trapped. Once vapor begins to emerge out of the carb hole, quickly take your finger off the stem and begin inhaling (do this quick because the stem is filled with vapor).

To Inhale:

You do not need to actually suck most of the time. With the pipe angled, simply forming a seal on the mouthpiece is usually enough, and if you have to inhale, do not suck like smoking. Instead, inhale like you are breathing but VERY slowly/softly. It takes very little pressure and the bigger hit you get, the better IMO.

Reheating

Use the torch for very brief periods of time. Once the liquid is moving and smoking agian, stop. You can also use more, but never use less once its burned.

Finishing your hit:

If your lungs are full and it is still smoking, cover the carb and mouthpiece and continue twisting. I like to hold my hits for 4-8 seconds, some say blow out right away, but I dont like that. You can also use a damp rag or damp paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc and wipe the bowl, to cool it down and make the liquid recrystalize faster (dont do this when the bowl is still super hot because it can break it). This will make it smoke a lot for a second so I like to do it while inhaling.

For Experienced Users:I have found the torch lighter to be far superior to the bic. With the bic, I would experience uneven and slow heating/melting. Now, I have almost instantaneous liquification, followed by thick smoke, and as long as I use the torch sparingly, no darkening of product. The trick is to be patient and methodical:

-Use the torch 1-3 inches away from the bowl

-Move it quickly

-“Encourage” the liquid to trael all over the bowl by leading it with the flame

-Use inward swirling movements, especially during the melting phase

-I recommend using single, squareish crystals for this.