#hope this makes up for my numerous crimes

[ellecdc]

hi my lovely, i was wondering if i might please be able to make a request! absolutely fine if it doesn’t inspire you or you don’t get around to it for a while or you don’t like it it’s no pressure!!

i was just wondering if i might be able to request big brother sirius or best friend barty (my loves) and a reader who is so stressed with classes and workload- ive been having a hard time lately and i feel so out of my depth and its seems that no one else is struggling like me and my adhd really isn’t helping me cause i try and get my work done and i just end up sitting there for hours and then breaking down cause i can’t do it and i just feel so useless

so sorry for going on a tangent i just don’t really have anyone to talk to! again its totally okay if you don’t want to write this just speaking about its made me feel better! i hope you’re doing well my lovely, you bring me so much comfort! and i hope birdy is behaving herself

🪩

cheering you on babes! sorry for the wait in this request, and thanks for your patience in me <3 hope your workload isn't causing you too much grief, and both Big Brother Siri and BFF Barty have asked me to tell you to make sure to take breaks and be nice to yourself!!

please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.

BFF!Barty Crouch Junior x stressed!reader [GN] who Barty forces to take a break

You were on your umpteenth read through of your notes for your upcoming Herbology exam when your books were rudely ripped out from underneath you.

“Hey!” You shouted at the unknown assailant when you raised your head to see Barty carefully piling your notes together and shoving them into his own book bag. “Barty, give them back.”

“No can do, Treasure. Let’s go.” 

You watched, dumbfounded, as Barty began to walk away from your table in the library before he turned around when he realised you weren’t following him. 

“Hello!? Earth to Treasure?” He sing-songed on his way back before he waved a hand in front of your face, which you quickly swatted away.

“Barty, this isn’t funny.”

“I agree.” He answered quickly; his tone garnering a severe quality that made your skin crawl. “You’ve been shacked up in this library for Salazar knows how long, I don’t know when your last real meal was that didn’t consist of tea and Honeydukes sweets, and when was the last time you got fresh air? You know? That stuff that's produced by trees and life and not tainted with the musty smell of old books?”

“Barty, I need to prepare for this exam.” You pressed.

“Which you have, and if you humour me right now, I’ll even help you study more later. Now, let’s go.” He demanded as he took your elbow and hauled you up from the table and dragged you by the wrist unceremoniously behind him. 

After numerous failed attempts at getting Barty to tell you what he was doing, where he was taking you, what he was up to, why he was dragging you across the castle, you spent your trek across the castle grounds in a begrudging silence with only the occasional muttered protest escaping your lips.

Finally, Barty released your wrist as you stopped in front of an expanse of wall encasing the southern grounds near the quidditch pitch that didn’t seem to get much traffic at all.

You watched as your friend dug his arms into the bag much further than should have been humanly possible alerting you to the fact that he had, indeed, cast an illegal undetectable extension charm.

He was going to make you fail your exam and an accomplice to a crime. 

He pulled out a large stack of ceramic plates he no doubt pilfered from the kitchens and placed them beside you before reaching back in and retrieving another stack.

“Barty. What are you doing?”

“Blowing off steam, as the muggles say.” He explained simply as he moved to stand beside you and placed a matching stack of plates on his other side.

“By scrubbing dishes outside like a down-and-out House Elf?” You asked bemusedly as you picked up one of the plates and twisted it around in your hands. They didn’t look dirty.

“Ye have so little faith, dear Treasure.” Barty said theatrically before he launched a plate at the ancient stone wall and watched it shatter before the pieces rained down into the grass below it. 

“Barty!”

“Too much talking, not enough throwing Treasure.” He called over to you as he hurled a second plate at the wall.

“Can you at least tell me why we’re defacing school property?!”

With a long suffering sigh, Barty allowed the plate he’d been in the process of picking up clatter back onto its stack unceremoniously.

Barty moved to stand in front of you, crouching down ever so slightly so as to force you to make direct eye contact with him and placing a hand on each of your shoulders should you consider bolting.

“Alright Treasure, listen. Are you listening? I love you, you’re my best friend, my soulmate, my ride or die, I would live, die, and kill for you; you fucking suck when you’re stressed out. Okay? You’ve been living in that library for a week, you’re barely eating or getting any vitamin D which is already difficult enough in sodding Scotland without you actively avoiding the sun’s rays, and…I miss you.”

You looked between both of his green eyes which oozed nothing but earnestness and concern before letting your shoulders drop.

“Fine, but why are we smashing plates?”

Seemingly trusting you not to take off, Barty returned to his full height with far more pep in his step than he had before he read you like one of your Herbology textbooks.

“Great question! I was trying to decide between this and shoving Gryffindor’s into the Black Lake; I figured you appreciate this better.” He said as he shot you a wink. “Now get throwing, Treasure!”

Deciding that it was folly to try to argue or reason with your…capricious friend, you picked up a plate and lobbed it dutifully at the wall.

What started off as you merely humouring your friend in his antics quickly left you breathless, smiling, and squealing in delight with each smash of a plate. You and Barty spent much of the afternoon cackling and dancing under a shower of broken porcelain before you reparo’d the plates and did it all over again.

You hardly realised the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees when you turned to look at Barty; his face flushed red and a wide grin spread across his face which you were sure was mirrored on your own.

“Thank you, Barty.”

His smile turned softer as he looked at the plate in his hands somewhat abashedly. “No need to thank me, Treasure. You know I’ll always look out for you, ‘specially when you forget to do it yourself.”

“Easy there, Junior; I'll start to think you’re going soft on us.” You teased as you nudged him in the arm with one of your plates.

He scoffed and shoved you away from him. “I will not tolerate this slander.”

“Is it slander if it’s true?”

“Defamation.”

“There’s no one here to hear me.”

“Hey, Y/N!” The sound of James Potter’s voice rung through the air as he walked towards you from the Quidditch pitch. “It’s good to see you outside of the library! I was getting wor-”

You never got to hear what James had been worried about as Barty quickly began lobbing plates in his direction. 

“Barty!” You shouted as James began dodging the assault.

“Sorry, he spooked me.” Barty deadpanned, not sounding sorry at all as he continued throwing plates at the Gryffindor chaser.

“I’ll catch up with you later!” James shouted as he started jogging towards the castle in the opposite direction of his attacker.

“You know, for a quidditch player, you have terrible aim.” You grumbled at your friend as you shot him an unimpressed glare.

He returned your glare in response to your insult. “I’ll have you know, if I wanted to actually hit him, I would have.”

“Soft.”

“Alright, that’s it. Pull out your wand, Treasure.” He barked as he dropped his plates, brandished his wand and took a duelling stance.

“I am not fighting you, Junior.”

“Those were fighting words.”

And before you could retort, he had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder before he began marching towards the castle. 

“What are you doing?!” You squealed as you playfully swung your fist against his back.

“Throwing you in the Black Lake.”

“Barty!”

You didn’t return to the castle until the sun had fully set; feeling tired in a good way and far happier and more relaxed than you had felt in days.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr fluff #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr ficlet #barty crouch jr imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #ellecdc fics

[t-lostinworlds]

Big, Hormonal Heart | Bucky Barnes

》 PAIRING: bucky barnes x pregnant!female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship (marriage), fluff fluff fluff

》 SUMMARY: It'd probably take more than one lifetime for Bucky to list reasons why he was so lucky to call you his wife. He was certain your big heart was one of them. One that grew even more with pregnancy hormones. It was sweet, how you to got so upset when they got his order wrong. Your meal was perfectly fine. But when his wasn't? Oh it was a crime.

》 WARNINGS: pregnancy, a dog named Snow and Alpine the cat, pet names (doll, baby, my love, sweetheart), emotional!r (she cries. like, most of the fic), husband!bucky being the sweetest, domesticity and just overall fluff (pretty tame fic ngl)

》 WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

A/N: this idea was super random. i saw an insta reel of a pregnant woman having mood swings over some food and then everyone was sharing their experiences in the comments and i got inspired so here ya go alksalkss. DISCLAIMER! I'm not pregnant nor have i ever been lol. I did as much research as i could but still, don't count on me to be 100% accurate.

++ ALSO this was written in just a few hours. this isn't my best work. just something i wanted to write as an exercise since i haven't written anything in months. anyways, i hope you enjoy!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ B. BARNES MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

If someone had told him years ago that he was going to live in a quaint home in the suburbs, a lovely backyard space for a dog and a cat to enjoy, and that he'd be married to the absolute love of life, an angel on earth who was now carrying his first child—

He honestly would've stared at them dead in the eye, wondering how someone could make such a cruel joke.

Yet here he was, actually living it, a life that seemed so much like a dream.

Though he was quickly reminded of how real this was as he stood in the nursery, glaring at the manual that came with the crib you two had bought from the furniture store.

It looked simple enough at first—putting together ready-made pieces should be easy, right?

Wrong.

Not when you have countless amounts of screws that more or less looked the same but were actually not because each served a different purpose. 

He was in the middle of figuring out how to install the legs to the main base when you walked into the room with your two bodyguards—Alpine the Cat and Snow the five-year-old Samoyed—in tow.

"How's it going, handsome?" you hummed as you reached his side, arms wrapping around his waist, your warmth immediately easing the frustration he had about this goddamn crib.

"It's…" he sighed, gesturing at the wooden pieces scattered around the floor. "Going."

You laughed at that, kissing his clothed shoulder before standing in front of him.

Bucky held your waist then, pulling you as close as he could given that your baby bump was in the middle of you both.

He honestly couldn't begin to express how much comfort and warmth covered his whole being every time he was met with the absolute love in your eyes.

And Bucky was sure his gaze shined the same.

So many people have pointed it out on numerous occasions, the twinkle in his eyes every time they land on you—his beautiful wife.

"I was thinking," you murmured, resting your hands on his chest, moving up his shoulder and down again in a sweet caress. "How about a quick break while we order some food?"

It was only about an hour after lunch, so Bucky wasn't particularly keen on filling his stomach some more.

But you, on the other hand, were nearing the end of your second trimester. It wasn't out of the norm for you to be hungry at this time, given you were eating for two. Plus, there was an added layer that your little peanut probably had some super soldier serum in their DNA—the baby's appetite could be enhanced for all he knew.

Other than that, the last thing Bucky wanted was an angry and hungry pregnant wife. So it wasn't really a hard decision to make.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat," he said.

Ever the observant person that you were, you quickly noticed his choice of words.

"For me?" you asked, brows furrowed. "You're not hungry?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not really."

Your bottom lip went.

He instantly knew he said the wrong thing.

"But I'm hungry," you murmured, eyes starting to glisten.

He could never explain it even if he tried, but whenever you got upset, your bodyguards always seemed to notice it. The two have always been protective of you and that only grew tenfold when you got pregnant.

Today wasn't an exception.

Snow barked at him, whining his complaints as he put his fifty-pound body between your legs, slightly pushing Bucky back. The furball was well trained though, so his protectiveness never went too far beyond being vocal about it. Alpine, on the other hand, was sitting a foot away, glaring at Bucky—quite the traitor given that she was supposed to be his cat, but he couldn't blame her for loving you, either—as if she knew it was his fault you were upset.

But still, Bucky wasn't quite sure what he'd done wrong.

"I know, sweetheart," he said slowly, a little confused, trying to navigate around Snow who was pawing at his leg as if trying to push him further away. "I'll order some food for you."

"But you're not hungry," you repeated, body slumping with sadness.

"I'm not," he agreed, quickly cupping your face when a tear slipped from your eyes. "But hey, hey, that doesn't mean we can't still order food for you, doll."

"No, I know," you sniffled.

"So, what's making you upset, hmm?"

You buried your face in his chest with a shaky breath as you said,

"I don't want to eat alone."

Bucky paused, pressing his lips and swallowing down a laugh because he couldn't have you thinking he was making fun of you. He wasn't. But you were so adorable it made his chest ache.

"Okay, okay," he hummed, kissing the side of your head as he rubbed your back in comfort. "I'll order something for me, too."

•••

A few minutes later, your little family migrated to the living room. You both were sitting on the couch together, the two furballs sprawled at your feet as a random show played on TV. Various take-out bags covered the coffee table, way too many for two people but hey, that's what fridges and microwaves are for.

Fondness filled Bucky's bones as he watched you settle your food on your lap, doing what he called your Cravings Satisfied Wiggle.

He couldn't contain his chuckle.

You looked at him with furrowed brows, words a little muffled with your mouth full. "What?"

"Happy?" he asked, reaching over to wipe the sauce on the corner of your mouth.

"Very much," you giggled, eyes wrinkling at the corners.

Even after all these years, the sight of your pure joy still made his heart stutter, chest growing warmer when you leaned closer with a pout.

Bucky met you halfway for a short yet sweet kiss.

"Thank you," you hummed, even though there was no need for you to thank him for ordering you food.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Reaching over the table, he took the one and only paper bag that was for him, because again, he wasn't that hungry.

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" You turned to him in concern.

"It's not a big deal," he reassured with a smile, shrugging because it really wasn't. "They got mine wrong."

You frowned. "You didn't get the nuggets?"

"No, they give me the burger meal," he said. "They must've misheard me.

Bucky immediately perked up when your lips started to tremble.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, cupping your face to wipe away your tears.

"You—" you sniffled. "You didn't get your nuggets."

Bucky pressed his lips to stop a smile.

God you were so fucking cute.

"It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I'm fine with a burger, too."

You cried even harder.

Snow and Alpine quickly stood, all alert and concerned as they nudged your leg.

"You wanted the nuggets, Bucky," you insisted, choking back a sob. "But you didn't get it."

He carefully pulled you closer, rubbing your back in comfort as you laid your head on his shoulder. "I know, but it's okay—"

"No, it's not!" you protested, all teary and frustrated, pulling away to glare at him. "You deserve to get what you want. Y-You deserve all the good things after e-everything."

Bucky might honestly start crying too with how sweet you were being.

"Oh doll, come here," he placated, pulling you in for a hug while trying to navigate the food on your lap.

He could take it away for safety, but he'd already learned his lesson the hard way. Taking food away from a pregnant woman was a death sentence.

"I want you to be happy," you sniffled, burying your face against his neck. "You wanted the nuggets and they disrespected that."

It took so much for him not to let out a chuckle. Because as much as Bucky hated to see you crying and upset, he couldn't deny how adorably funny this whole conversation was.

But you'd always had the biggest heart. Whether that was crying over those rescue animal videos, emotional scenes in movies, to feeling upset over something he was experiencing—your empathy was always high.

What more with the pregnancy hormones in the mix?

"How about I ask them to change it?"

Again, wrong thing to say.

He needed to get better at this.

"But they're probably so stressed and overworked already," you sobbed. "A-And it's about to rain. I don't want the delivery guy to get wet in the rain. T-They already don't get paid enough."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he hummed, rubbing your back. "Will you look at me, my love?"

You lifted your head then, Bucky's heart aching at the absolute distress on your features—pout in full play, eyes a little bloodshot with tear stains on your skin.

He cupped your cheeks with a soft smile, placing gentle kisses all over your face, unrelenting until you let out a whine of protest. He stopped then, thankful to see that you'd calmed down now.

"I promise you, the burger meal is perfectly fine with me. I'm not mad or upset about it. I don't mind it at all," he said.

You took a calming deep breath and nodded. It only took a second for you to look at him sheepishly.

"Sorry I overreacted," you whispered, embarrassed.

"Hey, none of that," he lightly scolded. "All the emotions you're feeling will always be valid."

You smiled, small yet sweet, leaning in and kissing him with as much gratitude as you could muster.

"Besides, it makes me feel so honored to know that you're willing to fight for my chicken nugget rights."

"Shut up, Barnes."

•••

You and Bucky always had a nightly routine and it usually consisted of the two of you getting ready for bed in your own different ways. They were intertwined, but not exactly the same. Like you'd be doing some skin care in the bathroom while he would be brushing his teeth.

But ever since you got pregnant, your routine became more in sync.

It usually started with a bath that he'd run for you. Most of the time he'd end up joining you, the length of said bath varying since that usually depended on what mood you were in. Bucky was always at the service of meeting his wife's needs, after all.

Recently, now that your bump wasn't particularly easy to navigate, he'd helped you get ready for bed. From getting dressed to your skin care, including rubbing some moisturizer on your stomach. That part was one of his favorite things to do.

Then it was the typical things, getting dressed, brushing your teeth—this one you stopped him from doing it for you even though he was more than willing—and overall just getting ready for bed.

Once you’d settled on the pregnancy pillow that Bucky fluffed up for you, he'd sit near the foot of the bed to give your sore feet a massage while you read a book.

Tonight, right when he was in the middle of doing that, he heard you sniffle.

Bucky looked up in concern, catching you already staring at him with tears already in your eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking you over. "Does something hurt?"

"No, I-I'm okay. I just—" You cut yourself off with a sob.

Bucky quickly moved beside you, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your form. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, body shaking as you cried.

"Hey, hey, talk to me," he murmured against your hair. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's just—" You let out a shaky breath. "You're always taking care of me."

"Of course, sweetheart, you're my wife," he said. "And not only because it's my duty as your husband, but because I love you so much."

That made you cry even harder.

"I l-love you too, so much," you sobbed. "But I haven't been able to take care of you lately and that's not f-fair."

Bucky felt his heart grow as if it wasn't already bursting at the seams.

How could someone be so selfless and sweet?

"You're pregnant, my love," he stated the obvious reason as to why. "Besides, I'm capable of taking care of myself. It's alright."

"No, it's not," you argued, pulling away slightly to face him. "You deserve to be taken care of, too! You deserve to get pampered a-and a break but you're always fussing over me and taking care of me instead. I'm not helping with any of it. I'm just making it harder for you."

"No, absolutely not," he stated firmly, holding your face in his hands, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. "I love taking care of you. It honestly makes me feel so fulfilled and happy when I do."

"Really?" you sniffled.

"Yes. It's the least I could do with everything that you've been going through right now," he said truthfully, adding with a chuckle, "Hell, if I could carry our baby so you wouldn't have to go through all the pain I would."

That earned him a small laugh.

"But I want to take care of you, too," you admitted after a deep breath.

"You already are," he hummed, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. "You're taking care of our baby and my heart, and those are very important to me."

You scrunched up your nose adorably.

"That was so cheesy."

"But it's true, though."

You smiled, cupping his face. Bucky turned his head to kiss your palm.

"Thank you," you sighed fondly. "For putting up with me and for everything."

"First off, I'm not putting up with anything," he reassured, kissing your other palm before adding, "Second, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. Never."

You nodded, leaning closer to press your lips against his, pouring all your love and gratitude into it. Bucky kissed you back with the same fervor, never needing words to express what you truly feel for each other.

He felt so content—feeling your lips, your fingers tangled in his hair, and your little peanut asking for attention too, kicking the second Bucky rested hand on your bump.

When you let out a soft, needy whine, he was ready to take the kiss even further.

That was until a wet tongue met his cheek.

Bucky groaned in annoyance, pulling away to see Snow giving you a kiss, too. He couldn't be angry at the dog for ruining the moment when your lovely laugh echoed in the air. Alpine jumped on the bed a second later, nudging her head against Bucky's chin before walking over to place a loving paw on your bump.

His smile was as bright as it could be as he watched the scene before him.

A wonderful home, a wholesome family that involved his beautiful, loving wife and two furballs, his family that was only getting bigger in a few months—

Yeah.

Bucky Barnes was one lucky man.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

↬ thank you for reading lovely! reblog & leave a comment if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated! ++ consider supporting me on ko-fi if you can!

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© t-lostinworlds, 2023 ✘ I do NOT give any permission to repost, translate, & use any of my works (writings, gifs, dividers, etc.) on any platform, with credit or otherwise. Please respect that. Thank you.

#bhh #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert #sebastian stan #my writing

[irisintheafterglow]

blood moonlit, must be counterfeit

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)

wc: 1.68k

cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”

“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”

“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”

“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 

The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 

“Who’d you come to the party with?”

“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”

“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.

“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 

“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”

“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”

“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”

“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”

“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.

“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 

“What about him?”

“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 

“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”

“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.

“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 

“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”

“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 

Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 

“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“See what, gorgeous?”

“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.

Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 

“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”

“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”

“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 

“If someone messes with us?”

“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

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

[stillunusual]

The word "Nazi" has a specific meaning to normal people, but to vatniks and tankies it has five basic meanings…. "anybody I don't like" "anybody who disagrees with me" "anybody who's a citizen of a country that Russia wants to invade" "anybody who opposed or simply didn't want to live in one of the tyrannical regimes I simp for" "anybody who was oppressed or killed by one of my favourite mass murderers" EDITED TO ADD: a tankie clown reblogged this post and made some typically asinine comments, so I thought I'd elaborate a little bit…. Tankie clown: @well1x is either referring to the fact that a lot of the "deaths under communism" listed in "the black book of communism" (which gives us the 10 million number or whatever) are quite literally Nazis in WWII, or they're referring to the fact that the only people who have been made to deliberately suffer under communism have been literal Nazis and fascists (generally speaking)

Joining the tankie cult requires you to live in a delusional clown world and believe in a shit ton of made up (and often contradictory) nonsense that requires a considerable repertoire of mental gymnastics (and lies) to maintain….

@well1x is literally trying to claim that all victims of communism are "nazis and facists" (sic), which - back in the real world - is a very obvious lie. It's also a blatant example of victim blaming. For example, most of the millions of men, women and children who were robbed, raped, imprisoned, sent to the gulags, tortured, starved to death, executed or ethnically cleansed by Stalin's henchmen were not Nazis or fascists, and many were innocent of any crime. The vast majority of the population in Stalin's Soviet Union also had to put up with crippling poverty and backwardness, the brutal suppression of their religious and community life and the total lack of freedom.

Based on his comment, I doubt if the tankie clown has ever read "the black book of communism" and I'm also not sure why he mentions this book in particular, when there are thousands of others that thoroughly document the numerous crimes of the regimes tankies insist on being the useful idiots for, and I think it's safe to assume that he hasn't read any of those books either (in fact, I doubt if he's ever read any book whatsoever)…. Tankie clown: Karina then shows an image of (presumably) some kids in the Ukraine famine. This is completely unrelated though because this famine was not manufactured by the USSR as say the Irish famine was by the English. Can't really attribute natural disaster to "muh communism"

Again - a typical genocide-denying tankie lie.

Tankies generally start by saying that the holodomor was Nazi propaganda, and when you debunk that they claim it was just a natural disaster, and when that doesn't work they make up some bullshit about how millions of farmers who barely had enough to live on were wealthy kulaks who burned crops and slaughtered cattle (and therefore deserved to die). And when you point out that the red army actually broke into their homes and confiscated all their grain, every cow or chicken or any other food they had, and that the Soviet authorities blacklisted villages, sometimes purely for containing relatives of Ukrainian independence fighters, and prevented the villagers from leaving, shot them for even collecting ears of grain from the fields, and watched them starve to death - tankies will just deny it, or laugh, or pretend that millions of holodomor victims were all rich landlords (and therefore deserved to die) etc etc….

I've also never seen English people pretending that the Irish famine never happened, or claiming that the victims deserved it, or that it was a good thing, or that Britain should re-conquer Ireland. On the other hand, it's difficult not to notice Stalin's smooth-brained groupies swarming all over social media every day denying or justifying the holodomor and other crimes of Russia and the USSR, and hoping that Russia not only re-conquers Ukraine but also Finland, the Baltics, Poland and other countries it has invaded and occupied in the past.

There's no point trying to reason with tankies using facts, logic or common sense - and appealing to their sense of decency while they're simping for their favourite mass murderers is a complete waste of time. Tankie clown: Karina then says @well1x is defending imperialism(???), defending ethnic cleansing (which …what??), dreaming about labour camps and mass shootings (for Nazis yes plz), and does not do any praxis (based on?).

Yep - most tankie clowns claim to be communists while simultaneously embracing Russian fascism, supporting the imperialism of Russia’s mega-rich ruling class, mindlessly repeating the Kremlin's propaganda and cheerleading their war crimes. These morons seem to have no idea that the Russian Federation is an empire made up of many conquered states that Russia invaded, occupied and colonised in the 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th centuries, or that Russia's war against Ukraine is a brutal attempt to reassert control over one of its former colonies. Russia's history of imperialism is at least as bad as that of any western country - and they're still doing it in the 21st century.

And I have seen countless examples of tankies speaking openly of wanting to mass murder their ideological enemies (or people they don't like) - because they also delude themselves into believing that if their revolutionary dreams ever came true, they'd be the ones doing the arresting and killing, despite the fact that in a real revolution they'd be about as much use as a fart in a spacesuit. They also have no idea how their small dick energy is somehow going to bring capitalism to its knees, which they'd inevitably end up crying about if it ever actually happened in reality.

Most of them are complete losers who spend the majority of their time sitting in their bedrooms huffing their own farts while reading tankie fan fiction online. Tankie clowns also claim to be against western imperialism and capitalism, despite living comfortable lives in western capitalist countries and owing everything they have to capitalism, including the freedom to use their capitalist smartphones or laptops to post anti-capitalist tantrums on social media platforms owned by western capitalists (thus helping these western capitalists to maximise their profits).

This is generally the sum total of a typical tankie's - ahem - "revolutionary" activity.

The vast majority of tankie clowns wouldn't dream of ever giving up the comforts of capitalism to move to one of the authoritarian shitholes they stupidly simp for, because then they might not be able to play their favourite capitalist video games anymore….

It's also a fact that Russia and the USSR have ethnically cleansed millions of people. Tankie clown: OP takes this insane train all the way to the station, and says @well1x is talking about anyone they don't like which… no. They're talking about the traditional Nazis.

No - they're falsely claiming that all victims of communism are Nazis and fascists. Learn to read…. Tankie clown: But also let's break this down. Who does OP think is being called a Nazi? "anyone I don't like" I mean I don't like Nazis, but I don't think everyone I don't like is one lmao. Funny tho, dude throws around the word tankie until it has no meaning.

In my experience, if you disagree with tankies about anything, they will pretty soon call you a fascist or a Nazi. It's they who throw around words like "fascist" and "Nazi" until they have no meaning (and most of them hilariously claim to be opposed to fascism while simultaneously supporting it - if it happens to be Russian). Tankie clown: - "anyone who disagrees with me" if you disagree that all human beings deserve to live a dignified life regardless of race/sex/gender identity/sexual orientation/age/disability/whatever then yeah you probably are a Nazi

Straw man. See above….

It's also amusing to observe the doublethink of somebody who apparently believes that "all human beings deserve to live a dignified life" while simultaneously thinking that when his favourite mass murderers oppressed and/or killed huge numbers of people it was perfectly OK…. Tankie clown: - "anyone who's a citizen of a country that Russia wants to invade" why the fuck are we talking about Russia? Believe it or not OP, USSR does not stand for "United Soviet States of Russia" lmaoooo

We're talking about Russia because most tankie clowns support Russian imperialism and mindlessly parrot the Kremlin's propaganda about how Russia's latest invasion of Ukraine is some sort of special de-nazification operation (see above). Tankies are generally so ignorant, gullible and stupid that they will literally believe anything the Kremlin tells them…. Tankie clown: - "anyone opposed or simply didn't want to live in one of the tyrannical regimes I simp for" tyrannical regimes lmao. These were only "tyrannical regimes" for people who actually were in fact Nazis.

Again - this is the kind of reality-denying nonsense I'd expect to hear from a tankie clown. One thing that really appalls people in the central and eastern European countries that experienced the reality of being occupied by the USSR and/or Russia, is the staggering ignorance and stupidity of western useful idiots who have no idea what it was actually like, and are not only dumb enough to join the tankie cult, but insist on westsplaining to the victims and their descendants about how the horrors they and their families suffered (usually for doing literally nothing) either didn't happen ("cuz the CIA made it all up") or claiming that they somehow deserved it ("cuz they were all Nazis/fascists/kulaks/slave owners").

Back in the real world, these were tyrannical regimes for tens of millions of ordinary people who had done nothing to deserve being subjected to tyranny…. Tankie clown: - "anyone who was oppressed or killed by one of my favourite mass murderers" yeah basically that's what I've been saying.

Thanks for proving my point….

And please note that smoking weed on your mum's sofa isn't actually going to bring the world revolution closer.

That was just a joke…. 🤣😂

#vatnik #tankie #tankie clownland #useful idiot #keyboard warrior #ignorance is strength #history #communism #ukraine #holodomor #soviet union #ussr

[raainberry]

Corrupt Kisses

« silly series - 12 »

synopsis - is corruption really a crime if it’s Sana’s kisses?

wordcount - 725

A/N - finally fought back writers block, we cheered🥳 (i am losing)

You never found your name special until you heard Sana say it. There was something behind the way she sounded it out; a feeling, a meaning. It felt as though it meant something to her. Something bigger than you could ever understand.

You knew it had something to do with the obvious love and affection she felt for you, yet you couldn’t quite tell the reason. Why she felt this way about you was beyond you, but you’d be a fool not to accept it.

You just hoped her love ran as deep as yours did for her, and it seemed like it. Especially when she left those sweet, soft kisses all over your face for whatever reason.

The small glimpses of happiness you caught on her glowing features felt unreal. Your heart fluttered at the sight every time, confused and unable to process how such beauty was reserved for you and only you.

That feeling, along with the overwhelming amount of love pouring out of her lips in those moments, often made you dizzy. The only thing you could grasp and distinguish was her giggles, her voice as she teased you about how you loved it despite all your grimacing and whining.

“Y/n…” Sana sung, dodging your hands and arms as you tried to push her love away. She managed to steal a few kisses here and there, weakening your defense, but you held up.

All those kisses were all fun and games until she used them against you, baiting and bribing you on the regular over harmless and ridiculous tasks. Last time she did, you found yourself carrying her home on your back for several blocks. She was well aware of her power, you enjoyed it, but maybe it was time for restrictions…

“Can you please help me?” She whined through giggles as you crossed your arms over your face. That way she couldn’t numb your common sense with that sweet love of hers.

“You’re so foul, Sana, using my love for your dirty jobs!” You wiped her kisses off your cheeks and she scoffed.

“I am not using you! I’m just asking you to do me a little favor.” She argued, playing with the collar of your shirt.

You sighed, dropping your arms below your nose to peek at her. Her eyes immediately met yours, abandoning the fabric between her fingers in order to put her full focus on that pout you couldn’t say no to.

“That’s the same thing.” You pointed out, taking her aback.

Had she lost her charm? Why didn’t it work? Did you fall out of love? Her thoughts were far from reasonable until she felt your hands cupping her face, lightly squishing her cheeks together and smiling at the sight of her. “Admit it.”

“Only if you actually help me.” She said, still pouting but in an angry way now, letting you know she was set on making you fold.

In a way, you could understand her dedication. She had gotten herself in a bit of trouble by hosting the latest get together with her friends. Her living room was a hot mess, to the point your jaw dropped when you walked in moments ago. You guessed it hasn’t been long since she woke up when you saw her bedhead dragging a trashbag, lazily pulling and grabbing whatever waste was closest to her.

“Last time I helped you it took us hours, I’m not going through this again!” You told her as your mind flashed back to the terrifying memories of that one day (also known as Sana’s birthday morrow).

“But it was different, that was like the whole apartment…”

“That’s not at all why it took us hours.” You reminded her, and a smile creeped on her lips as she remembered the numerous ways you’d gotten side tracked.

“Okay, but it won’t take long if we actually stick to cleaning up.”

“No kisses, no snack breaks, no breather, nothing.” You warned and she shook her head, agreeing to the conditions.

“Only cleaning up, I promise.” She said before stealing a kiss from your lips. “Starting from now.”

You could only blink and stare as she slipped away from your hold, her melodious giggles letting you know how proud she was of herself.

“I can still leave and let you deal with this alone, you know?” You said, trying to erase the blush from her kiss.

“Sure you can, but you won’t.” She smiled, sure of herself.

And she had every reason to be.

#twice x reader #sana x reader #sana imagines #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana fluff #twice sana #minatozaki sana

[fluentmoviequoter]

i was wondering if you can do like a secret admirer / friends to lovers thing with tim bradford? like reader or tim are sending each other notes and get them something that they’ve mentioned before but never had time or the resources to get. sorry if that sounds confusing

I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted; if it's not, let me know and I'd be happy to try again! Thanks for the great request and please feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Secret Admirers

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, friends to lovers, obliviousness, brief LA Rams slander

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“How am I supposed to consider you a friend when you say things like that?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head. “You’re just mad because I’m right.”

“There are other things to do besides football,” you argue.

“I thought it was my night to pick.”

“You always pick football.”

“The Rams are playing.”

You sigh dramatically, leaning against Tim’s shoulder. “Fine, turn on the game, let me lose a few more IQ points.”

Tim’s shoulder moves below you, the only sign that he’s laughing at your actions. If you didn’t want to watch football, he wouldn’t make you, because he’s a good friend. No one knows; you only got close to him because of your relentless pursuit of getting to know him. And now you’re inseparable.

“You know you’re my closest friend?” you ask.

“Then you should get out more,” he deadpans.

“You love me.”

“Whatever you need to hear.”

“Tell me I’m your best friend and I’ll tell you the Rams are making it to the Super Bowl.” You lower your voice to add, “For once.”

Tim’s eyes narrow as he moves to look at you. “You have to mean it.”

Nodding, you put on your most serious expression.

“You are my best friend,” Tim says.

You smile brightly, and Tim presses his lips together to hide his smile.

“The Rams are going to the Super Bowl. Guaranteed,” you tell him.

“Well now they are. You’re our luck,” Tim mumbles, leaning back against the couch again.

“Heard that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You haven’t seen Tim in almost a week. After the game ended, a win for the Rams, he got called into work and has barely been home since. Just long enough to sleep and eat each night before he’s gone again. Los Angeles has been dealing with numerous crime sprees, like a miniature version of the Purge that the Mid-Wilshire Division faces singlehandedly.

Your stomach rumbles around lunchtime, and as you reach for your bag, you realize Tim probably hasn’t had a good meal this week. Dialing the number of his favorite restaurant, you place a huge order to be delivered to the station, not even thinking about letting Tim know who it’s from.

Knowing Tim has food he’ll enjoy, you rest a little easier and continue your day with a small smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey,” Tim sighs, letting you inside. “Sorry I’ve been so busy this week.”

“No problem, glad you’re home.”

“You’ll never guess what happened,” he says. “Someone sent a ton of food from my favorite restaurant yesterday afternoon. The timing was perfect; we were all exhausted and starving. And… it’s been so long since someone just did something nice for me like that.”

Tim smiles as he shakes his head gently.

“I wish I knew who it was from so I could thank them properly.”

You consider telling him, but first, you ask, “Think it’s a secret admirer?”

Tim barks out a single laugh. “Yeah, because this is going to become a regular thing.”

That’s all the answer you need. Keeping your mouth closed, you nod and become Tim Bradford’s secret admirer. He deserves everything and more, and it’s up to you to show him.

You’ve always felt something for Tim, and as you start taking note of little things he likes or wants, you avoid confronting what these feelings could really be.

✯✯✯✯✯

“More to come,” you say as you finish writing the letter.

After a few days of giving Tim small gifts and becoming more attuned to his wants and likes, you add handwritten notes to your deliveries to add a personal level. He hasn’t seen your writing enough to determine you are his secret admirer, so you give him the acknowledgment and words of affirmation he craves, often without knowing.

Securing the note to the top of the box, a new Rams jersey, you smile. Being Tim’s secret admirer makes you happy, but more than that, it makes Tim happy, which is the one thing you want in the world.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim opens the box before the letter, his eyes widening at the brand-new, once-worn Rams jersey. Closing it quickly, he reaches for the letter before stopping. Tim feels strange accepting the gifts, especially one that is so expensive. But, if whoever this is wants to do something so kind, the least he can do is accept them. It’s not just about the money, though, Tim realizes. His thoughts often drift to you, and he can’t place why, but he still wonders if accepting something from others will create a rift in his relationship with you.

First, it’s not too expensive. You deserve so much more than you would ever be willing to get for yourself. So, accept it and enjoy it.

Tim shakes his head; whoever wrote this knows him better than he thought. They’re probably close.

Happiness isn’t something you have to earn or prove you are worthy of.

Closing the card and tucking it underneath the jersey, Tim prepares to leave for the day. After stowing the thoughtful gift from his secret admirer in his backseat, he drives to a nearby store to pick up a few things for dinner.

While shopping, Tim sees something you have always wanted but have never been able to afford. After receiving so many kind gifts and hearing the exact words he unknowingly craves, he feels a strong urge to give you something you want and deserve, too.

It's after dark when he leaves the store, so Tim decides to put it on your porch in the morning as a surprise. You’ll know his writing, so he prints a note that you deserve nice things, even when you don’t feel like you do.

Once it’s safely on your porch before sunrise, and Tim is driving to the station, he realizes that he doesn’t like having a secret admirer. Not because he doesn’t like the gifts or the money spent on him, but because he doesn’t want to lose you if the secret admirer wants more.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tears gather in your eyes when you see the gift on your porch. After years of daydreaming about spending that kind of money on something you love and then talking yourself out of it with an argument that you don’t deserve it, you don’t know what to do. The note attached to it silences each of the thoughts racing through your mind.

Being a secret admirer and having one are very different things, and you’re not sure you like this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Each gift Tim receives over the next week deepens his frown, even as he reads the kind notes attached. He wants to know who it is, so he can explain that he’s grateful, but it needs to stop. You’ve stayed at his side through each letter, glad that someone is being kind. Tim’s contention comes from the fact that when he gets something, he wants to call you and share it with you, but that may not be fair to you. Yes, he’s your secret admirer, but he doesn’t want to lose you because of his. It’s probably an irrational fear, but if someone is doing this and expecting to move forward into a real relationship with Tim, he can’t. He won’t.

On Friday, the end of his first week as your secret admirer, he sends you a bouquet, not made of flowers, but of things that constitute your favorite hobby. It’s incredibly thoughtful, and the note comes straight from his heart. He mentions something specific about your past, smiling as he pictures your excited smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you accept the large arrangement, your eyes widen as you reach for the card first. The last line mentions something you’ve only talked about once. The one time you confided about it to someone was to Tim Bradford.

Your jaw drops as you realize that Tim is the only person who could have been doing this over the last week. That means he probably knows that you’re his secret admirer, too. Grabbing your car keys, you drive straight to the station, ready to tell Tim it’s been you and you meant every word you said.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Who dropped it off?” Tim demands.

“Sergeant,” the woman begins.

“Don’t tell me that it was a delivery, they have to give a name. I need to know who is giving me this stuff because I can’t accept it!”

You stop in the hallway, listening to Tim’s raised voice as he refuses to accept a gift. 

“I can look into it.”

“Please do,” Tim says, quieter.

Stepping out of the hall and walking toward the bullpen, Tim sees you, and his shoulders drop in relief. He walks to your side and leads you somewhere private to talk.

“You don’t want a secret admirer anymore?” you ask softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the envelope hidden behind your back.

“No.”

“Why not?”

 Tim sighs, rubbing his hand on his jaw before answering, “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

Even though you were sure the letter was from him, you drop your eyes and begin second-guessing yourself. Maybe you mentioned it to someone else, or they just found out. Tim notices your change and steps closer.

“What’s going on?” he asks gently.

“Nothing, I just- I should go.”

You rush out, and Tim can’t chase you because he has to work. He calls and texts you throughout the rest of the afternoon, growing grumpier with each ignored message and ring.

When he finally gets off work, he drives straight to you and knocks on your door, determined to get answers.

“I thought it was you,” you admit, opening the door and not letting him speak. “I was getting letters too and I thought they were from you.”

Tim’s anger dissipates nearly immediately with your soft voice and downcast eyes. “They were. The letters were from me.”

“Then-“

“That’s why I can’t let whoever is sending me such thoughtful gifts continue,” Tim interrupts. “Because I have feelings for you.”

You pull Tim inside, leaning against the door as you say, “But it's all been from me.”

Tim’s eyes widen, and his mouth gapes open as you pass him an envelope. He opens it, nearly choking on air as he sees two tickets to the next Rams game.

“Why didn’t you just tell me at the station?” he asks, looking between you and the tickets before moving toward you.

“You said you were in love with someone else,” you answer with a shrug.

Tim chuckles, letting you see his smile as he bends to look into your eyes. “Because I didn’t know it was you.”

“I was going to tell you. At the game, if you’d let me go.” You fiddle with your fingers until he slides his hand between yours.

“I have a better idea.”

“What?”

Tim sets the tickets on the table behind him. Turning toward you, he takes your face between his hands and kisses you. His slow, languid movements reinforce everything he has expressed through his actions and written words over the past week.

You gasp when his lips meet yours, clutching his shirt in your grasp as you kiss him, letting your actions speak yet again.

“Will you go out with me?” Tim asks, breathless as he pulls back, his hands dropping to your waist. “Some walking angel gave me a few Rams tickets, and I’d love to take you.”

“Depends,” you answer with a hum. “What are your thoughts on secret admirers?”

Tim squeezes your waist gently. “I love mine.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #fem!reader #requests

[shadesoflsk]

MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Adam & Eve

A political candidate has been found dead and a well known agent is working alongside you. Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.

Chapter 1

pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader

warnings: Rivals to lovers (Kinda one sided at first because reader doesn't get along with men) misogyny, sexism (from the press) gore, violence, death, suicide, blood, mentions of kidnapping and experimentations, fucked up government.

author's note: Hi! So, this took me longer than I expected lol. I had to delete and redo so many parts but at last I'm comfortable with the result. This is basically an introduction to both characters hence the name I gave to this chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Blinded by the constant flashes of cameras, numerous police officers make their way out of the tumultuousness of journalists and reporters who have gathered —in the name of informing— to be the first ones to publish headlines that will surely raise more commotion in the already horror-stuck citizens.

Thank God the scene of the crime is away from those prying eyes that won’t hesitate to snap a picture or two just for the sake of popularity or being contacted by those trashy and shitty newspapers that fall into the sensationalism homicides and crimes attract. 

The eighties are certainly… one of a hell decade to live in. Exuberant neon lights and flashy outfits weren’t enough to silence the crimes that were occurring each day in a city led by white-collared dicks who are ‘better than anyone else.’ The citizens’ words, not yours.

It was easy to despise everyone right now. From those politicians who share their condolences but deep down they have the same fucked up ideal and sentiment—they were happy their enemies keep dying. To the obtuse and short-sighted journalists who kept asking the same questions.

Not even your disdain and witty answers could push them away to the hell hole they came from. Catchy and well-sold tabloids were their objectives and you were the perfect subject to them. A woman in the eighties being the leader of a politic-related case? Oh God, the newspaper loves dragging down women.

Misogynistic terms were chanted even more than the national damn anthem. “God, spare us from a woman leading this case!” “Is this a new gold digger searching for a politician that isn’t dead?” Those were the most ‘tame’ titles they could come up with. However, rumor has it that directors and journalists love calling you names. Ultimately, those whispers die down as soon as the window from your Porsche 959 rolls down and the flashes of cameras turn your way.

“Ma’am we received news that the body you found was in fact, Mr. Clark. Our Major Candidate. Is there any clue this time?” The young journalist asked you. He was definitely a rookie, that ma’am that fell so easily from his lips, and his stance gave it away. Maybe you could be softer with him, aggressiveness was starting to wear you off.

You take out your sunglasses, the snaps of the pictures get harder to bear but for once, you try holding eye contact with this said journalist. In his gaze, you admire his inexperience and eagerness to get something out of this conversation.

Sadly, there’s nothing to offer from a lifeless body and a pool of blood that could flood the entire apartment of the deceased.

“It’s still unknown. We shall wait for the forensic team to provide us with the results of the autopsy.” Your voice is uninterested, an automatic reaction each time a question is asked. 

“So… The police department is once again showing signs of inability to complete a case?”

Fuck them all. All of them.

A few hours ago, you had received a call which informed you about the disappearance of a candidate, a major candidate. Of course, a crime would occur when the elections were just around the corner. A perfect scenario to bring the already most famous and glamorized case in the decade more mystery and gore.

A disappearance meant a homicide, it would take just minutes before you were notified that a body had been found. 

And you were right.

Eventually, a coworker of yours informed you—with an annoyed expression on their face— that a drained body was found in an apartment. 

Working on two cases simultaneously was definitely tiring, and it was starting to show on your face. On one hand, multiple crimes are occurring in Raccoon City, all of them involving people from high society: CEOs, ex-presidents, and candidates. Idle good-for-nothing people who can wipe their asses with a one hundred dollar bill, to put it simply.

Difficult to deal with was an understatement. Everyone at the police station knew one thing though— someone important is leaking information. This said individual doesn’t want to get their hands dirty with blood. Acting like a vendetta, in the darkness, they are cleaning the government in a way.

However, the catch of this case was rather sui generis—not even decipherable. Corruption was the root of all problems and it even showed in various scenes of the crime. Politicians were found dead in certain ways that didn’t match up with their own lifestyles. Suicides, disappearances, homicides without a murder weapon. Someone important must be behind all of this and those victims were merely their pawns.

And on the other hand, a case that seems to get more sinister and fucked up was brimming in the shadows. One that also involved those who justice can’t reach. Besides politicians disappearing, numerous citizens were also missing without a trace. Families were left alone without their breadwinning fathers, without their nurturing mothers, and especially without their loved ones.

The government’s reputation was unmistakable, they didn’t care. Protests were organized without any response or reassurance that a solution would be provided. And then again, the damnation and torment of those who searched through hell and earth was once again brought to them.

Without further ado, you walked out of the police department and embarked on the fantastic journey of seeing another dead body. Not the best sight to see after having your lunch but if you don't go, no one else will. 

You arrived at the scene of the crime and luckily, you didn’t run into any reporters, word hadn’t reached them yet. You showed your ID to the cops that surround the apartment complex, they let you in.

The excruciating silence as you wait in the elevator was always agonizing. It allowed your mind to create the most gut wrenching scenarios. You’re a veteran at this point, you have seen 10 dead politicians over the course of the months. However, it doesn’t get any easier.

The first thing that welcomed you as the door of the elevators opened again was the metallic smell of blood. With a deep breath, you fixed your hair and expected the worst. 

“Good morning everyone.” Your voice rang through the living room of the apartment. There was no trace of violence or self defense, but the rancid reek continued filling your nostrils. Nonetheless, the authority in your voice never faltered, you simply didn’t allow it.

Acting tough was the norm and giving no shit about anyone was the rule that followed. It’s always been like that. You can’t crack jokes or show a smile just like your male superiors can. Bullshit, you thought. People love saying that the 80s are the best, but everyone is fucking misogynistic. 

When you saw that your team had your attention, you proceeded. “Where’s the body?”

“Inside.” A cop said. He was a veteran, the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the one-word phrase told you as much. “There’s a federal agent there, though.”

A federal agent?

It was a matter of time before the government decided to send one of its people. They should have after the first one. But as you already know, they’re scavengers, they don’t give a damn about the country nor themselves. If the death of a candidate could bring more votes to another party, they would close their eyes for the sake of it. 

“Anything I may know before going inside?” You ask. 

“Nothing much. The state of the body is the same as the ones we have found before.” The dull and repetitive tone of his voice was proof of how everyone was getting frustrated with this case. “Although this one really looks like a suicide.”

Interesting, a politician who actually killed himself instead of being killed.

“Thank you.” Your legs worked on their own and strode off to where the body was. The main bedroom. For a moment, you hesitated to turn the knob around. Your eyes were fixated on your red nails —the same color you’re expected to see once you enter the room.

And you were right, your gaze which was now looking at the floor only witnessed the ruby red color that painted the rug. And, as your eyes traveled, you observed the man who was lying lifeless on the floor. 

Your eyes then stopped when you noticed the man who had his back facing you. 5'10 inches with dirty blond hair, black leather jacket that hugged his figure just right. Undoubtedly, the build of an agent yet you couldn’t care less about his appearance right now.

Clearing your throat, you made your presence known. Even though a part of you believed that this man must have heard you as soon as you entered the scene of the crime. 

He turned around and you could see the solemn expression that soon turned into a polite smile. So, the blue-eyed male that was in front of you was the federal agent the government has sent? Interesting.

“Hello. You may be the leading detective of this case, right?” There is no accent in his voice nor a belittling hint in his speech. You were used to being questioned about your position or straight up told not to waste time before you could even identify yourself.

“Indeed.” You nodded before stepping closer and showing him your badge which had your name and occupation there. There’s a moment of silence before Leon speaks again, with a faint smile on his lips. 

“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.” He stated his name, a muffled chuckle leaving after his phrase. 

At first, you remained expressionless, not expecting this stoic ‘professional’ to introduce himself in a rather comical way. Not when there’s a dead body lying at his feet.

“What are you? James Bond?” You were genuinely dumbfounded. 

“Do I look the part?” He had a hand on his hip, casually standing in front of you. If audacity and lack of decorum had a name, it would have Leon written at the top of a dictionary. “I'd call myself hilarious, though.”

“Kinda goofy, I'd say.” You retorted, walking past him and looking through your pockets to pull out a pair of gloves, the sound of latex being stretched followed your answer. This part was always the hardest, even when the body has been already inspected by the team of criminalists, you ought to re-check.

“Let's keep it at funny.” His eyes darted to where your figure was, the scent of your perfume couldn’t override the constant smell of blood but he could sense the faint aroma of coconut and vanilla.

"So... the government sent you?" You adjusted your gloves as your eyes locked on Leon's. His blue eyes were piercing yet they weren't threatening.

"Yup." Leon crossed his arms as he continued watching you. "Kinda late, I'd say. Mr Clark was... the eighth victim?"

"The eleventh." You corrected him.

"Damn, they keep falling like dominoes."

You crouch down to inspect the body, there’s nothing visibly new compared to the other subjects of the crime. Lifeless eyes, and a nasty open wound on his forehead which resembled a shot. But other than that? Nothing much. 

“Agent Kennedy, I don't think you're being professional.” You absentmindedly trailed off as you checked the candidate’s finger, paying close attention to his nails. Just in case this wasn’t a suicide case and there was DNA left in the victim’s nails.

“You're right.” He shrugged off as he sighed. He had done his part of the job before you arrived, so his presence was no longer required there. However, he stayed. “But then again, do you truly care for that asshole?”

Your ears perked at Leon’s sudden question. Sure, your disdain for politicians wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone at the station knew about your hatred for the rich. But needless to say, you weren’t expecting the government’s boy to speak in such a manner.

Nor did you anticipate that he knew about you. 

“Careful. Aren’t you supposed to be an agent?” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a more serious one. One that warned him he shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. And while you were a rightful civilian who actually wanted to restore peace in the city. If this rumor reached the newspaper, it would be the end for you.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m fond of them.” And Leon wasn’t dumb, not at all. He caught the meaning behind those simple yet blunt words. “Or are you going to tell me you like working for your boss?” 

“I’m the boss here.” Your expression quickly turned sour as Leon expressed his own opinions. You just noticed the tick of a clock, a persistent noise that only served to highlight the already growing tension.

See, you weren’t a bland person, far from that. You appreciate jokes and even engage in light-hearted teasing with your friends. Not with colleagues.

But at that moment, antics and pranks weren’t something you easily accepted. Living to be compared to men who were incapable next to you built walls that made it impossible to reach your core, to your true self.

“See? Maybe your subordinates don’t like you.” 

“You should learn when to stop biting, Mr Kennedy.” 

Leon just laughed and shook his head. His eyes stopped being focused on yours and decided to gaze through the large window the room had. The perfect view of the city was in front of him, a perfectly corrupted place.

A welcoming silence—after their awkward banter— set in. You took this opportunity to ask for more information related to the dead candidate. As you let go of his hand, you got up and took off your gloves.

“So… Agent, any background information the now deceased may have?”

“Besides the obvious? Not really.” A sigh slipped from the blue-eyed man. “He had a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. The white picket fence kind of life.”

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had.” You said.

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had, indeed.” Leon replies in tandem. 

He shook his head, letting out a sigh you didn’t know he was holding. A headache was already brewing and you simply massaged your temples. The sensation of running in circles was once again setting and penetrating your mindset—there’s no clue to even pinpoint the cause of so many crimes.

“There’s nothing else here. Maybe your coworkers have something you could work with?”

And while you felt frustrated for not being able to do more, you let your irritation die down as you nodded.

As both of you exited the scene of the crime, flashing lights and camera shutters could be heard around the building as if they were annoying bugs that wouldn’t stop bothering you. Mosquitoes sucking the blood out of your systems.

Between noises and judging stares from the journalists, Leon’s stride led him to his bike that was just parked in front of your car. As you could already guess, the lenses of the cameras were getting the perfect take for tomorrow’s diary, especially since people love to read about the woman of the year being close to a man. To assert their sexist stance. 

“Hey,” Leon called you, his voice barely audible as the constant background noise was still pretty much present. “Take this with you.”

A confused expression set on your face as you eyed the manila envelope Leon gave you. Before you could even open it to inspect what documents were in front of you, Leon’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t think it’d be wise of you to open that here.” Your attention returned to the blond man who was now putting on his helmet. Immediately, you pressed the folder against your chest, protecting the contents inside of it.

“What's it?” 

“You’ll know later.” His hands gripped the handlebars, already turning on the engines. “For now, don’t do anything stupid.”

Haunted by the plethora of degrading terms you were called, your first instinct was to roll your eyes as you watched the agent driving away from the building and from the horde of journalists. 

Nonetheless, a part of you couldn’t help but read between the lines. Leon hasn’t been particularly cruel to you like every other cop or colleague. So, his statement could be related to what’s inside the folder.

For now, you simply walked towards your car. Or rather, tried. Ready to be cornered by the starved media while cops attempted to serve as a protective wall around you.

Who am I if not exploited, abused, and corrupted?

A question that used to haunt Leon’s dreams and nightmares. His life purpose has been nothing but being the Government's puppet. Images and memories of being exploited and destroyed build up the man he is now.

Or rather, the beast.

In the search of the ultimate soldier, who would fight against every adversity. A creature that didn’t belong to this world was created. The once human could no longer be classified as one, and he gained the name of a vampire.

His hunger for food was replaced by a maddening and unbearable desire for the vital fluid of blood and his right to die was robbed from him as numerous experiments proved that, in fact, no human weapon could kill him now. 

Leon’s spirit was bonded to eternity therefore dying meant nothing to him. He doesn’t belong to life since his humanity was stripped away from him the moment he sold his soul to the nation. But death didn’t want him either, since now mortality runs away from him as the monster he has become.

It was a statement he grew accustomed to. The world was cruel and he was reduced to a simple and mere battle machine. The best weapon the nation had.

Although, he knew he was far from being the best arsenal the government could come up with.

They were greedy. It's always been that way. And the moment the disappearances started, Leon's nature was once again brought to the surface.

It all started when he once switched to a News Channel. The slow and grim music was playing in the background as the headline read: NEWS REPORT: FATHER OF TWO IS MISSING. Followed by another update that indicated he was the third man who has disappeared in May. 

No hell could be hot enough for whoever was behind all of this. However, Leon was terribly sure that this case wasn’t something orchestrated by just one individual. The anger he had so deeply buried now flourished as a flower. Yet this time it came with thorns that would cut and stab those who wished nothing but to set the world in despair.

He didn’t wait. If he stood still more innocent people would pay the price of being victims of the same destiny he faced. 

— August 14, 1987 —

Mr Clark,

I send my most sincere congratulations to you as I’ve come to know that you’re people’s favorite candidate. I’m so sure your image must be impeccable and flawless to reach such level of popularity. 

However, It’s so strange to me that as a public figure, you condemn those corrupted politicians who indulge in nothing but richness, crime, and sinful activities when your past (and present) does nothing but stain your image. 

But, I’m a generous individual. I’ll give you two options which you can choose from. You come out clean, show everyone the type of sick criminal you are or, you simply end your life. Easy, right?

After all, you didn’t hesitate to end someone else’s.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader

[take-everything-you-can]

What makes a man

A/N : This is the second piece into the angiverse or my dad Eddie series of blurbs. A series of Fathers Days throughout Eddies life. One Where his father wasn't so kind, another when he surprised Wayne, and one more where you surprise him. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

P.s Photo in header are all from google straight up not gonna lie to yall have no idea who edited the Eddie and Wayne photo but its phenomenal.

P.p.s update : the photo of Eddie and Wayne was created by user @fefemunson on Pinterest and insta 💕💕🖤

Dividers by @cafekitsune

18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader

WC: 4K

TW: Angst ( Al - need I say more...) Fluff ( Wayne's gift, doting husband, baby girl Munson) Smut ( Breeding kink, F receiving, fingering, unprotected PIV, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, accidental edging, squirting) If y'all see anything I missed please let me know. Not really edited all that much.

Sweat rolled down the side of Eddie's face as he sat crouched behind a car in the packed lot of a junkyard, a few towns over from Hawkins. The sun had set but the heat waves, in the middle of June 1975,  had become almost stifling as he kept an eye on his surroundings. Al had promised that if Eddie just kept watch this one last time, while he took care of some business, then he could get him the guitar strings he had his eye on.

It had only been two seconds, two seconds Eddie let himself get distracted as he watched the fireflies light up the darkening sky in swirling patterns. Two seconds and Eddie had missed how a tall figure made its way over to the door in which he watched his father disappear behind. Two seconds and he was too late to let out his crow call to let Al know there was someone coming. 

“Run.” A gunshot and a flash of his father was all Eddie heard and saw before his limbs were weaving in and out of old abandoned things that people no longer needed. Things that people no longer wanted. Losing traction as the rain from the night before made the clay and mud beneath his feet slide. He had caught up to Al, Eddie had never been an athlete but when it came to running for his life, he had more practice then one should at his age.

“Stupid, How could you be so fucking Stupid?” Al was catching his breath as he slowed, pretty sure that the men he was stealing from had given up at least for now. “I mean I ask you to do one thing and you can't even do that right.” Eddie walks beside his father and he’s heard the spiel time and time again. “If you think I’m getting you those guitar strings after this, You can forget it.”  Eddie knew he was never getting those strings, and if he was being honest with himself he knew this was the only time he was going to get with his father. That's all he ever wanted , to feel like he was needed and if that meant he would have to sit through some words that hurt, then that's exactly what he would do. 

He thought to two days ago. Hawkins Elementary had fathers day arts and crafts sweep through the halls and through classrooms as the day approached within the upcoming weekend. He decided that he was going to draw what he knew best. Eddie had drawn a dragon, large and fierce , one only a brave man could face. Sword in hand and threatening he had drawn his father slaying the dragon that plagued the princess’s  nightmares around the realm. He was so excited to present it to his father but as he sat and heard the words his father was saying the longer the picture sat in his backpack until it littered the bottom of it at the end of the year. 

Eddie would never give the picture to Al, in fact he would grow to forget about it. 

It took only a few months as the fall leaves began to change colors and fall to the ground, Al would find himself behind bars. Life without parole for numerous crimes that would leave Eddie with nothing but his mother and His uncle. It would be a very very long time before He would even hear the sound of his voice again. 

June 1985 had become as hot as Eddie thought it possibly could within the trailer. Wayne was currently out shopping for two new units, one for the living room and one for Eddie. As the men of the house could no longer stand having their hair drip sweat in their eyes and slick down the back of their knees. So they counted couch change and broke open piggy banks for the luxury of air flow. 

Eddie had found himself trying to pry the window that had been painted shut open in his room. A small one across from where his bed sat, and it took all of his strength and an hour of his time, but he had finally been able to crack it. Sweet relief had started to settle around him as a breeze picked up and his curtains swayed in as he took a look around his room. Clothes scattered and books in a pile, a few cups on his desk and sheets of paper askew, Eddie decided to start cleaning his room.

 A half clean floor surprised Wayne as he looks in on Eddie as he arrives home with the new units. Almost not wanting to say anything at all to stop Eddie in his task, but he curses himself as the words leave his mouth. 

“Come help me unload this truck boy.”  Eddie slips on a pair or worn out sneaker and trudges through the inferno only to be met with a realization. It was colder outside then it was in the trailer and he stood on the shared porch in disbelief. 

“How is it cooler out here than inside?” 

“Not for long If i can help it, Now come one and give me a hand before I melt out here.” 

Eddie helps Wayne take both units into the house and he holds them up as Wayne takes his time to install them, making sure that he eases the process as much as he can for his uncle.

 Eddie Holds his breath as Wayne plugs in the unit in his bedroom and the second the small little green light pops on and revs the A/C Unit to life, That breath leaves his lungs in a huffed out laugh as he jumps up and down in joy. A laugh from Wayne as he pats Eddie's shoulder as he leaves the room. “Glad you like it. I’m hitting the hay so keep it down here okay?” Eddie nods his head towards his uncle as he lifts his shirt up over his head and just basks in the cool air hitting his skin for what feels like the first time ever. 

Eddie opens his closet to hang a few stray long sleeve shirts he had  found scattered across the floor. Giving each the smell test before grabbing hangers. Who needs a long sleeve tee in this heat anyway, he thinks to himself. He stops and bends to find an old shoebox that had fallen from the top shelf and somehow landed upside down. Small trinkets from his past had toppled out and onto the floor, a few movie stubs, from trips to the cinema across town. His first DND Handbook , a small pick-me-up Wayne had brought home from a thrift store for him one day after finding out he had the flu.

 Then a small folded up piece of paper caught his eye. A Knight in shining armor depicted as slaying a dragon, one with a tail that could take out entire cities and claws like daggers. A sword through its skull as he shields himself from the bloodshed,but the face of the knight confused him. He remembered drawing the picture for his father , his rounded features and brudish stance, but the more he looked in on the knight he realized the picture he had drawn was not rounded but more sharp. The knight was more gentle as if it hurt to even have to slay the dragon but for his princess he would do anything. He had drawn Wayne, not his father. 

The picture would continue to lay in the box , and Eddie would put the box back in its rightful place on a shelf in his closet , but Eddie would always know that Wayne would slay his dragon. In fact he realized Wayne had been slaying them for years all in the sake of his protection. This brought a smile to his face as he left his room and made himself some dinner, making Wayne a plate to leave in the fridge so he would have something to eat before having to go to work. Tomorrow he wouldn't wait for the phone call from his father that would never come, instead he would spend it with his dad, a man who took him in and loved him for all that he was. 

An Early Morning of June 1988, Eddie paced by the phone for what seemed like hours. He started off his day by sitting , but the nervous bile that would rise in his throat had him up and down. His mind was set on hearing disappointment but you reassured him he would hear nothing of the sort. Finding himself sitting, knee bouncing as if it had a live wire in it, you start to separate things off the stove into their own spots on the kitchen aisle. A breakfast fit for a king, sausage and eggs , bacon and pancakes. All that was missing was Coffee. 

The night before you and Eddie had gone to Waynes for dinner leaving a small gift that he wasn’t supposed to open until this morning. You were sure he would open it as soon as you left but the line had stayed silent and Eddie knew for a fact he would call if he did. Given the gift he was receiving you had hoped the phone would ring sooner rather than later simply for the fact that you wanted Eddie to have peace of mind. Each second that passed you saw in Eddie’s features that he was going to the dark and weathered places. 

You and Eddie had given Wayne a mug. A small pink mug that when Wayne opened it reminded him of a diner he had not far from his house when he lived in Tennessee as a child. As Wayne poured his coffee into the mug he noticed that when he went to take a sip his hand caressed within it perfectly, a new favorite he would have to keep by the sink. As his last few sips drained the cup he saw an inscription on the bottom of the inside.

‘Pa Pa needs Coffee first’ 

A shrill ring from the telephone made you and Eddie nearly jump out of your skin. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear but before the word “hello” could leave his mouth Wayne had already started.

“Are you serious? Don’t be playing no games with me boy, cause if i have a heart attack then i'm taking your scrawny ass with me! You better be telling the truth or so help me -” 

Eddie's sniffles match Waynes as he just nods his head as if the man on the other end of the line can see him.

“I’m telling the truth, we’re having a baby girl, Uncle Wayne.”  Eddie turns as he hears a small sob leave you . You had been watching the man in front of you tell the most important person in his life the news of having your first child. It broke you in the best way.

 Eddie motioned for you to come over to him as he couldn't pull the cord far enough to reach you. He wrapped both of his arms around your neck as he held the phone to his ear letting Wayne rattle on his congratulations while you let the tears fall and land on his shirt. Eddie hoped this would be one of those moments you never forget. One that even when you were sitting next to him old and gray , he hoped this would be a memory he could always reach out for.

 Eddie hung up the phone and still having you wrapped up in his arms led you backwards. He stopped next to the fridge and opened it opting for orange juice instead of coffee. He had told you about a week or so ago that anything you couldn't do, he wouldn't do, and It was becoming a challenge. Coffee and a cigarette had been his daily routine for as long as he could remember, but having you struggle was something he was not going to let you do alone. So this morning he poured you a glass of juice along with his own and you both sat and ate the breakfast of champions, a slight Happy Father's Day on the tip of your tongue. 

Summer on the cusp of beginning in June of 1991 had bees buzzing and roses blooming . A cranky tot had been an alarm clock for you and Eddie for the past three weeks. Not only had your daughter reached the terrible twos but the heat was something she didn't like in the slightest. A stressful few months of Eddie working non stop and you finishing rotation on night shift had left you no time alone together. That would all end tonight. 

Wayne had agreed to take Angie for the weekend while you and Eddie had finally convinced your jobs to give you the time off. A rushed drive to Waynes gave you that pit feeling in your stomach and the tears that stained Angies face at your absence gave you tears to shed of your own. Mom guilt was always something you would struggle with. How could you not? Eddie squeezed your knee as he drove, peaking at you every so often to sooth the pit, he felt it too, but you deserve this. Eddie Deserved this. 

An early check-in to the hotel you had booked gave you enough time to get dressed and listen to Eddie complain about the restaurant you were taking him to having a dress code. You packed him a black blazer and a maroon button up ,but the man refused to wear slacks. Absolutely threw a fit about it, so he compromised and wore black jeans that you had to inspect for rips. While you wore a black dress that fit snugly against your soft tummy, coming up short against your thighs. If you bent over the entire place would be getting a show but you were saving that for your husband. God your husband, you loved the sound it rang through your brain, an earworm the word had become since you married. Husband, the father of your child, the man you gave your everything to and he gave you back all of himself in return. 

The dim light of the room made you squint at the incredibly small print of the menu in your hands and as you look across the table you see Eddie doing the same. 

“You see a burger here anywhere?” you roll your eyes. 

“Eddie, we did not drive an hour into the city for you to order a burger from a five star restaurant.”

“Why not?” you could see the slight slip of the corner of his mouth. You smile and turn your focus back on figuring out what to eat before the waiter comes back. The pasta sounds nice, the steak on a table across the way looks divine. You settle on a Caesar salad , Eddie orders steak and fettuccine. A beer in front of Eddie pairs with your glass of white as his hand comes across waiting for you to take hold. You indulge him as you pick up your glass with your other hand. Soft circles across your knuckles have you leaning into the table.

“Have i told you how incredible you look tonight?” Heat rushes through you at his tone, seep sultry, dark. A twist in where he laces your fingers with his own and a gleam in his eye. You know exactly what he wants to hear.

“Oh yeah? Me? What about you over there?” You return the look as the waiter sits your food in front of you interrupting whatever he was going to say.

 A tight smile is all he gives as he picks up his beer and takes a sip. He picks up his knife and you watch as he tries to cut into his steak, lifting your glass and taking a long sip you take the edge of your heels and slide it up his leg. He nearly drops his fork on the ground at the unexpected touch. Eddie stares wide eyed as he brings his food to his mouth slowly taking the bite.

You look away as if your heel isn't still making its way to his knee and sliding in between his thighs, placing your shoe right against his groin. You can see the way his body stiffens and instantly his hand is slammed against the table. It gets the attention of your waiter as if the sound was a call of his name. When he asks if you are enjoying your food and if you need anything Eddie rushes to get the words out.

“Yes! Good! Everything is delicious! Can we get the check please?” he obliges as he walks to grab the tab for the two of you. Giggling as you take in the wild look Eddie is giving you.

"You done already babe?"

"You are going to be the absolute death of me, woman.”  you pay for dinner as a treat for Fathers day, shit this whole weekend was for Fathers day. Eddie gave you hell for paying but the bruising grip on your hip as you walked through the restaurant had you knowing he was going to pay you back tenfold. 

Barely making it through the door to your hotel room Eddie had already shed the blazer you had made him wear. Lips catching between teeth and struggling to undo buttons has you both breathless and frustrated. Eddie pulls the shirt up and over his head yelling fuck it as it soars across the room. The rattle of his belt buckle sends a shiver down your spine as you sit and struggle to undo the clasp of your heels. Eddie kicks the denim that pooled around his ankles to the side as he jumps up onto the bed. His knees against the sheets, he takes one of your heels in his hands and leans it against his chest as he undoes the clasp for you. He throws the heel behind him and does the same to the other leaning over you as his hair falls around your face.

“Mhmm, I've been thinking ‘bout this all day.” your lips crash into his, a hungry, feral feeling overcomes you as you wrap your legs around his waist. His lips begin their journey down your neck and across your chest, sucking small spots and leaving small bruises, as if leading breadcrumbs to find his way back home. He reaches the hem of your dress as he nips at your thighs pushing the fabrics up so it bunches at your waist. 

“Isn't it Fathers Day, shouldn't I be the one going down on you?“ He catches your eyes as you look down and shakes his head. 

“Nope. Like you said, it's Fathers Day and that means I get whatever I want baby,  and I didn't get to have dessert.” He takes the lace between his teeth and lets it snap back in place listening as you let out a small whine from beneath him. 

“Mmm so sweet” He slips the thong along your thighs and down your legs as you let them spread for his immediate return. Except it’s not immediate, he takes his time. “So good to me, aren’t you sweetheart?” He takes his time kissing his way down your thighs to your dripping core. He drapes your legs over his shoulders as he slips his tongue through your folds and around your clit. Sucking hard as he lets the slick of your arousal coat his taste buds. Kissing your cunt as if he can’t live without its breath in his lungs. He slips his tongue into you as he lets his nose stimulate your clit. You wonder if he can breathe but the thought is lost as he slips a finger into you instead coming back to focus on that bundle of nerves. Your hands wrap themselves around his curls and grip hard, earning a moan from him that vibrates against your core as he adds another finger and a gasping moan sounding from deep within you as you chase that lightning through your core. Shaking thunderous moans of His name leave you as you give in to your husband. He slows the curl of his fingers and lets you ride out your high letting himself pant against your thigh as your grip in his hair loosens. 

Laughs from Eddie send you into a fit of your own giggles and the loving look he gives you as he hovers over you letting you taste yourself off his lips. Slow and needy you reach down and grasp Eddie's length through his boxers and a groan is made from the back of his throat.

“Eddie.” The soft moan of his name is all it takes for him to give you anything you ever wanted. Some Days it’s your laugh, other days it’s the way you take care of his daughter, but right now in this moment it’s the way you're sighing at his touch. 

You sit up pushing his shoulders back until his head hits the pillows,straddling his waist and sliding up and down his cock a few times, coating him in your slick. Lining him up with your entrance and sitting slowly until his entire length is buried inside you. A deep moan from within the both of you. You lift yourself off of him leaning back resting your hands on his thighs as the angle lets him hit that sweet spot inside of you with every drop back into his lap. The way his cock slides against your walls has you throwing your head back ,eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Uh uh , Look at me , Let me see you baby.”  your chest heaves with each thrust he sends upwards into you, unable to form words. A sudden flip has you separated from Eddie right as you were on the cusp.

“I said look at me Baby, Come on. What ? dick so good you’ve gone dumb?”  He slams into you and the sounds of his skin slapping yours, as he fucks you into the mattress, echoes off the walls.” God you’re so tight. Squeezin the fuck outta me.” You whine as he lifts you so your chest is flush with his own. “Look so good underneath me ,gonna fuck you full baby.” 

“Yes , god yes Fuck Eddie, fill me up.” you moan through each thrust, right against his ear. You reach your climax gushing around Eddie a small spray reaching his abdomen and wetting the sheets beneath you. Nail marks scratching down his back send him into his own orgasm as he coats the walls within you thick, falling forward with you under him. A weight you would always welcome. Both of you lay in utter bliss for what feels like forever before he slips out of you. You hiss at the empty feeling but welcome the warm rag Eddie drags across your center. A glass of water is given to you as you lay tangled in the sheets bringing them to your chest as you gulp down every drop. A small smile on Eddie's face has you feeling like you did the first time you saw him. Unbelievably awestruck. 

“What's on your mind Honey?” He thinks for a second but gives you an answer far from what you expect. 

“I think we just made our second child.” loud and blissfully you laugh. 

“One not enough? “ His dimples practically touch each other as he purses his lips, letting his tongue glide over the bottom.

“One is plenty, but I just can't help but want a little more of you in the world.” you sit up on your knees as you bring Eddies face down to your own, sliding a hand across his cheek as your lips meet.

"I wouldn’t mind a little more of you out there either.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #dad eddie munson #wayne munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson blurb #mae blurbs

[amaiyajiki]

~Sub Dazai Headcannons~

warnings: Smut,swearing,slight angst, (If there is any more trigger on this fic let me know!)

~My lord- I have so much shit to talking about this hot bandaged of a man. now as for my questionable opinion is that- I think THE Dazai Osamu,the demon prodigy of the port mafia, is a submissive little bitch. (affectionately)

~I feel like he would be a bit a of bratty sub at the beginning of your guy’s first time. Well ofc- that being after he is comfortable being himself around you.He would try to annoy you,rile you up a lot. But I think if you praise him, he will be a puddle in your hands:)

~I personally think he would prefer if you were a soft dom but I don’t think he would mind being treated roughly every now and then.He would call you sir/miss. Idk why- I just feel like it.^_^ ~Fuck- just imagine him, sending you videos or pictures of him playing with the toys you got him and he would whine about you not being there to satisfy him, while your at work or your on a mission.

~I feel like, if he ever saw you being stressed out because of work,school,etc, He would offer himself as a stress-reliever bc he doesn’t want his pretty baby to be stressed out.

~White,red and black lingeries look sooo good on him. He would probably wear them to surprise you and you can’t change my mind- ~If you kiss his scars underneath his bandages,He would cry, mostly bc of how you’re treating him, a person who has created numerous crimes. Just comfort him please:)

~Aftercare is definitely important for both of you. He gets clingy most of time after you guys are done.He just wants to be close to you after such an intimate moment.If you try to get up and leave, he will think you’re leaving him for good, like he will wake up and will realize that it was dream. He will really sleepy after you guys washed up,wore clothes and fell asleep. Dazai would hold you tightly as he wishes that you would never go away.

~Imagine Dazai walking to the agency and the members see him limping or not walking properly. Kunikida would scold him for being late again and his posture not being right. This is happening all while your giggling quietly. (Let’s face it- Ranpo knows why)

~Dazai may not wanted to live but ever since you came into his dark life, He can’t help but drown in these moments with you.

(I hope all of you enjoyed reading this! Make sure to drink water and eat food ^_^)

#bsd dazai #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #sub dazai #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs dazai

[enhadiares]

“Believe in fate”

Quote by the great Sunghoon Park

Note: I tried writing a little drabble to see how I write or yk to have an update about my skills . It's not the best . I don't like it honestly but I need it for the feedback and constructive criticism so I can get better. Please bear with me during my getting better phase😞🙏

Warning: Not proofread (I'm sorry I was impatient 😭☝️)

I was walking around in the dim lights of the road . The moon shining and glowing like it found someone to spend it's life with.

Ironic isn't it?

We've always been told that moon shines alone in the dark night sky , but have you thought about the stars it's surrounded with? The numerous stars which shine brighter than the moon alone , yet their size makes the moon outshine them.

Oh how lucky the moon is , to be surrounded with stars which shine bright yet it's the only one which stands out the most .

Sometimes I don't want to fine my moon , but rather my star and be the moon.

I was in deep thought . I had face yet another break-up. When will I find my star? It was agonizing really but it's not in my hands. I'll leave it to fate. I hope I'm destined to be with someone who would love me like the stars love the moon.

Deep in thought I didn't notice another presence, making me bump into them .

I stumbled back , didn't fall tho . It would have been more embarrassing. I looked at the person in action . He was tall , blond hair sticking out - falling on his forehead. His plump lips and his long eyelashes : oh just how jealous all of the girls would be of him . His nose sat upright while his dark shade almond shaped eyes stared back at me in amusement.

“oh I'm sorry , I wasn't looking forward” I stated

He chuckled a bit while looking down then brought his eyes back to mine.

“it's fine don't worry , happens to me all the time”

Then suddenly I felt something on my shoes , I looked down only to see this pure fluff of joy looking at me with so much anticipation, wagging it's tail back and forth aggressively, tongue darted out while painting hard.

“looks like I'm not the only one who likes this pretty stranger” the guy winked

Adorable. Both of them were adorable. So I bent down and started to pet the little ball of sunshine and looks like she really did like me . Although I was unaware of his feelings and thoughts , the moment seemed to take my mind of things and made me calm down a bit. It was comforting really.

I didn't remember about my break up , it's thoughts didn't cross my mind even once during this interaction with this cute duo.

“Im jake and that's Layla , my partner in crime” the stranger , who wasn't a stranger now stated.

“aww she's cute , I'm y/n”

“Pretty girl got a pretty name too. Would you like to join us for a walk?”

I thought about it. Should I? Maybe i should. I mean there's no harm is there? Without any other thought I said yes and we proceeded to walk towards the park .

Little did I know , fate brought me to not one but two stars.

Kkeut.

#enhypen #kpop #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x y/n #enhypen reactions #enhypen yandere #enhypen fluff #enha #enhypen horror #yandere enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake x you

[tanoraqui]

thinking about my tags on this post, I'm pretty sure the best way to do an au in which Team Tadpole forms without tadpoles, pre-tadpoles, because Wyll keeps heroically saving the day partly by befriending at least one key henchperson per major enemy...is if Ulder disowned him rather than exiling him, so Wyll became the Batman Blade of the Gate. Living in the shadows, stubbornly alone, helping the people who even the Flaming Fists can't, or won't... He has a firm principle of only killing "monsters", so for pettier criminals, he usually sends them walking up to the nearest officer of the peace with a friendly Suggestion that they turn themselves in for their crimes. This makes Ulder's teeth grind like coffee beans. Their dynamic isn't so much Batman & Gordon as Spiderman & J. Jonah Jameson.

All that really needs to happen for him to pick up Shadowheart as a sidekick is for one person to ask the Blade for help because the Sharrans stole their child/are aggressively cult-recruiting their friend/other typical dubious Sharran thing; and then he unravels that whole temple like a ball of yarn - or at least, enough that Shadowheart leaves and becomes local secondary superhero...the Pale Priestess? the White Wolf? (In this house we stan werewolf!Shadowheart!)

Then the Blade notices a barely-noticeable pattern of disappearances that's been going on for over 200 years, and the bloody trail leads right to Szarr Mansion...

(Wyll does not deal with the slightly-under-7,000 vampire spawn in the basement. The Blade leaves a note for the Flaming Fists and their ducal commander, along with a pile of evidence of Cazadar Szarr's crimes, and a pile of dust that was once a vampire lord.)

(Possibly this attracts Raphael's attention, because it was a loss for Mephistopheles? Raphael would be almost as good a comic books-esque recurring villain as Bhaal cultists.)

Gale somehow becomes their Guy in the Chair - still living in Waterdeep, mind you; he communicates mostly via Scrying, Sending, etc. Typical archwizard aloofness. Until The Incident, in response to which maybe he asks the others to get him books from Sorcerous Sundries, which leads to Lorroakan turning himself over to the Fists :) on charges of Apprentice Abuse [I'm sure Rolan wasn't the first] and general Being The Worst.

All throughout this Wyll is angstily - while acting the confident, ever-optimistic hero - refusing to talk about how he has devilish magic or why he Needs to leave the city to go kill a random specific devil/demon/other monster once a month. His friends know he made a pact and that's it. They offer to help. Wyll refuses lest Mizora make his life and theirs a living hell.

They start looking into Enver Gortash and his numerous sketchy dealings. In this AU, too, the Blade tracks Karlach down through the battlefields of Avernus...to ask her some questions about her former employer. He doesn't have much hope for answers from a notorious battle-devil, but it's their only lead...

But then she's Karlach, so he offers to help her escape instead. They're nearly out - or they are out? - when Mizora appears and orders Wyll to stand down. Wyll does not stand down. Karlach tries to behead her, so Mizora leaves him alone...for a little while. She catches him alone later, back at his base, and drags his soul through the fires of hell and turns him into a devil.

They ally with Orin, possibly unknowingly, to attack the Bhaalspawn leader of the Cult of Bhaal! She betrays them, right after murdering her kin!

[insert something here that's like speedrunning the whole plot but backwards]

Lae'zel shows up at some point, bleeding and halfway through her own character arc which she's been doing solo, having been snatched and tadpoled, killed a Sharran to regain the Prism, nearly killed by her own people for being tadpoled, regained the Prism via a lot of murder... She's now on the run from pretty much everyone but she's determined to re-prove herself to...somebody...by singlehandedly killing the Netherbrain.

(She tries to kill our heroes because she assumes they've been tadpoled.)

Wyll breaks his pact for good and is willing to go down fighting for his city even without any powers; then Ansur with his final-for-real-this-time dying breath gives Wyll draconic magic, so he can be the sorcerous Dragon of the Gate.

Epilogue: the Heroes of Baldur's Gate answer a call for help from their neighbors in the Reclaimed Lands to deal with all the ex-cultist goblins who've still been running around kidnapping and, idk, eating people since the Netherbrain was destroyed. They arrive to find that the goblins are already being bloodily Dealt With...by an amnesiac Dark Urge, who isn't actually being very bloody about it at all by their typical standards, and who has no memory of anything before like a month ago.

Everyone points weapons at them except Wyll, who insists that if they've truly reverted to ignorant innocence, then they should have a second chance, to mend their ways and help fix what they broke in the world. This is, fundamentally, a group wherein a bunch of morally dubious assholes (except Karlach, who's an angel and we're delighted she's here) outsource their moral compasses to Wyll; and honestly it's not like this is surprising behavior from him, so...welcome to the team!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #wyll ravengard #i guess i will tag everyone #shadowheart #astarion #gale dekarios #karlach #lae'zel #dark urge #ficlet #my fic #ulder ravengard

[littlespacereader]

Can I request cg!spiderpunk with spidey! little reader who starts having accidents in littlespace and she's rlly embarrassed cause she's a hero? Thanks! Feel free to ignore!

Heck no I’m not gonna to ignore!! I absolutely LOVE this idea!! This is such a huge issue a Regressor superhero might have! Trying to save the world but what if you need someone to save your world?! What if an accident happens while fighting crime?! I couldn’t love this idea more! So I hope you enjoy this fic! Feel free to send me another idea!!

The Little Spidey

Caregiver! Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) & Spidey Fem Little! Reader

Tags: an accident, pull-ups, fighting, stuffies, hiding/reveal of regression, sippy cups, stuffie,hurt&comfort

Nicknames: darling, sweet one, love

Alright let’s do this one last time.

My name is Y/N L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for 3 years I’ve been the one and only Spider-Girl.

Thats is, until I realized there’s a whole multiverse full of different Spider people! Recently I became a part of this Spider-verse, which had its ups and downs.

My universe was completely different from everyone else’s, which took some getting used to. In my universe Age Regession was a normal every day thing for people. It wasn’t shamed at or thought of the wrong way.

I’m one of the age regressors in my universe. I regress really young so on missions I usually wear a pull-up, just in case I begin to regress or can’t find a bathroom in time. And trust me, with the long hours of crime fighting, this has come in handy on numerous occasions.

My suit is designed by yours truly. It has a special feature that wearing a bulky pull-up or diaper isn’t shown. It just looks like a normal Spidey suit. I carry a backpack with me at all times with supplies for myself and some extra gear for missions.

Because regression it wasn’t mainstream in most of the other universes, I kept it to myself. That way I wouldn’t have to embarrass myself infront of the other Spideys. There were some universes where regression was just a normal every day thing like mine but those were rare to find, and it was hard to ask incase the answer was no.

After joining, I quickly became friends with Hobie and Pav, my two best friends. The three of us would travel to different universes and kick some butt together! We really worked well as a team!

Pav always strikes me as a Regressor. But I never have the courage to ask him in fear of him asking me if I’m one.

I often visited Earth-50101 to see Pav and spent time in Mumbattan. But I spend most of my time with Hobie in Earth-138 London.

Hobie and I are the closest. He made me feel welcomed the moment I joined the group. Miguel and Jess can be a bit intimidating at times, but Hobie always takes me under his wing.

He makes me feel comfortable and he never lets anyone yell or order me around. He’s a very free spirited freedom fighter. In London I watched his concerts with his band and in my universe we got ice cream together. He’s versatile.He also has the coolest Spidey moves with his guitar! It’s sick!!

He introduced me to Pavitr. Now the three of us hang out all the time! And when we’re not hanging out we’re fighting crime together!

Despite our close friendship I’ve kept my regression hidden from them. When they come over I just hide all my little gear and when we’re out I fight my hardest not to regress.

So with my regression under wraps I continue to fight crime now not only in Queens, NY but in the multiverse as well! Nothing can go wrong!…….Or so I thought.

~~~

Today was my day off, if that’s even possible for a Spidey. I decided today I’m going to regress and relax the rest of the evening. Hobie is practicing with his band, Pav is on a date with his girlfriend and my watch hasn’t gone off with a new mission. So I’m taking a me day.

I ran to my bed room and grabbed the box from underneath. I ripped the box open and grabbed my favorite stuffie and pacifier immediately. Then I had a choice of sippy cup: am I feeling princess or hearts today? Ummmmmmmm…….hearts!

With my things in hand, I walked into the kitchen. As I washed and filled my sippy cup I started to ramble off everything that’s been going on to my stuffie. Gotta let him know all the juice crime fighting details.

Then I made my way to the couch, plopping infront of the tv to watch hours and hours of cartoons. And hours and hours and hours…..

I woke up some time later to the buzzing of my watch. I quickly jumped up and spit my pacifier out before answering.

“Y/N! Where have you been? We been trying to contact you.” Jess aka Spider-Woman yelled at me.

“Sorry I was asleep after a long day. What’s up?”

“We got another anomaly. Suit up we’ll be there soon to pick you up.” And with that the call hung up.

Be there soon?!?!?!

I immediately started to shove everything under my couch or in the couch cushions. Then I ran into my bedroom to get changed fast! I quickly suited up but not without pausing in my bathroom.

I forgot a pull-up, how stupid of me let me just-

Suddenly I heard a portal open in my living room. “Y/N! Where you at?” Hobie yelled out.

I eyed the pull-up and then the door. It’s okay, it probably won’t be a long mission anyway. Just in and out and I’ll be back before I know it. I’m totally not feeling Little in the slightest so I should be fine without protection. Wait who am I lying to?

With that little pep talk I stormed out of my bathroom, grabbing my back pack on the way, and greeted everyone in my living room. There stood Jess and Hobie ready for the next mission.

“How was practice?”

Hobie rolled his eyes, “Don’t get me started! What practice? I was two second from going on when these guys called.”

“Don’t they know you’re trying to be an artist!” I said all dramatically.

He laughed and smirked, “Oh darling don’t you know? I’m already an artist.”

“Come on you two, we got a mission to complete.” Jess redirected.

The three of us set our watches to Earth-3624 and then we took off into the portal.

~~~

The mission is simple, or should I say was simple. There was a Doctor Octopus found in the wrong universe. We were tasked with finding him and sending him to the right Earth. Only problem is he was somewhere in the middle of NYC. So we had all of NYC to find him…just the four of us…looking for one person…in all of NY.

If you’re saying to yourself “Wow that sounds impossible” you’re totally right.

The night began to drag on and on and on. I was exhausted from the constant searching for hours on end. It didn’t help I was also fighting myself from regressing. But as the night dragged on it seemed Doctor Octopus was winning and I was losing.

My regression nagged at me every single moment. All I wanted to do was find a place to curl up, grab my pacifier and take a nap. But I couldn’t! Not now! I had a job to do!

What didn’t help the most was the nagging feeling of needing to go to the bathroom. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right, I should’ve gone before I left. But I was in a rush! I didn’t even know I had to go! Now I’m sitting on the roof squirming every two seconds.

Everything was so frustrating! I’m stuck on some stupid Earth looking for stupid Doctor Octopus in the middle of the stupid night!!…..Okay, maybe my regression was kicking in more than I thought it was.

“Hey,” Hobie swung up onto the roof I was sitting on. “How’s the search going?”

“It’s going.” I said a bit frustrated. “How about you?”

“About the same.” Hobie said, sitting on the edge of the roof next to me.

“I can’t believe they got us working this ridiculous mission. You think Miguel and Jess could just handle this on their own. But noooooo. Instead they pull the two of us in the middle of the night to try and find this wackjob.” I ranted away.

“That’s right Y/N! Stick it to the man! Let that frustration out.” Hobie smirked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I started to squirm in place a bit. I crossed my arms infront of my chest in an effort to mask it.

Hobie eyed me curious but didn’t say anything about it. “I know Jess is searching on the upper east side. I just wanted to join you midtown and make sure you’re doing alright.”

“I’m doing okay. Tired but okay.” I tried to reassure him. But I felt as though he could see right through me. Before he said another word I changed the subject.

“I don’t understand how we’re supposed to find Doc Oct in all of New York.” I said dramatically.

Hobie laughed. “Yeah, what do they expect? Him to come to us?”

The moment those words left Hobie’s mouth we both felt it, our Spidey sense. Of course we jinxed ourselves.

We flipped backward and just out of range for a giant sign that was flying towards us. I landed back on the roof and looked over to an adjacent building. There, standing bold as ever was none other than Doctor Octopus.

“Hello Peters.” He smirked.

Hobie swung over first. “Yeah you’re wrong on both fronts mate.” He swung his guitar at him, landing a nice blow sending the Doctor backwards.

“Once you go against one Spider-Man you go against them all.” He swung his arms again, this time hitting Hobie and sending him backwards.

Now I stepped up, running up, casting my webs and swinging full force towards the doctor. I managed to wrap one of his arms up, but while I did he grabbed me with another. With my leg trapped in his claw, he leaned back and threw me to the roof of a building next to him.

The back of my head hit the ground hard and for a moment I was seeing stars. I was drifting, I wanted to get up and help but my body just wouldn’t let me. I started to fade into darkness for a moment. Both in and out of consciousness.

It was at this time my regression decided to give in. Choosing for itself that it needed to regress more than anything else. What tipped it over the most was the warm feeling I started to feel between my legs. Tears started to fall from my eyes as I realized I was having an accident.

Then came the float gates. My regression wrapped around me like a warm blanket, trying to comfort me in a time of pain and embarrassment. I just want to go home. I don’t want to be here with my wet suit and headache! I just want to go to sleep with my stuffie at home, my pacifier and my pull-up.

I shut my eyes, not wanting more tears to escape. I had to get up, I had keep fighting. What kind of hero would o be if I couldn’t.

“Y/N? Hey! Y/N! Are you okay?” Hobie’s voice echoed in the background. I could hear his footsteps as he ran over to me.

Oh no. Nonononono!

Hobie and I caught eyes the moment I opened mine. He saw everything already. How could I explain the puddle beneath me or the tears streaming down my face?! I’m supposed to be a hero, someone who takes care of others. But I can’t even take care of myself.

There Hobie stood, not disgusting or confused, but worried and concerned about me. “Awwww sweet one-.”

“I’m fine.” I said with a cracking voice. Tears still fell from my eyes as embarrassment filled me.

I tried to sit up fast but he stopped. “Wow wow wow there darling you might have a concussion. Easy does it, easy now.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and helped me to sit up slowly.

He sat beside me, letting me lean on him for support.

I tried my hardest to talk between crying, “ I-I can explain…it just…just-”

“You’re a Little? I figured as much. No need to worry yourself with worries. You’re okay, it’s all okay love. I’ll take care of everything.” He said plain as day.

Maybe it was the concussion. “What?” Was all I managed to say.

“You know, on my Earth everyone knows about regression. It’s more common than you would think. Plenty of Earths know about regression, even if they aren’t as open about as our Earth’s are.” He went on to explain.

“But all of that doesn’t matter right now. Right now we need to get you changed and padded. Then we need to take care of you and your concussion.” Hobie threw his guitar to his back and lifted me bridal style into his arms.

“Wait.” I tried to say.

“What?” He raised an eye brow.

“Don’t we have to get the bad guy?”

“The bad guy? First off, I don’t listen or do what anyone tells me, especially Jess or Miguel. Second off, I already too care of that for us.” He gestured to the roof across from us. There all webbed up stood Doctor Octopus.

“I already phoned Jess who’s on her way to take care of the boring details. I say we get a move on before she starts ask questions we’re not going to answer.” He explained.

After a moment I nodded my head, wrapping my arms around his neck. With the click of his watch Hobie and I were soaring into another portal.

Before I even realized it we were back in my apartment. Hobie walked us into my bathroom, setting me down on the counter top. Then he began to search around.

“Where are your pull-ups at Y/N?” He asked searching under the sink.

To be honest, I was still in shock from this day. Blame it on the concussion but I couldn’t even fathom that this is even happening.

As I watched him raid my bathroom I spoke up, “What are you doing?”

“I just told you I’m looking for your pull-ups.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He stood up and walked back over to me, “Because we need to get you changed before you get a rash or worse.”

I stared at him, still in disbelief. “Why are you doing this for me? How come you don’t think this is weird and why are you being so-.”

He immediately stopped that train of thought by holding my hand in his. “Hey, hey hey. No more worrying about big thoughts okay? Like I said earlier, regression is something I’m familiar with. I’m happy you have an escape from this life as a Spidey. It’s a safe and healthy coping mechanism. I don’t find you or any of this weird. More than anything I want to take care of you.”

“You don’t see me as a weak Spidey because I’m a Little?” I asked, still a bit insecure.

“A weak Spidey?! Hell no!!” He shook his head. “Do you think Pav is a weak Spider-Man?”

I looked at him confused but shook my head no.

“That makes two of us. Pavirt is a Little too. He regresses around the same age as you. Doesn’t matter if you regress, you’re still a Spidey. Don’t get me wrong, I love Pav and I take care of him from time to time when he regresses. But his girlfriend tends to him most the time, I’m just the babysitter. But there’s something special about you. You bring out a side of me that I didn’t know I had.”

He sighed, “I realized early on you were probably a Little, so I kept a careful eye on you. Before you, I was still the cool artist you see before you today. But I was always missing something…something amazing. And I realized that amazing something was you. Without or without your regression. I think you’re truly amazing.”

He leaned forward and took my hand in his, “If you’ll have me, I’d like to take care of you whenever you’re regressed. That way you have someone watching out for you and taking care your needs. I can see you regress pretty young so you’re gonna need a careful eyes watching your trouble maker self.” He smirked.

“So…what do you say?” He asked.

I honestly couldn’t believe my ears. Hobie wants to be my Caregiver?! Also Pav is a Little?!! But mostly, Hobie the “coolest, mysterious, rule breaker” Brown wants to be my Caregiver?!

In disbelief yet happy beyond belief, I smiled and squeezed his hand. “Yes. I’d love for you to be my Caregiver.”

Hobie smirked and squeezed my hand back. “Trust me darling the honor is all mine.”

“But first and foremost let’s get you changed out of that wet suit and into something more comfortable. Now for the final time where are your pull-ups at?” He said dragging the last part out.

“They’re in my backpack.” I shrugged it off and handed it to him.

Hobie took the backpack from me and started to take all the supplies he needs out.

“So you don’t think I’m gross?” I asked, still anxious about the whole accident.

“Nope. You’re a younger Little. Happens all the time. It’s no big deal at all.” He said as if it was nothing. But he’s right, it really is nothing. It’s just an accident. “Alright let’s get you changed darling.”

Hobie helped me take my suit off. He grabbed me a fresh pair of pjs and a new pull-up then proceeded to change me into both.

“There,” he stood back admiring his work. “All nice and cozy!” He picked me up and carried me into the living room. “See? Nothing to worry about. It’s as if it never happened.”

I hugged him tightly in his arms, “Thank you.”

He smirked, “This is just the beginning.”

He carried me over to the couch and set me down. “Hold on, who’s this?” He pulled my stuffie from the couch cushion. “Y/N you didn’t tell me you had a friend over. Introduce to your mate.”

“Hobie this is (your fav stuffie name).” I said introducing the two.

“Pleasure to meet ya.” He said, shaking the stuffies hand. I started giggling.

“Now, I want you resting on this couch. I’m going to get you some juice and a cold compress for your head, okay?”

The moment Hobie left I immediately started to miss him. He’s only been my Caregiver for not even 5 minutes and I’m already so attached to him. Plus he wasn’t even that far! He’s literally just in the kitchen.

Luckily he returned soon, sippy cup of juice in one hand, and a damp towel in the other. “Alright sweet one sit up for a second,” he sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. “There we are.”

He laid the towel on my forehead which felt sooooooo nice! He handed me the sippy cup before he grabbed the tv remote. “Alright let’s see what your earth has on the telly.”

I always thought that as Spider-Girl I had to be the one taking care of everyone else, but Hobie made me realized what I needed more than anything was someone to take care of me too.

I haven’t felt safe like this in a long time. Just leaning against him, watching some mindless show on the television and feeling safe and cared for. I curled into his side and rested my head on his shoulder. He leaned forward and placed a kiss to my head.

We stayed like that the whole night, just Little Spidey and Caregiver Spidey.

#age regression #age regressor #agere #agere little #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere post #little space #sfw littlespace #age regression fic #padded little #padded agere #padded regressor #padded #ageredips #agere dips #sfw dips #agere caregiver #caregiver!hobie brown #little!reader #sfw little community #sfw little blog #sfw little stuff #sfw little #sfw little post #little blog #age regression blog #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

[kaixserzz]

Loyal Knight 1

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore x Gn!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 4.5k words ┊ Fluff + Hurt/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | Part 2 *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

I DON'T WRITE FOR MONTHS AND I REREAD MY OLD DOTTORE FICS AND IM SUDDENLY OBSESSED WITH HIM AGAIN. I WILL RECLAIM THE TITLE OF HOUSE OF SOFT DOTTORE. a long one to make it up to yall ,, but i have to cut it into 2 parts bc its too long LMAO <3 also inspired by @fatuismooches's dottore fics, they're too good

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: canon typical violence, basic dottore warnings, injuries, blood, mentions of lots of scars, experiments, and death, dottore and reader r both crazy, obsessiveness/possessiveness from both parties

i. foolishness

Peaceful and quiet are the words that describe the small village where you spent your childhood. Nothing ever happened in your village. There were no attacks from the monsters that lurked outside the lands, no arguments between neighbors, and crimes rarely occurred. People freely walked outside without a sense of fear in their hearts.

It was incredibly boring, to say the least.

Not a single form of entertainment has occurred since you came into existence, and the village will continue to be boring unless you depart as soon as possible. Playing with other children can only do so much to quell your thirst for adventure, to swing a sword— a real one, not the wooden sword your mother gave you— and finally experience the thrill of a battle, be it against a monster or a fellow adventurer. The itch for excitement consumes you, and you realize that this insignificant village will never fulfill your desires.

That is until you met him.

The sun was beginning to set among the tall trees of the forest, concealing itself within the deep shades of green from numerous leaves. However, it still managed to blind your eyes as beams of light peeked through the forest's lush trees. In your hand, you gripped a real weapon, though smaller than a sword, perfectly suited to your tiny hands. The weight was light enough for you to hold it upright with ease. It was your father's dagger, kept hidden in a chest that your parents believed you would never discover, let alone open. Yet, little did they know that your burning desire for an adventure would defy all odds.

As you ventured deeper into the forest, your eyes were drawn to the sight of smoke a few paces away from your position, casting subtle hints of orange onto the surrounding trees. Fire.

Could someone be camping out there? It seemed likely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought of encountering another adventurer. A smile emerged on your lips as you suppressed your excitement, crouching down to stealthily approach the camp.

To your dismay, it wasn't what you had hoped for. Instead of encountering another adventurer, you found yourself overlooking a small Hilichurl camp nestled beneath the edge of the cliff where you stood. It was a rather underwhelming sight. If you could recall correctly, it was a mission your father discussed with your mother. This Hilichurl camp posed no real threat. Despite a posted mission to eliminate it, no one had bothered to undertake the task, mainly because the camp was so weak that the rewards offered were hardly worth the effort.

Nevertheless, even at the young age of six, you possessed the understanding to recognize that what might be considered weak for seasoned adventurers was still stronger than you—a battle-hungry kid. Perfect! Excitement surged through your veins as the thought of battling real monsters with your father's dagger filled your mind. But before you could proceed any further, your attention was caught by a nearby bush. The Hilichurl seemed oblivious, but you were certain you saw it tremble ever so slightly...

To your astonishment, a person of your own age crouched behind the bush, clearly hiding from the Hilichurl. Recognition immediately hit you as soon as you laid your eyes upon the kid's teal curls, the gloves on his hands that you never saw him without, and the prominent scowl on his face, sharp teeth poking out for view.

It was none other than Zandik, the child who was often subjected to rumors and whispers in the village. The other kids labeled him as a 'weirdo' due to his disinterest in playing outside like children of his age and his lack of enthusiasm for socializing. You've heard your grandparents curse Zandik behind his back, talking about being a heretic at such a young age and conducting 'weird' experiments on live animals or machinery.

He was an oddity to your village, that's something you'd agree amongst the numerous rumors about him. But he certainly spiced up your boring life in the village. You've tried speaking to him a couple of times but to no avail, getting shut down faster than you can think. Despite this, you discerned that he was just an introverted kid with unusual interests. What was so wrong about that?

Still, what was he doing in the middle of the forest? Doesn't he hate being outside— wait, why is he creeping closer to the Hilichurl camp!? Without hesitation, you swiftly lunged toward the bush, attempting to maintain as much stealth as possible, and managed to tackle the boy to the ground. Your hands moved swiftly to cover Zandik's mouth, predicting his enraged cries. Fortunately, due to his smaller stature, you easily pinned him down.

"Hey, hey- calm down!" You whispered, trying to maintain your grip on him despite his excessive squirming and weak punches "It's just me! I live a few houses down yours!" Still, that didn't subdue the furious boy, scarlet eyes glaring right at you as he dug his sharp teeth onto the tender flesh of your hands.

Biting back a scream of pain, you glared back at him with the same caliber and got off of him, holding your poor hand that was on the brink of getting bitten off by your crazy neighbor. Zandik regained composure, showing pure disdain at you and at his dirtied clothes, before pointing an accusing finger at you. "How dare you attack me!? You wretched vermin! Who do you think you are for laying your hands on me!" He spat, rubbing at his skin restlessly as if attempting to rid himself of an imagined filth.

"I-I wasn't-" You cleared your throat as you scooted away from him, giving him much-needed space, and raised your hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, I must've startled you. I wasn't gonna attack you, I just... acted without thinking..." The boy's eyes just narrowed at you when you hastily explained yourself to him, voicing out your concern for his safety being so close to a Hilichurl camp. Understandably so, he seemed unconvinced by your words.

"Well, there's no need for you to play the role of a 'knight in shining armor', thinking you're saving me from harm." The boy scoffed, rolling his ruby eyes as he heeds you no mind once more, already over with this senseless conversation. "I am perfectly capable of handling this situation on my own, without anyone's assistance. So kindly run along and refrain from uttering another word to me ever again."

Yet you spoke anyways.

"Whuh- but you have no weapon. How are you going to fight those Hilichurls?"

Another roll of his eyes— don't you listen to a word he says? He grumpily huffed at your stubbornness, "I had no intention of engaging in a fight with them. I merely had a need for something that happened to be in their camp."

You arched a brow. "They'll attack you on sight."

"I am aware."

"Okay, then how are you going to get it then?"

Before Zandik could utter a word, a Hilichurl emerged from the bush, startling the two of you. Out of instinct, you grabbed the collar of Zandik's shirt and pulled him back, narrowly evading the swing of the Hilichurl's club. You were quick to pull out the dagger from the hilt when Zandik stopped you, a wide, toothy grin on his lips.

Something metallic emerged from the ground, ensnaring the Hilichurl that tried to pursue you both, only to perish from the electric shocks that surged through the contraption, rendering the creature unconscious within mere seconds.

"Traps..." You muttered under your breath, amazed at the machine you'd never seen before, glancing at the boy beside you. He had this crazed glint in his eyes as he relished his accomplishment. "I see, guess you really didn't need my help."

Somehow, you were more shocked to see the boy look so smug, crossing his arms at you as if to say 'I told you so'. But of course, things don't always go according to plan. Danger has a way of creeping up on unsuspecting, vulnerable sheep in the wild.

Hilichurls residing inside the small tent near the campfire emerged, their anger palpable as they confronted the sight of their fallen comrade and the presence of two children. Judging by Zandik's expression, he hadn't considered the possibility of more Hilichurls being present. And truth be told, you hadn't either. It seemed both of you had underestimated the situation, assuming there was only one Hilichurl in the camp.

"So," You began, positioning yourself in front of Zandik. You thought you saw his hands tremble at the threatening growls of the Hilichurls about to attack him, but whether it was just a delusion or if it was real, you didn't mention it to him. "How about I finally take the role of the knight and shining armor?"

Zandik still found it in himself to glare at you once more. "I-I can handle this on my own-"

You ignored the slight shake in his voice. "Can you fight?" The Hilichurls took a step forward, hissing and growling louder. When Zandik stayed silent behind you, you merely shot him a smile. "Thought so. Let me protect you then!"

That made him frown. You? Protect him? Of all people? He was well aware that the villagers would rejoice upon hearing news of him, the so-called freak, being attacked by monsters in some unknown location. Why would you bother exerting the effort to 'save' him when you could easily turn your back and abandon him to face the situation alone?

Zandik refused to express his confusion though.

"You are not gaining anything in return from this, you vermin."

With a sharp laugh and a shake of your head, you raise your dagger. "Sure, I didn't expect anything anyways." Giving him a wink, it was now your turn to smile, even as your enemies closed in on you. "I'm your knight in shining armor, after all!"

ii. friendship

It was merely transactional at first.

Well, for Zandik at least. You believed that the two of you were friends after you've graciously 'saved' him from the rest of the Hilichurls that attacked you both. You were especially convinced by your own imagination when Zandik took it upon himself to patch you up from your injuries.

"To avoid suspicion," He told you, his displease was seemingly permanently etched on his expression as he put a bandaid on your cheek. "They will ask where you got your injuries from, and your mouth will blurt out the truth before you have a chance to think. I'm doing this for my own sake, to save myself from further humiliation." Though, Zandik knew that you thought otherwise if the big, dopey smile on your face wasn't telling enough.

Zandik only tolerated your presence out of convenience. He would never openly admit, especially not to you, that without your combat skills and knowledge, he wouldn't have made it out without injuries. After several days of deep contemplation, he finally proposed an agreement of sorts that would benefit both parties to you.

As long as you would provide him with your assistance for his projects, whether it involved acquiring necessary items, fighting monsters, sneaking into your grandfather's workshop, purchasing supplies (he was considerate enough to give you his allowance), or even just gathering plants during your walks outside. In return, he would help you stay out of trouble. He quickly learned that your parents would ground you if they found out about any reckless actions (you once pushed a kid into a lake to 'teach him how to swim' and you've been grounded for a week ever since).

You would tease him for this, reminding him of the words he once told you.

"You are not gaining anything in return from this, you vermin."

And Zandik would always counter it with a fierce glare, then say, "You can't be of use if you're stuck inside your house. If you want to be... 'friends' with me, then it's essential that you listen to what I tell you," It's hard not to giggle whenever he says that word with such disgust.

He might have taken you for a fool, believing that you were easily swayed by his words. However, deep down, he always had a lingering suspicion that you were merely humoring him, following along with his plans for your own hidden intentions. Despite that, he didn't see it as a significant threat to himself, considering that your compliance and patience had not caused any real harm so far.

As the years went by, Zandik's initial hostility and indifference towards you gradually transformed. From pushing you away when you get too close, straight up insulting you, or merely ignoring your very existence, to allowing brief physical contact, bringing him outside for trivial activities such as watching the sunset or having a picnic, and taking your words of criticism into consideration.

Truly, he did his best to keep you away from him, giving you dangerous tasks to somehow scare you off, but you only took this as a challenge, your physical prowess growing more day by day. In a way, he unwittingly became a catalyst for your growth. It doesn't help that you've shown genuine interest in his studies. It was an unexpected and intriguing dynamic that kept drawing him closer to you, even as he tried to maintain his distance.

The way your eyes would sparkle in wonder whilst you read his notes, or watch him tinker with whatever he was working on had an unexpected effect on Zandik. It made him feel a sense of warmth in his chest, an odd feeling of pride for managing to captivate and awe you.

Since when did he start feeling that...? No matter, it's not much of a big deal.

Zandik's attempts to deny you even a sliver of satisfaction by withholding his attention were in vain. You had a knack for asking thought-provoking questions that ignited a buzzing curiosity in his mind, questions that were too intriguing to be left unanswered.

Once, he would bury his nose in books whenever you were around, hoping to ignore your presence until you eventually went away like the pest he saw you as. But now?

Closing his book upon your grandiose entrance to his bedroom, he raised a brow at your current predicament. "You look awful." That was an understatement. You had a black eye, your clothes were tattered and blood dripped down your nose. He could also spot the subtle limp with the way you walked.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, "I did something stupid." That was all you said, too tired and hurt to quip back at him. With an annoyed sigh, Zandik stood up from his bed and went toward his drawer to grab the medicine kit inside. "Some kids found our usual spot and trashed it... Decided to give 'em a beating cuz of it." Zandik narrowed his eyes at your words and you gave him a half-hearted smile. "I hit 'em with the scabbard."

"You always do something stupid." He scowls, takes a seat beside you, and began to patch up your injuries. "There was no need for you to attack them; they might end up telling your parents about it later. Besides, we can always find a different spot."

Completely ignoring everything else he said, you brightened up against his touch. "So you do pay attention to me!"

Zandik glares at you, shaking his head. "Don't twist my words, you buffoon."

You merely laughed out loud, throwing your head back as your shoulders shook, only to be cut off with a yelp when Zandik presses his finger on a bruise on your arm. "Do not misconstrue our association as having any significance. It is purely beneficial for the both of us, and I harbor no sense of concern or attachment towards you." Zandik hissed.

Despite his digging nails onto your bruise, you chose to bear the pain and gave him a thoughtful look instead. "Mhm, is that why you took out your medicine kit even though I haven't asked you to patch me up?" You queried, tilting your head at the amusing sight of Zandik pausing for a moment, staring at his hands that held bandaids and rubbing alcohol.

"Or when I get too close to a plant that could kill me, you'd stop me and tell me how dangerous it is when I could always step on it and get whatever sickness from it, just so you could try and cure me?"

Zandik pursed his lips at that. He didn't even think of that... Why didn't he...?

You find this hilariously satisfying, so you continued. "I've been hanging out with you for a few years now, I think I'm confident to understand some shit that goes through your head. You could easily get rid of me since you can defend yourself, better than we first met, but yet here I am, inside your room, sitting on your bed." And as if you're victorious, you placed your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest. "In conclusion, we are best friends!"

For the first time in his brief existence, Zandik found himself at a loss for words. He couldn't refute the undeniable truths you presented, backed by compelling evidence that could surpass any hypothesis he could conjure. He was unable to distance himself from you as effortlessly as he once did.

What is this...? Is this what they truly called friendship? A companion who would place unwavering trust in him? Zandik couldn't help but recognize the subtle rhythm of his heartbeat whenever you were in close proximity, or the way his fingers involuntarily twitched at the sound of your laughter or the sight of your smile...

What a load of shit.

The boy rolled his eyes, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, indulge in your fantasies. You are simply a tool of convenience to me."

You couldn't have expected less. You weren't hurt by what he said, you're far more used to harsher words. But you know that you've hit him right where you wanted, seeing the boy fuming where he sat, but you'll drop it for now. You can always prod and tease him in the future.

With a bright smile that made Zandik more confused about his emotions, you let it go. "Right right, of course."

iii. familiarity

From the moment Zandik met you, you became a constant presence in his memories. You stuck by his side like some parasite, annoying him to no end but still proved yourself to be a companion worthy of praise. Strangely enough, you were obedient to him mostly, as if your world began to revolve around him.

So when he was exiled from the village, it came as no surprise to find you faithfully by his side, watchful for pursuers, hand on your sword's hilt.

Zandik had no choice but to let you follow him to the Akademiya and include you in his plans. As long as he remained in control and you willingly played the role of his complaint 'knight', he had little reason to complain. Though Zandik was sure you were going to be a thorn by his side, now that you've also decided to be his roommate.

As to why you were adamant about living in the same space as he does, "You'll die before you can even reach your goals. You can't cook for shit, forget to sleep, and the only way you'll do any of your chores is if they're starting to irritate you or get in your way." You confidently declared, earning an expected glare from Zandik.

"So you'll be the housekeeper of our dorm," he snarkily remarked, crossing his arms as he suspiciously eyed you. Your growing smile only confirmed his skepticism that you were up to something. "Is that what you want? Then go be someone else's housekeeper."

Rarely did his words offend you, but this time, you unexpectedly sighed, your smile losing a bit of its spirit. Your reaction caught Zandik off guard, but he never brought it up. Nevertheless, you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, poking at his cheek to piss him off even more. "Nah, you're not getting rid of me that easily." You chuckle when he swatted your hand away from his face, "Jus' wanna be of service of you, I guess."

Zandik couldn't help but scoff. How long were you going to cling to that foolish agreement the two of you had when you were children? He was already capable enough to go on on his own, and you've always had the freedom to do anything you pleased. And yet, Zandik never once told you to leave, nor did he provide any reason for you to depart from his side

True to your words, you did most of the housework of your own volition, nor did you voice out any complaint. In fact, you quite enjoyed it. Doing laundry, cooking, cleaning the house, throwing the random person you've kidnapped for blood samples in a random alley— while Zandik himself kept himself cooped up in your shared bedroom, slaving himself in whatever he was currently working on.

You still did whatever task Zandik has given you and allow you to contribute more and more to his projects, though you had to remind Zandik repeatedly that, while he was at the Akademiya, not to learn, but take advantage of its benefits (like a good workspace for him and abundant sources if Zandik ever sought knowledge on a certain topic), he was still required to attended classes.

Other than a few problems here and there, living together felt increasingly natural for both of you. Zandik couldn't deny that a sense of closeness had developed between you since you started sharing the same living space. It wasn't as bothersome as he originally thought. It was actually... Nevermind.

You placed a plate of his favorite meal onto the less cluttered side of his desk, as well as a piping hot cup of coffee, even though the clock just struck 12 AM. You knew Zandik would refuse to get a wink of sleep as long as his paperwork was unfinished. He didn't even spare you a glance, merely grabbed the cup of coffee and began to sip while his other hand never ceased its precise and fluid movements as he continued to write. Nothing was bound to break his concentration.

Letting out a small yawn, you gently placed down the bag full of supplies that Zandik needed to complete his current project onto his bed, before kicking off your shoes and climbing onto the top bunk. "I've got everything you needed. I also explored some ruins like you asked and jotted down anything interesting I found on paper." His writing briefly paused, his clothes rustled, and a faint hum of acknowledgment reached your ears. A smile formed on your lips as you peered down at him from above.

"You're lucky we have the same classes since we're in the same Darshan, so I also wrote you notes. It's not like I think you won't catch up, but I thought I'd just spare you the effort of trying to pay attention in class, so you can go ahead and keep doing your personal work."

You watched him momentarily stop his writing to stretch his back, popping his joints, before scarfing down the meal you've cooked just for him. "How thoughtful of you." He quipped, his own way of expressing gratitude, you've liked to think.

But of course, would it truly be a normal day without your drama?

"I know right, I am thoughtful." You said with a swoon onto your bed, dramatically sighing and expressing your woes.

You could basically feel him roll his eyes at your antics. "My, you are unbelievably humble." Zandik sarcastically remarked,

"Oh, just what would you do without me?" You teased, and you intended to leave it off from there, exhaustion weighing your bones. It was just one statement really, but you didn't expect him to cease his relentless scribbling. You raise your head and peered once more at Zandik's hunched form.

"Well, I suppose I wouldn't have made much progress in all of my projects, considering you've always taken care of obtaining my supplies and other necessities," he admitted, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair, lost in thought. "You've grown smart enough to provide actual solid feedback, even giving me opinions when I hit dead ends. You've proven yourself to be quite useful as my assistant."

You clicked your tongue. "What a charmer."

"Though, even without you, I could still make progress. It wouldn't take me long to solve the problem of acquiring my own supplies and resources." He added, which you pouted at.

"Wow, you had me fooled by a second there. Thought you'd want me to stay by your side."

Zandik raised a curious brow at that. "You've always had the choice either do as you pleased and leave me. It's clear that I don't care much for you." You held back a laugh at that declaration, shaking your head in amusement. "I never asked you to come with me, you were the one who followed me here of your own accord. I was the only one who was exiled between the two of us. But you insisted, even going as far as raising your sword against your own parents just to be by my side."

Without much thought, you simply shrugged at that. You eyed your sword that sat at the corner of your room, eyes trailing each intricate design of its scabbard. "I just did what my heart told me."

Zandik scoffed at that, finally tilting his head up to where you looked down at him, an unimpressed expression on his face. "The heart is merely responsible for pumping oxygenated blood throughout the body. It is the brain that you should listen to."

You barked out a laugh, your eyes getting heavy, but you refused to close your eyes just yet. "Hah, if I start listening to my brain, then I wouldn't be me! Besides, I do use my brain!"

He didn't seem convinced at all, snorting at the notion. "Oh? When? I don't recall a single moment that you have." A small smirk formed on his lips as he saw you glaring at him.

"When I fight! I'm a pretty good strategist."

The silence between you grew more tense than you would have liked, as you found yourself staring into Zandik's scarlet eyes for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he broke the silence and admitted, in defeat,

"... I suppose you're right."

You let out a gasp at his words, a wide grin spread across your face as you quickly retrieved your notepad from your pocket. "Another mark for the 'agreement tally'!" You exclaimed, visibly delighted by the turn of events.

You cheered loudly, prompting an exasperated groan from Zandik at the sight of that dreaded notepad, and opted to return to his paperwork. "Unbelievable," he muttered quietly, focusing completely on the task at hand, already being held back for long enough.

Yet, he couldn't help but bite his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

#favoniuslibrary #˚₊໒🥧꒱kai writes₊˚ #╰┈➤ il dottore #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader

[mavrintarou]

[4:03PM] Geto Suguru

First Geto Suguro - if you haven't seen the newest season of JJK - he is one hot tamale.

Warning: explicit smut; Y/n has... an interesting curse technique; angst - spoiler . Y/n was always cast aside as her curse energy was little to none and everyone found her useless. She was merely kept in their midst solely due to being the last surviving member of her bloodline.

To her delight, she preferred that they ignored and excluded her, she cherished the moments when everyone left her undisturbed. Nothing appealed to her more than being left alone, engrossed in her books, with no interruption.

However, the higher-up was determined to maintain their control over Y/n, they were patiently anticipating the manifestation of her curse energy and technique.

“Her bloodline ends with her… surely Y/n will manifest the greatest curse technique when the time comes.”

. .

Y/n entered her apartment and hooked her keys on the rack. Under her breath, she barely murmured, “Yami yori idete yami yori kuroku, sono kegare o misogiharae.” An invisible shield immediately locks down the perimeter of her apartment.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she muttered out loud. She hung her jacket in the closet when she finally saw him emerge from the dark corner.

Geto Suguru.

She has been informed of his heinous crimes, and the substantial bounty placed on his head if he was ever sighted.

Cherry Blossom, emerged out from the wall to her left, whimpering, “he is too strong master…”

Y/n lift her hand, patting the cursed spirit on the head, “he is an old friend, sorry, I hope he did not hurt you or the others?”

Cherry Blossom whimper, “he ate Smelly…”

Y/n cast a glare at Suguru, “really?”

Suguru threw his hands up in defense, “my bad, I didn’t know he was one of your curses.”

“Guardians! We are her guardians!” Cherry Blossom shouted, before cowering and apologizing to her master for her sudden outburst.

“It is okay, Cherry. You may go back, I’ll handle him.” Y/n assured with a smile.

The blue-gray curse disappears into the wall, entrusting her master. Y/n can feel her other curse spirit friends retrieving as well.

Once they were out of her sight and presence, she cast another veil, not only for privacy but to protect any potential lurking eyes and ears that might be following Geto.

The first time Geto witnessed Y/n’s curse technique, he was dumbfounded. The shy and meek petite girl fooled everyone behind her thick-rimmed glasses and books.

Geto was assigned to a mission alone to hunt down an unknown grade curse spirit that has been spotted at one of Shibuya’s hottest nightclubs. He walked down the corridors to the private room in the VIP area. As he neared, he opened the room and found a couple inside.

It took a second for him to realize what was going on. They were fucking. The man had the woman against the wall, thrusting hard that the room echoed with nothing but her moans and skin slapping skin. Her moans could be heard even with the loud music echoing in the background.

They didn’t seem to acknowledge him or sense his presence.

It was him, Geto thought to himself, the cursed spirit. When he got the mission and read the case file that numerous women have disappeared without a trace. Now it made sense, it was a sex-cursed spirit behind the missing women case.

Geto released a weary sigh, unfastening his sleeve cuffs and rolling them up. He couldn’t help but groan inwardly, feeling the discomfort of interrupting such an intimate moment. However, just as he was about to speak, his gaze connected with the woman, who met his eyes head-on.

His eyes narrowed in confusion but quickly widened with disbelief as he recognized her before him. He couldn’t believe his own eyes at the unexpected revelation.

Y/n’s head tilted back against the wall, her mouth echoing soft moans and she pressed a finger to lips, silently gesturing him to remain quiet and standby.

Suguru blinked repeatedly, making certain he wasn’t caught in a hallucination. Yet, every time he opened his eyes, there she was: Y/l/n Y/n, the last person he least expected to encounter.

He felt his cock jolt when she smirked at him. He watched her legs wrap around the man’s waist, tightening her arms around his shoulders and whimpering loudly, “cum, cum inside me… give me your cum.”

Suguru had to look away, feeling his cheeks flushed. He was getting turned on by the second. He didn’t need to see the rest of it, he heard the man finish, groaning and Y/n crying in bliss.

Seconds later, he heard a thump on the floor. His eyes bulge out watching the man disintegrate into the air.

“What… the fuck?” His eyes couldn’t leave Y/n’s naked body as she slipped her tight dress back on. “Care to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

She tidied herself up before responding. “I took down a cursed spirit, no big deal,” Y/n said casually, walking up to him as if a few seconds ago, she had not just taken an unknown cursed spirit down by draining their cum dry.

“Wh – what?” he stuttered, caught off guard. Her small hand pressed against the pecs of his chest and they slide down to his abdomen. “Y/n…” her name came out like a choke more than a warning.

“Want to find out?” She looked up at him with eyes that made his knees weak.

“A – about what?”

“My curse technique?”

“H – how?”

“I’ll show you,” she whispered, and his eyes screamed yes.

She pushed him onto the couch and straddle his lap, her lips pressed against him while her hands worked at the belt buckle.

“Y/n,” Suguru breathed when she broke off the kiss and scoot off his lap, she tugged his briefs freeing his cock that was hard and aching. Before he could utter a word, her mouth was already wrapped around the tip. “Fuck…” he groaned, head tilting back against the couch. His eyes struggle to stay open as her head bobbed on his lap, he felt himself melting into a puddle before her touch.

That’s when he realized… she was feasting off his curse energy.

He did nothing to stop her.

Her mouth releases his cock with a pop and she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Y/n repositioned herself on his lap, pulling her panties to the side and rubbing herself against the tip of his cock.

“Y/n,” Suguru murmured, a hand trailing up her waist to her chest. He felt himself draining by the second but he wanted to remember this moment, wanted to hang long enough to feel her pussy wrap around his cock. “Please…” His hooded eyes only followed her as she leaned closer until their lips barely touched.

Suguru quickly leaned up to kiss her, but was a second too slow as Y/n backed away with a playful smile on her lips before he could kiss her. With the last ounce of strength he had, one hand gripped her upper arm and the other snaked behind her neck, pulling her down to kiss him.

Y/n moaned into his mouth and dropped her weight, taking in his cock until he was fully sheath inside of her.

Instantly, Suguru felt a surge of energy through his body. His grip tighten around her arm and tighten the root of her hair, as he tugged her head back, breaking their kiss, his lips trail down her jaw and neck.

“Su… garu…” Y/n moaned, rocking her hips.

His grip loosened, and he leaned back and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. Her eyes are a vibrant emerald green, a color he was sure was not her natural color.

As if he was silently evaluating her, Y/n answered him.

She began rolling her hips, gradually increasing her speed.  

Suguru’s hand move to grip her hips, guiding her to bounce on his cock, his hips were meeting hers, thrusting deep and harder. Her cursed energy surged into him, kindling a blazing power within his very being.

He craved more and more.

Y/n gasped, being flipped onto her back with Suguru peering down at her. He widened her legs and continue to thrust.

He cursed, “you feel so… fucken tight… so good…” he felt his sack pulsing, ready to cum inside her.

“Cum inside me,” Y/n begged, affectionately touching his face.

As if her words were laced with magic, Suguru came hard, his hips struggling to stop even as he shot his cum deep into her womb. He couldn’t stop, wanting to continue to feel his cock stretch out her tight pussy. Her walls flutter and squeezed against his cock, milking every last drop out of him.

Suguru finally halt his movement, breathing hard and staring darkly into her eyes. He understood her cursed technique now.

Y/n possessed the ability to not only absorb cursed energy but also enhance it, amplify one’s cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

She fueled most of her cursed energy by hunting down semi-grade 1 or higher cursed spirits. She will seduce and have sex with them, absorbing their energy through their orgasm. She had the ability to manipulate and control cursed spirits much like Suguru, the only difference is she has cursed spirits submitting at her beck and call – wanting and willing to be her servant for a bit of her energy through any sort of physical intimate gesture whether it be through a simple pat on the head or a simple caress. She receives most of her cursed energy through sexual intimacy.

Suguru has never experienced such a potent surge of energy coursing through his veins; it felt as though every fiber of his being was fully charged.

Since then, he would come to her, seeking physical intimacy from her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Y/n said a second time, standing six feet away from him.

The wanted man stepped forward but was hit with an invisible force shield. That was another one of her specialties, she had the ability to create an invisible force shield as wide and far as sixty-five kilometers.

“Don’t be like that,” Suguru pleaded, pressing his large hands against her shield. “I need you… you’re all I have.”

“You should have thought about that before you became a wanted man.”

“I just want to be wanted by you.”

Y/n won’t deny the sexual connection she has with Suguru. It was a win-win relationship. His technique allowed her to feast and fuel on the cursed spirits he orally ingests, just as she can amplify his cursed energy through sex.

She draw back her shield and Sugar stepped forward into her safe zone. He cupped her face, while his other hand wrapped tightly around her waist. “Come with me, follow me.” His mouth hovers over hers, waiting for her reply. “Together, we can create a world… a new world…”

Y/n shook her head, “leave me out of it, ‘Guru.”

He loved the nickname she gave him, it already made his cock twitch in his pants.

“Fair enough,” he suspected her answer and respected it. Suguru does not know what the future holds and truthfully, he didn’t want her to be entangled in his plans, but he couldn’t completely let her go either. He had recently come to realize that his feelings for her went beyond using her as a mere vessel to fuel his cursed energy. Although she never voiced it, her actions demonstrated a genuine concern and care for him. “But don’t abandon me, please.”

She couldn’t even if she wanted to.

His lips kissed hers softly until she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Suguru easily lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to her room and gently placed her on her bed.

Their clothes scattered all over in seconds as he pressed the tip of his cock to her pussy, impaling her slowly.

Neither of them spoke, silence enveloped them both, as neither had the desire to broach the truth of how this encounter could potentially be their final meeting.  

It suddenly made perfect sense to her why he had been usually gentle towards her lately, treating her as delicately as if she was a fragile flower. He held her tenderly with the hands that had killed hundreds.

“Suguru,” Y/n moaned, pressing his forehead against hers, I love you.

“Y/n,” he called her name with the same gentleness, he thrust deeply, groaning against her mouth, I love you too.

He made love to her repeatedly until the morning. She lay in his arms, pressing a kiss to his heart.

Hours later when she woke up, he was gone.

Months later, tears spill from her eyes as Gojo Satoru stood before her. In Gojo’s palms were Suguru’s black circle earrings.

Her hands trembled as she took them from his palm, her fingers closing around them.

Her other arm encircled her bulging belly, providing a secure embrace for their unborn child that nestled within.

. . .

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen geto suguru #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n

[hollybell51]

It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket? 

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower. 

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away. 

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit? 

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed. 

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell. 

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked? 

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought. 

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more. 

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily. 

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing? 

“I hope you’re ok.” 

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.” 

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.” 

God, this man. 

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.” 

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.” 

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope. 

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something. 

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little. 

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!” 

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.” 

“What devil?” 

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.” 

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?” 

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it. 

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever. 

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.” 

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right? 

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him. 

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.” 

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand. 

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.” 

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.” 

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression. 

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.” 

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him. 

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces. 

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled? 

“What?” 

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?” 

“Oh God.” 

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him. 

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.” 

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.” 

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?” 

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper. 

“Oh.” 

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.” 

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?” 

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.” 

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.” 

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste. 

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago. 

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips. 

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.” 

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.” 

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever. 

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.” 

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead. 

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.” 

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier. 

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those. 

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you. 

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off. 

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).” 

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.” 

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe. 

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.” 

“Would you like me to?” 

Again, “yes.” 

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.” 

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind. 

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs. 

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused. 

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him. 

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful. 

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–” 

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that? 

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?” 

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going. 

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work. 

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?” 

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam. 

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now. 

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.” 

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.” 

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him. 

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.” 

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip. 

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?” 

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly. 

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much. 

“Mhm.” 

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra. 

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?” 

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently. 

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then. 

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him. 

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.” 

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion. 

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?” 

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute. 

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip. 

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?” 

“Ok.” 

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you. 

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).” 

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea. 

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!” 

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again. 

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick. 

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time. 

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get. 

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him. 

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle. 

“Hm?” 

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--” 

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–” 

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control. 

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him. 

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being. 

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.” 

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.” 

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–” 

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. 

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him. 

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?” 

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.” 

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.” 

“Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right? 

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted. 

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs. 

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own. 

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs. 

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips. 

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.” 

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while. 

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest. 

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?” 

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.” 

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure. 

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?” 

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?” 

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you. 

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked. 

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked. 

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time? 

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.” 

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement. 

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?” 

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.” 

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating. 

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth. 

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” 

You felt him smile. “Hm?” 

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight. 

“Oh, (Y/N)--” 

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.” 

“What is it like?” 

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–” 

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close. 

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth. 

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. 

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–” 

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was. 

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–” 

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.” 

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?” 

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.” 

The frown deepened. “So… yes?” 

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?” 

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth. 

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart. 

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow. 

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.” 

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away. 

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing. 

“I like being with you, too.” 

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

#adam warlock #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #mcu #marvel #gotg3 #gotg vol 3 #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut

[luxraine]

"Why is loving you not fair?"

Earth 1610! Miles x Reader: angst with a happy ending.

word count: 2.3k

Author's note: This is inspired by littyhoney. As my first post, feedback would be appreciated. I sincerely apologize for any of the poor spanish translation as I am not fluent, but I still tried for the sake of the character. I hope you enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. ♡

You, [Name] [Last Name] grew up in Brooklyn, New York. The city that is so compelling, with numerous crimes making appearances over the years. But the said city wasn’t any less beautiful with Spiderman, serving as its hero for more than 10 years and preventing fear and terror from taking over the citizens. Growing up, your parents have been out of the picture due to an Incident involving Spiderman and the villains who he was fighting against. No matter how hard it was to force yourself to mature faster than any normal kid resulting from the absence of your parents, you never blamed Spiderman for failing to save them. You understood the responsibilities that come with being a hero and to your eyes, he will always be. You have an older sibling, who is the reason why you managed to keep your childhood home. But the only thing is that they live in another state because of their job. It didn’t make you feel lonely, though. And you owe it to the Davis, whose family your parents were close with. Mrs. Rio, who treats you so kindly and invites you in for every lunch and dinner to eat the meals she deliciously makes and Mr. Jefferson, who never forgets to make you feel welcome in his home.

But on top of that… Miles. Miles Morales, the courteous boy you did everything together with, the overprotective boy who instructed you to update him on whatever you do and wherever you go, and the boy who has your heart.

Having to live and raise yourself on your own, you believe in achieving things through hard work. That’s how it is and always has for you. However, there is one thing that you’ll never be able to have.

His heart.

No matter how much love, passion, and patience you put into it.

Ever since he got bitten by a radioactive spider, which alternated his dna and gave him spider-like abilities, you couldn’t be more proud of Miles. The boy has always been wanting to prove himself throughout his life, that by doing the things he’s passionate about can bring changes into his life that is full of expectations. Ever since you found out, you have been with him through thick and thin. Never once doubting his capabilities. Being in your family who has a record for being geniuses in science and technology allowed you to be a use of your best friend, Spiderman. By giving database information to be able to catch bad guys, to adding features to his spider suit. You were the one constantly making adjustments to his web shooters, by enhancing its strength and expanding its abilities. You provided him with support and company, along with loving him silently over the years. Being involved with the spider allowed him to meet Gwen Stacy, another spider with blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes. A girl who Miles seemed to fall head over heels in such an unbelievably short amount of time. Frequently fonding, talking, and making sketches about her.

“In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.” You wish the universe favoured you like how Miles’ parents clearly favoured you over Gwen the moment she displayed an ill mannered gesture by addressing them by their first names. But at the end of the day, you knew that Mrs. and Mr. Davis would eventually have to come to an acceptance. A nature every parent would have seeing their son being fond of a girl so dearly.

…

You woke up in a dark, cold room. With the flickering of the little light that illuminates the place and the incredibly tense atmosphere surrounding you, you recall the events that previously took place. You arrived back into your dimension. At least you thought you did, as something was incredibly wrong when you saw the figure of Uncle Aaron, well and alive. And something was certainly wrong when you saw the mural of the remembrance of Mr. Jefferson, and beside it was you. You were dead, apparently. The spider that bit Miles wasn’t from your dimension and when it scanned him, you two were sent where the spider was originally from. You didn’t go back home.

You studied the stone cold, dark room, the sense of familiarity creeped up. You recognized that this was Uncle Aaron’s place, where Miles would often go to hang out with his uncle, who he can be himself around with. Your eyes caught the sight of the figure who was tied up against the punching bag. “Miles!” you called, attempting to wake him up from unconsciousness. You were about to approach him when an arm grabbed you all of a sudden, yanking you back gently. Your eyes widened, it was someone in the familiar Prowler suit. However, the height and the figure of the man in the suit tells you that unlike in your dimension, this was not Uncle Aaron. “...Shh, mi querida.” (...Shh, my darling). Your blood turned cold, that voice… no no no. “Let me go!” You managed to let out, your heart beating at a fast rate as you hoped that what you were feeling was wrong. “I’m afraid, I cannot do that.” The alluring voice chuckled so softly. You repeatedly tried pulling back your arm from his grasp. You can’t stay here any longer as danger awaits for Mr. Jefferson and Mrs. Rio. You have to escape with Miles and save them. The hand covered in dark gloves moved towards your cheeks, caressing it. You tried to budge but that moved him to push you towards the table, trapping you in between his arms.

You came back to him and he won’t let you leave ever again.

“W… Who are you?” He adjusted the mask that is covering his face, revealing two long braids, and

“No!” … confirming your suspicion. “I’m Miles Morales. But you… you can call me the Prowler.” Your heart broke at the sight of this Miles. He seems rather solemn, than giving off a bright energy like the Miles you have. And the usual glint in his eyes that makes you melt is missing. They no longer shine. “Miles…” you trailed off. Oh how he missed you calling out his name so captivating. “Soy yo, hermosa.” (It’s me, beautiful.) He responded, eyes not leaving the sight of your beautiful, well built perfect body. You didn’t change, still being the [Name] he loved and believed that he would never stop loving. “Miles, you have to let us go.” You begged. “Why would I do that?” He tilted his head, “It is my job… as the Prowler.” Your eyes widened in epiphany, “There’s a world out there with no Spiderman to protect them because it bit you instead!”. “I am the Prowler because this world offers nothing but agony. It took my dad and it took you from me.” The crack in his voice while mentioning you made your heart drop. Like you and your Miles, he too, had his [Name] and they were also close-

Now you felt your heart being torn apart. The names… the endearing names he has called you!“Now that you’re back, I’ll make sure this time that you’ll never leave.” You turn to look at the burning desire painted deep in his eyes, staring at you. “Hey, bonita…” (Hey, pretty…) He moved his thumb over the corner of your lip, “You never seem to change, do you? … still looking just as pretty as you were the day you left.” His lips curled up into a smirk.

He said the words that would make your heart sing, If only he was the Miles from your world.

“...Please, you have to let us go. He’s needed before anything bad happens to his father.” You whispered weakly. Your heart, your voice, everything wanted to give up but you remained wanting to be strong for both you and Miles, who is not yet awake. Miles’ eyes narrowed while glancing at his other self, he couldn’t hide the envy he was feeling. He let out a hum, turning back to you. “The love you feel for him is deep within your heart. Although he doesn’t bear the same feelings as you do.” Your heart clenched at his words. “If he really did, I would’ve felt him break. The same way I did the day you were gone! But he didn’t feel anything nor spared your mural a glance, instead his gaze was focused on his father.” He knew you were about to break, seeing your glossy eyes. He’d never forgive the other Miles for being the reason for your tears. “Be with me, baby.” He leaned in.

There was the man of your dreams finally kissing you the way you’ve always been wishing to. Your feelings were finally reciprocated. But no, this isn’t the Miles that you grew loving with all your heart. Just another version of him. Warm tears threaten to fall as you grab the back of his head, tracing the pattern of his beautiful braid and the kiss deepens just a few seconds before you pull away. The boy may have the same features as the one you loved, but you remind yourself that he is not your Miles, a heart wrenching reminder that you have to endure as you stay longing for his feelings for you. Hopelessly wishing that your Miles have felt the same way about you as this Miles does.

Because of your strong connection with Miles Morales, you find yourself getting attached, no matter what versions of him. Your heart couldn’t turn away no matter what… Even at the fact that he committed a series of crimes, and is a threat to the city he was fated to be protecting, if it wasn’t for the spider biting your Miles instead of him.

You wanted to mend his broken heart, put the pieces back together. However, you noticed the pattern and it got you asking, “Why has the universe been cruel to you and him?” Both being the reason for each other’s wounded, bleeding hearts.

The tears finally escaped your eyes, He swore they were shining jewels under the moonlight.

“Miles, because of me you changed…” You weakly said, “can feel nothing but hatred in your heart. You’ve caused fear to the innocents!” You two weren’t aware of the previous twitching of the other Miles, tied up. He regained his consciousness, finding you being pinned down by a guy who looks just like him. Guilt consumed him whole as he felt the pit on his stomach watching the other version of him shower you with love and he was not afraid of expressing them at all.

“Why is loving you not fair?” Your voice quavered, exclaiming the words of your weeping heart. He’s come to realize that you’ve had the heart of gold that allowed you to love him unconditionally. But in return, you suffered. The cost of loving him is to suffer immeasurably that you were willing to pay every second.

He couldn’t stomach the way your voice drips with honey as you say his name, “Miles”, while referring to the other version of him.

Maybe his other self is the answer to his confused feelings. Why the memory of his parents gushing at him, telling him how much they would love you as their daughter-in-law is playing on the back of his head while Introducing Gwen to his parents.

…Why your voice, along with your promise of never leaving him, were playing over Gwen’s voice of pleas before snapping her webs off of him.

You don’t know what you’ve done to his heart when you had fearlessly stood up for him, letting him know that he will never be alone when every other spider went against him.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for spiderman. However…

Why [name]?

Why not Gwen?

Is what he finds himself asking all the time.

He sympathises with the broken version of him who lost his version of you. However, Miles could no longer stand the thought of losing you as well. He no longer wanted to waste the chance to be the man you deserve.

Miles wanted to be worthy of the love that is as pure as yours.

His eyes were focused on you two as he activated his electricity powers. Next thing, you felt what seemed like an explosion. As the other Miles gets knocked out from the sudden impact, your Miles swiftly wraps his arm around your waist as he uses his web to open the window and swings both of you out of the building. You look at him, he didn’t utter a word but he was quietly sobbing and swinging past every building at a fast rate.

You landed on a rooftop. You turned to Miles, who was still quiet. “Miles?” You called out to him. He returned your gaze with an equal pained look in his eyes. You were surprised when he suddenly grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly like you’d disappear.

Your eyes widened as he trembled, “I’m so sorry, [Name]. I truly am. I took you for granted... I’m in love with you, always have.” Your heartbeat quickens while hearing his words, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you because I didn’t know any better. For Invalidating my feelings because I was confused.” He took your hand, wrapping it with his own, “You were my first love, and everyday I’ll prove that you’re the only one.” You stared at his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and the fear of losing you. “Let me love you, baby. Please, love me again.” He trailed off, pressing your foreheads together. You brought your arms up to wrap them around his neck as you brought your bodies, pressing tightly against each other’s.

There you are, there you are… always there with open arms. Your pure love is what constantly reminds him why he fell for you.

“I never stopped loving you, Miles.” Both of your hands cupped his cheeks. He leaned in, pressing your lips together. He inserted his tongue inside, deepening the passionate kiss you two shared. He was afraid to let go.

In every universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman. But the universe planned [Name] [Last name] to captivate the heart of Miles Morales.

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