#seems to be the title the tumbls have started using

[murdrdocs]

just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨

end of line | h. brown

description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is

includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie

a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3

word count: 1.7k+

things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.

you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.

nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.

you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.

the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.

there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.

you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.

which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.

"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.

you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."

"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"

a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.

"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.

it always felt good to kiss hobie.

you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.

but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.

there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.

and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.

you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.

but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.

you need to be someone's.

the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.

so, you look elsewhere.

you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.

you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.

not until hobie got off stage.

it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.

he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.

"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"

his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.

“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.

“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.

the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.

“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.

hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.

instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.

hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.

“what’d you mean?”

you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.

“you just cockblocked me!”

a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”

“yes! of course i was!”

“but why? you are i are together.”

“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”

“yes we are.”

“no, we aren’t.”

“why do you think that?”

you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”

another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.

“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”

your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.

"thought you didn't like relationships?"

"labels. i don't like labels."

there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.

the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.

he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.

"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.

you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.

"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.

"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.

"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.

"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."

"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."

"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."

a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.

in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.

"he doesn't like consistency."

"don't like consistency, mate."

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #hobie brown fluff #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk #celeste writs mcu #hobiesworld! #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse

[mysicklove]

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA

With: Levi Ackerman

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love

A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE

Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.

That is, until he found someone to share his bed with. 

You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.

It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent. 

Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.

He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.

But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least. 

“Soooo, Hange recommended–”

“No.”

You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”

His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”

You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”

“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.

“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”

You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”

Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”

He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”

He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”

Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.

He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.

By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.

You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you. 

He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.

Levi was okay with it.

9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training. 

But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night. 

He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation. 

You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.

Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.

You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case. 

And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.

So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier. 

You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.

The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes. 

His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length. 

Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue. 

Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.

Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.

Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.

A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved. 

His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”

He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”

You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.

He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?” 

You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.

“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.

“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.

The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”

Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?

He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”

You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him. 

The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.

“Can you do something for me first?”

A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”

Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud. 

You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”

His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet. 

A throat. Not a hand. 

He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.

“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.

Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them. 

He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral. 

“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.

You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.

You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”

He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”

“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”

He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”

The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”

You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”

Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”

To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”

This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”

You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”

He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”

You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.

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#mello.writes #Barkforme! #Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #sub! levi #sub levi #sub levi ackerman #sub! levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x reader smut #aot smut #aot x reader #sub aot #sub! aot

[the-californicationist]

Hey 🫵🫶🏻! I love your John Price fics A LOT and I wanted to thank you for that<3 I wanted your opinion! How do you like Price's new skin?!

I'm just thinking about that!!! On a camouflage/infiltration mission and he fucks reader in this outfit!

Me right now looking at this photo:

Cold Shoulder

I wasn't sure how this one was gonna go, but I hope this is close to what you imagined! <3 <3 love this outfit. TW: fem reader, dub con?

"There you are," he growled, lowering his gun when he realized it was you.

You were holed up in a small alcove of a cave on the west side of the mountain. It was snowing, and you were doing your best to keep warm, but it was getting more difficult by the minute. And now, you had your angry captain yelling at you.

"You could've been killed, Sparrow. What the fuck were you thinking? This is a full klick away from the RV."

He closed in on you. Price was still fully geared up, and his snow hood shaded his eyes, making them all the more menacing. He was wearing his shining skull mask, but the sharp teeth below it were scarier than the gleaming bones.

Price grabbed you by the arms and pulled you up to face him,

"Answer me, soldier."

His eyes searched yours, looking for the truth. You swallowed your spit, thick and suffocating, trying to comply,

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know? You don't know how many men I fuckin' killed to get up here to find you. I thought..." His anger cracked like glass, sudden and violent, "I thought I lost you."

"What do you care... sir?"

The words tumbled out of you before you could catch them. It was hard to call him by his title when you were basically calling him out. But, you managed to tack it on to the end.

The problem was, you hadn't wanted to be saved by your captain. You had wanted to handle your ex-fil on your own. After all, it was he who had told you that you two should stop what you were doing. All the sneaking around and finding comfort in each other in the middle of the night. He had said it needed to stop. So, why was he so concerned about you now? You seethed,

"I could've gotten out of here on my own if you hadn't disconnected my sat-tab! I was closing in on their camp. Soap and his explosion blew my cover and I --"

"That explosion saved your bloody life, little bird. You jeopardized the mission, and you're not using your head. I know you're upset with me, but..."

"Upset? You told me you loved me, John!"

A cold, snowy silence stretched out between you. Even though he was so close to you, you could barely hear his heavy breaths. You could smell him. He was spice and tobacco and oak moss. His sweat and soap tangled with all of his other scents, reminding you of all of the times you had breathed him in.

Suddenly, striking like a viper, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and pulled you toward his face. You thought he would kiss you, but he didn't. He held you just close enough and said,

"Turn around, Corporal."

"What?" You were confused, but you were at his mercy.

Price turned you around himself, shoving you down on all fours in the stony floor of the cave. The rocks were wet beneath your hands. You heard the zipper of his pants, and you turned to look at him, shocked. He snarled, right in your ear, as he leaned over you,

"Won't listen. Gonna have to make you behave."

He started to pull down your pants, dragging them over your thick ass cheeks, revealing your pussy to him. He took off his glove with his teeth and began to play in you, telling you,

"Can't have you riskin' your life like that, little bird. I do love you. Can't seem to fuckin' help it. Tried to stay away. Can't. I can't."

Then, you felt it. His cock was at your warm entrance, pressing into you in that familiar way but at an unfamiliar pace.

Usually, he treated you like his soft little princess despite the fact that you were a seasoned soldier. He would eat you for hours, sometimes, making you dripping and pliant enough to take his heavy girth.

But, not now. Now, he was on a mission to make you remember how precious you really were. You needed to learn, and he was ready to teach you.

You screamed as he pressed your walls apart. It wasn't pain, but it was intense. He went slowly, but he didn't relent. As he began to pump himself in and out of your body, he lay his hand down hard across your ass, smacking you and letting the skin burn beneath his palm,

"Tha's it, birdie. Sing for me. Loud. Let me hear you."

Price's huge rod was fucking you so deep at this angle, and he wanted more. So, he pushed your shoulders down, forcing your chest into the snow. Your cheek hurt from the ice.

"So wet for me. Almost like you wanted me to find you," he teased.

What could you tell him? That he was right?

All you did to respond was pulse around him, gripping him hard inside of your body, making him stutter in his rhythm.

He let out a low growl and grabbed your ponytail in his hand, arching your back up towards him, barking commands at you,

"Say you're sorry! Tell me you're sorry for riskin' your fuckin' life up here on this goddamn mountain. Say it!"

"I'm sorry..." You managed.

"Sorry, what?" He bit down hard on your neck, marking you with his teeth.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"Good girl. See? You're so good. So good for me. Mmmf. Fuck!"

He pounded into you mercilessly, and his other hand began to play with your clit, smearing your wet juices all over your lower lips and skin, dragging it up over your mons and onto your belly.

"Fuck, you're so wet, Sparrow. I'm gonna come in you."

"Yes, sir."

"Fuck!"

You felt his hot come pool in your body, radiating through your skin, wet on wet on wet. Your ass cheeks stung, your body ached, and yet, you were so satisfied. You'd never seen Price get so worked up, but you wanted more. He had created a monster.

He fastened his pants and sat with you in his lap, breathing heavy in the darkness of his hood.

"Sparrow, I love you. I can't lose you. I won't. Don't do that to me."

"I love you, too, John."

You nuzzled against his neck, smelling his familiar scent, waiting for the next time you could misbehave.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain price x you #call of duty #x female reader #john price x female reader #captain john price x female reader #captain price x female reader #captain johnathan price #captain john price smut

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe.

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, Swearing. No use of Y/N. Any opinions on NHL teams expressed by my characters are not my own and describe fictional versions of these teams.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks for your patience through the rebrand! Enjoy the new chapter, she’s a dialogue-heavy one

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You don’t see Jake again until the next day. Three days in and you’re up to your eyeballs in paperwork that Beau dropped into your lap this morning. You’re starting to understand why they call him Cyclone, he blows in and right back out, leaving you in perpetual chaos. Admittedly he got it for doing that on the ice and he’s actually an extremely reasonable person, you just don’t particularly appreciate getting swamped when you’re already booked full with the physicals. There’s only one way to get both done and that’s how you find yourself in your office working through your lunch break, trying to ignore the angry protests of your stomach after being on your feet all morning working through the last of the second line guys. You half expect the knock at your door, absently calling out to invite the knocker in, expecting Zam coming to investigate your absence from the unofficial girls' table in the break room. That’s why the southern drawl catches you off guard and your head whips up so fast you almost tumble out of your chair.

“Hey, Bugs.” Jake Seresin is standing in the doorway, holding a white plastic bag and a steel water bottle. “You got a second?”

You most definitely do not have a second but your patients come first so you rush to rearrange the paper chaos on your desk to clear some space, waving a hand at the chair opposite inviting him to sit. “Sure Jake, what’s up?”

He sits, his large body dwarfing the office chair and you do your best not to stare, the lack of food in your stomach must be making you mildly delirious. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday about trust, and you’re asking me to trust you. And not your title, you’re asking me to trust you the person if that makes sense?” You nod slowly. “And I was thinking that to trust you as a person, I can’t really do the blind faith thing. I can do that with a title because the title has implications, like because you’re a doctor I know you have over a decade of school and studying to back that title up. But I don’t have anything to trust you as a person because I just met you two days ago. You’ve done your research on me, you said so yourself, so I think I need to do my research.”

“Is this you asking for my Instagram…?” He laughs at that and this time you have time to appreciate how beautiful and full the sound is.

“No Bugs,” he chuckles, placing the plastic bag and water bottle on your desk. “This is me asking you to have lunch with me.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, sure.” You do your best to quiet the part of your brain that’s spiraling to figure out when you’re going to be able to finish all this paperwork. It’ll have to wait, you’re finally getting somewhere with Jake. He opens the bag pulling out a wrapped package and a plastic container.

“I didn’t know if you were more of a cheeseburger or salad person so I just got both.” You almost melt into your seat at the gesture. Before you can say anything, however, your stomach beats your mouth and growls so loudly you want to sink through your chair and die. Your cheeks flush as Jake grins. “Sounds like you’re a both girl.” He places the cheeseburger on top of the salad container and slides the stack across your desk.

“Thank you, Jake, seriously.” You stammer as you grab the cheeseburger with shaking fingers, doing everything to not rip the wrapper to shreds and devour half of it in one bite. “And for the record, I’m a cheeseburger girl.” You give him a shy smile as you bite into it, groaning.

He chuckles as he takes out three more cheeseburgers and starts on one as well. “And here I thought bunnies liked carrots.”

“Actually rabbits don’t naturally eat carrots. They’re too high in sugar.” You say around the cheeseburger in your mouth.

“Noted.”

You swallow. “So what do you want to know about me?”

“I guess let’s start broad. What made you want to do this, working with athletes? You mentioned you watch hockey in your spare time?”

“Yeah, I grew up watching the Ducks with my dad.” You smile at the memory. “Hockey is our thing, one thing we can always talk about, do together.”

“I bet he lost his mind when he found out you’re working with three former Ducks.” He says with a grin. You laugh at that.

“Are you kidding? The man lost his damn mind. He always said he’d never go to an NHL game that wasn’t an Anaheim game but he’s already got tickets for our season opener. The man worships Maverick.”

“Are the Ducks your favorite team too?”

You hesitate at that. Before it was easy to keep yourself separate from Bugs, they were two circles that didn’t overlap but there’s nothing professional about eating lunch with one of your patients in your office. You’re finally making progress with Jake and while you hate lying to him, you’re not sure now is the time to mention that you’re a super fan. “I’m pretty sure I’m contractually obligated to say my favorite team is the Dogfighters.”

“Good point.” He chuckles. So you love hockey, but there’s plenty of ways to work with it without being a physician, so why that?”

“Well I’ve always felt connected to the players on a team, so naturally it always hurt a little to see them get injured, and as a viewer, I hated that there wasn’t something I could do about that. Turns out there was something I could do. I’ve always loved taking care of people but being able to apply it to something that means so much to me is kind of like the sweetest possible deal. I like to think I have a unique perspective with hockey athletes specifically since I grew up watching and playing the sport, I feel like I know them.”

“Wait a second, you play hockey?” His eyes are glowing with excitement.

“Played, past tense. Just for a little bit as a kid, until high school. I never really had the build and body for it, so I played as long as I could before it got to a serious level and I couldn’t make the teams anymore. My dad used to coach a kids league so that’s how I started.”

“What position?”

“Goalie and that’s the only reason I managed to make teams for as long as I did. The body was less of a requirement next to flexibility and agility.”

“Like Bob?”

“Yup, just like Bob, but look at him, he made it to the NHL. It’s nice to see, I think I would have fought harder to keep playing if I’d seen a goalie like him.” You give a rueful smile. “But if I’d kept playing, I never would have found my calling for sports medicine so it worked out in a way. This way I understand what it’s like to be a player so I can level with my patients better because I understand where their coming from.” He nods, turning this new information over in his head.

“Any siblings?”

“Two older brothers.”

“Did they play hockey too?”

You nod. “My oldest brother played through college but didn’t get drafted so he went to law school for sports law and now he’s the one signing players. My other brother plays for the Predators.”

“Damn Bugs, you’ve got an NHL player in the family? No wonder you’re so chill around us.”

“Idiot boys are idiot boys no matter how much they get paid. My brother may play for the Predators now but that’s the same kid who had to get his stomach pumped at age six for eating two whole tubes of play dough on a dare.” Jake chokes on his burger as he laughs.

“Are y’all close?”

You nod. “We all work in different facets of the same sport so it keeps us pretty tight-knit.”

“So who are you gonna be rooting for when we play the Predators in November?”

You make a face. “Are you kidding? The Predators can’t play for shit.” Jake barks out a laugh at the disgusted look you throw his way.

“And the Dogfighters?”

“That remains to be seen. I still haven’t seen their star centre at the top of his game so I can’t form an opinion about them quite yet.” You give him a soft smile, hoping that it comes across like gentle encouragement instead of a cruel dig. He sighs and sits back and you’re afraid you’ve crushed the delicate bubble you’d just created. “I didn’t mean it like that, Jake, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” You stumble over your words as you try to backtrack. Before Jake can respond, a knock sounds at your door and you call out for them to come in. Cyclone enters and you can’t help but wither a little at the sight.

“Cyclone, what can I do for you?” You give him a tight smile trying to ignore the way his eyes rove over the scene in front of him, Jake, the food, the pushed-aside paperwork.

“Bugs, I wanted to see if you’d finished up with the paperwork I dropped off this morning?” Finished? You’d be lucky if you were even halfway done. “I’m going to need those on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Sure thing, sir.” You chirp, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. You’re so completely, totally, fucked. Your afternoon is booked full with physicals, so you’ll have to stay late to finish the paperwork.

“Jake? What brings you here?”

“Just chatting, sir, getting better acquainted with the person responsible for my health for the foreseeable future.” Jake offers Cyclone a wide grin that’s pure charisma. He could charm the pants off a horse. Cyclone nods in response, turning back to you.

“Bugs, if you could come by my office when you’re done here I’d like to have a chat with you as well.” You feel your stomach sink. You know what this is about. Your mind falls back to the day of your interview and you grimace at exactly what Cyclone is insinuating.

“I’ll be right up, sir.” You miss the worried look that Jake gives you. His eyes scan the papers scattered on your desk as Cyclone leaves.

“Hey Bugs, did I interrupt your work?” He looks guilty.

“No! Well technically yes I was working on some paperwork but you’re my patient so you’re my work too, and either way, I was on my lunch break so legally speaking I wasn’t working either way. There was no way this was all getting done by the end of the day anyway.”

“But Cyclone just said-“

“It'll be done by the end of THE day, just not his day. I’ll just have to stay late to finish it up. I’ve got back-to-back physicals for the rest of the day after this. It's no big deal.”

He shakes his head, frowning. “That’s not fair, you shouldn’t have to do that. Doesn’t he know how busy you are?”

“You of all people should know life isn’t fair, Jake. We’re starting a team from the ground up, this may be the first late night, but I promise you it won’t be the last.” You start collecting your trash, already missing Jake’s company at the thought of your meeting with Cyclone. He’s deep in thought, still frowning. “Sorry to cut things short, but I do have to meet Cyclone before my next appointment.” Something pops into your mind that you’d meant to mention as Jake starts to clean up as well.

“Wait, Jake, I need to tell you something.” He looks up, and the seas in his eyes are calmer than you’ve ever seen them even as you see the question in them.

“What’s up, Bugs?”

“Bob knows.” He looks confused so you clarify. “About your leg…” you watch the walls slam back up in his eyes as he frowns, anger flooding into his face. “I didn’t tell him, I swear! He asked me about it yesterday during his physical. Apparently, he studied kinesiology in college and has been watching you and he noticed something was up.” You’re suddenly worried that you’ve made a terrible mistake in telling him but ultimately you thought it was the right decision.

“Fuck…” Jake runs an irritated hand through his hair and you watch the blonde strands stick up on his wake. “FUCK!” You jump at his raised voice and he turns to you at the movement. He must see the fear pass through your eyes because his shoulders slump and you see the same look mirrored in them. You come out from behind your desk, laying your hand on his absurdly large bicep.

“It’s okay, Jake. I know this is scary but you’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.” You add without thinking. He turns to look at you and you see the fear swirling in his eyes and it breaks your heart. “But your team deserves to know what’s going on, Jake. You owe that to them as a teammate and especially as their captain. You have to lead by example.” He nods silently.

“I know.” You’re not sure if you imagine the waver in his voice.

“I gotta go before Cyclone comes back down here looking for me, but you can take your time if you need some privacy.” You take a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake, straightening your shoulders before grabbing your white coat from the hook on the back of your door, giving Jake a little wave as you leave.

***

The walk up to Cyclone’s office feels like walking through wet cement, but when you get there, the door is open and he’s waiting at his desk, lips set in a grim line. You close the door behind you, taking a seat across from him when he invites you to.

“Bugs, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to have this conversation at all, let alone three days into the job.” He looks frustrated and you can’t blame him but you also know he’s misunderstanding what he saw. “When I hired you, you made me a promise.”

“I know sir, and I’ve kept it. My relationship with Jake Seresin, if you can even call it that, is strictly professional. As the captain of the team, he’s expressed interest in maintaining a good relationship with me so he wanted to meet to discuss how the physicals have been going and lunchtime is the only free time we both have, currently.” You hope the lie sounds as convincing as you need it to as you silently chastise yourself for putting your hand on Jake’s arm earlier. It was unnecessary and unprofessional. Anyone could have walked in and gotten the wrong idea. You need to stop touching him so much, but you can’t help it. He’s like a magnet, and you’re helpless to his pull.

He nods curtly but doesn’t look convinced. “And how are they going?”

“Everyone I’ve finished with is in perfect condition.” This time it’s not a lie. Technically Jake hasn’t had his physical yet.

“Good.” He sighs. “Bugs, we’re not going to have a problem here, are we? I took a chance hiring you, you know that. There are multiple accounts that contrast the story you told me. You’re outnumbered and I still chose to trust you, I hope I made the right decision.”

“You did, sir. There won’t be any problems.” At least not in this department. You can’t imagine how he’ll react when he finds out his star goalie is injured.

“I hope so because if we do, I can assure you that you’ll never work in the NHL again, let alone in the hockey world.” You swallow, hard, glad that your hands aren’t visible where they’re tightly fisted under the table to contain your anger. This shouldn’t be happening, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this, and yet you’re sitting here being scolded like a child for something that’s not even your fault, being threatened with losing everything you’ve worked so hard for, that you’re more than qualified to do.

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all Bugs, I expect to see that paperwork on my desk first thing tomorrow.” You do your best to leave without looking like you’re actively fleeing the scene, but as soon as his office door shuts you’re practically sprinting back to your office. With the endless pile of paper on your desk, every second counts.

***

You glance at the clock as you grab what’s finally the last piece of paper on your desk. It’s a little after eight and honestly, you’re doing a lot better than you expected. You silently thank Jake’s lunch interruption or else you’d be positively delirious from hunger at this point. Even now, you can feel the all-to-familiar gnawing that comes after a hard day’s work. You’re thankful to be sitting after standing for pretty much the whole afternoon. By the end of the week you should be done with all the physicals except Jake’s, ahead of schedule you might add. You can’t find it in you to be proud, though, as you try to focus your brain enough to read the letters swimming on the page in front of you. Letting out an exhausted groan, you lay your forehead down on the table, as a knock raps at your door.

“Sorry, I’m almost done here, it’ll be good to clean in like twenty minutes!” You call out to who you assume is the cleaning crew, anxious to finish their jobs and go home like you.

“Good to know.” A familiar voice answers as the door swings open to reveal Jake, holding a pizza box. He’s got a backward cap on his head and a gentle grin on his face as he takes a seat in his spot across from you, placing the box on the table and you can feel the heat coming off of it as your mouth starts to water. You’re sure you’re making heart eyes at it as he opens it and helps himself to a slice. “I figured you probably hadn’t had dinner since you seemed so used to skipping lunch.” You give him an embarrassed smile as you finally pull your eyes away from the pizza.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He waves you off with his free hand. “What’re you still doing here, anyway?” You turn back to the pizza, selecting a slice and barely stopping the moan from escaping your lips as you take a bite.

“You said you were staying late and I wasn’t sure how safe that was so I figured I’d hit the gym and get some extra reps. No leg stuff, don’t worry.” He says misinterpreting your wide-eyed expression.”

“You stayed here for me?”

“I mean you’re staying here for us, so yeah. Plus, I owed you after interrupting your work earlier.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know I’m almost done.” You wave your free hand at the paper in front of you. “Last one!” He lifts his fist in a silent cheer as he chews. You wipe your greasy hands on your scrubs and turn back to the paper, and suddenly the words are legible again. You skim the text before adding some notes and signatures where necessary. You work in a comfortable silence punctuated by the sound of Jake’s chewing. Finally, you set down your pen and sit back in your chair with a sigh.

“All done?”

“All done!” You turn back to the box to see two slices left.

“Those are all yours, Bugs. You earned ‘em.” You smile shyly at him as you dig in. “So, how’d the meeting with Cyclone go?” He looks slightly concerned and you wonder why.

You shrug as you swallow. “Fine, I guess. He wanted to know how the physicals were going. At least I’m ahead on those, they should be done by Friday, except for you, that is. You have until the end of next week.”

“About that…” Jake looks at you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I think I’m ready.”

You almost fall out of your chair for the second time today. “Jake that’s great news! Thank you so much!” You pause to swallow. “Wait did you mean right now, right now, or like just generally ready?”

He chuckles nervously. “Just generally. You can fit me in whenever, I’ll be there.”

“I can do it first thing tomorrow if you’d like? Get it over and done with so you don’t have to worry about it anymore?” He nods at that.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” His eyes are fixed at some invisible point on the desk.

“Hey, Jake?” He doesn’t raise his head.

“Yeah, Bugs?”

“No matter what happens tomorrow, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He nods, still not looking at you. “It’s okay to be scared, you know? You just can’t let the fear paralyze you, you have to move through it.” He lets out a shuddering breath and you wonder just how long he’s been holding it.

When he speaks again, you almost don’t recognize his voice. It’s gravelly and full of fear. “What if you can’t fix it?”

“Then I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable and we’ll move from there. There’s no scenario where things don’t change, I promise. I can’t promise how much I’ll be able to do until I’ve seen your leg.” He nods again.

“Everything changes tomorrow.”

“Everything’s already changed today.” You say with a small smile. “We had an actual conversation like sane human beings, we shared two meals, and you decided to trust me with your care. The hard part’s already over.” You watch his cheeks flex as he smiles too.

“Thanks, Bunny, I mean it.” You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he calls you that.

“Thank you, for trusting me.” The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you add. “Hey, Jake? You should talk to Javy. He loves you a lot and he’s really tearing himself up over this.”

He nods. “I know. We usually tell each other everything, I haven’t been fair to him.”

You stand. “I’m gonna run this paperwork upstairs if you want to grab your stuff to head out.” You stack the piles of paper in your arms, careful not to drop them, and Jake stands, holding open the door for you. You give him a smile of thanks before heading off to Cyclone’s office to drop them off.

***

You find Jake waiting with his stuff by the door to the parking garage. “Sorry, you didn’t need to wait!”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m walking you to your car.”

“What if I’m staying late in an attempt to get kidnapped so I can sue for the money I need for my loans?” You pout up at him.

“I’d say you’re better off trying that on a team with more money.” You laugh. The only cars left in the garage are yours and a silver Ford F-150 that you assume must be Jake’s. “I’d say nice ride, Bugs, but what happened to the front?” He squats down to examine the scratches on your front bumper. “Oh, I hit Maverick on his bike.” His head whips up to gape at you.

“You, WHAT?”

“Yeah, that’s actually how we met… He drove in front of me when I was pulling into a gas station. I was freaking out and told him I was a doctor so he’d let me check him out and then he offered me a job interview.”

“Damn Bunny, you’re a hustler.” You blush.

“He drove in front of me.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He stands back up. “I know a guy who could take a look at those scratches if you want?”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, they’re just scratches, it’s not worth the money, honestly.”

“I promise you, Mav can afford it. And remind me to never let you drive my truck.” You roll your eyes, unlocking your car and tossing your stuff into the passenger seat.

“Goodnight, Jake.” You say as you slide into the driver’s seat, rolling down the window so you can keep talking to him.

“Drive safe, Bugs.” He gives you a pointed look that says he means it.

You can’t help it, you stick your tongue out at him as you shift the car into reverse. Jake stays and waves you off until you can’t see him anymore. All in all, today was a success, you think as you pull out of the garage. Jake trusts you, except now you have a different problem. Can you trust yourself with Jake?

A/N: Jake trusts Bugs!!!! FINALLY! And finally FINALLY, you’ll all have your answers about Jake’s injury~ I love writing their dialogue, they’re so much fun to play with. Special shout-out to @sailor-aviator for being the one to come up with the Bugs Bunny nickname based on Jake’s joke in Chapter 2. I absolutely adore it and I love that there’s different facets of it for them to explore within their relationship. As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and happy reading!

#snitches get stitches // sdd #san diego dogfighters au #San Diego Dogfighters hockey AU #San Diego Dogfighters #tgm hockey au #top gun maverick hockey au #top gun maverick #tgm #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake seresin #Jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #Jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n

[duskyashe]

CAMP NANO DAY 12

[AO3]

============·^·^·^·============

Danny could have cried in relief. All of his hard work (and Jazz's pointed words with the more friendly of his rogues) had paid off—Danny could finally, finally take a nap. His homework was caught up, all his chores were done, his parents were off terrorizing yet another ghost hunters convention, and the only ghost he'd had to deal with the entire day had been a blob ghost making itself at home in the neighbor's trash can. With Jazz and his friends on deck for emergency ghost wrangling, Danny couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but relief as he buried himself under his blankets on his rarely used bed.

As the sixteen year old half ghost started drifting off, eagerly looking forward to catching up on his sleep, a familiar green glow appeared over his bed and a bone chilling gasp got stuck in the back of his throat, startling Danny awake. "No, no, no, come on!" Danny cried out in frustration. "Just one undisturbed afternoon nap, is that too much to ask?!" Half expecting Wulf to come tumbling out of the dimensional tear that was suspended above his bed, Danny changed forms and sat up against his headboard. If the Esperanto speaking ghost showed up, Danny wanted ready access to his ghost half's innate understanding of all languages spoken by the dead and the NeverBorn.

Instead of Wulf, however, the person who fell through the unstable portal and onto his bed was wearing an armored costume. A very familiar armored costume. What was Nightwing doing in his bedroom?!

The Gotham vigilante quickly rolled off his bed and landed in a crouch, visibly taking the situation in. It was something Danny, himself, had done many times over the past two years, and personal experience had him raising his hands and carefully holding them away from himself as a peaceful gesture. Even though Danny was hella confused, he let Nightwing dictate when the questioning began.

He wasn't even going to think about the kinds of questions his bedroom would raise or the deductions that one of the superhero community's greatest detectives would be able to make from this experience. That way led madness.

Apparently satisfied with his visual scan of Danny's room, Nightwing turned the majority of his attention to Danny and asked, "Who are you?" Overall, definitely one of the better questions to ask in this situation.

"I'm Phantom," Danny replied, then cringed at the remembered lecture from Pandora about titles and using them and amended his statement. "King Phantom, I guess."

Nightwing's attention narrowed in on him at that, feeling almost like a laser. "King Phantom? Ghost King Phantom?"

Danny scowled at that, suddenly understanding the gist of what had happened. "Let me guess, some hoity toity big wig fruitloop kidnapped and sacrificed you to the Ghost King, either for favor, power, immortality, or all of the above?"

His reaction seemed to have set Nightwing off balance somewhat, as the man hesitated slightly before responding much less hostilely. "Yessss? I mean, the Lazarus Pits have been growing less and less potent over the last two years, and Ra's seems to be getting more than a little desperate. Apparently he did the same ritual once before, about four hundred years ago, and ended up with the Lazarus Pits. The same Pits that are losing potency at a frankly astonishing rate."

"Of course," Danny mumbled with a curse and a facepalm. "Here's the problem. Two years ago, there was a different Ghost King. He was very much not a good dude, very power hungry and very evil. He probably received that sacrifice four hundred years ago and decided it was a good investment, and so created those Lazarus Pits as a show of favor. They probably granted inhuman power and the ability to cheat death, right?" At Nightwing's nod, Danny continued. "Yeah, see, there's no real way to cheat death, not like that. Death comes for everyone eventually, you can just prolong the inevitable. Ever since I defeated the previous King in ritualistic single combat, all favors, spells, and curses put in place by the former King have been dissolving without the power of the throne behind them. Unless the new King, me, reinforces those favors, spells, and curses, they will eventually wither into nothing." Danny saw Nightwing start to pale and hurried to reassure him. "Luckily for you, I have no intention of doing that. You'd become my thrall and effectively die right here and now if I did. I really don't want to do that, you're one of my favorite heroes ever, so instead what I'm going to do is basically quicken the process of those Lazarus Pits drying up. Anyone willing to sacrifice one of the heroes of the world for a little bit of power and prolong their death will never find favor from me," Danny declared, feeling his eyes flash silver as his Royal Decree was written in the very fabric of the universe. "Now! How about we get you back to where you belong!"

============·^·^·^·============

So sorry for missing yesterday, my boyfriend flew in from out of state, so I had to go pick him up from the airport, which was almost three hours one way, and I ended up with hardly any time to write. I also forgot to write for a good portion of today, so this was a bit rushed and not at all what I was originally planning on writing (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ but hey! Another prompt from the Batpham server has been written and published! (⁠ノ⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠)⁠ノ

I'm trying to finish Cryptid Crash Course chapter 3 for y'all, but I can't quite get the opening to work the way I want it to, so I'm letting it sit and marinate in the back of my head (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）don't worry, I'm planning on finishing the entirety of Cryptid Crash Course this month! I just don't know when that'll actually be ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠⊙⁠_⁠ʖ⁠⊙⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Once again, if anyone wants to add on to this, please feel free! I fully intend for this to be the only time I touch on this world, so it's free game, y'all (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ have at it!

Have a good morning/day/night wherever you are!

#danny phantom #batman #dp crossover #dpxdc #fanfiction #danny fenton #dick grayson #nightwing #ghost king danny #ra's al ghul #well #the dude is mentioned #but that's it #poor danny #can't catch a break #or some z's #camp nanowrimo 2023 #camp nano 2023 day 12

[skepsiss]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #mini ask fics

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter 7.2: Lando's First Time

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: Title feels explanatory enough

Warnings: talks of sex, Dom/Sub dynamics, no actual sex occurs, this is a crack fic, lots of communication, talks of kinks

Notes: the start of Lando and his chaos

Masterlist

When Lando woke up this morning, he didn't think that he'd be spending breakfeast talking with Max about Sex.

His cereal had gone soggy. The shock of it all making it difficult to eat.

The worst part was that this seemed so easy for him. Sure, he'd taught the female about most sexual things she knows now, and he'd been through this with Charles. But this was completely new to Lando, and he didn't like that it was so... casual.

"-Again, I know this is probably a lot and of you don't want to-."

"I want to." The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he could think about them. He could actively feel the blush on his cheeks growing.

"Okay then." Max smiles. "Let me go grab something, and you should probably get new cereal."

Lando decided it would be better to just wait until after this talk.

~

Max came back into the room with a notebook, a green colored pen, and Charles. "I was going to give you orange, but it doesn't show up well enough for me to read."

"Is y/n still asleep?"

"No, she's eating and cuddling with the cats. These conversations tend to... not embarrass her, but it definitely puts her in a place I don't want her in."

The two join him on the couch. Lando just looks at them with pure confusion. Lost in what Max is attempting to tell him.

Thankfully, Charles explains. "She's a pleaser and is still learning how to set boundaries. She will say yes to everything even if she doesn't want to."

"Why on earth would she do that?" Lando grimaces at his words. That sounded meaner than he was intending. The older boys exchange a look, and Max shrugs his shoulders.

"Well mate, as you will come to find out, the overwhelming urge to be praised makes it difficult for her to say no." Charles finishes woth a wink.

Lando's mouth falls open in an 'O' shape. Suddenly, everything clicked.

They'd gotten themselves into a sexually charged situation. It could and, probably would, have gone further if Max hadn't stopped them.

He'd dragged Lando out and sat him down for a talk. It was at this point that Lando agreed to add his blood panel to their ever expanding collection of them. Lando also learned at this point that Max is in charge and he quite likes the Dutch telling him what to do.

He'd also had to trade places with Charles because the girl in the room where he'd been dragged from was crying. Charles didn't tell Lando why as he sat in what used to be Max's chair. Just that she was feeling insecure after watching Max pull Lando off of her.

He'd also taken the time to explain that he didn't do anything wrong. Max is just fiercely protective and knows she will push her limits.

Now he's sitting between Max in Charles with a green pen in hand, looking at a list.

The notebook was filled with different things regarding their sex life. Again, Lando could see his blood work had been added to the list at the front along with the other two.

"No blood work for her?"

"I'd be surprised if it came back normal. Also, I took her virginity, and Charles is the only other persona she's had besides that."

Lando wasn't shocked, but hearing it aloud was still a little surprising. "Did she like... do other things?"

"I'm promise I'm not lying when I tell you she'd never been touched there before. At least that she remembers."

It's Charles turn to look at Max with confusion. "What? She said she'd never touched, non?"

Max sighs with a heavy sadness. "Her dreams and how her body reacts... I think there may have been things that happened that she didn't remember or was unconscious for."

"She did say she was drugged and unconscious a lot." Charles considers.

Lando didn't know what to think. His brain couldn't function, and the older boys beside him were incredibly normal about this. He was beginning to feel the insecurity creep up his throat.

"That's a discussion for another time, though." Max smiles at Lando again and snage the journal back from him. "Don't laugh, but this is how we keep track of things." Max turned the page to a list of names with various information beneath. "Mind if I ask a few questions?"

"Uh- no. It's a little odd that you think I would say no now that we're already here."

"Fair." Max simply shrugs again. Lando is grateful Charles is here. He loves Max, but sometimes he explains things in a way that makes his brain do cartwheels. He's also grateful because Charles lets him play with his rings. "Remember, there is no judgment. We have to be honest to make this work."

"What if I say something weird?"

"I said my first experience with a guy was at a sex party. If you can top that, I'd be impressed." Charles chuckles a little. He thinks fondly of that memory now, but at the time, he'd been miserable.

"First question: dom or sub? Or neither."

Lando blinks at him. "Bottom?"

"Not what I asked."

Lando inhales through his teeth. "Sub." His eyes immediately find the floor. Not for long, though. Max grabs his chin and gently brings his gaze back to his.

"Need to see your eyes. You've got nothing to be ashamed of." The gentle voice Max uses throws his head into a tizzy.

"Again, Lan, if it makes you feel any better, I've been the dom in most my previous relationships, and then Max had me screaming daddy for the neighbors to hear."

"Don't be fooled, though. Charlie still knows how to take control when I let him." Max winks, and Landos feels as if he's gotten in the middle of something.

"Next question: have you used the stop light safe words?"

Lando just shakes his head. "Isn't that universal?"

"Yes, which makes it easy to use and remember."

"We have a list of hard pass kinks. I'll let you look at it, and you can add any to the list." Max flips the page again and hands the book to Lando. He reads through it and ponders for a moment. The things they have written are anything super harmful or just unsanitary. A few others scattered in between that have their own categories. He hands the book to Max when he feels satisfied.

"Great! Now the fun part." Max wiggles his eyebrows, and Charles wheezes because of how comical it looks.

"Mon amour, please- your going to scare him!"

"Rude. But anyway." Max flips again to the page they were on previously. "Okay, a couple of things to go over and some rules. Do you like being praised or degraded?"

"...Both." Lando tries to move back to looking at the floor, but Max catches him and tuts. He moves his gaze once again, and Lando is forced to look at the memorizing blue.

"Any positions you either don't like or haven't tried?"

For fucks sake. He sounds like such a slut right now. Is it bad that he likes this? "Pretty sure I've tried everything, but I'm always open to new things anyway." This time, he doesn't look away.

Charles leans back a little amused. Watching the two go back and forth in discussion. The obvious hard-on that Lando has dragging his attention away. The Brit can see him staring. He finds it somewhat like a compliment.

"Rules time."

"I struggle to remember, so please be patient."

"No worries, Lan. That's what the book is for." Now Max actually closes the book. All of Lando's information has been jot down. All of his kinks are now documented.

"So for Charles, he is a switch. But like... a dom leaning switch, if that makes sense." Lando shakes his head, and Max hums in approval. "Obviously, I'm in charge, and I like it that way." Max winks horribly at him, and Lando can't help but chuckle at his attempt to keep him comfortable. "She is a sub. She will slip into a subspace within five minutes of any sexual scenario. It's a given. That's why we have to be a little cautious."

Lando cocks his head to the side. His questioning eyes find the Monegasque again. "There are times her mind puts her there because she thinks we're upset with her, and it's how she can fix it even if she didn't do anything. If she's on her knees, it's usually a tell tale sign. Her father used to put her there when he wasn't happy with her. Basically, if she's on her knees, then don't go any further. It's not her consenting, it's her mind telling her she needs to fix things and we don't want to take advantage of that."

Lando's heart hurts at the statement. It's terrible that she ever had to do that. He nods in understanding and appreciation of charles' explanation.

"On that not also, because she can go crazy far into sub space, she can drop hard. One minute, we're starting aftercare, and the next, she can't fathom being in her own skin. Like she did something wrong or wasn't enough or going as far as to hate that she went there in the first place."

"Lan, please be honest. Do you get deep in the headspace and drop?" Charles' voice is so nice that he almost whimpers at it.

"Yes, but I also do other things." Max and Charles eye each other for a moment. It would make sense why, they just listed all his kinks. "I find it fun not to do as told and rile people up."

Max looks at him with something mischievous. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun."

Charles leans in to Lando. His breath hot on his ear. "I tried it once. Never again. This is the time I cried daddy for the entire building to hear."

Lando looks directly at Max. "I like a challenge."

Max is breathing heavier now. Lando is now joined in his predicament.

"I think we should give him something to help his little issue. Don't you think cher?" The hot breath and low voice of the Monegasque does nothing to help him.

~

Charles had been sitting on the bed with her. She was lost in the sound of his voice telling her everything about Lando. What he likes, what he doesn't, the important things.

She's already fading, and she knows it. It's not just because of the soothing voice of a certain Monegasque, but also because she can clearly hear Lando whimpering.

Charles runs his fingers along her body. "Are you feeling fuzzy already?" She nods and curls up into him. "We don't have to join. I can take care of you here if you think joining them will be too much."

She shakes her head no and quickly stands from the bed to emphasize her point.

They completely disregard the fact that she's in nothing but one of Max's oversized hoodies. It's all just going to come off again regardless, and she completely trusts Lando anyway.

The sight on the couch is nothing that she was expecting. Why does Max have Lando over his knee already?

"I brought someone to join." Charles strokes her cheek, and she leans into the soothing touch. Any touch right now feels like heaven in her eyes.

Max manhandles Lando off of him and into a kneeling position. This is also new. They never let her stay on her knees.

Max gets off the couch and pointedly looks at Lando. "Stay put."

Max caresses the other side of her face when he reaches her. "Things are going to be different again because Lando is here now. Do you understand?"

She'd already learned that when Charles came along. But he is similar to Max in a way. Lando is very new. "Yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes, sir."

Her words make Max smile. But it goes away as soon as he turns around and sees Lando sitting on the floor instead of kneeling. "Technically speaking, I stayed put!"

She looks to Charles for some sort of explanation. "Lando likes to misbehave."

Misbehave? That's an option? She'd always done as told without questions. Though she'd gotten punished before. It's not in the sex part. It's with the life part.

Max had started it after her unhealthy habits started getting worse. It helped her to break them. Even if they cone through because she gets in her head, Max and Charles have been there to pull her back with their bedroom tactics. The way the two tag team is terrifying sometimes.

Charles guides her to the sofa and Max is quickly back to manhandling Lando. The Brit is smiling like an idiot and she thinks for a moment that this will be interesting to watch.

She leans into Charles as they sit down. “why does he like it? I thought that misbehaving is a bad thing?”

“To you, yes. You like it when we tell you you’re doing a good job.” Charles points to where Max is teasing Lando. The Brits body being pinned exactly where Max wants him. “He likes making people lose patience and then people calling him, uh, degrading things.”

“Like the words we use only in scenes?” Charles hums a confirmation. the vibration tickling her skin.

"I'm shocked we haven't corrupted you you yet chéri. You're still so parfaite, so innocent." His voice sends a shudder down her spine. His finger still brushing the spots along her body that make her mind spin.

Their moment is interrupted by Lando, again, being tossed onto the couch. Effectively startling the two out of their moment.

“Max, amour, must you throw him around?”

“Better work out then just lifting in my opinion.” Max shrugs and laughs.

Lando readjusts himself, throwing his legs over the other two. “I think this I gonna be fun.” He smirks.

~

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @be-your-coffee-pot @copper-boom

#x reader #fanficion #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #angst #max verstappen #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x y/n #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris f1 #mclaren formula 1 #redbull racing #ferrari #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x charles leclerc #lestappen #lando norris #scuderia ferrari #redbull #redbull f1

[dorims]

make you fix me [ sneak peak ]

gif creds @/endiness

roman roy x therapist!reader

wc. ~550

genre. fluff, angst,

spiraling into a more than confusing dynamic, roman roy's relationships have always disrupted the balance between professionalism and an HR complaint. It wasn't his fault his authentic-roy-ways didn't follow the 'being a decent human being' guidebook. People fell in love with their therapists all the time anyway, and being a nepo-baby billionaire didn't save him of that fate.

tags. WORKING TITLE, NO BETA AS OF RN, prone to grammar mistakes !! the story is set some time after s4 as of rn, gif is not representative of the timeline this takes place in, allusions to abuse, being dismissive of therapy, roman uses the word looney as an insult once, tags will be added as the story progresses, these are mainly for the text below the cut

a/n. this is a little sneak peak of one my wips! the full document has 3.5k words ish but im aiming for at least 7k, maybe a little more. if anyone wants to join the tag list for this fic please send me an ask off anon or with your url

“Are you writing that down?” He frowned, “why are you writing that down? I literally just said I wasn’t.”

Yet again, another bold demonstration of your therapeutic ineptitude. You dared to look up at him for a couple of seconds too long, scanning him over until his eyes widened in confusion while he jostled his hands in the air, preparing to retaliate. But just when he started stringing words together, you decided to start what seemed like a new sentence.

“What are you even writing?!” He wanted to tear all his hair from the roots. “I haven't said anything!”

“Well, you have.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Groaning in protest, he scooted closer to the edge of the couch, almost like he wanted to stand up. “I said nothing that means anything.”

“Then,” you clicked your pen, and his gaze immediately zeroed in on your fingers toying with the shiny metal. He gulped, knowingly so, like waiting for the stationary to stab him in the neck. But nothing had happened, and instead, he missed the way you [had noticed] “There’s nothing you should worry about.”

His shoulders dropped with the heavy weight of being scrutinized. One would have thought he would’ve been used to it by now. But from experience, he had learned that the everlasting bitterness of getting examined under a microscope would always linger. No matter what he tried, the only way of coping with it was to wait for it to pass with his tail between his legs. 

“Can you just like stop? Writing?” With his elbows resting on his knees and his face burrowed against the nook of his hands, his voice came out pityingly muffled, much like the hint of the child he had been tasked to cast aside way too soon.

 “Why?”

“Because, it’s, fuckin’ weird?” He forced himself to stare straight at the spot right between his Oxfords, shaking his head in disbelief as he attempted a laugh. “I’m not paying you to scribble on your looney book.”

You had hummed once more, and he had wanted to tell you to stop. With his gaze still zeroed on the floor, he failed to notice how the plain Moleskin had been pushed to the side, neatly closed in a genuine display of concern. Or as genuine as a therapist would allow themselves to be during their first session. 

“Then what are you paying me for?”

“To like, you know,” he shrugged in disbelief. “Ask me to draw a stick figure under the rain and tell me how to fix this.”

“Fix this?”

“Yeah, this.” The words had left his tongue sitting, heavy in his mouth, and the rest that wanted to tumble out felt foreign in size and shape, though similar in weight to that of shame. The same one that had seeped from between his teeth and gums and skin countless times when the inconceivable consequences of his actions caught up to him growing up. Shame so thick it would put blood to shame, though they sure shared the same taste. And it had always been easier to spit it out in private, drown the aftertaste with fierce scrubbing and hide the searing imprints on his cheeks underneath the covers. But the walls surrounding him were no longer the ones in his childhood bedroom, and you were still waiting on an answer. “Fix, I don’t know…me?”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy fluff #roman roy #succession fanfiction #succession #roman roy imagine #succession imagine

[lemony-and-zesty]

Omg not another drabble for hitman!JD :]

This one’s for you especially @elijah-doodle ;)) Since you wanted to know and all :)

Silly side note cause I thought it was funny but this is titled “The one that got away” in my drafts 😭😭

———————

The small apartment John Dory found himself living in was pretty peaceful, all things considered. Especially this early in the morning. JD was fast asleep in that slab of concrete he called a bed, finally having managed to pass out a couple hours ago.

There was a sudden, loud knock on the door.

“Hey! Git up! Boss wants ta see ya.”

John Dory groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“C’mon kid, he ain’t gonna wait long.”

He crawled out of bed, rubbing a hand down his face before huffing out an, “Alright, alright. Gimme a minute.”

The voice at the door seemed appeased at this, and JD could hear his footsteps fading.

Stupid.

He took his time getting ready, it really was too early for this.

After sliding on his coat and goggles, he yanked the door open. He wasn’t surprised to see the other troll hadn’t gone far.

He gave JD a sharp nod, “Good. C’mon kid.”

JD held his tongue at that.

He let the other man lead him, despite knowing the way like the back of his hand. Best not to start a fight over something stupid.

They left the apartment building off into a back alley.

JD shoved his hands into his pockets and let his mind stray for a bit. As per usual, he found himself thinking about his brothers. He can’t help but wonder what they’d be up to now. Shit, how old would they be again?

He starts trying to add it up in his head, counting it out with his fingers.

It’s been, what? 10, no 15 years? Maybe? He couldn’t be sure until he got a glimpse at a calendar.

His mind continued to wander for a bit before he’s suddenly jolted out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

Reacting quickly, he spins around and sweeps the assailant’s legs. They tumble to the ground with a, “Aw SHIT-“

JD unsheathes the spikes on his glove’s knuckle, preparing to strike the person before coming to a dead stop.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“-HELL kid, the fck’r ya doin!”

JD stumbles back, his hands going to his coat. He brushes at it, not just trying to play it off but also to soothe his shaking hands, “Sorry. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

The man who’d been walking him glared up at him - partly out of shock, partly out of fury. After a moment he shakes his head, “Whatever kid.”

JD snarls at that, “For the love of- Stop. calling. me-“

The door behind JD slams open, “Ah! Johnny! You’re right on time.”

A stocky pale yellow troll with golden, slicked back hair dressed in a gray pinstripe suit sets his hands on JD’s shoulders turning him around and lightly shoving him into the room he’d just burst out of, “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

He kicks the door shut behind them, not sparing the man another glance.

He leads JD to his desk, his grip tightening on his shoulders before releasing him altogether.

“B-Boss I can explain-“

He holds a hand up to silence him as he rounds the desk and takes a seat, “No need. It’s not my business what you get up to outside of work. As long as you don’t kill any of my employees, I couldn’t care less.”

JD gulps, once again rubbing his hands against his coat.

“Now, what is my business is, well, my business. So,” He reaches into a drawer, pulling out a slip of paper - his next hit, JD assumes - and sliding it across the desk for him to look at, “Let’s talk business.”

John Dory freezes the instant his eyes see the paper. No, not paper. The poster. It was a poster for a concert for an up and coming solo artist.

No. No no no no no.

Staring back up at him were the eyes of a troll he hadn’t seen in 15 or so years.

No. Anything but this. Please.

Staring up at him was none other than Floyd. His baby brother.

#zesty posts #hitman!john dory #john dory #trolls band together #trolls oc

[pinkpastelcalesti]

LANDSCAPING LOVE || Bakugou Katsuki x Reader || Chapter I.

SUMMARY -> Tired of bouncing back and forth between the U.S. and Japan after graduating college, you’ve finally secured the career of your dreams: You’re Japan’s first heroics cartographer, a title bestowed upon you due to your quirk and specialty, that creates geographic maps for hero agencies across the country. While your work is highly respected and sought after, you’re known for a more niche reason among your coworkers at the Dynamight Agency: the food you make is fucking amazing. When Dynamight himself inevitably gets word that you’re coming for his cooking title on his own turf, chaos ensues and you find yourself competing against your boss for not only best chef, but also to win over his heart.

CONTENT/WARNINGS -> Pro hero AU, agency reader, reader with a quirk, fem/AFAB reader, reader is originally from America, reader is bilingual (English and Japanese), strangers (more like coworkers that don’t get a chance to speak much) to friends to lovers, fluff & chaos, minimal angst, suggestive humor.

LENGTH -> 7.9K

MASTERLIST

Running late for your first agency project presentation was not on your bingo card this year.

Because of nerves and the constant fear that you were going to tumble over your words during your presentation, you pulled a semi-all nighter and stayed up until 3 a.m. rehearsing your slides and your speech for the Dynamight Agency’s meeting on your current geographic project.

You’ve been working for the company for 7 months now, and this project is the first large-scale assignment you’d been given since you started. You’ve worked on smaller, personal projects for Dynamight and other pro heroes, but this project was your pride and joy, seeing as it was requested by Dynamight himself.

Your quirk, landscape, allows for you to create an entire mental map, in very graphic detail, of the area around you within five miles. This includes the visualization and relative scale of buildings, sidewalks, roads, and alleyways. Your quirk works when you place your bare hands on the ground, which sort of sucks because the city’s grounds weren’t exactly the cleanest. In order for you to utilize your quirk correctly, you grew up practicing cartography of all sorts. One could say your quirk opened up doors to many different career paths, such as engineering or urban planning, but you had decided early on that the best way you would be able to help people is by utilizing your maps for heroes.

Heroes use maps for everything, and you were going to profit off of that no matter what. Your quirk could expand past the five mile radius if you kept bouncing around to different areas, drew their maps from your memory, and combined all maps to create one whole map of a specific city or town. During your time in undergrad, you majored in and graduated (Summa cum laude, may you add) with a degree in geography, your main focus of research being urban cartography. Heroics cartography didn’t exist, so you figured the next best thing would be urban areas.

Your undergraduate research consisted of said urban cartography, and because of your academic standing, you were offered a study-abroad program for geographers that was located in Tokyo, which you took without a second’s hesitation. You always dreamed that you’d be helping U.S. heroes, however, during your time in Tokyo, you fell in love with the entirety of Japan and the vast landscapes you got to visit and draw. Your research professor oversaw your projects, which consisted of city maps, data collection, and utilizing GIS software to create digital maps that could be used for multiple different areas, whether that be infrastructure planning, evacuation routes, or heroics, your main focus.

Your current job as a heroics cartographer is a first in Japan. While it’s not that well-known that you’re the first person to ever have such a title, the pro heroes around you seem to understand its importance. Your job at Dynamight’s Agency allows you to create maps for Dynamight and his sidekicks to use for patrol routes, monitoring high crime areas across the city, and visualizing the areas where property damage occurs most. Not only do you work for Dynamight, but your skills have been requested and used by other pros across the city, including but not limited to Deku, Shouto, and Red Riot.

You really got into this career out of sheer luck and fate. While you were drawing up maps for the city during your third year of undergrad, pro hero Red Riot had reached out to you after he accidentally destroyed one of your maps at the post office in Musutafu during a fight with a villain. He’d picked up the broken display and noticed your name in the corner and contacted you through your professor. Initially pissed off because you’d just finished that map literally a week and a half prior to its destruction, you gave him grace and told him you’d be in touch with the post office to create a new one.

He ended up paying you back for the damage, and upon realizing how detailed your maps were, inquired about your skills in cartography. It was quite jarring, sitting in Red Riot’s agency at the ripe age of 20, sweat dripping down your back through your blouse as one of the top heroes in the nation asked if you’d be able to draw up a map of a large electrical facility for him to use for an upcoming mission. He’d apparently been trying to find an up-to-date map of the interior, but had no luck. Within a week, you were being driven in a fancy company car to the facility so you could use your quirk and recreate the building’s interior infrastructure.

After you’d created the map for him, Red Riot, or Eijiro, as you now get to call him, had asked that you look into working for the pros after you graduated. He was under the impression that you were actually a Japanese university student, so you had to break the news that you actually worked in the U.S. Upon realizing, Eijiro explained that he would be more than happy to get you in contact with plenty of heroes that could use your work and give you a job abroad for almost double the pay you’d be receiving if you stayed in America.

Turns out that keeping in contact with a top hero in Japan that destroyed weeks of your work within 3 minutes of a fight was a good idea after all. Eijiro was the one who ultimately hooked you up with a job under the roof of Dynamight’s agency. Once you’d graduated, you decided that you’d work in the U.S. for a little while longer to build up your experience and resume before you decided to go abroad.

You ended up staying in America for two more years after graduation, traveling across the country and working with urban geographers in cities like Los Angeles, Detroit, Chicago, New York City, and Washington D.C. During this time, you were given full travel privileges to fly to Japan and help Red Riot and his pro hero allies develop brand new patrol map routes across different cities. You loved this part of your job most, and after finishing up your second year post-grad, decided to make it official and asked Eijiro if the job position was still on the table.

He would go on to give you one of the prettiest smiles you’d ever seen and excitedly tell you that yes, it was always available to you. Being friends with Eijiro meant not only a once-in-a-lifetime career connection, but it also meant realizing your potential early on.

You absolutely adore the work you do for Dynamight and his peers and wouldn’t trade it for the world. However, if you don’t hurry the hell up and get to your building in the next 7 minutes, your dream job might as well go poof. Dynamight absolutely hates when people are late, and you’ve had the pleasure of watching him blow up on company execs for showing up 15 minutes late and “wasting his fuckin’ time.”

Working for a man like Bakugou Katsuki was definitely a wakeup call the first two months you were at his agency. Turns out that while he approved your position that would inevitably change the way cartography was viewed in the modern world of heroes, Bakugou didn’t exactly care to look into what you specialized in, or so you thought. You really hadn’t had a chance to actually speak with him aside from filling him and his manager in on upcoming projects and maps you were in the process of making. After 7 months of working for the agency, you’d spoken to your boss a whopping four times, all lasting under three minutes.

This presentation you were about to give is the first one where Dynamight would be present, and fuck if you weren’t about to shit your pants from not only nerves, but fear that you might not get in the door on time for its start.

Racing past the front desk and haphazardly greeting the security guards before flashing your badge to be let through the agency gates blocking visitors from reaching the elevators, you managed to press the button for the remaining elevator on the ground floor that was being sent up.

You probably looked like an absolute atrocity in front of your fellow coworkers, with windswept hair and panting in the virtually silent elevator, save for the whirring of the machine as it took you up to the fourteenth floor of the building.

As soon as the doors of the elevator opened, you booked it down the hall to the meeting room, with 43 seconds to spare before the clock hit 9 a.m. sharp. “So sorry I’m running late! I was supposed to be here setting up earlier but some big stupid bitch tried hijacking the bus I was going to take-” you began in a rush, placing your bag and coat on your chair in the large room with a round table full of your team members and other coworkers from the analytics department.

Your team member Carl, one of only three others in the cartography department at the agency, hit your foot from under the table while calling out your name. “You’re speaking in English, we have no clue what you’re saying,” he whispered, with you quickly muttering out an apology. “Shit— sorry about that— slips my mind to switch back and forth sometimes. Apologies for not being here sooner,” you bowed to the ten workers in the room, suddenly realizing Dynamight himself nor his manager had shown up yet. Thank god, you let out a small breath of relief.

“Is Dynamight going to be in soon or should I begin without him?” You asked as your other team member Kanako grabbed your computer out of your bag and plugged it into the projector while you began pulling out your speaker notes.

“Said he’d be in soon, had to catch up with Red Riot about an ongoing police chase outside the city,” your last team member Naomi spoke out loud. Naomi was your resident work bff, and was also the one that regularly reached out to Dynamight for you to inquire about starting new projects or letting him know of recent updates. She honestly didn’t even like having to email her own boss that much, but she was more than happy to run into his manager and talk about the highs and lows of cartography if it meant staring at the poor man like he was on the lunch menu.

“Well that at least gives us some time to set it up. Sorry you all had to wait on me to get here to pull up the slides.” You felt guilty that your team had to sit in awkward silence with a department that rarely ever interacted with your own for probably a solid 20 minutes, but at least you got to the room before Dynamight so you didn’t risk a verbal ass beating in front of everyone.

As soon as you’d finished laying out the hand-drawn maps of your project out on the round table, Dynamight himself opened the large oak door and walked into the meeting room, glancing at you for a split second before sitting in the chair that was opposite of you, towards the back of the room and for him to be able to see everyone clearly. His manager trailed in behind him, scolding him for not slowing down and hearing his run down of how the meeting would go. Dynamight only waved his hand in the air at his manager before casting his sharp gaze back to you.

You felt a twinge of anxiety race up your body. You really hadn’t been expecting him to come to this meeting until Naomi filled you in two weeks ago that he wanted to attend. Guess it meant he actually did pay attention to what he hired you and your team for. Regardless, you bowed to him and began speaking, not waiting for him to tell you to start, as he wasn’t one that gave directions to grown adults.

“Thank you for joining us today, Dynamight. The project that my team and I have been working on recently is one you formally requested for us to start three months ago,” you clicked the presentation remote that flipped to the next screen on your slideshow. “As you requested, the cartography department created digital and physical choropleth maps of the districts within Musutafu and their relative crime rates within the past year.” You pointed towards the round desk. “The top map is the same as the map you see on our slideshow,” you spoke in a quick, easy-to-understand manner and glanced at everyone’s faces to gauge their reactions throughout your presentation speech.

The maps that Dynamight had asked for were so that he would be able to see if his patrol routes needed to be changed in order to monitor areas of Musutafu that were still unresponsive to patrols by heroes in terms of crime decreasing. If there was one thing your boss prided himself on, it was his patrol routes and his ability to cut crime and villain attack rates in his designated areas in half. However, recently there was an uptick in petty crime rates, and in order for him to not get shit on by the public for a “lack of appropriate response,” he put in a formal request for your department to create maps relating to recent data changes in crime rates across the city.

You and your team were more than happy to fulfill this request, as it meant working with real, recent data and meant you got to visit neighboring hero agencies and compare their patrol route crime rates with Dynamight’s. Any excuse to get out of your department’s office on the fifth floor was a godsend because your back really couldn’t handle anymore work days where you were hunched over the large workbench mapping out the city for hours at a time.

As you continued on with your presentation, you periodically glanced towards Dynamight to check his facial expressions for any annoyance or confusion at your maps. Seeing none, you internally LETS FUCKING GOOOO’d because you knew it meant at the very least that if he was understanding the maps, everyone else most likely could too.

Once you reached the last slide, you made a small noise of dissatisfaction. “When we took a look at certain districts, we did notice that the victims of the crimes committed were young women who regularly walked home by themselves later at night. They seemed to be around their early 20s to their late 30s.” Naomi nodded at you, a silent way of saying to continue on.

“I’m sure that you don’t like when many do this, and forgive me if I’m stepping out of bounds,” you began, feeling your hands sweat. “But please do take this information seriously. I know you’re a hardworking hero, so I trust your skills. But I sincerely hope the next time I check the data that the rates will have fallen. People deserve to walk home without fearing for their lives.”

Dynamight’s eyes seemed to bore into your skin, wanting to bark a clipped response back, but he managed to nod silently. You didn’t want to outright mention you yourself were scared of the trend in crime since you fit the statistic, often walking home by yourself late after all-day shifts, but it seems like he’d caught on by the look on your face.

You wrapped up the presentation and answered a couple different questions that the analytics department had about the data collection and resources you used. After your coworkers began packing their bags to leave, you noticed that Dynamight had gotten up out of his chair and walked over to you, who currently stood beside your bag, closing all the tabs you had open that were starting to overheat your little computer.

Glancing up, you nearly choked on your spit at the proximity between the two of you. He was in his winter hero suit, with the black turtleneck beneath his chest piece being pulled tight against his arms, making his muscles pop out unnecessarily in your face, but you definitely were not complaining. Bim..g… muscles… you thought, trying not to stare too long.

“Y-Yes, Dynamight sir?” You managed to sputter out, all too aware of your team members looking at the two of you now. Dynamight managed to grunt in acknowledgement before speaking. “Wanted to ask if you could make one of your fuckin’ maps for Deku. The shithead keeps begging me to ask, he wants one to hang up in his office of his patrol routes.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Of course you would make him one, but you didn’t expect for Dynamight to ask you directly. Typically he forced his manager Atsuno to write out emails of requests he had. You managed to nod eagerly to him. “Yeah, no problem. I can email him later and ask about details. Thanks for letting me know.”

Dynamight only grunted once more before turning on his heel and leaving the room, leaving Atsuno to give chase to his boss as he bowed quickly at you and gave his appreciation for your presentation before leaving the room himself.

The only ones left in the room now were your teammates, and all it took was one glance between the four of you before you all let out a holler in excitement. “We did it! You did incredible up there girl,” Naomi slung her arm around you as you pulled her in for a hug. “I was shitting bricks the whole time, I don’t think I realized how intense Dynamight’s stare can be.”

Kanako and Carl high fived you as you all made your way to the elevator to take back down to your department. “Our first big project presentation and we didn’t get screamed at for a minuscule error? I think we deserve to celebrate tonight,” Carl wiggled his eyebrows towards you and Kanako, with Naomi agreeing excitedly.

“Bar or at someone’s place? Should we drink? Oh we’re totally drinking.” You couldn’t help but smile at your coworkers beside you. You were so grateful to have them beside you while you’d adjusted to the agency life the past couple months. All three of them had come from a specialized area in the analytics department that related to gathering information data on the public, which included things like crime rates and damage assessments.

When your job had been approved, Atsuno told you that you’d be working in a new department in your own section within the agency with some people taken from the analytics department, taking you off guard. You’d surely thought you’d be thrown into analytics too, seeing how geography and cartography could squeeze into it somehow.

Meeting your team for the first time, you were more than grateful to have them work with you as you’d expected to be alone in your department for a while. You helped walk them through the basics of cartography and digital mapmaking using current software, quickly realizing the talent each one had for different areas. While you were technically the head of your department, you felt like everyone pulled their weight equally and deserved to be held on the same level.

“We can go out or I can make us something,” you spoke out loud as the elevator dinged open. “I know you guys have been bugging me about cooking since I bring my own lunches everyday.” Naomi cheered beside you, agreeing as Carl and Kanako hummed in thought. “I’ll pitch in for ingredients if Carl and Naomi buy the alcohol,” Kanako said, casting a glance to her coworkers that were chanting, American food! American food! Over and over again to one another.

All in agreement, you quickly got off on the fifth floor and entered your department room. Located towards the right hand corner in the back of the large office floor, the department itself wasn’t noticeable to the general eye unless you went looking. You each had respective offices lining a small back hallway, with the room at the very end of it being your workshop that expanded into a large open-area space containing desktops, workbenches, and cartography supplies strewn around the place. Atsuno had been kind enough to order a custom nameplate to go above the awning of you and your team’s hall, with Heroics Cartography Department written out in beautiful gold lettering, contrasting nicely against the cool grey paint of the wall.

“Let’s lock in on the rest of the requests and orders today so we can leave at a decent time,” you said, closing the door to the workshop as everyone spoke in agreement. Carl called out your name as you were booting up the desktops to pull up emails from your clients. “We doing hard liquor shit tonight or going with something like wine? Need to pair it well with whatever you’re making.”

You hummed in thought. “We could definitely do cocktails. I was thinking about making gumbo since it’s still cold outside.” You grabbed your phone that was situated in your bag and opened up the Notes app to create your grocery store list. Luckily Japan kept up with their spices and typically had an American section in larger stores where you could grab some of the spice mixes needed for your food.

“Make it spicy as fuck girl, I wanna feel tears pouring out of my eyes to your incredible cooking,” Naomi said, sending you a dreamy look. “If I make it too spicy, Carl’s gonna shit his pants. We all know this man can’t handle spice to save his life.”

“Hey! Will not,” Carl scoffed in surprise. “I just got dunked on by my ancestors because they thought it was funny to give me no spice tolerance in a country that literally eats spicy food in almost every meal.” Kanako managed a laugh at that, sending Carl a sympathetic glance before speaking to you. “If it’s not too much trouble, you could always split it into one pot being spicy and one pot being milder.”

“Fair point, but y’all better eat every morsel of my food. Southern cooking isn’t for the weak,” you mentioned as you scrolled through your finished grocery list, checking for any missing items. Naomi sent you a questioning look before asking you, “you’re from the south U.S. right? Isn’t that like hella country?” You sighed as you nodded. “Yeah, but I lived in the city, not necessarily rural. Didn’t stop me from cooking all types of recipes though.”

“Well wherever you were, you managed to become a pretty kick ass chef on your own. Your lunch always looks god tier.” Kanako said as Carl and Naomi nodded in agreement. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment at the compliment. “Living on your own in college will make you think of some wild new recipes in the name of using up all your groceries to not waste food.”

“That’s for sure, I lived off 20 different cup ramen recipes I created myself with random items from the dining halls I could snag before I got caught.” Carl muttered out loud while he pulled different sized calipers from his desk drawer to begin sketching up a project for Chargebolt.

“Food is food, for real,” you nodded in solidarity. There’s been one too many times where you felt too lazy to make full meals during school, which meant being stuck with random microwave food you kept for low energy days in your apartment kitchen. “Can’t wait to get shitfaced and discuss the existential dread of fucking up on expensive mapping paper,” you mused. Being an absolute geek over geography and cartography, you’ve caught yourself in too many drunken rambles about work-related topics when out with college friends after finals and papers were finished up for the semester.

“Let’s do our best so we can enjoy our Friday into the weekend!” Naomi pumped her fist in the air as she spoke, all of you cheering in agreement.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Later that night, after you all managed to finish up your progress for the day and headed out to grab your respective supplies for your celebration, you found yourself humming to a random 2010s playlist that Kanako had thrown on randomly while you cooked in the kitchen of your apartment. You lived not too far from the agency, a 25 minute walk or an 8 minute bus ride, in a nice neighborhood adorned with townhomes along the street, away from the major roads but still comfortably accessible. The salary you had now had blessed you with the opportunity to live in a nicer place, but you still opted for a more homey feel rather than all the modern bullshit that people were raving for. You really hated the idea of solid white walls and no color in your living space.

Your apartment was on the smaller side but it was just you who lived there. Naomi actually lived in the townhome across the street on the second floor. You both had found out early in your job at the agency, walking home at the same time and going from that awkward “going the same way, sorry” to “oh word you live here?” It meant that you had regular girls nights together and grew close, the friendship between the two of you falling into place naturally. Kanako and Carl were actually roommates in a flat that was a 10 minute train ride away. It truly was fate that all of you managed to not only work well, but vibe with each other outside the office too.

As you finished plating your dishes in bowls, you could hear the conversation flowing between your team in your living room. A couple drinks had already been thrown back and you were more than aware that drinking before you had food in your system was probably a bad idea, but you were about to eat anyways so fuck it. You were already two Moscow mules deep by the time you’d finished up the gumbo.

“Food’s ready!” You called out from the kitchen, the open floor plan making it easy for you to get the attention of everyone else sitting on the couch watching Love is Blind. That show was a debatable one, but you enjoyed watching Carl’s bewildered expressions at the absolutely heinous jokes Kanako would throw out about the men and women of the show and some of their horrible personalities.

“Girl get in here and tell me whether or not you think Gigi needs to up and leave ugly ass Damian,” Naomi said, helping you grab two of the four plates you were bringing out to the coffee table. “I can tell you right now that she does, she’s way too good for someone that looks like a chad version of Ed Sheeran.”

Kanako busted out laughing at your remark, agreeing at the resemblance. As you ate, everyone poured endless compliments into your food, making your chest swell with pride in your hobby. You absolutely loved to cook, and it helped you get through the more rough parts of life when you were struggling to keep up with the demands of school and research. Cooking was your safe space and you made sure you perfected staple recipes from home so you could share them with others, like you were doing now.

Kanako threw back another shot as she chased it with a can of Dr. Pepper before speaking your name. “You do know that your cooking could rival Dynamight’s, right?” You paused mid chew, throwing up an eyebrow at her to continue. You didn’t strike your boss as a cooking connoisseur, but you yourself didn’t look like one either, so you kept an open mind.

“He brings food to the potlucks we have during holidays sometimes. When I tell you that man can damn well cook, believe me,” she slurred slightly, the alcohol already hitting her. Naomi nodded in agreement. “Trust us when we say his cooking is top tier. He’d never admit it, but he likes cooking for others if it means feeding into his ego.” Naomi said, letting out a huff of laughter.

“I tried his signature mapo tofu once and it was so good but I literally had to call in sick the next day because I could not handle the spice he puts in his recipes,” Carl’s forehead thudded against the wood of the coffee table as he grimaced at the memory. “If he ever found out I nearly passed out on the toilet from what he called ‘baby shit spicy’, I think he’d fire me.” You barked out a laugh at that, imagining Dynamight drilling it into your teammate about not appreciating his food and getting sick from it.

Your team had been working with the Dynamight Agency for almost 2 years before you’d joined. It was always jarring to hear the stories of Dynamight from them. Your initial reactions to him early on were anything but pleasant, and still sometimes lean on the side of moderate annoyance. He sounded like a total dick at the beginning, but had apparently mellowed out after high school. You heard he’d bullied the hell out of the current number 1 hero during his time in middle school and a little bit of high school, which had made you livid.

You grabbed the handle of Tito’s sitting in front of you all and poured it into your glass before cracking open a new can of ginger beer and pouring it into the glass as well. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through you, loosening up your tongue the more you drank.

Retrospectively, you really shouldn’t have said the next thing that you did if it meant saving your ass in the workplace that following Monday.

“I could definitely kick Bakugou’s ass if we had a cook off, I mean I’m basically a god tier hobby chef at this point,” you muttered, missing the expressions of your coworkers, specifically the smirk Naomi had on her face. “You think so?” Carl nudged your leg with his own, casting you a tipsy glance. “Fuck yeah I could, I don’t think you realize how hard some southern cooking can be. If I can keep making the recipes without screwing them up, I’m pretty much a god in the kitchen.”

Naomi snickered as Kanako sighed out. “Don’t let Dynamight hear you say that. He gets competitive fast, especially when it comes to food. He was known in high school as the chef of his dorm, didn’t trust others to cook as well as he could.” You definitely could see that, as he struck you as the type to call his friends’ cooking skills trash compared to his own. You hadn’t had the chance to try anything by him yet but could assume it was pretty good if your coworkers spoke of it so highly.

“He can bring it on, I’m not scared of his ass, I bet he couldn’t cook a Cajun recipe if he tried,” Your mouth was moving before you had a chance to realize the words you were saying. “Yeah yeah, big talk for a girl that stuttered after taking one look at her boss’ biceps.” You nearly choked on your drink as Naomi absolutely obliterated you with one sentence. Damn, I really thought I was slick with the look. You sighed as Kanako simply whistled in your direction.

“Don’t tell me you’re falling for him already? His good looks are hard to miss,” she said as she handed you a napkin to wipe your mouth with. Muttering out a thanks, you tried to save yourself some embarrassment. “Oh please, if I wanted to torture myself by falling for a narcissist, I’d go for Shindou instead.” You shuddered at the thought of working for someone like him, suddenly grateful at the fact that you were working for Dynamight instead.

“Don’t deny yourself. I bet you probably had a Dynamight wall in your dorm room at some point.” Carl was an absolute menace when he got tipsy, clearly not skipping out on poking fun at you. You groaned at his comment, shaking your head. “Nah, it was a Deku wall, actually.” You weren’t lying if you thought about it, you did have a lot of respect for the hero as you’d learned more about him during your study abroad. He came from a humble background, what was there not to like about someone as sweet as the number 1?

“You always struck me as the type of person to go for someone batshit crazy though. I bet you’d probably like it if Dynamight was mean to you.” Kanako sent you a look that made you shiver. “How dare you accuse me of such nonsense,” you tutted, sipping on your drink before muttering a small, “I probably would.” Naomi slapped her hand on the table, yelling out, “I heard that you freak!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as your team members switched the topic to their picks for hottest heroes, with Carl sighing dreamily as he named Red Riot his number one choice, Uravity being a close second. During the chaos of the conversation, you forgot all about your quip towards Dynamight’s cooking.

You really should have remembered, because remembering would mean you could have prepared yourself more for your conversation with him later.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

After the eventful weekend and nursing a massive hangover from the sheer amount of vodka you managed to drink together, your team trudged their way into the workplace again and began the process of uploading and creating new maps on ArcGIS to send over for clients’ approval. You were all lucky you got weekends off when there wasn’t a high demand of requests for maps and geographic data.

You were midway through a rough sketch of Deku’s patrol route, taking a small break to grab a water bottle from the vending machine on the second floor when you heard the first whispers.

“— she definitely wouldn’t,” a man from the finance department whispered to his coworker who was shaking his head enthusiastically. You recognized the guy who was speaking as Leo, a coworker you’d met early on that helped you budget out what was needed in terms of supplies in your current workspace. He often chatted with Naomi, who regularly contacted him to put in new orders of pencils and ink for the maps you all drew by hand. “I think she could. She’s from the west, they tend to take home cooking pretty seriously over there. No doubt she could beat him.” The other coworker beside Leo spoke. Now that caught your attention. It sounded like they were talking about you, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t know how many other people were in the agency that were also from the west, they could be talking about anybody, right?

As soon as they saw you, Leo nudged his coworker to shut up before waving at you with an uneasy smile. “What are y’all talking about over here? Something about cooking?” You said, walking over and greeting both of them. Leo nodded, slightly caught off guard. “Yeah, we— uh, we were talking about a cooking show we both watch! One of the chefs is from the west and she’s competing with other chefs to win a national title.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not really buying it but not really caring too much to think that hard about it. “Well remember that westerners can be pretty goated at cooking all kinds of food. She’s probably got a chance,” you shrugged before excusing yourself, waving at them as you walked back to the elevator once you purchased your water bottle.

You continued to flutter in and out of your workspace throughout the day, stopping for lunch and eating in your office with Naomi before returning back to work. However, you weren’t stupid; there were way more eyes on you today than you’d ever experienced, even more than when you first joined. You knew Naomi was sort of a gossip guru in the office, but you’d assumed she was probably flexing your cooking to anyone that crossed her path during the day.

You didn’t mind it, but the attention on you was definitely kind of concerning, especially because people kept whispering about something to do with an upcoming agency event that would include food. You figured you could probably whip up some good appetizers to bring to it, whenever it was.

As you were finishing up your sketches and scaling them correctly with the notes on your computer, Atsuno hurriedly burst through the door of the workshop, looking slightly disheveled. Your coworkers all glanced up at him at the same time before he coughed awkwardly and straightened his posture.

“New request sent in? Surely it’s not that important for you to have to run in here for,” You asked him as you wiped your hands on a towel to get rid of the ink stains along your palms. You definitely couldn’t risk messing up the paper now that you were this far along. He sighed heavily before shaking his head. “No, I uh— I had to come in here and ask that you go meet with Dynamight before you get off work. He wants to check in on the progress with Deku’s patrol route map.” You raised an eyebrow. Couldn’t he just shoot us an email? you wondered before nodding, asking if he was in his office. Atsuno nodded, offering to walk with you there, filling you in on the progress that’s about to be made with the maps your team had created relating back to crime rates along the districts in the city.

You missed the slightly concerned glance Naomi cast your way as you exited the shop.

After taking the elevator up to Dynamight’s office located on the 10th floor, you stepped off the lift and looked around the interior. You rarely ever came to this floor since it was mainly Dynamight’s office, the rest of the floor filled with smaller offices that were for his sidekicks, Atsuno, and his other head managers from different departments.

Turning right out of the elevator, Atsuno walked you to Dynamight’s office, adjacent from his own. Upon knocking, a gruff “come in” came from the other side of the door. Dynamight’s office was fucking nice.

It was as large as your own workshop, if not larger, and contained Dynamight’s desk, shelves full of memorabilia and other items, a couch in the center of the room, and what seemed to be an en-suite bathroom. His office overlooked the rest of the city, large window panes lining the wall his back was turned to. Along the rest of the non-windowed walls were frames of photos that contained Dynamight in his younger years, from when he was in high school to now. He was still in his mid 20s, but the photos along the wall told an interesting story of his life the past few years as he climbed the hero ranks.

Turning towards him, Atsuno cleared his throat before bowing to you and leaving, citing that he had to go sit in on a phone call with a sports clothing brand that was looking to sponsor Dynamight. He sure did clear out of here fast. You figured he was probably just busy, as all Mondays are.

Dynamight was staring into your soul again as you turned back to him and awkwardly shifted your weight onto your other foot. You began the conversation with, “you wanted to check in on Deku’s request, right?”

“Yeah. Nerd’s looking forward to it and won’t shut the hell up every time he calls me. Enjoys your work a fuckin’ ton,” he spoke, his gravelly voice sending a pleasurable hum through your body. If he wasn’t a hero, he could definitely be an ASMR YouTuber, you mused.

You gave him a small smile. “I’m surprised he’s heard of me. My work isn’t exactly groundbreaking,” you began to fiddle with your work jacket’s zipper. It was cold as shit in your office, so you had Leo sneak in an order for your team to have matching work jackets by Carhartt since they were durable and warm. “Yeah, well get used to the recognition. Your job is a first for the country. Constantly gettin’ questions about why I hired you.” You felt a small spark of annoyance work through your system. “Not sure you mean that in a good or bad way.” You huffed, walking towards his desk and sitting across from him in one of the plush seats. He eyed you with mild curiosity before explaining.

“Not a bad thing. People just don’t understand why yer work’s so important.” You nodded in acknowledgement. He wasn’t wrong. Cartographers are uncommon in the modern world now that technology has dominated the industry. You remember the times in college where people would always ask why you got into your field. You had to explain that cartography wasn’t just hand drawing maps; it related back to software and digital images too.

“I get to create anything I want on a map. My quirk’s a weird one, but it helps a lot of different people, so I’m not complaining.” You eyed the pack of pink sparkly sticky notes and glitter pens sitting next to Dynamight’s keyboard. Pinky probably brought him her new stationary set that launched recently, you thought to yourself with amusement.

“Speakin’ of, been wantin’ to ask you a question.” Dynamight caught you eying his stationary and scratched his neck in what you could assume to be embarrassment. “Shoot,” you replied, noting that the sun was finally beginning to set later in the day now that the winter solstice happened a month ago.

“Why didn’t you become like— a fuckin’ underground hero or some shit? Your quirk isn’t that niche. Could use it for raids n’ infiltrating places.” You didn’t know whether or not to take his commentary as a compliment or not, but you figured that if he was questioning your avoidance of the hero career path, it meant he noticed something in you that you didn’t.

“It wasn’t for me. My quirk is exhausting. Five miles sounds like a pretty small radius, but when I’m visualizing the area, everything is visualized. Buildings, roads, you name it. Drawing it from memory takes a lot out of me,” you spoke. “I take a while to draw and digitize my maps. It wouldn’t be easy to keep up with the hustle of hero work, let alone working within a time crunch.”

Dynamight hummed in acknowledgement. You really didn’t expect to be conversing with him about your life choices, but it was a nice break, and it meant you got to learn more about him, even if he was asking about your life.

“You still chose to work with heroes though.” You let out a small laugh. “I guess you’re right,” you began, meeting his stare. He was really pretty now that you were looking closer at him. “I figured if I couldn’t handle the stress of real hero work, that working behind the scenes is the next best thing. My maps are almost always accurate and to scale; I pride myself on it. Means that heroes can rely on the information for a multitude of things.”

He nodded, seemingly hesitating before speaking again. “Know we ain’t had a chance to talk much since y’started working here. Red begged me to put you in my agency because he figured you’d be easier to reach here and your name would get recognized if it was associated with my office.” You hadn’t really thought of that before, but he was right. Red Riot’s office was packed as it was, and you figured everyone else’s was too. It was a lucky shot that you got placed with Dynamight, since he was still looking for workers to fill in his office due to it being newer than most.

“I really appreciate Eijiro being able to start my career off like this. I never would have imagined moving across the country to start my dream job so soon, if at all,” you said, casting your gaze to the pictures on Dynamight’s shelves behind his desk. “First name basis, huh?” the hero smirked as you let out a small noise of shock. “Y-Yeah, we kept in contact a lot and he would regularly help me gain clients in different cities. Told me that we were friends and to stop addressing him by his hero name every time we talked.”

“That’s Eiji for you.” A pregnant pause followed before your boss let out a groan of frustration. “I’m not— I fuckin’ hate small talk like this. Don’t know how people do it,” Dynamight said finally, pinching the bridge of his nose before speaking again. “Couldn’t figure out how to speak to you without sounding like a dick ‘cause I didn’t do it sooner. Atsuno was grilling me about not even having a functional conversation with you yet, even though I’m the one that hired you.”

You let out a laugh at that. You had been a little mad at him for not even properly greeting you since you began your work for the agency, but you assumed that being the number 2 hero in Japan was busy as shit. “I get it, you’re a top hero. I’m sure you’re busy enough as it is, can’t blame you for not being able to talk to a cartographer of all people,” you shrugged as you spoke, Dynamight leaning back in his office chair and giving you a small nod.

“Yeah. Sorry for steering the convo elsewhere. How’s Deku’s shitty map comin’ along?” He asked as you began going through the details of your progress.

After you explained the gist of it, he grunted in response before standing up. He’s tall as fuck, you realized as you hurriedly stood up as well, assuming your talk was over with. Dynamight walked you to his office door before stopping once you turned around to thank him again. “Thanks for uh— earlier. When you were complimenting my work. It means a lot, truly.”

“Don’t let it inflate yer shitty ego. Can’t handle another person that gets a big head after someone compliments them,” he spat. You could tell he wasn’t used to being given a sincere thanks very often. “Hey. One more thing.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as his face turned blank for a moment before he sighed and his signature scowl returned. You should have known the conversation you were having earlier was too good to be true.

“You would not be able to win against me in a fuckin’ cook off. My cooking probably beats yours by a shit ton. Watch your mouth next time you run around all bark and no bite.” You nearly fainted on the spot as your body ran as cold as ice. What the fuck. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK? You repeated in your head, eyes going wider than dish plates as Dynamight’s glare sent another chill down your spine.

“Shit.” Is all that came out of your mouth after he all but pushed you by your back out the door and closed it in your face.

It’s official, you think as you trudge your way to the elevator, the beginning of a migraine creeping into your skull. You were going to kill Naomi.

#pro hero katsuki x reader #pro hero bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #ross works

[smartycvnt]

Work Song

Title: Work Song

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 862

Miranda didn't know how long she had been wandering around for. She had laid Eva to rest, and then just started walking. She couldn't return back to Britian, back to the husband who didn't believe she could be a mother and work at the same time. He had been correct, and in bringing Eva with her, she had exposed her daughter to the sickness that killed her. Miranda couldn't go back to her old life, all she could do was hope that something killed her in this one.

The trees that had surrounded her began to lessen as she continued on her path. Her legs felt weak from the hours and hours of walking that she had been doing. Miranda stumbled over a tree root and tumbled down a hill. She laid there on the ground groaning in pain with her eyes closed. Everything hurt, both mentally and physically, and Miranda began to pray that it would be the end of her.

Miranda woke hours later surrounded by an unfamiliar warmth. It wasn't hot or uncomfortable enough to be the flames of Hell. Miranda feared to open her eyes only to see that her prayers of death had gone unanswered. She just squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the sweet relief of death to catch up with her. She didn't deserve life anymore, so she would lay there and wait until something came for her.

"Shh, it's okay," an unfamiliar voice soothed her. Miranda hadn't even noticed her whimpering, but the voice didn't seem bothered or surprised by it. Miranda felt a gentle touch on her forehead as a wet cloth was replaced. There was a moment where Miranda felt the stranger watching her before they eventually got up to leave. Miranda let the footsteps nearly disappear before she spoke up.

"Why won't you let me die?" Miranda asked. She wasn't sure if she had expected an answer or not at first, but the silence was jarring. Miranda heard the footsteps completely disappear a few moments later. Now stuck in silence and solitude, Miranda drifted off back to sleep with the hope of never waking up again. She wanted to be reunited with her baby.

"Get up. You need to eat," the stranger said as she nudged Miranda awake. Miranda's eyes were forced open by the sudden intrusion. She looked around the room before her eyes landed on the woman sitting at the end of the bed. "Come on, sit up now."

"Why didn't you just leave me out there?" Miranda asked as she complied.

"If I told you, you'd call me crazy. Just, accept this kindness and remember it. My name is Y/n." Miranda nodded as she accepted the offered bowl of soup. Y/n smiled as she watched Miranda take the first few sips of the broth. "Now, what were you doing out in the woods so late at night? Don't you know what's out there?"

"Enlighten me," Miranda said.

"Something rumbles in the caves, and it changes people. They say it can mark you with death, it's what happened to me. You can hear the dead speak through it," Y/n warned. Miranda's eyes lit up at the thought of being able to speak with Eva through whatever was in the caves. It was superstitous and scientifically impossible, but Miranda was desperate. "Most who go down to the caves are consumed by the beast."

"If I cannot have my reunion in life, then I will happily accept it in death," Miranda said. Y/n's face fell at the stranger's words.

"You cannot die, I have saved you for a reason. The caves, they call for you, but you are not ready yet. It is my job to make sure that you are. You can save us all if you can control the spread of the beast. It has begun marking the crops and livestock. It tempts even the most holy of the village." Y/n seemed genuinely fearful as she spoke about the beast in the caves. The logical part of Miranda's brain started to think of things that could be causing the scare.

"This beast, is it an animal?" Miranda asked. Y/n shook her head and pulled a cloth out from a little pouch at her side. She let the cloth fall open as she presented it to Miranda. Miranda gingerly reached out towards what looked like a piece of fungus.

A voice in the back of Miranda's head started calling out to her to touch and consume it. Miranda wanted it to be a part of her, which was dangerous. Miranda let her fingers graze over the top of it, and the fungus left dark marks on her fingers. Y/n watched with a morbid curiosity, never having seen the beast mark anybody like that before.

"Take me to the caves in the morning. This is what I need." Y/n quickly closed the cloth and hastily exited the room. The dead look behind Miranda's eyes had been replaced by something fanatical and driven. Y/n now feared that she had created a monster, one that would be the undoing of all of them.

#one shot #my writing #resident evil x reader #resident evil #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda

[ringleaderising]

For a clan lore ask! I'd love to hear about the Stelhope Orphanage (i think that's what it says, the title is cut off lol)

The hatchlings all have a similar, really striking look about them! I think they're gorgeous, even if slightly unnerving when seen in a group like that. They've piqued my interest!

Content Warning: Egg Eating Vampiric Hatchlings. yeah.

"Grand, towering, and seemingly empty, there's a sensation when stood at the gates of the Stelhope Orphanage that there's something behind murky glass windows staring back at you . . . "

The children of Stelhope are, all things considered, just children, with interests and personalities befitting of your typical rough and tumble hatchlings, running the gauntlet from loud and passionate to shy and reserved. Yes. on the surface, these youths left to run roughshod and govern themselves seem entirely like a collective of children abandoned- and that, perhaps, is the intention.

(Syringe and Buret)

The veritable cuckoo in the nest, these hatchlings are not deserving of pity- and those who foolishly take one of them in find very quickly the kind of ruin that is beset upon those who are kind without question. Taking in one of these odd, dark eyed children spells disaster for their new 'parents'- and more than that, any nest in the home they've been brought to inhabit.

(Beaker and Petri)

For the Stelhope orphans are Ovivorous, predating predominantly on unhatched eggs from other dragons. in fact, it's their strange diet that has led, perhaps, to their unsettling appearances in seeming lockstep with one another.

(Vial and Erlenmeyer)

Bodies marked with bold, black and white markings, eyes cast in bright, slit pupils with darkened sclera and the empty, blank skeletal structures of wings seemingly void of any sort of real membranes, they're oft viewed as pitiful, weak in their capability for survival- but they boil over with wild, unbound magic, drained from the eggs they consume- stored in the thin, see-through membranes of their stomachs, and this magic oozes from their mouths, between glittering, needle sharp teeth in every maw- even those already settled with beaks or previously marked with simple herbivore teeth.

(Reagent and Crucible)

Magic thin as thread and slick as ice excreted in this process is regularly applied to the bare bones of their wings, forming sticky, leaking membranes to facilitate flight- often used to make a quick get away, once their true nature as a blight is discovered. It is perhaps, safest, to leave them within the walls of the crumbling orphanage of Vaudemire Way, among the children just like them, unable to predate upon those who cannot protect themselves from just under the snout of those meant to do so in their stead.

(Tesla, Pipette, Flask)

Without a regular flow of food due to the absence of anything resembling a caregiver (due to the mysterious disappearance of the single minder of their collective a handful of years ago), however, they've started to wander from their homes, black-eyed portents of barren nests and drained magic for any so foolish to fall for their crocodile tears. They are not afraid, they are not alone.

They are hungry. Do not help them hunt.

#flight rising #fr #flightrising #okay to rb/reply! #If I need to tag this too lmk

[dcawritings]

You're bewitched by the devil's lullaby Dance away in the dead of the night Hear the voices humming in your mind He will never let you out of sight

- Devil's Lullaby by Jim Yosef & Scarlett

It should burn.

The hands, the claws, the very touch should seep into your flesh like brimstone and fire, scorch through your still-white feathers like a dry thicket come alight by a sudden spark.

Every ounce of Grace still desperately singing in your blood should have long-since boiled away in the unyielding heat of Hell. And even then any denizen of the sinful Depths would see its blinding purity — and you as an extension — as nothing more than a beautiful, cloying drug promising the sweetest, most delectable high any immortal could experience.

You should be screaming in pain. Begging for mercy, praying for forgiveness, wishing and pleading for a swift end; anything other than the slow, painful drain of Grace that haunted the edges of stories told of the shadowy depths far beneath the aether of the cosmos.

And yet...

“Little thing,” a deep voice croons, low and steady while claws drag themselves through the nervous fluff of feathers that are your unkempt wings; it has been impossible to preen them properly yourself since falling over the edge of Heaven’s gates. “You’re thinkin’ a little too much again. Can see it on that pretty face.”

A second hand finds the curve of your chin and tugs it so your eyes lift and meet his.

They burn like coal, pupils white-hot and gaze burning hotter than anything you've ever seen before. Against the soft warmth of Heaven's skies, this demon lord's mere gaze is the center of a dying star, the very moment that its core implodes upon itself in a brilliant, horrible supernova.

You say nothing, but he knows he has your attention acutely.

He is Eclipse, after all, a member of the Circle of Seven and the namesake demon of Lust — who else is there for your focus to fall? It isn't like there's a more vibrant, attention-grabbing demon in his lavish mansion of a home after all. His visage is bright and hot and heavy; like a star made of lead.

It presses down over your shoulders like a heavy blanket.

"Sweet angel," he purrs, dragging those dagger-edged claws through the feathers covering your wings so gently that he manages only to pluck out the ones that are broken and loose.

Claws that can rip and tear through bone and flesh as easily as paper, claws that can maim and desecrate the floor with immortal blood with barely a glance if they so much as misspoke in earshot.

The same claws that should have burned you to ash the very moment he caught your limp, exhausted body as it had tumbled seemingly from Hell's dark sky.

The demon hums, cooing softly, "You'll burn yourself out thinkin' that hard, darling. No need for those silly. Little. Thoughts."

Eclipse emphasizes each word with a gentle tap to the tip of your nose, grinning wide and sharp with a maw of teeth that you know have ripped lesser demons apart.

You'd heard tales of Asmodeus, the official title given to the demon lord of lust, but you'd never imagine he would be like this. His body is tall and thin, face haloed by what seems to be a mockery of sunrays that glow a bright cherry red when he gets agitated. The flare of fire around his void-dark face was mostly at demons who prostrated themselves before him in the hope that he would offer them even a shred of his infernal power.

He never does.

Some are allowed to leave with a burning threat, while others are simply massacred on the spot; at least Eclipse has taken to using one of his massive hands to shield your eyes when he does it, quickly realizing the sight of shredded viscera bothered you deeply.

He spent hours consoling you after that first time, when all you can remember is the color of crimson staining the walls; that was also when the demon first started to call you his.

Never once did the dark, haunted stories of this terrible demon mention how gentle he can be. How his voice can feel like a soft breeze against your cheek and the half-remembered sound of home. How, when he soothes you with honeyed words, your body feels safe and warm and small and perfect—

"That's it," he coos, feeling you grow lax and loose against his chest again, wings unfolded so he could reach every inch from the base to the very tips. "Sweet little angel mine, you'll want for nothing if you just let me do all the hard thinking for you. Yes... Just relax, sleep. Sleeeeeep...."

You shouldn't feel so comforted by his words, his soothing touch, his burning hot presence pressing against you like a safety blanket.

His promises should be threats, his love should be loathing, his adoration should be the promise of pain and suffering — he should be supping from your Grace like a fine wine until nothing of you is left but a hollowed husk of a creature no longer welcome beyond the gilded embrace of Heaven's Gates.

So why do you feel safe?

"Sleep now," the words drift through the air like a promise. "Let go."

Eclipse may not be your kidnapper, but you are trapped all the same; a feeble bird in a burning cage, where the flames reaching between the bars threaten to blacken your feathers and rend every drop of heavenly light from your veins.

Can you even escape back to the holy light of Heaven? And, assuming that you even can eventually find a way back...

"Hush now, sweet one, and sleep for me. Don't fear for a moment, don't want for a thing — you're mine, after all."

... will you still want to leave?

"My beautiful little angel."

The warm embrace of unconsciousness had never felt so wonderful before.

So warm, so sweet, so addictingly perfect.

#writing #sfw #sfw ficlet #sfw drabble #eclipse #fnaf eclipse #fanon eclipse #fnaf dca #fnaf dca fandom #demon!AU #hell!AU #demon!Eclipse #Asmodeus!Eclipse #eclipse ficlet #eclipse drabble #drabble #ficlet #fnaf x reader #eclipse x reader #eclipse x y/n #very very loosely inspired by the lore of hazbin hotel #never seen the show but listened to fan music and the dca server went off with me on ideas sldfkjasdklf #angel!y/n #angel!reader

[deakyjoe]

A Million Love Songs

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns used)

Category: fluff

Summary: If music be the food of love, play on.

Warnings: mainly fluff, talks of dead family and planet troubles, Din being awkward

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Din Djarin, my beloved. Title taken from the Take That song of the same name. Proof read? No. Enjoy!

When Din had announced that you'd be leaving the ship for the first time in weeks after finally landing, you were elated. You'd dropped your tools and jumped up excitedly. Weeks of travelling, going in and out of hyperspace, had you almost crawling the walls. And when Din had said you could accompany him to a small town, you just about squealed with delight.

He'd taken you into the small town and led you to the local cantina where a live band were playing. He hadn't thought much of it until you beelined for them. Din watched you stand there enamoured by the band in front of you, eyes wide and unblinking as you stared longingly at the group. He wondered why you seemed to be enjoying them so much. They were average at best. Maybe live bands weren't as common on your home planet?

He allowed you to watch for a while, liking how you seemed to be loving it so much, before leading you away to a table so he could order some food for you and the kid.

He waited until your meals arrived to broach the subject.

"You don't have music where you're from?" It was half a question and half a statement, he'd made the assumption based on your reaction to the band before. And he seemed to be right when you answered him.

You shook your head, thinking back to your planet. "No, my home was too remote. Didn't really see much of anything." Suddenly remembering something, you paused. "But one year we had a really good harvest so my family travelled to the closest city to sell some things and there happened to be a festival. I saw a band. A live band! It was the best day ever. The only time I've ever heard music that isn't coming out of my own mouth. Until today."

Din frowned beneath his helmet. He thought it was slightly odd. "Not even on Tatooine?"

"No." You sighed at the thought. "I was only there for a couple of days before you arrived."

Seeming sad at the idea, Din couldn't allow you to miss out on something so simple yet so wonderful.

"I'll take you back one day. Soon. There's a band there that I think you'd like." The words were quiet but held a promise in them, a promise that Din vowed to keep.

Hope filled your voice. "Really?"

"Yes." Even if he had no previous intention of keeping his word, the way your eyes lit up at the idea would have changed his mind. "Really."

"Thank you."

"It's no trouble. I'm on Tatooine often."

"Still..."

"Hmm." He was silent for a moment. "Where are you from? I don't know if you've ever told me."

"Uhhh..." Your nose scrunched at the question.

"What? You can't remember?" He chuckled softly at your confused expression.

"No, it's not that." You rolled your eyes. "I'm just thinking... I don't think there's a translation for the name in Basic."

"Oh-" His head tilted back in surprise. "Say it in its original form then."

A lengthy word tumbled from your lips, sounding like a mix of vowels overlapping consonants and syllables being either so extended or shortened that it was hard to pick up on whatever you were saying.

"That's..."

"Long? I know. Took me until my late adolescence before I could pronounce it." You rolled your eyes and shrugged. "It was home."

"Why'd you leave?"

The way your mouth turned down at the corners had Din regretting his question.

"You don't have to-"

"No, it's okay. Umm..." You thought back to your planet, happy memories of it playing around in your head. "The climate started to decline a few years back. It became impossible to grow or harvest anything after a while. The planet was dying, as were its people. So my family sent me to Tatooine in the hopes that I could find somewhere for us to move to and settle down."

"And did you?"

You shook your head sadly. "The time it took me to travel there was too long. They all died before I got the chance.”

"I'm sorry."

You shrugged again. "Things happen."

"And that's when I found you?"

Your expression changed into one of happiness, of adoration. "And that's when you found me."

He softened at the way your face lit up at the mention of the two of you meeting, he felt the same.

The group of you sat in mostly silence for the rest of the meal, the child babbling every now and again and you blindly agreeing with whatever he was trying to say.

When you were done, Din handed you everything. Including the baby. "Take the kid back to the Razor Crest. I've got to pick up some things and inquire about a bounty here."

You nodded and slung the bags over your shoulders, careful not to jostle the child too much. "Okay, how long will you be?"

He gave a short shrug, the metal of his armour clanking together. "Not long. Maybe an hour or two."

"Hmm, alright." You pondered something for a second. "I might try to do some repairs in the hull. Small stuff."

Din nodded. "Okay."

"See you later and stay safe." You smiled at him, sweet and sincere.

He loved your smile. "Always do."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him. "Yeah, okay."

And then you parted ways.

The bounty was unsuccessful so Din moved onto the market fairly quickly, walking around and buying the essential supplies. He managed to negotiate a few of the prices down with the mere intimidating aura of his presence.

It was when he reached the last stall in the market that his eyes landed on an object tucked away at the back of the table, partially obscured by a scarf.

"How much for this?" He asked the woman who owned it, picking it up and freezing when she announced a number that was way over his budget.

"You want it as a gift for someone? A special friend perhaps?" She sent him a knowing smirk.

He nodded. Whilst not strictly true in the way she was implying, Din considered you to be pretty special. Just not special enough to spend all of his remaining credits at once, no matter how much he really wanted to.

"Then have it."

He glanced up at her through the visor, assuming he'd heard her incorrectly.

"Take it. Give it to them and make them happy. Pfft, that has been sitting there since my son was a boy." She gestured at the fully grown man sitting behind her asleep. "Nobody wants it. But if it'll make your friend happy then have it."

"No, let me give you something for it."

"Nonsense. You have already bought half of my goods! Take it!" She cried at him, waving her hands to shoo him away.

"Thank you." He said, walking away once she'd nodded at him one last time to confirm.

The journey back to the Razor Crest was quick, given the fact that Din was almost running. He was nervous to give the gift to you, unsure if you'd like it. Logically, he knew you would. But he still doubted himself.

When he reached the ship, the doors wouldn't open fast enough. He waited impatiently as they hissed open and trudged up the ramp when they finally did.

"Hey, you're back!" You called to him from the end of the hull, head buried in a circuit board protruding from the wall. Din didn't even want to know what you were doing.

So he said nothing, pulled the present from his bag, turned the handle a few times and opened the box. He waited with bated breath for your reaction as a soft lullaby started to echo around the hull of the ship.

You froze in your spot, spanner dropping to the floor with a metallic clang. The song coming from the music box was heavenly, especially to your ears. You turned slowly in your spot, eyes wide with wonder as you looked to Din. When you stood and started making your way towards him, he straightened up and feared he'd done something wrong. You were deathly silent.

The song ended so he broke the quiet. "I found it at the market. Thought you'd like it."

Your eyes had filled with tears. "You bought it for me?"

"Yes." He nodded and gave it to you. "Here. So you can listen to music whenever you'd like."

You looked up at him with a new expression in your eyes, one he didn't recognise. "I love it. Thank you."

It was so quiet, he wouldn't have heard you if you were any further away from him.

"You're welcome."

Din watched you as you turned the handle, the song playing again. The way your face lit up as the melody flowed through the air had him melting inside. Who knew it would be so easy to please you? He was so glad you liked it.

"How'd it go in town?" You asked suddenly, eyes trained on the music box.

"They had a bounty for me but I declined the offer."

You looked up at him at that. "Why?"

A shrug. "Had to deal with a Wookiee."

"So?" You frowned deeply at that, not liking that answer.

"I don't speak Wookiee." He said as if it were obvious.

"Shyriiwook." You corrected him.

"What?" The frown on his face was almost audible.

"Shyriiwook. Wookieespeak." You explained with a casual wave of your hand, careful not to drop the gift he'd given you.

"Yeah, that. I don't speak that."

"I do." You confessed.

He almost didn't believe you. "You've never heard music before but you can speak Wookiee?"

"Shyriiwook. We had a Wookiee working for us back home. Nicest guy I ever met." You shrugged. "Besides, there wasn't a lot to do when I wasn't fixing things. I had time to learn languages."

"Maybe now you can learn about music."

You perked up. "You think?"

"Yeah, there's a lot of time on here when there's nothing to do. Why not? We'll find you some books." He thought the suggestion seemed nice, all he wanted was for you to be happy.

"That sounds amazing." You chirped, turning the handle on the music box once again. "I'm sorry if this gets annoying. You can tell me to stop playing it."

"It's okay." It really was. "Where's the kid?"

"Asleep in the cockpit." You mumbled, already humming along to the lullaby.

Din left you there alone, happy with your music, as he went to find the child and adjust the coordinates for your next destination. The soft sounds of you singing along to the song managed to reach him all the way from the hull. He smiled and congratulated himself for finding you a good gift and making you happy. Secretly he hoped he'd be able to do so many more times in the future.

A/N: I want a Din Djarin to buy me music boxes and love my smile. I adore writing fluffy shit with Din.

#din djarin my beloved #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fluff #mando fanfiction #mando fluff #grogu #pedro pascal #star wars

[aziraphalesdiaries]

31 st. January 2024

Dear diary.

It has been a while now, since I departed to Heaven.

Since I left earth.

Since I left my bookshop.

Since I... left Crowley.

Crowley... He was so angry, when I offered him to come with me to Heaven. To be an angel again. To be my second in command. I was confused first, wondering, what was wrong with him. Why wasn't he happy? But I was confused by the entire situation. His words.. they didn't make any sense.

He ... confessed that we'd been a team for at least 6000 years, denying that we are. Then, he brought up the idea of running away again. But this time, he seemed so... desperate. He seid, that we 'could have been...us'.

Before I could get any of my thoughts together, he stepped towards me, grabbed me by the coat and ... kissed me.

Good heavens, I can't describe the feeling, can't describe what happened to me.

All these years of disguise, of performing a charade ... a charade of not liking that nasty, courageous and caring, brave, sneaky, charming, dashing, daring bastard... all this collapsed over me like a gigantic house of cards.

I didn't even have the chance to sort out the pieces, when he suddenly pulled away. His eyes, these wonderful yellow eyes, glared at me, awaiting what I had to say. And me? I stuttered, stumbled over my tongue and could onlz think of the sentence, I always said after we had a fight. The sentence that always made everything well again.

'I forgive you!'

Not this time.

I could see his eyes shadow, something broke within them.

'Don't bother!'

He went pale, turned on a heel and stormed out of the bookshop.

I stood there like back in Jericho again, when the walls came tumbling down. Or those poor humans of Sodom who were turned into pillars of salt.

My trembling hand touched my mouth... where his sweet lips had been moments ago. It already felt like eternity.

Before I could calm my thoughts and blink away my tears, The Metatron entered and urged me to leave.

It must have been a reflex. An escape reflex.

The next thing I remembered, was crossing the street at The Metatron's side, stepping towards the lift. Where he told me, what the ineffable plan really was.

The Second Coming.

All colour drained from my face. They're trying it again. And this time, it was, as Crowley had said 'The Big Thing'.

I was wrong.

He was right.

He'd been right all along.

I turned to my bookshop, where Muriel was about to close the door. But my eyes were on Crowley. My dear Crowley, as he stood next to the Bentley, waiting for me to turn away and run to him.

I could feel my heart breaking.

Because I didn't.

I had been tricked.

But if I wanted to save Humankind, if I wanted to save Crowley, my dear beloved Crowley, I had to go to Heaven. I had to be in charge and make a difference. It was the only way.

Heaven would never change.

So it had to be stopped from the inside.

I need some time to get used to my new title. Supreme Archangel Aziraphale is way too complicated, but Heaven insisted on that. So I go along with it as long as I can.

The first days and weeks were just a blurr, since there were so many things to be done. Michael and Uriel hadn't been very helpful. The Metatron kept a very close eye on me, but since I hadn't brought Crowley, his suspicion faded day by day.

I tried to feel at home, at least a bit, but every day without earth, the streets of London, Nina and Maggie and food and coffee and my 4 o' clock tea and - all over that- Crowley, was just bitter and empty. It drained all laughter from my face, made it a cold and stony mask.

I start to understand Gabriel, why he was, like he was. I even feel pity for him.

So I spend my days existing, listening to the orders given from above and give them to others

But today I miracled a small book, a pen and I allowed myself some time to process all those things that happened.

I have to be very cautious, listing all that happens up here in Heaven so that dear Crowley will know properly to make the right preparations.

Because I won't let them down.

Not after I gave away my flaming sword .

I won't let him down. Not again.

Sincerely yours

A. Z. Fell

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale

[ice-fire-or-clear]

Take My Breath Away

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x f!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Basically Ice is tough and cool until the Reader is a badass who puts him into a tailspin. Mostly fluff :)

A/N: Ahhh quintessential Top Gun fic title time. Enjoy this short thing while I’m working on the next chapter of Further on the Edge! This came into my head and I just had to write it lol.

CW: alcohol, harassment (nothing toooo intense), non-graphic violence, blood mention, language

—

Ice made a face, baring his teeth for a second as the alcohol burned his throat. Normally, he only drank to enhance a good time. Tonight was different.

“How are you feeling after that one?” Slider grinned knowingly, shoving Ice’s shoulder good-naturedly after downing his own shot. Ice rolled his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment. This sort of thing didn’t happen very often to him.

Sighing, he turned away from Slider and glanced over his shoulder, hoping his pretense of glancing at the bar line was convincing. Of course, no such luck. Regularly putting yourself into life-or-death situations with someone tended to mean they knew your nervous habits.

“You know,” Iceman’s best friend and currently, biggest nuisance, started thoughtfully. “In all the years we’ve flown together, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this nervous. And if I did, I wouldn’t have expected it to be over a woman."

Ice glared over at Slider and his shit-eating grin. “Fuck you, I am not nervous.”

Slider’s smile only got wider.

“…whatever. I’m getting us another round.”

As the pilot made his way to the bar, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander over to their favorite topic. Several weeks ago, his home squadron received a new pilot, transferring in from the Replacement Fleet Squadron. New pilots weren’t that uncommon, and Ice usually didn’t take too much interest in the rookies, always overeager to impress everyone and way too confident in their own abilities.

Until you walked out on the flight deck one morning, ready to do your pre-flight checks just as Ice was coming in from his own patrol, and knocked him flat out on his ass.

No, really.

Cool, calm, calculated Iceman was so transfixed by you that he missed his step entirely, tumbling the last few feet to the ground. Slider looked like Christmas had come early. Things went from bad to worse when you jumped up from checking your own plane to jog over and see if he was okay.

“These things do come with a ladder, Lieutenant. Pretty sure they covered that in flight school,” you said, smiling over at him as he dusted himself off.

“Uh-huh,” he grumbled, keeping his gaze turned down so you would miss the red glow his cheeks had assumed. Slider could no longer contain his laughter.

Ice really didn’t mean to be so rude to you that day, you just… caught him off guard, is all. And every time he had seen you since then, he had always tried to re-introduce himself and apologize for the incident on the tarmac. But every time he tried to go over to you, he seemed rooted in his spot. One time, he made it all the way up to your table in the mess hall, but as soon as he was in front of you, the words died in his throat. All he could do was spin around with his tray of breakfast and make his escape, leaving you staring after him, confusion written all over your face.

Slider wasn’t the only one who had watched Iceman’s sudden romantic deterioration unfold. His crush was often the subject of “friendly” teasing from the other pilots, especially when they hoped you might be in earshot. (Thank god you never seemed to notice, fortunately.) Ice couldn’t even blame them, because even he was perplexed as to the loss of his ice-cold demeanor. It wasn’t like he hadn’t chatted up women before. He knew his way around one night stands, casual hookups, and even the odd semi-serious relationship or two. But he could tell there was something different, feeling drawn towards you in a way he never had before.

You could be a real menace in the air, an excellent wingman in a dogfight. He could see that you were definitely Top Gun bound at some point in your career. On the other hand, you lacked the cockiness and arrogance that he usually saw in the other accomplished pilots. You were kind, but not overly friendly, and you seemed to get along with pretty much everyone. And of course, you were a total knockout. Anyone could see that.

Ice just wished that he could push all of that out of his head for a second so he could properly talk to you.

Finding himself at the bar, he placed an order for another round, idly drumming his fingers on the wood as he scanned the room. There were so many sailors he recognized from the carrier, enjoying their short time on shore as best as they could. Slider had been hinting for weeks that this would be a great time to “make his move,” and Ice unfortunately had to agree with him. Spirits always seemed to be higher during leave.

The bar was both loud and rowdy, but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary until something across the bar caught Ice’s eye. He straightened up and turned in that direction, seeing something he hadn’t ever seen before: you frowning, and looking pissed the hell off. He leaned forward, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

You were seated at the bar, turned to face another sailor in his dress whites (how pretentious, Ice thought with a sneer), gesturing angrily at the beer in front of you. The sailor, who towered over not only you, but practically everyone in the bar, was rocking back and forth on his heels, a drunk and lecherous grin stretching his face. He leaned in, planting one hand on the bar and pointing back and forth between the two of you with his own beer as he responded.

Ice frowned as he watched, wondering what the hell that guy was doing. Clearly incensed by whatever he had to say, you stood up and went to leave, but stopped suddenly, almost as if you were jerked back. There was some flurry of movement he couldn’t see from his spot across the taps, but he felt his pulse start thundering when you tugged your arm up by your face. The sailor had wrapped his fingers around your wrist, so tight it had to hurt.

“Oh shit,” Ice mumbled as he pushed himself away from the bar, ignoring the looks people in the crowd gave him as he worked his way around to the other side. You tried to pull your arm away again, and while Iceman couldn’t make out what you were saying, he could hear your raised voice above the other patrons.

It only took Ice another few seconds to get to you, but when he laid eyes on you again, he came crashing to a halt.

It was almost like he saw it in slow motion.

You pulled back your free arm, hand balled into a fist, and without even a second’s hesitation, you let it land square in the middle of the guy’s face. Instantly, the man let go of your wrist and doubled over, clutching his face in pain. Blood was already spurting through his fingers as a couple of the surrounding sailors realized what he had done and dragged him off by his elbows, hopefully never to be seen again.

“Holy shit,” Ice whispered to himself in awe.

You glanced over at him, shaking out your hand. “Hey, Ice.”

“Shit, are you okay?” He cursed himself for not moving to check on you instantly.

You turned your head to watch the drunk man as he was thrown out, considering. “I’m pretty much fine.”

“I uh, came to rescue you,” he said lamely, the words sticking in his throat. “Guess you don’t really need a wingman now, huh?”

You snorted. “I’ve got it under control, I think. Splash one, and all that.”

You both laughed at that one.

And then you knocked Iceman flat out on his ass for a second time.

“You know, it would be nice if a man I was actually interested in bought me a drink tonight,” you said, very clearly eyeing him up and down.

After the shock passed over him, he flashed his signature dazzling smile, offering you his arm. “I could never be anything but nice to you.”

“Oh, I bet you’ll be real nice to me tonight,” you murmured into his ear as he led you to a booth.

You both pretended not to notice as Ice almost tripped over his own feet at that one.

#iceman #iceman x reader #iceman imagine #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #x reader #imagine