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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month

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Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(

But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌

That would be so sweet thank you’!!

this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3

BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!

it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.

you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.

except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.

you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.

your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.

since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.

your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”

you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.

“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.

you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.

you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.

“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.

your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,

and then his eyes open.

he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.

his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you

"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"

he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.

he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"

"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.

"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."

"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.

“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.

he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.

you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.

he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"

"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.

he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."

"katsuki, you need—"

"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.

it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.

"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.

once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.

he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.

"come over here." he whines petutalanty.

you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.

just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.

it’s your katsuki.

“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.

you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

it’s your katsuki, alright.

it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.

“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.

“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.

"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.

neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.

"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.

he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.

"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.

“was worried about you, you know.”

your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.

"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.

"i heard you really did a number on him."

"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.

you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."

katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.

"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."

"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.

"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”

your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.

but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.

you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.

not yet.

you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.

not yet.

finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.

"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.

“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”

you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.

“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.

“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.

this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.

you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.

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willowser · 1 year

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you don't know how much comfort your dragon king bkg drabble has given me ever since you posted it!! i keep reading it i love it sm 🥹

as it turns out, the man bakugou is — a bit harder to handle.

he sleeps like a heathen; you once thought the dragon bakugou to be a bit lazy, with how often he tended to curl up in the fields of grass, warm under the sun, but now — it would seem his little human form needs significantly less rest.

almost up all hours of the day, and when he does finally lay down, he's everywhere. a mess of limbs: one thrown carelessly out to the side and the other bent at an angle you can't believe doesn't hurt his joints. his head stays tucked into you somehow, either buried in your neck or pressed against your ribs — or you'll wake to find him nose-to-nose with you. he still snores like a dragon, however.

you're also beginning to wonder if there is a bottom to the pit of his stomach. he ate much before, whole fields of things, but you expected that appetite to dwindle, at least a little, now that his stomach has decreased considerably in size. and in number ? you're not even sure how many stomachs a dragon has; that's not something that was mentioned in the fairytales.

it burns through him quickly, gives him more energy than he needs, and it doesn't ever seem to affect his weight much. already, he's huge and thick with muscle and eating as much as he does never dulls the severity of his cut abdomen. not that you're looking all that much.

— not that you have a choice not to, as he seems to have little-to-no understanding of —

the door to the bathhouse kicks open, with enough force that you already know who it is without ever turning to look. you try not to shriek when you see him, because he seems to like that in some evil, impish way.

you've been alone to wash so far, thankfully, as the inn you'd managed to find was small and far enough out from the nearest kingdom that the occupancy was low — enough for you and your little brute.

the man bakugou comes to stand in front of the bath, blinking and huffing against the steam. finding clothes for him was — nearly impossible, and so the trousers you'd found hanging on someone's line outside fit above his ankles, a bit too tight around his waist. instead of a shirt, you've wrapped him in a scratchy linen, swaddled him up like a baby to cover the small smattering of scales that decorate his body, almost like freckles from the sun, though they gleam just as bright and red as they ever have. no matter his form.

a horn has started to sprout, on the right side of his forehead, and you've done your best to cover that, too.

you have no idea how long this man thing will last. if it's permanent or if he even has control over it. the last thing you need is for him to switch back, somehow, while you're in the middle of feeding him, absolutely demolishing whatever tavern you're in and calling all of king todoroki's guards to attention.

bakugou grunts, almost sleepy, and tosses a fat, weighty sack onto the edge of the bath. it jingles a certain jingle that makes your heart stop.

"oh, allfather—" you move for the edge, awkwardly keeping one arm against your chest despite the fact that he's seen it all by now. when you peek inside and confirm your fears, you lob it back to him furiously, as if it were a steaming potato. "where do you keep getting this stuff?"

things have started to turn up, miraculously. shiny things — like coins and rings and gems. things he could not have simply found rolling around in the dirt.

"go put it back!" you hiss at him, and the tone of your voice makes his frown deepen. you never realized how pouty he was, when he was still a dragon.

you think he understands you, and you're pretty certain he just chooses not to listen; instead of doing what you've told him in the slightest, he simply dumps the coin-purse to the floor, and then lets his linen and stolen trousers cover it as he unceremoniously undresses.

the biggest issue that you would say the man bakugou poses is — his complete lack of understanding of personal space.

"bakugou!" your voice wavers, shocked again by his nakedness. as if you haven't seen it all by now. "no, you — get out!"

but he does the exact opposite, which is hop into the steaming water, ignoring the arm you hold out to keep him away as he saddles up beside you. skin against scales, pressing a nose into your hair to huff out his annoyance, to make it something you can feel.

if anyone were to walk in right now, they would — probably think the lie you'd told the innkeeper was true. that you are a simple traveler and this is your mute, over-sized husband.

regardless, you think this behavior isn't polite. especially in a public bathhouse.

"bakugou," you try again, turning your face away as you speak to the wood-paneled wall. "i'm taking a bath, you have to wait your turn."

all you receive in response is another huff against your ear and a low rumble of disagreement from his chest.

he has yet to speak back, and has only used inhuman sounds as his points of conversation. the only word you've ever heard him utter is oi, which he does when he really thinks he needs your attention. you're starting to wonder if he's named you that in his head. oi.

curiously, you turn back to him and the movement has him pulling his face from your hair, just enough that he can look down at you, too. watch you, with the red-rippled sea in his eyes.

they're — amazing, you will admit. just as bright and detailed as they always have been. fit for a fairytale told by the fire, veiled by the soft-ash of his lashes. he watches you through them, half-lidded, and you wonder if it's something other than fatigue that has them so heavy.

"do you know what i'm saying?" you ask quietly, voice lacking the firm heat you want it to. instead it's heavy, too, weighted by something soft and unfamiliar and frightening. "can you even understand me?"

bakugou doesn't respond, not with a huff or a rumble or ever a purr, like the one he let out on the night he lay over you by the lake. you've only heard it sparingly since then, oftentimes in his sleep when his face is pressed into you.

you try not to frown at his silence, try not to let it disappoint you because it shouldn't; he's a dragon afterall, and you're not sure what it matters. the little horn protruding from his forehead catches your eye and you reach up to touch it gently, watching him blink away the water that drips from your wrist — and then he's turning into you again, too close.

beneath the water, you feel his hands skate up your bare thighs, wrap around your waist until your chest is pulled flush against his. you feel his huff, again, against the damp skin of your neck but it's slower, lighter. not laced with his frustration. some unknown thing you feel guilty for liking.

you drop your hand to his hair, rushing full force into all the damned things you've thought about doing but have been too afraid to. he's soft between your fingers, and you trace your nails lightly against his scalp until he groans quietly; a new noise, one you don't know how to translate.

your fingers stop when they brush upon little spines that have grown at the base of his skull, that have started to trail down the center of his back.

suddenly, tangled up in the bath with him, you wonder how much time you have left.

bakugou huffs again into your skin, a little fiercer this time, and it's because of his light jostling that you realize how rigid you've gone. you try to relax so that he will, too, though you must not do a convincing job, because a sharp nip comes to your earlobe.

"ow!" you squeal, but he doesn't let you go far, not even as you try to jerk away from him. in fact, the harder you try the more his teeth show: into your cheek and the point of your jaw and then dangerously low on your neck.

it's not until you finally freeze that he stops, huffing again, with a warmth that burns more than the steaming water.

and then, very quietly, he grumbles, "shitty wife," into your collarbone, just before biting you again.

#anon dear friend i am so happy you have enjoyed it !!! and that it has comforted you in some way !!#i am wrapping you up in a big hug and so is our bratty lil dragon🥹#this message was just so cute and i wanted to write more for you !!!#this is all for you my peach my plum 😌 thank you for being here and reading my silly things !! giving me a reason to share them !!!#how fuuuuunnnn i am enjoying him way too much LOL #he's a brat !! a biter !!! he does what he wants !!!#god this is going to become a thing on here isn't it LOL might as well start a tag because i have much more to say !!#the lil world-building i have done for this in my mind...you have no i dea LOL #thank you again dearest !!#he he he he said THIS IS MINE 😊#and by this he means YOU 👀#๑ remember me love: bakugou ๑ #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: bakugou

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tonberry-yoda · 1 month

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Love your writings! Enemies to lovers with our favourite capo? 👀

Enemies to Lovers - Bruno Bucciarati

notes - SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMFG! It's literally been in my ask box for a year dude. It might not be the best and I apologize, but nonetheless, it was still fun. I hope you enjoy, even if it's silly. word count - 861

You were told to kill Bruno Bucciarati.

It was part of the job. Kill important people, make lots of money. Easy right?

You looked at yourself in the mirror as you tied up your hair and hid a knife in a garter around your leg. You felt… pretty. You smiled at yourself and turned to look at your outfit.

A ball with mafia members wasn’t rare, and it wasn’t rare that you went to them. You had actually met Bruno on several occasions.

It was such a shame you had to kill the poor man.

He was kind. Kinder than a lot of people you had met on the job. Kind, but he hated you. You knew he did. The way he would look at you over his glass of champagne from across the room, you just knew he wanted to kill you.

Frankly, you didn’t like him much either. You weren’t supposed to be kind in the mafia. If he was supposed to be any sort of boss, he should act like one. You were busting your ass just to hope that you would get promoted while he was building his way up dressed like a model.

You felt really good about the night to come. Never had you been so… nervous about a job.

You walked to the car that was waiting for you just outside of your house and you crawled in, thanking the driver.

It wasn’t a long drive, just a stressful one. You could feel your hands shaking. You had done this a thousand times before, so why was it so hard all of the sudden? You took a deep breath as the car stopped in front of a large mansion. You thanked the driver again and stepped out. The knife you hid was still securely against your thigh, so you walked to the entrance without a second thought.

The ballroom was crowded. Full of thousands of members of the mafia trying to make deals and kill each other. The energy was ecstatic. You loved it.

You scanned the room trying to get something. Anything. Any sign that Bruno was there. He had to be there. You saw dozens of familiar faces, so where was he?

“Hello, y/n.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin hearing Bruno behind you. You turned around and smiled wryly at him.

“Bucciarati.” You nodded.

“How lovely to see you.” He smiled.

“You as well.”

“Champagne?” He held out a glass to you with golden, bubbly liquid.

You took it with a smile. “How considerate.” You took a long sip, not once taking your eyes off of Bruno. The knife on your leg was getting antsy.

“Would you care to dance?” Bruno asked.

He was making this easy for you… too easy. You gave him a side eye, but took his hand anyway, setting your drink down on the table, knowing that you would probably never see it again.

Bruno swept you onto the dance floor, perfectly wrapping his arm around your waste. Dare you think that he was trying to make you fall in love.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“What everyone else is doing here.” you answered vaguely.

“Always so clever.” he chuckled, shaking his head.

You two danced for a while. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest and give you away if you didn't do anything soon.

“Everything all right?” Bruno asked.

You smiled. “Mhm. Just fine.”

“It’s getting crowded in here,” he whispered in your ear. “Let’s take this to the garden.”

Now you knew that he had figured out something. You were screwed if you followed him, but you were even more screwed if you didn’t. You let him lead you to the garden and tried to keep some sanity. It was a simple job. It was the least you could do.

It was cold out. But the kind of cold that you enjoy after time in the beating sun. A chill ran down your spine, but you didn't mind it.

Bruno sat on a bench next to some daisies and patted the open spot next to him. You sat next to him and looked up at the stars and moon. Now or never.

“Who’s paying you to kill me?” Bruno asked.

You weren’t shocked.

“Can't tell you.” you said.

He hummed in response. “I see. Well, are you going to do it?”

You looked over at him and chuckled. “No, I don’t think so.”

“No? Don't tell me you’re going soft.”

You slowly took the knife out and twirled it in your hand. “Not soft. I just think I brought the wrong weapon.”

Bruno laughed and leaned back on the bench. “Some other time then?”

You looked at the knife. “Yeah. Some other time.”

You turned to pull the knife out on him, to actually get the job done, but Bruno planted a quick kiss on your cheek and disappeared.

That knife wouldn’t have been of much help anyway.

Strangely, you longed for the next meeting with Bruno. To perhaps actually get the job done with a better weapon and a long dance.

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) (4) | pinned post | ko-fi

2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

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wexhappyxfew · 2 months

Note

hey!! could i request "enjoying the sun that's warming their face" for whichever character/ship you're feeling? thank youuu 💕

hello anon! thank you so much for stopping by the askbox! and thank you even more so for sending in a prompt - i really loved getting to work with this prompt so so much and it honestly led me to a (1) new OC for MoTA and (2) writing with a new character from MoTA that I wanted to try some writing for! :) SO, i hope you enjoy the first introduction to WAC, Lieutenant Annie Chattaway from Mankato, Minnesota!

It was a wonder to Annie what a Lieutenant bar did to a man.

Not only did she watch men seem to hastily salute in her direction, or shove each other quickly to their feet, but they watched her with a shaky gaze before she kept on moving past.

The bright sunlight above seemed fit for arrival, her transport having dropped her by the entrance to Thorpe Abbotts, with Colonel Harding taking her in for introductions, hand-shaking and flattery. Now, with her belongings sorted out and her bearings gathered, she was in search of a few select names that Harding had graciously offered up.

"Looking for something special?"

The rumble of a military-grade jeep, fumes and all, pulled up beside her in a hurry, screeching to a halt, the breaks in need of a good oiling, and a smiley Major in the front seat. Annie halted for a moment there on the tarmac and offered a sweet smile, from behind the Raybands and her cap and stepped to the edge of the jeep.

"Depends on who's asking." she told him with a smile and a nod, before saluting.

"John Egan, uh, Major Egan," he said, another smile spreading on his lips, tilting his head to the side, "Bucky if you like." More widening of the grin.

"Pleasure to meet you, Major Egan," she said, dismissing his grinny self and stuck out a hand forward, "Lieutenant Chattaway, just in from Fort Des Moines. I've been assigned here, as a translator."

Major Egan made a show of raising his brow from behind his own pair of Raybands and leaned forward, arm up over the passenger's side of the jeep, hand on the steering wheel and smirked.

"Sounds like you got yourself into a nice gig," he said, "….translator, huh?" Annie stared at him from behind her Raybands. Right.

"Can I ask where your mess hall is, sir?" she asked him, side-stepping the translator question, "Colonel Harding mentioned it after introductions."

"Wanna hop in? I could give you a ride over, chat over coffee, hey, I'll even show you where the officers' club is." he said and then scooched back to his side and nodded to the seat, smiling, "Take it or leave it." Annie watched him for a moment and debated her options - ride with Major Egan, possibly get some coffee that he definitely knew the location of, or continue to wander around base looking like a sorry excuse for a bull in a china shop.

"Major."

Annie turned to behind her, following Major Egan's line of sight, and found a Captain walking towards them, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight, saluting Major Egan and then turning his eyes to her. He watched her for a moment, before she quickly saluted him, watching him quietly from behind her Raybands - tall, large stature, soft eyes.

To think he was a pilot by the way his peak cap covered his head, seeing all the war the planes brought to the air and the sky around.

"Brady, just in time," cooed Egan, jumping up from his seat in the jeep and coming towards the Captain - Brady - wrapping an arm around his shoulder and nodding, Brady slowly looking towards Egan with a tired look.

"This is Lieutenant Chattaway," Egan said with a nod to her, "didn't find the time for a first name, but I know it's there. She's gonna be translating." Brady eyed her for a moment.

"Pleasure to have you here, Lieutenant Chattaway." Brady said, nodding firmly, a quick itch of a smile on his face before disappearing and looking over to Egan, "Major Egan, I've been meaning to discuss with you-"

"Later." Egan said, clapping Brady on the shoulder, "right now, we gotta show Lieutenant 'No Name' Chattaway to the mess hall. Get her some grub." Brady glanced her way again - she stared right back at him through her Raybands and cleared her throat.

"It's fine really, sir," she said quickly, "I can find my way." She smiled slightly.

"Nah! Nah, c'mon, Lieutenant," Egan said, "look, here, Brady and I, consider us your personal tour guides-"

"Major-"

"C'mon, let's roll." Egan said and then gave Brady a clap on the shoulder and a wink and then moved back towards the jeep. The two watched him go before standing in silence.

Annie looked back towards Brady and found him already watching her; when he caught her eyes on him, he offered a small smile.

"You doing alright?" he asked her, the smile on his face soft, the sunlight bathing his face in a golden light; looking up towards him she put on her best smile and nodded.

"Yes, sir." she said firmly.

"He can be…." Brady trailed off and looked over her shoulder and nodded, "….yeah."

"It's fine, really, sir," she said, "seems like a fun guy." Brady grinned at her comment and nodded, before looking down.

"Probably best if we get in the jeep, before he starts well…." Brady smirked, "….you can probably guess." Brady imitated a little circle beside his head - before he starts going crazy, she seemed to finish it off in her mind. Annie smiled.

"Captain John Brady," he said, holding out his hand, "I know Major Egan introduced you as Lieutenant 'No Name' Chattaway, but that's-"

"Annie." she said, meeting his hand - warm as anything, encasing her own, firm, "Annie Chattaway." A loud beep-beep and a rumble of an engine appeared beside them with a slightly, pathetically disgruntled Major Egan in the front seat.

"C'monnn, let's goooo," he said, clapping his hands in front of him, "days changing to night, I think the first leaves of fall have come down." Annie looked back over to Brady and watched the small smile dart onto his face.

"What? Are you going to turn into a pumpkin, sir?" Annie questioned turning to him and moving towards the passenger side, before climbing right in the back, looking over to Egan who was smirking at her - she glanced then at Brady, "Will you be joining us, Captain?" Brady looked to her and then offered her a smile and climbed in the passengers' side.

"What would happen if I turn into a pumpkin, huh?" Egan called over his shoulder, "You hear that, Brady, she thinks I'll turn into a pumpkin!" He started up the jeep.

"I think a pumpkin is being generous, sir!" Brady called back over the roar of the jeep as they moved towards the barracks. Annie smirked to herself and admired the life around base - the Land Army women, the townsfolk, the pilots, the airmen, the ground crews, the sky, the sun, the trees. The world as they knew it.

"So, Chattaway, where you from? Wisconsin? Harding mentioned something or other..." Egan called over his shoulder, "They make cheese right?"

"Minnesota, sir!" Annie called back, "Mankato!"

"Never been!" Egan called over his shoulder, "Should show me how to make The Bootleg - you know….. they said F. Scott Fitzgerald would sip on some of those."

"Really." muttered Brady unenthusiastically from beside him.

"Oh, cheer up, Brady, you could be getting The Bootleg tonight - you'd be thanking me for it, too." Egan called as they pulled up to the front of mess, "Right, we're here." Egan turned to look over his shoulder at her and grinned.

"Liking the view?" Annie offered a smile.

"Thorpe Abbotts is beautiful, sir," she said glancing to the sky, "I'll be excited to see the mess hall." Egan grinned and gave Brady another shoulder slap.

"You'll be pleased as peaches to see coffee," Egan said hoping out and turning to her, laughing to himself, "I mean, I know I always am." Brady moved out and straightened out his pants before glancing over his shoulder and turning towards her.

"It's nothing more than watered down G.I. coffee, but it's something," he said as Annie slowly shifted forward, "Major Egan just gets excited when there's still extra by midday."

"Don't be telling my secrets now, Brady," Egan said pointing to him, "it's a precious commodity, we don't go saying that around here." Annie smiled to herself and then slowly stood, placing her hands on the edge of the jeep before noticing a hand appear.

Looking up, Brady was stood there, watching her with the sun warming his softened face. She smiled at him, gratefully taking his hand, letting him help her step down onto the ground. It was only a few seconds more before the two were dropping their hands and Major Egan was making a show of pointing up to the mess hall and going on about something or other about a beer bottle being thrown at the wall - but as Annie followed quietly behind both Egan and Brady, she noticed the clench of Brady's hand there.

The one that had touched her own.

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cerise-on-top · 4 months

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Hi! I hope you've been doing alright!

I was wondering if you could possibly write something for Valeria comforting reader having a bit if a meltdown. Something along the lines of reader being overwhelmed by their job and just the emotions that come with the end of the year, and having Valeria just hug them, maybe do something sweet like surprising them with their favorite treat, etc. because she had been noticing the way reader had been a bit off. essentially some fluffy hurt/comfort <//3

I don't know if that's a bit much, but you're welcome to say no! Anyways, I just want to let you know that your writing is incredibly awesome and I hope that the new year treats you well! You put out a lot of great content but i really hope you're not overworking yourself either, make sure to take breaks and take care of yourself and yeah, ♡

-☆

Anon, unless you tell me to either write the most gruesome thing imaginable or straight up something that is not meant for minors, then I have no problem with any request! I tried to make it good, but I've always struggled with writing dialogue, and for that I am genuinely sorry! I hope it's still enjoyable enough, though! It's more of a fic again than anything else, at a good 3.000 words! I'm wishing you a good 2024 and that the new year may treat you more kindly than the current one has! Best of everything to you, anon! And best of everything to everyone else too, of course!

Valeria Comforting Reader

You had always been a strong person in Valeria’s eyes. You had to be in order to be with someone like her, after all. Caring for someone so vile in many people’s eyes, knowing fully well of her business, it was in spite of all of that you stayed with her. The way she could come home to you, giving it your all at work, giving her that kind smile of yours she was certain she didn’t quite deserve, it made even someone of her caliber a bit softer than usual. For as little as she cared about anyone else, wishing to have most people’s head on a stake at this point, if you gave her the command, she’d burn down every inch of this sorry planet just to see you smile again, just to watch the flames of life dance in your eyes. And from the ashes she’d raise something new, something better than what was right now. Valeria knew she could count on you, no matter what, but she hoped you did the same for her too.

Your eyes used to be full of vivacity, so lively whenever you got to see her, there was you trilling a song like a nightingale when you made her a cherry pie, from time to time she had to shut you up considering you never stopped talking whenever she came home. Bloody Valeria, who knows how many people she has killed? How many people would continue to suffer because of her selfishness? She had been called many things, a witch, a wench, a worthless wanton. But in those beautiful eyes of yours? The way you’d call her over, using sickeningly sweet nicknames in Spanish you picked up from somewhere. “Mi alma, mi tesoro, how is the most beautiful wife in this universe doing?” Granted, Valeria cringed when you suddenly started speaking Spanish to her of all people, but even so, she had to admit, you were so adorable, leaving her no choice but to respond in nothing but Spanish for the evening to compensate.

But even among the lovely banter the two of you often found yourselves in, it wasn’t enough to keep the light in your eyes from extinguishing. Your beautiful voice became rarer and rarer until you only spoke when spoken to. Whereas Valeria would once need to tell you to stop hugging her in public, these days she was happy if you as much as grabbed her hand while you were both seated on the couch. What happened to you? She wanted to know, she needed to know, but you wouldn’t budge. Whatever weighed on you took its toll on you, it wasn’t something Valeria could just fix with money, it seemed. A forced smile, empty eyes. Ever since you started that new job of yours a while ago, it seemed to never end for you.

Even as she sent one of her trusted people out to check on you, you were wary, knowing fully well about the dangers Las Almas posed to anyone living there, especially Valeria. You did not hesitate to tell her about that odd person coming to your workplace, that man could have been anyone, could have killed her. She was grateful, to have you be this open with her on a matter that concerned her, but in the same breath she cursed you for not taking better care of yourself. If she could, she would have come to your workplace to kill your boss, your superior, anyone giving you a hard time yourself. But alas, Los Vaqueros were on her heels again. And thus, she fled for another few weeks, leaving you alone in your unbearable misery. By no means was Valeria a traditionally affectionate person, but if she had to be more “normal” in that regard to see your happiness again, she could try.

The new year seemed nice around this year, with the first of January being on a Monday. The beginning of the year was also the beginning of a new week. Valeria could have stalled for time, waiting until it was midnight, but she decided to come home to you without intervention this time. That she decided until she found a small bakery, run by an elderly lady and her husband, that she had known for a while. Evening of the 30th, the shop was just about to close up when Valeria drove by, stopping right in front of it. The couple didn’t seem to mind her being here this late, giving her the usual wishes for a new year. May she be healthy, may she be happy. Lovely, if only such a thing would hold true for you instead. The wares seemed promising, obviously homemade. The bright, white cake with the strawberries on top seemed to catch her eyes. There weren’t many baked goods left, namely some cakes, some cookies and some rolls, but that tres leches looked delicious.

It didn’t take long for her to have bought the little treat. Enough for you, enough for her. Maybe such could cheer you up, if just a little bit.

The night was cold this time, with the clouds not covering a single bit of the sky. The moon was waning once again, leaving behind the world for its own purposes, leaving it in the dark where anyone and anything could be hiding. For all Valeria knew, someone could decide to try and pick a fight with her right now. Someone would die, but it wouldn’t be her. Never her, she had someone to come home to, after all. Whatever slug decided to rob her on a night like this, they would come to regret their mother’s birth. However, as she got closer to your little abode, she couldn’t help but worry. What if it wasn’t her to get hurt, but you instead? By no means would that be likely, hidden away like the treasure you were, for her eyes only, but it wasn’t impossible. Valeria pressed harder on the gas pedal.

Only when she saw the lights on this late did she finally calm down a bit. You were home, everything seemed in order. With the cake in one hand and her keys in the other, she unlocked the door, pushing it open. She had every reason to be mad at the incompetence she had to work with on the daily, but somehow, she had even more reason to be worried about you. Her worries were only reinforced when she heard quiet sobs coming from the living room. Normally, she’d burst right in, her revolver in hand. But this time? No weapon in the world could fight your demons, she could only watch as you tried your hardest to fight another day, to make it through alive and somewhat well.

Slowly, she opened the door this time as well, making just enough noise for you to take notice of her. Like a deer in headlights, you stared at her, choking back another sob. Clearly, you didn’t expect her to be home this early at all, but it didn’t matter. You seemed scared, ashamed even, as your mouth hung open, trying to find the right words to say. Regardless of what it was that would leave your mouth, Valeria wouldn’t get mad, not this time. Having put down the tres leches, she turned to you, approaching you slowly so as to not startle you. Your eyes were red and puffy, your voice hoarse as you finally spoke. You wiped away your tears, giving her a forced smile, like you had been for a while.

“Valeria, welcome back! How are you doing?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, trying your hardest to not make it as obvious that you had been crying. A futile attempt, but an attempt nevertheless. If she could have, Valeria would have wrung out your little heart, ridding you of your demons if just for this weekend, but alas. Sitting down next to you on the couch, she took one hand of yours in hers, the other arm slung around your shoulders.

“Cariño, what’s the matter? I’m not mad, I promise, I just wanna know.”

Your mouth formed an o, clearly trying to think of a bullshit excuse she wasn’t going to buy anyway. “Be honest with me!” Valeria’s voice was calm, even if she could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her. Whatever was eating at you, gnawing at your mind and your heart, you were going to tell her, preferably tonight.

Holding onto her hand, you squeezed it, looking away for a moment. She had her nails done that pretty pink again, the color you always liked so much on her. But even so, it was apparent you didn’t know what to say. Rather sooner than later, you had to come clean to her eventually. You had joked about it, but one of these days Valeria might just interrogate you for your mental wellbeing, counterproductive as that might be. Tears welled up in your eyes again as you bit your lips, hoping to seem just a tad bit less pathetic than before. Valeria was so strong, you had always been a joke in comparison.

“You know, you’re actually really tough, Valeria. You’re always on the move, always evading the bad guys, always doing what needs to be done in order for the both of us to have a good life. But look at me: I can’t even work properly without my co-workers trampling all over me. Every day I have to endure things that no one wants to put up with, every day I can’t say no to them even if I tried. Sometimes I do wish I was more like you, really. It’s just… I haven’t accomplished anything. Nothing I do seems to matter. This year was awful, and I have little hope that the next one will be any better. As much as I love you, Valeria, and you know that I adore you, I hope you’ll find someone better next year. Someone who’s worthy of having you around, someone who won’t bitch and cry over every single little thing. I’m a weak and pathetic little loser who’s nothing like you. Can’t say no, and it’s slowly killing me. I want to just run away forever, never to be seen again, and become a cryptid of sorts. I fucking hate myself, I hate this miserable, shitty planet I was born on, and I hope next year is going to be my last! I don’t think I can make it through another one.”

For a second, even Valeria was quiet, not thinking it was going to be this bad. She knew you were unhappy, but she didn’t think you were hoping to die this soon. You and her had your entire lives ahead of you, preferably together. There was no way Valeria could let something like this just slide. This was something big and important, not something you should just sweep under the rug and never talk about.

Valeria removed her arm and hand from yours, only to grab your face, cradling it somewhat roughly, to make sure you would look at her. Despite never having been an emotional person, this was important. You were going to look at her, no matter how much you protested, wanting to look away, and you were going to listen too.

“Don’t you dare say something like this ever again, you hear me? You’re going to live alongside me, and you’re going to live well. If I have to kill all of your co-workers myself, I will. You’re the last person that should die on this rotten planet. I had to live this long without you in it, you’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it. But don’t you fucking dare ever think about dying again, alright? If your boss is a bastard, who gives a shit. Same for your co-workers. You need a job? A good one you’ll enjoy with nice people? Cariño, I can get you in just about anywhere. You wanna work at a bakery? At an elementary school? You wanna work an office job? Hell, if you want I’ll make sure you’ll get to do home office whenever you need it too, but you’re not going to leave me alone just like that. The next year is going to be good to you, and it won’t be a matter of if. It’ll be a matter of when, and at my command, a good year for you will start on Monday, and that’s final.”

Her voice was almost loud, she was clearly mad. Not at you, you could never do any wrong in her eyes, but at the people who made you feel this way about yourself, about everything regarding you. It scared you, you wanted to pull away, but her grasp on you grew stronger. She meant well, you knew that much, but never did you think you could make her this mad. You were gentle, you were kind, and that also showed in how Valeria would treat you. You weren’t some kind of replaceable lackey, Valeria would never find someone like you again.

Your eyes were wide in fear and Valeria’s expression softened up a bit. “Look, I’m sorry for scaring you like that. But I need you to understand that you’re scaring me too when you say things like that. We’ll get through this together. You quit your job, we’re gonna find you a new one with good people that you can enjoy. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you next year, that I’m going to make sure myself. I’ll try to take off more days, try to get more time for you so we can be together. But please don’t do anything too rash, please don’t do anything dumb. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I lost you. Alright?”

Once again, you teared up, but this time you couldn’t look away either, Valeria was still holding you.

“Alright?”

“Alright, fine. Valeria, I’m so sorry.” Your voice was quiet, broken by your current circumstances. When was the last time someone cared about you like this? Valeria was the most dangerous woman in the country, and yet here she was, comforting a little no one like you who happened to meet her by happenstance. You didn’t bite back your sobs this time, letting it all out instead. It’s not like it was the first time she had ever seen you cry, but you wished it would be the last time. This was humiliating, even if your wife had found you in much worse situations. You closed your eyes, letting your tears fall freely.

“Please don’t apologize.” She placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before giving you a long and tight hug. A token example of how she cared for you. Despite not being one for physical affection, even she couldn’t deny you a hug when you were downright miserable. Although she wasn’t usually very warm, something about tonight, maybe it was the feeling of being disposable, made you feel warmer than usual. Valeria was by no means a kind woman normally, but somehow, you got to see this side of her that was unknown to everyone else. You knew she was the one for you.

Maybe leaving her alone would have been such a cruel thing of you after all. The way she held you when she was drunk, the way she’d kiss you when she finally got home after months of not seeing you, the way she’d look at you when she thinks you aren’t looking, it was all reminiscent of a fantasy you dreamed about when you were younger. Maybe you really didn’t need a hero, the villainess worked just fine for you. She held you like you were the most worthwhile treasure in the world. A hero would never do that, a hero would likely die to attain some silly goal. Valeria was different from that, she would litter the world with the corpses of those who wronged you. It was a challenging sort of love, but it was love nevertheless. You wanted to show her the same kind of love. Maybe you weren’t ready to kill someone for her just yet, but if it ever came down to it, maybe you could try to live again. Perhaps not for yourself as you were right now, but for Valeria. She was worth more than a planet made of pure diamonds.

Eventually, your sobs turned to sniffles, your sniffles died down. Valeria never stopped holding you until you had finally calmed down. It felt surprisingly good, letting it all out for once, not having to worry about being judged. Not many words were exchanged that evening, but they were sincere. Valeria loved you, you loved Valeria, it was that simple. You were going to remind yourself of that fact for the rest of eternity if you had to. Until you never had to actively think about that again, until it was that ingrained into your mind.

“Do you want some tres leches? I got some just for you on the way back home.”

You still held onto her shoulders, giving her the first proper smile of the evening. “You spend too much money on me, and you know it.” You playfully and lightly hit her chest, giving her a bashful look. “But, you know, I wouldn’t say no to it either.”

“There’s that beautiful smile, mi bello amor.” Once again, she cradled your face, this time much more gently than before. Once again, she gave you a quick kiss to your cheek before getting up to get the cake. Naturally, you followed suit, allowing her to take the lead as she always had. “Do you want the big piece or the small one?”

“I want you to have the big piece for being the best wife out there!”

“Wrong answer, you get the big one.” And with that, two plates and two forks had been prepared, each filled with some delicious, beautiful cake.

#cod #cod x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #this year has been quite something but I can't say it's been my worst one yet #anyway more valeria content again <3 #she's such a popular character on this blog but I don't mind that in the slightest #I'm just glad I get to write for the girls and make sure they're loved as well #I'm also glad I got to pick up writing again as a hobby it really helps me a lot with feeling better #even if it can be overwhelming at times haha #anyway some lovely and soft Valeria for once even if she would kill someone for you #but that's just classic Valeria for you!#please enjoy anon and thank you for the request!#happy 2024 to everyone!

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prince-liest · 2 months

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i love how your alastor is perpetually amused by vox’s antics but also constantly endeared by loser himself too … like hes Soft abt that man fr

-🦌

The "I think his patheticness is hilarious" to "I think his patheticness is endearing" pipeline is real when you're also 1) enabling the pathetic guy to obsess after you because it's feeding your ego and 2) are not used to people trying to do things to genuinely care for you rather than the other way around.

Vox took him off guard by immediately sublimating his rivalry into genuine (if typically dickish and interspersed with psychosexual obsessive tendencies) affection the moment he was given the opportunity, and Alastor was not prepared for it.

#personal #ask #deer anon #my writing #ehehe THANK YOU!!#t #i really enjoy writing this dynamic tbqh

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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can plz I request homelander waking up reader in the middle of the night bcuz he’s hôrnyyy !!

18+, f!reader, somnophilia. Homelander doesn't need much sleep. Vought always chalked it up to being simply unnecessary, given the sheer amount of Compound V in his system. Whether he sleeps for two hours or eight, his powers function just the same. That was all that ever mattered to them. It was better that way. Fewer nightmares. And then you came along, and that began to change. The nightmares lessened. Nowadays, he generally sleeps however long you do, but old habits die hard. Tonight, Homelander finds himself wide awake at about three in the morning, cuddled up against your back.

Homelander sighs, nuzzling at the back of your neck, then your bare shoulder. The weight of you in his arms is a constant, warm comfort, the smell of you intoxicating. He's not even sure if he could sleep at all without you anymore. Even the way you snore endears him. Absently, he begins to run his hand along your naked side, tracing the slopes of your body from your ribs to your outer thigh, then back up. He's always run warmer than you. He can feel little goosebumps prickling along your skin where he touches you, featherlight and perhaps a little ticklish. He can't believe how soft you are. At times he feels like every curve of you was made for him. Given the chance, he can't help but explore you. You make a soft sound in your sleep, giving him pause. The corner of his mouth quirks slightly. Hmm... Homelander kisses the junction between your neck and your shoulder, ghosting his hand back down your body. On the slide back up, he cups your breast. He thumbs gently at your nipple, coaxing it hard. His cock gives an answering throb at the feel of it, of your body responding to him involuntarily, even in your sleep. "Babe," he whispers against your skin. No response. He licks his lips, his own heart rate picking up. It's beginning to feel like an exciting game of sorts. He moves his hand a touch more firmly down your body, over your stomach, and down further until his fingertips brush your clit. He begins rubbing slow, gentle circles while kissing a line from your shoulder to your throat. And then you moan so very sweetly, a breathy sound pulled from you, even as you sleep. Homelander bites down hard on his tongue, holding you against him as he grinds against the curve of your ass. He's achingly hard now, riled up by his little game far more than he expected to be. "Babe," he murmurs, louder now. "Honey... Wake up," he says, breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rubs a little firmer between your thighs, coaxing you in more ways than one. With a sharp inhale, you finally wake, bleary and confused. "Mmm, wha—Nnnngh..." you moan, reflexively grabbing him by the wrist. You feel hot all over, coming out of sleep with a feverish need already in full gear. Your mind practically runs a gauntlet to catch up. Homelander exhales a heated sigh along your neck. He uses the arm crooked under you to catch hold of your jaw and turn your head to face him, leaning over to kiss you fervently. "Need you," he murmurs between kisses. "Body so goddamn perfect, you know that? Fuck, couldn't help myself," he says, the words tumbling out in an urgent stream of hunger.

Still half asleep, you reach between your legs, beyond his hand, and grasp blindly at his cock, surprising a breathless little moan out of him. Parting your thighs, you guide his cock between them, and then tighten them back together. You press your hand overtop his. "Don't stop," you tell him, voice wrung with sleep and arousal in equal parts. Immediately, Homelander resumes massaging circles over your clit, stopping only briefly to bring his hand up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth to wet them before he puts them right back to work. Simultaneously, he starts thrusting against you, fucking the plush, warm space between your thighs, your cunt wet and perfectly soft along the top of his cock. "Uuhhnn, fuck, fuck," he moans, moving his hand from your jaw to your throat, holding you firm against him as his pace quickens, thrusts turning jagged the closer he climbs to his release. He's bringing you to the edge with him, fingering your clit with such deft precision that you're starting to feel lightheaded— though that could also be from the divine grip he has on your throat. "John," you whimper, clinging to both of his wrists, your skin pricking, pressure building. You're fully awake now, but helpless to the onslaught of pleasure. "Oh, god, John. That feels so f-fucking good, gonna make me— make me—" Homelander doesn't get to hear the rest of it, but he feels it. He feels your whole body lock up like a vice, your hold on his wrists tightening, your nails biting ineffective crescents into his invulnerable skin. He feels your clit throb wildly, but it's your pussy soaking and convulsing along the top of his cock that hurls him over the precipice of his own release. He comes messily into the space between your thighs, load after load spilling out from between them, dripping down your skin. He forgets to breathe for a solid minute, the orgasm shaking him to his core. Finally, he sucks in a shaky breath, exhaling roughly as he gently rocks his hips into the wet mess he's made of your thighs, relinquishing his hold on your throat, burying his face into your neck. The two of you spend a few moments just breathing, gradually floating down from the high of it, peaceful silence falling over you both. Homelander nuzzles you, smiling dreamily in the aftermath of his pleasure. "Good morning," he murmurs, kissing your neck. You lift your head just enough to catch a look at the clock. "Absolutely not," you respond, words half slurred. "It's barely 4AM. Get me a towel, I'm going back to sleep," you inform him, putting your head right back down on the pillow. Homelander laughs, adjusting his arms around you to embrace you, squeezing you briefly against him. "Pretty good way to wake up if you ask me." "Try it again in four hours," you respond, jelly-limbed in his arms. Homelander grins, broad and predatory. "Is that permission?" "Mmmhm," you hum, already forgetting about the mess between your legs as you fade back into sleep, walloped by one of the most intense orgasms of your life. "Perfect," Homelander purrs, kissing your cheek. "Sleep tight." Now he's really got something to look forward to.

#oh my god i meant for this to be short but it ended up taking up the majority of my night LMAO #sorry i'm on a somnophilia kick i guess!!!#i will answer the other asks this week haha thanks for sending in so many good ones my lovelies!!!#homelander x reader #homelander x you #ask and you shall receive #darling anon #smut #i cannot proofread to save my life but enjoy!#my writing

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galaxywhump · 5 months

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Prompt: Wren doing something that's blatantly stupid/suicidal (like going out into the jungle to pick fights with the wildlife) when he becomes apathetic about his own life, and Daniel's reaction to that?

[SV-240 masterlist]

Thank you for the prompt, anon! Sorry it's so late, it's been in the making for a while now and I finally got the motivation to finish it.

Warning: this is a rather heavy one; it's also not canon.

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, suicide attempt (nothing graphic), depression, restraints, comforted by whumper.

~~~

Wren leaves the house without Daniel’s knowledge.

He still has the tracker, of course, but when he left, Daniel was napping, so hopefully he won’t wake up for a few more hours. Wren just wants to go for a swim in the picturesque pond he remembers the path to. He’s unarmed, without so much as a kitchen knife, but he’s not scared. He’s not anything.

There is an emptiness inside of him that has had a grip on him for several weeks now. It’s the sort of hopelessness he’s been trying so hard to avoid, but instead of making him Daniel’s loving partner, it’s only making him… do this. Go for a walk in the jungle, looking straight ahead, not scanning his surroundings, barely flinching when he hears rustling and other sounds of the dense forest.

He’s had these thoughts a few times before, but now he’s decided to follow them. Not directly, even though he knows there are several options inside the house; instead, he lets fate decide, since it seems to control his life anyway. So he goes for a swim. If fate decides he should stay underwater, he won’t fight it, nor will he fight if it decides not to let him reach the pond at all.

He’s clothed, and yet feels so exposed, a puny human in a jungle full of animals he knows nothing about, having only met one, which tried to kill him. Maybe there are others like it. Maybe one is already stalking him.

Keep walking, not running, walking with calm emptiness. Get away from Daniel’s house, leave his life on the jungle’s mercy. He frowns when he feels a small pang of regret. He should turn back. He should live. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? He’s far enough that the way back would be anything but safe, and he doesn’t want Daniel to question him once he returns. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, and keeps walking.

There are noises all around him.

There’s a noise somewhere behind him.

Soft steps, a low growl. He’s being stalked.

He closes his eyes.

And then there’s a familiar man-made sound, cracking bolts of plasma piercing the air; one followed by the sound of the animal fleeing, one hitting a tree just a few centimeters left of Wren, making him jolt in place.

“Hi there,” he hears Daniel’s voice, almost playful. He swallows and slowly turns around to face his captor, who’s standing still with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed.

“You missed,” Wren says, lifting his chin, though there is nothing more to his defiance, no spark in his eyes.

“If I wanted to shoot you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” There is no affection in Daniel’s voice, and Wren prefers it this way. “Have you forgotten about your tracker?”

“No.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows.

“What was even your plan?”

“I went for a walk,” Wren explains, looking him straight in the eye; his expression remains empty.

“Good one,” Daniel scoffs. “You know you’d be dead before the day’s over, don’t you?”

“I do.”

The silence that follows is unbearably heavy. Daniel gets it, and for a split second he looks genuinely surprised before going back to his usual unbothered expression.

“Come here. Let’s go home.”

Wren doesn’t break eye contact.

“And if I run?” he asks. “Will you miss again?”

“I’ll shoot, but I won’t kill you. I’ll target your leg, maybe both, and I’ll drag you back. Now come here.”

He does, his head lowered, brow furrowed, mind blank. The jungle around them is bustling with life, never completely quiet, yet the silence between them feels suffocating enough that it could spread over the entire forest, forcing it into stupor. Neither of them says a single word on the way home.

Home. Wren sighs. Home. Daniel’s house is his home now, there’s no denying that. He’s too tired to deny anything anyway, not to mention worry about what Daniel’s going to do to him after his stunt.

They’re still silent when they reach the house and the door closes behind them. Wren follows Daniel to the living room, sits down on the couch, and watches him retrieve two pairs of leather cuffs.

“You’ll have to be restrained more after this, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Wren puts his arms in front, wrists close together, and does the same with his ankles. The cuffs close, a familiar sensation, and he stares down at them, barely feeling anything.

“It’s for your own safety.” Daniel doesn’t crouch down, doesn’t sit next to Wren, still standing in front of him, towering over him.

“Yeah,” Wren repeats, his voice monotone; he only wants this pointless conversation to end, and Daniel can sense it, which doesn’t mean he cares.

“Look at me.”

When he does, Daniel frowns seeing the weary emptiness in his eyes.

“Why did you do it?” he asks, and his accusatory tone makes Wren flinch, like he’s being scolded. It’s the last thing he wants to experience today.

“Take a guess,” he mutters, lowering his gaze, as if even looking up requires too much energy.

Daniel sighs and his frown deepens. He knows the truth, as much as he doesn’t want to accept it.

“I won’t let you do that, Wren.”

“I know. Cause I have nowhere to run, right?” For the first time today, there is something in Wren’s voice, the tiniest of sparks. “I can’t fucking escape you and this-this fucking nightmare, I’m stuck here and you won’t even- you won’t even let me-” He gets choked up, and to his frustration he tears up. “Fuck, just fucking hold me already and spew your bullshit, I know you’re going to do it anyway.”

Without a word, Daniel sits down next to Wren, who leans against him and exhales slowly when Daniel embraces him.

“I’m not going to spew any bullshit. I just…” Daniel trails off for a moment and gives Wren a light squeeze. “I wasn’t expecting this, and it hurts.”

“Oh, it hurts you?” Wren laughs in disbelief. “Poor you, the guy you’re keeping captive and torturing is a depressed loser. Cry me a river.”

“It hurts me because I love you, Wren.”

“You said you weren’t going to spew bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit to me, and I hope that soon it won’t be bullshit to you, either.” Daniel sighs, a heavy sigh that makes Wren even angrier, which he knows is, at the very least, better than complete emptiness. Daniel doesn’t have the right to feel and react this way, not when he’s the cause of all of this. “And remember that you were depressed even before I bought you.” He feels Wren tense up at that. “You can’t pretend otherwise, it was right in your file. Depressed, isolated, drinking problem. You were lonely, and that made it possible for Berkeley to make you disappear without raising any eyebrows. Now you’re here, I’m here with you, I know about your problems, and I want to help. On my terms and at my pace, but I do.”

“You’re not helping,” Wren croaks, trying and failing to blink away tears, Daniel’s blunt words feeling like a dagger piercing his heart, over and over again. “I wasn’t- It was better than this, I wanted to get better, I just…”

He just couldn’t, and it was only getting worse, until he started spending entire hours - he was too busy to afford days - curled up in his bed, staring at the wall, questioning the point of it all, and he was alone, completely alone, and-

“On Earth, I wouldn’t have been there to stop you.”

Daniel’s words are like a punch to the face, strong enough that Wren would sway on his feet if he wasn’t sitting down. It’s true, he realizes in horror, and a painful sob reverberates through his body; he slumps in Daniel’s embrace, overwhelmed by the most terrifying what if he’s ever had to consider.

“Shh, sweetheart.” Daniel gently runs his hand up and down Wren’s arm and pulls him closer as he sobs, unable to stop, because Daniel is right, and he was so stupid, and in a twisted way he almost let Daniel win.

What could have been back on Earth doesn't matter anymore. Here, if he dies, Daniel wins. It’s a way to escape, but it comes at too great a cost, and now that he can think more or less clearly again, he can’t believe he even attempted that. So stupid, so stupid, and if it wasn’t for Daniel, the very same person he's fighting against, he wouldn’t be here right now.

He won’t thank Daniel, he can’t, but he leans into his touch ever so slightly, and he’s still crying, so overwhelmed by what he almost did and so relieved that he’s still here, still fighting.

“Cry it out, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

For the first time, though he would never admit it out loud, he’s grateful for that.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab @funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter @as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump @kixngiggles @ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words @pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp @there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#slavery whump #forced relationship whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #suicide tw #suicide cw #creepy comfort #depression whump #restrained #sv-240 #wren rackham #daniel rooney #my writing #so much time passes between updates i forget all my tags #anyway thank you for the prompt anon i really loved it!#writing this was really cathartic and i hope you enjoy

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stuffeddeer · 6 months

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haii deer i hope you are able to get all your assignments done on time! was reading your tags and aro dazai?? big brain.

so how about aro ace darling? never been in a relationship and never really want to, their friends are more than enough for them !! honestly i just wanna be aro buddies with dazai 🥹

but damn just being weirdo coworkers together, im,,, willing to look past many red flags for him 💔

YOURE JUST LIKE ME FR dazai and i are best friends and we are aro you can ask him yourself also weirdo coworkers.. you get it

"Oh, wait, so you were the latest person hired?" Atsushi's head cocked to the side, looking at you with curiosity. "How long have you been here?"

"My dear here has been with the agency for three months! You know, I was the one that brought them on board," Dazai gloated, a smug smirk on his face and a dramatic hand over his heart.

You were quick to play along, throwing a dramatic hand over your forehead as you leaned back. "Oh, my hero! What would I do without my lovely Dazai?" The sarcastic lilt in your tone didn't go unnoticed by the newest agency member, but he decided not to comment on it.

"Was it like what happened with me? Did you find Dazai drowning?" Apparently a common occurrence, Atsushi had pieced together.

Dazai denied, a smile on his face as he replied with a simple, "Nope!" A few moments of silence passed before the junior realized he wasn't going to elaborate.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask for more information, you decided to take pity on the poor soul and fill him in. "I bailed him out of a holding cell."

No one bat an eye. Atsushi looked around the office, trying to see if maybe someone was holding back laughter, but not a single one of his new coworkers were phased. Did they not hear what you said?

"He got detained for public disturbance in the middle of a case. I told Dazai he'd have to find a way to get out on his own, and he shows back up not even thirty minutes later with them in tow," Kunikida explains, frustration evident in his voice. "I was trying to teach him a lesson."

"I was in the area," you shrug.

"Yeah, being detained as well..."

"I was being released from detainment, actually!" You correct Kunikida, a proud grin on your face. "And Dazai said I should follow him, so I did."

Atsushi laughed awkwardly. He knew you seemed similar to Dazai in your hedonistic pursuits, but this was baffling. "And the president hired you?"

"I had an entrance exam, but pretty much! I had just been fired from my old job the day before so Dazai helped me get set up here. And before you ask: I was fired because I told the boss' kid I wouldn't date him. He got all upset and told daddy to can me," you huff in frustration, still annoyed at your wrongful termination.

Kunikida rolled his eyes. "Don't act like some martyr; You also deserved to be fired. You just messed around on the job like you do here. You barely got any work done."

"You want me so badly it makes you look stupid—"

"I told them to sue and say it's discrimination because they're aro," Dazai cut you off, a pout on his lips like he's annoyed you didn't take his advice.

"What's... arrow?" Atsushi cocked his head to the side. He was unaware of the terminology, having never come across it in this context during his studies at the orphanage.

"Oh, it's shorthand for aromantic. It just means, like, experiencing little to no romantic attraction to anyone. It varies, of course..." You try to explain simply.

Atsushi nods, understanding the basic idea. "But it'd be wrong to lie about your sexuality, right?"

"I'm aro, actually," you shrug. Everyone at the agency is well aware, so Atsushi will likely find out eventually.

"Oh!" The younger employee's cheeks turn pink, feeling a little sheepish for assuming. A moment passes as Atsushi thinks before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "I thought you and Dazai..?"

"We're both aromantic," Dazai rests his chin on his hand, elbow on his desk and an amused smirk pulling at his lips. "I've dated a lot in the past, but I realized it's just not for me."

"I've never been in a relationship and never want to," you add in yourself. "Aromanticism is... much more complex than how I explained it. Dazai feels romantic attraction, but doesn't— Is it fine if I tell him this?" You suddenly ask, realizing it really isn't your place to speak on his experience, even as his best friend.

"Oh, I don't care. Saves me the trouble," Dazai waves his hand dismissively. "But yeah, I feel romantic attraction, but lose it when it's reciprocated."

Atsushi nods slowly, beginning to understand. "Oh, okay. So you two are just close friends, then."

"Are we just not going to ask what you were doing in a holding cell when Dazai got thrown in?" Tanizaki asks from his desk.

"I just got too silly, you know how it is."

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crystallizsch · 1 month

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I want the infodump on Jamil and Yuusha ma'am I beg

THIS HAS BEEN UNANSWERED FOR A MONTH IM SORRY AUGH

but thank you so much yes im okay im normal about them i’ll do my best (for context i mentioned in the tags of one of my posts a while back wanting to infodump about them, but i forget which one it was jfkdlsjhl anyways-)

this won't be a full info dump because i think that would somewhat restrict my dynamic of them if i put it all into words (if that makes sense) ;;;

and i realized i lowkey dont have a coherent timeline for them (yet); i just put them in random scenarios of what i think would be fun at the moment

to make up for it i'll also put a silly self-indulgent sketch dump all below ;;;

I JUST REALIZED I DRAW THEM MAKING EYE CONTACT A LOT (bc something something there's a level of trust that jamil wont use his snake whisper on yuu anymore)

okay now for some random jamiyuu dynamics/hcs/lore

yuu fell first -> yuu lost feelings (bc why would you trust someone who took advantage you) -> ✨ then something happened ✨ -> jamil fell next but harder.

highkey disliked each other -and showed it- in the beginning bc of the whole scarabia drama; then an -accidental- act of service got them to think differently about one another. like "holy shit maybe they're not so bad after all???"

extremely slow burn.

very competitive with one another which then bled into their "flirting" / affectionate acts when they eventually became closer.

basically: “sweetheart” but rivalry -> “babe” but platonically -> “bro” but romantically pipeline.

(“are you flirting or starting a fight”)

yuu kinda throws around “love you” a lot, especially to her close friends; so -during their “platonic” stage- for some reason, jamil was the only “friend” she has not said this to. but it’s okay it’s not like jamil had referred to her as the “f-word” (friend) anyway.

had a mutual agreement that their romantic relationship is temporary because of yuu wanting to go home; they’re just going to “try it out” “no hard feelings”.

yuu made jamil promise to never use snake whisper on her ever again.

jamil: personal beef w/ bugs + afraid of them; yuu: personal beef w/ bugs (w/ a few exceptions) + not afraid of them, just generally pissed at their existence.

dancing and music lowkey became one of their love languages.

kalim genuinely became one yuu’s best friends because of how much they hit it off. jamil always third wheels them no matter the circumstance.

yuu loves grim more than jamil; jamil knows this very well. and so does grim.

#i was today years old that asks will not let me put images next to each other sigh #WAIT IT’S DIFFERENT ON MOBILE #smh tumblr u are stressin me out #anyways idek if you're still here anon but akjfkldsslk #the way i was jumpscared when i saw this in my inbox tho #it just made me really happy that people are interested in these two 😭#im still just afjkdlslsj why #but honestly thank you 🫶#im glad people can enjoy them as much as me #also i am just posting back to back what is wrong with me #i should make the most of it bc my schedule’s going to be BUSY after this week #also also there's one particular way some artists draw jamil's nose and i love it #i really wanna draw it like that too hkdsljs #i'll try it out next time i draw his side profile #[—#✦'-asks #★'-twst-rambles #★'-my-art #★'-my-writing #(💜) yuusha #(💜) jamiyuu #twst oc x canon #jamil viper #twst #twisted wonderland #—]

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tickle-bugs · 7 months

Text

The Ol' Kentucky Welcome

Summary: Eggsy’s attitude gets him into trouble at Statesman HQ. Whiskey and Tequila show him how they handle mouthy recruits with too much pride.

Anon: Hey! Love your work. I was trying to think of something I haven't read. So, kingsman and golden circle. Maybe eggsy, whiskey, and Tatum s characters get real drunk one night, start teasing each other and a full out brawl of a tickle fight happens!!! You can do it!!! Thanks!

Loose handwaving at and spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

Becoming a Kingsman had done wonders for Eggsy’s impulse control and sense of self. He’s got restraint now, and better judgement—he doesn’t blindly chase a whim without considering the consequences first.

This is what he tells himself as he poaches a bottle of premium Statesman Reserve whiskey from a supply closet rather ominously labeled ‘This Ain’t For Sharing, Friend’. He makes sure to shuffle the bottles to disguise the large gap left behind on the shelf.

He settles in at the Statesman briefing room table, loosening his tie and shirt collar. He unbuttons his jacket and, in a rare flash of bad manners, kicks his feet up onto one of the nearby chairs.

The thought of Harry scolding him for it tugs at chest.

“Now what do we have here?” Whiskey whistles lowly, ducking into the doorway. Tequila fits in beside him. Eggsy gives a mocking salute before popping the cork on the bottle. He grabs a polished crystal glass from a platter on the table and pours himself a hefty bit.

“Looks to me like we’ve got a thief, Whiskey.” Tequila arches his brow. “Y’ain’t learned your lesson yet, Galahad?”

“Gentlemen.” Eggsy smirks and lifts his glass. The sharp kiss of the liquor burns his tongue, but it washes back with a smoky smoothness unlike anything he'd ever tried. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the slight twitch of Whiskey’s eyebrow in response.

“Thought you fancy-types were supposed to be polite.” Whiskey puts his hands on his hips.

“And I thought you brutish types couldn’t make something so delicious.” Eggsy angles the glass in the light. The liquid seems to glow.

Tequila ducks past Whiskey and takes a seat at the table, helping himself to a glass. He clinks glasses with Eggsy and they share another sip. Both of them sigh in unison, sinking deeper into their chairs. Whiskey throws Eggsy’s feet off his chair and takes a seat.

“You’re lucky I ain’t reportin’ you to Ginger Ale for theft.” Whiskey fixes himself a glass. He takes off his hat and rests it on the table. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

“Report me for what?” Eggsy cocks his head. “You fine, upstanding gentlemen cracked open a bottle of your own reserve to share with your guest and I just had to say yes. Would hate to be impolite.”

Whiskey glares. Eggsy sips innocently.

“I like this motherfucker, Whiskey.” Tequila laughs, muffling himself in his fist. Whiskey shifts his glare.

“‘Course you do. You can’t keep your mug outta trouble to save your life.”

“Least my mug ain’t ugly,” Tequila grumbles. Eggsy snorts. Whiskey turns to fish for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. As he leans forward, a silver shine peeks out of his pants pocket. Eggsy gently plucks a shiny lighter from Whiskey’s pocket and tucks it into his own.

“Champagne mentioned you’re a cheeky bugger.” Eggsy knocks shoulders with Tequila and winks.

“I dunno what that means.” Tequila frowns. They both watch Whiskey fumble around for the lost lighter and keep smooth, straight expressions.

“You get into shit. He’s fond of you?” Eggsy gestures at him. Tequila nods.

“Yeah, well…he wasn’t always. I’ve always been a bit of a firecracker. Didn’t make the best choices. Got people hurt. Built up a reputation for bein’ a problem, and Champagne started makin’ me own it.” Tequila watches his whiskey swirl in his glass. Eggsy hums thoughtfully.

“Sounds like Harry. He didn’t let me get away with shit. If I did something reckless, it was my arse on the line. But sometimes it paid off.” Eggsy smiles and thinks of stealing Harry’s cab on his way out of initiation.

“To good mentors.” Tequila inclines his head respectfully and raises his glass. Eggsy clinks their glasses together.

The three of them pass the time draining the bottle and looking out over the twinkling lights of the distillery buildings. A boyish mischief settles into Tequila, one that grows as the liquor in the bottle sinks. Whiskey starts to slur his words, but he maintains a hunter’s focus.

“Tell me somethin’, Eggsy. What brought you to Kingsman?” Whiskey watches him over the rim of his glass. His stare is piercing.

“Hm. Harry did. Not so different from Tequila, I reckon. I’d made a right fuckin’ mess and Harry saved me from it. Gave me a job. He saw something in me that no one else did.” Eggsy traces his fingers along the edge of his cup. He glances absently towards Harry’s cell and sighs quickly. Whiskey follows his gaze.

“Did your lepidopterist friend teach you to have sticky fingers, or do you just like causin’ problems?” Whiskey holds his hand out. Eggsy rolls his eyes and hands over the stolen lighter.

“I’ve always been good at nicking things. S’fun.” Eggsy grins and produces Whiskey’s wallet. Whiskey grumbles under his breath and snatches it.

“Feels like you’re the only one of your people that ain’t all hoity-toity. What other secrets are you hiding?” Tequila leans forward. The question grates against Eggsy’s better instincts. He searches Tequila’s face for the slightest bit of ill will. All that sticks is the way light catches softly on his eyes. Eggsy hums and turns his eyes to the ceiling to think.

“Well, my girlfriend bein’ a princess isn’t much of a secret anymore, so…I was a gymnast for a bit.” Eggsy grins. Tequila’s eyes light up and he starts snapping in Whiskey’s direction. For each snap, Whiskey gives a disgruntled hm until eventually they’re just swatting at each other.

“Whiskey, don’t we have them flippy bars down in the gym?” Tequila sniffs, blinking as the liquor hits his sinuses. Eggsy perks up. A spark of excitement picks up atop the warm flush of liquor in his stomach.

“We do. For Statesman agents. Y’know Rum and Cognac get real touchy ‘bout their stuff.” Whiskey raises an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re workin’ together now, ain’t we? ‘Sides, Rum and Cognac ain’t here. Let’s walk him down there. I wanna see what he can do.” Tequila claps Eggsy on the shoulder. Eggsy gives his best winning smile. Whiskey grumbles, then downs the rest of his glass.

“Fuck it. Fine. Five minutes.”

…

They stumble down to the Statesman training facility, passing by a very tired Ginger Ale who opts not to ask why Eggsy’s wearing Tequila’s hat (pretty simple, it’s ‘cause he nicked it). Whiskey puts his thumb to a scanner and the wall unfolds for them.

The lights click on in rows, lighting the industrial space. Eggsy gasps like a kid on Christmas morning.

Sophisticated weight training and combat equipment sit in neat rows. Eggsy locks in directly past that, drifting unconsciously towards a heaping pile of chalk bags. Pommel horses, beams, bars, and hanging rings sprawl out on a spring mat, all in pristine condition. A few launchpads and trampolines lay near the equipment. Eggsy laughs incredulously as he takes it in. Nostalgia flutters in his chest.

Eggsy immediately unbuttons his shirt, folding it cleanly and crisply. He shoves it and the cowboy hat into Tequila’s arms, adjusts his tank top, then works to unlace his shoes. The moment his feet are free, he sprints for one of the springboards. He hits it clean, just like he’d learned, and pushes off the vault, twisting through the air. His landing is a bit messy, but it’s functional, and he takes off to the parallel bars next.

The alcohol writhes in his system, but he doesn’t care. How can he? It’s been years. Coach’d told him he was good enough for the fucking Olympics and he hadn’t touched a set of bars since. The flex of the bars is a comfort to him. He flips and twirls, holding crisp handstands and tucks through muscle memory alone.

He dismounts beautifully from the parallel bars to the pleasant thrum of adrenaline and a smattering of applause.

“Hoowee, that was somethin’!” Tequila ruffles Eggsy’s hair, destroying the last hold of the gel on his head. Eggsy laughs and swats him away.

“Hats off to you, kid. Takes a lot of skill to pull that off.” Whiskey nods in respect. Eggsy returns it.

“I ain’t gonna lie, I thought you were gonna fall on your ass. I’m impressed.” Tequila slugs his shoulder with a brassy laugh.

“Thanks, Tequila.” Eggsy grins roguishly. “Mind givin’ me a boost?”

“Sure.” Tequila follows Eggsy over to the high bar. Whiskey loudly clears his throat.

“Boys, this has been…eye-openin’, but we really should get goin’. Early start tomorrow, I imagine. And this one’ll be fit to collapse when the time difference catches up.” Whiskey inclines his head towards Eggsy.

“Sorry, bruv? Can’t hear you all the way over there.” Eggsy gestures to his ear with a cheeky grin.

“I said—“

“No, no. If you have something to say, come whisper it in my fucking ear.” Eggsy snickers, hearing Merlin’s voice in his head. Whiskey rolls his eyes and saunters over.

“Look, I respect you ‘cause Champagne respects you. Other than that, you’re still a brat that oughta fall into line. Let’s turn in for the night. Both of you.” Whiskey raises his eyebrow. The honey tones of his voice make his annoyance all the more amusing.

“What’re you gonna do about it? Get me with your skipping rope?” Eggsy smirks. Tequila mutters a quiet aw hell and takes a step back.

“Maybe I will, you little shit.”

Eggsy comes to terms with a number of things about himself in that moment, and he puts them all away to process sober. Instead, he gestures for Tequila to give him a hand and reaches up for the bar.

Tequila picks him up by the waist, and it’s not the smooth, assisted lift he’s used to. It’s the clumsy grip of a drunk surprised by weight. Tequila does lift Eggsy up to the bar, but at the cost of his dignity— he spasms and makes a high-pitched noise when Tequila’s fingers press into his waist.

In hindsight, he should’ve seen the way Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at that.

“What the hell was that?” Tequila squints up at him.

“Nothin’. Thought you were gonna drop me. Bugger off.” Eggsy kicks weakly in Tequila’s direction. He backs up, hands raised. Whiskey steps in, hands on his belt.

“Get off the bar, Eggsy.” Whiskey sniffs authoritatively. The logical Kingsman agent buried in Eggsy’s brain sets off warning bells, but Drunk Eggsy, who is obviously of much sounder mind, ignores it.

“Make me, Whiskey.” Eggsy starts to swing in the space he has. Not enough to kick anyone, but enough to look like he will. He manages to rotate clumsily around the bar once, then hangs back down in front of Whiskey.

“You want me to embarrass you in front of your new friend? Okay.” Whiskey steps up to Eggsy and makes a show of sizing him up. Then, quicker than the draw of his pistols, his hands latch onto Eggsy’s sides and squeeze until he’s screaming and plummeting off the bar. Eggsy’s short life flashes before his eyes as he falls bodily into Tequila’s arms.

“Are you fucking mental?” Eggsy goes to shove Whiskey, but Tequila holds him back.

“Woah, watch that mouth of yours!” Whiskey laughs, eyes glittering. “You told me to make you. Your wish is my command, friend.”

Eggsy kicks, trying to break Tequila's hold, and he catches Whiskey right in the balls. He makes a noise like a wounded donkey and folds over. Eggsy snickers. Whiskey whips his reddening face up and glares.

“Now you’ve done it. Tequila!” Whiskey tosses something his way and he catches it. Eggsy barely has time to react before his arms are bound and hoisted in the air above his head. His toes brush the ground. The bar above him creaks in protest but does not give.

Whiskey puts his hands on his hips again. Eggsy wonders if that’s a cowboy thing or an American one.

“Skippin’ rope, bitch.” Whiskey grins, sharklike. “Now…you done with the whole insubordination routine or am I gonna have to give you the ol’ Kentucky Welcome?”

Eggsy snorts derisively. He tests his bindings. They hold steady. Fear starts to pierce through his liquid courage.

“I’m honored, bruv, but I’m in a committed relationship—“

Whiskey clicks his tongue and crowds into Eggsy’s space. He immediately steels himself for violence—what else would there be besides violence? He’s been jumped before. He’s no stranger to the predatory tilt of Whiskey’s head. He sets his jaw and glares.

“When Tequila first joined up, he carried a bit of them clownin’ instincts with him. That didn’t fly with Champagne. We had to figure out a way to take him down a few pegs without hurtin’ him. So, the Kentucky Welcome was born.”

“Aw, fuck you, Whiskey. Seriously, man.” Tequila pipes up from behind Eggsy.

“What does this have to do with me? I know you Americans love to hear yourself talk, but I’m not interested.” Eggsy tries to pull free. Nothing. Whiskey’s gaze gets softer, more mischievous. The change is deeply unnerving.

“Well, you remind me of Tequila. You’ve clearly got a good head on your shoulders, but you’re a little shit. So I’m gonna deal with you the same way we used to deal with him. Last chance, kid. You comin’ quietly or are we gonna have to drag you?”

Eggsy flinches when Whiskey reaches for him—years of habit die hard—and prepares himself for the hard crunch of knuckles into his ribs. Instead, he’s met with a gentle and persistent scritching.

A confused noise bubbles up at the back of Eggsy’s throat, quickly chased by a wobbly smile. He ducks his head and bites his lip.

Oh what the fuck?

Kingsman had taught him to resist the most painful and stressful of scenarios, but they’d never taught him what to do about this. Tilde’s maybe the only person who knows that he’s ticklish, and even then…he can convince her to let him go by kissing her senseless. Eggsy doubts that’ll work here.

“Uh oh, Galahad. Don’t tell me something’s botherin’ you?” Whiskey presses an insincere hand to his heart. Eggsy’s brain stutters for a moment as he realizes that Tequila’s the one scratching at his ribs.

“Fffffuck you.” Eggsy exhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes--nope, that’s worse. So much worse.

Whiskey tickles under his arms and Eggsy yelps, bright laughter tumbling after. It shouldn’t be this bad—Tilde’s done far worse to him in jest, but somehow the teasing grin of his begrudging allies gets under his skin. His arms flex as he tries to pull himself up and away, but his strength collapses with every breath.

“Aw, y’all are twins.” Whiskey leans around Eggsy to smirk at Tequila.

“Whiskey.” Tequila’s languished tone being hilarious really doesn’t help things. Eggsy’s entire face scrunches as he tries to find his way back towards composure. A hiccup sneaks into his chest, and then he’s giggling incessantly. His chest feels like the sparklers he’d run around with as a kid, bright and fizzling and dissolving with every breath.

“Y’know, I wish I had tried this when I first caught y’all. Prolly woulda gone a hell of a lot faster.” Tequila’s voice floats past Eggsy’s ear. Eggsy manages a giggly growl and a halfhearted headbutt in his direction. Tequila tuts at him and folds his fingers into Eggsy’s waistline.

He makes a noise at a pitch that threatens to shatter every lightbulb in the room. Tequila’s calloused fingers strum Eggsy’s nerves like guitar strings and it tickles, fucking shit—

Tequila hooks his fingers just so and Eggsy kicks. Whiskey snags his ankle before a second devastating impact can occur. They make tortuous eye contact.

“Whiskey—“ Eggsy attempts to appeal to the cowboy’s humanity with what Merlin fondly calls his nuclear puppy eyes.

Grinning wickedly, Whiskey shakes his head and reaches for his trapped foot.

Eggsy’s eyes bug out of his head.

He wrenches his leg free, twists his hands, and flips upwards. Managing a gold-worthy handstand into a dismount, he frees his wrists and lands smoothly. Eggsy playfully curtsies. Tequila starts to clap. Whiskey smacks him upside the head.

“Alright, I’m done playin’ around. Grab him. If we’re caught down here at this hour it’ll be my hide.” Whiskey gestures for Tequila to step in. He does so, still a little off-kilter from the liquor.

Eggsy rushes in, expecting a clumsier rendition of the fighting style he’d been so painfully introduced to. Instead, Tequila smoothly blocks his blows and hoists Eggsy over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. One of his arms locks behind Eggsy’s thighs as they start to walk for the door. It takes him a moment to even process being upside-down. The sway of Tequila’s gait shakes some blood into his brain.

“Aw, y’all are twins.”

“—deal with you the same way we used to deal with him—“

A lightbulb clicks on in Eggsy’s head. He shouldn’t…but he could…but he shouldn’t—

He shoves his hands under Tequila’s arms. Before he can blink or breathe, they’re in a heap on the ground. Tequila’s cackling dead weight presses the air from Eggsy’s chest.

“Thought you’d put up more of a fight, bruv.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raise. Tequila shrieks at him in response. Eggsy manages to wiggle free and hop lightly to his feet as Tequila gathers his wits.

“There’s one of you and two of us. Be wise.” Whiskey cracks his neck. Eggsy looks over at Tequila and smirks devilishly. Tequila pales.

“I like those odds.”

The flurry of motion as they charge each other sets off the ‘fight’ center in his brain, but there is some comfort in knowing no harm is on the table. Eggsy flips and twists out of their grasp, taking advantage of his flexibility to pull off increasingly ridiculous dodges. He neatly sweeps both Whiskey and Tequila’s legs out from under them.

“Little help?” Whiskey gestures lamely at Tequila.

“Nah, I’m done. Y’all are nuts.” Tequila lays on his back, putting his hat down over his face. He folds his arms behind his head. Whiskey curses at him. Tequila gives him the finger.

Whiskey grabs Eggsy by the back of the shirt--really, he should know better--and Eggsy sweeps him again. Whiskey’s ready for it this time, though, and he manages a pin faster than Eggsy can roll away. Whiskey plants himself on Eggsy’s back like he’s settling on a bull.

“Aren’t you tired? Goddamn.” Whiskey sighs. Eggsy winces at the texture of the mat against his cheek.

It reminds him of Roxy and agonizing training sessions, of hours of sweat and bruising and his face stinging from being slammed into the mat. Even past the wave of grief, he remembers the shape of her smile when she would lecture him about letting her pin him on his stomach.

“Indefensible,” she’d say, prodding the back of his ribs. “You’re a sitting duck like this.”

And every time he’d roll his eyes, hooking his fingers behind her knees--

Oh. Hm.

As best as he can, he reaches back and latches onto Whiskey’s thigh, squeezing just above his knee. Whiskey hollers and tries to phase right through the floor. Eggsy rolls them over and pursues, squeezing and squeezing until Whiskey is a wheezing pile on the floor.

Eggsy flips onto his feet. He knows he’s imagining the fond, ghostly squeeze on his shoulder, but he puts his hand on the spot anyways.

“Now I’m tired. Goodnight, fellas.” Eggsy salutes with a wide grin, stepping over both cowboys. He gathers his belongings and saunters for the door, whistling pleasantly.

Whiskey rubs a hand over his face as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Kid’s fuckin’ lucky I like him,” Whiskey grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Might not wanna speak too soon. He took your hat.” Tequila puts his own ten-gallon back on his head and gestures towards the door with a whistle. Whiskey growls and shoots to his feet.

“Motherfucker! Eggsy!”

#my fics #this fic truly wrote itself. i blacked out and it just happened #and then i realized i didnt properly read the prompt and then rewrote it lol #is this good? *vague mumbling and shrugging*. did i have fun? absolutely #kingsman #ticklish!eggsy #eggsy unwin #ticklish!whiskey #agent whiskey #ticklish!tequila #agent tequila #<- contenders for some of my silliest tags #theres an au in my head where roxy merlin eggsy and harry play cowboy with the statesman agents for a while #mostly bc i want cowboy roxy...#anyways ive wanted to write kingsman forever! thx for the prompt hope you enjoy <3 #also anon 'you can do it!!! thanks!!!' has been in my head since you sent the prompt. like yea i CAN do it!!! thank YOU!!!!

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wispscribbles · 2 months

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hi i hope this isn’t annoying and i am taking all my bravery just to do this off anon, however i just stumbled across your account this morning and read all of NRFTW in one sitting and this is the first time in so long ive read a whole fanfic, LET ALONE one that made me gasp out loud and giggle to myself and ALL THAT CRAZY SHIT!! your writing is what i aspire to reach (as one writer to another)! all the callbacks and flashbacks were so perfectly placed and written. reading that was truly a fuckin MAGICAL experience dude. keep it up man :3

Aaaah thank you so much!!! No need to be nervous writing me, I love receiving asks (but also, I get it, I’m the same) - and asks about NRFTW??? My bread and butter, I am so so happy that people are continually finding and enjoying that fic. I put my sweat, tears and half a year into that thing, and while I keep finding more and more flaws if I read through it, I still think it makes up for it with… soul?? Idk, I’m just happy that it’s a good read for so many folks. To hear I can inspire you and your writing is genuinely all I could hope for. I’m still learning and working to improve - we’re out here together !! Thanks again, and good luck writing 🫡❤️❤️

I hope it’s ok that I answer these asks in a single post - they have a bit of a theme, so it feels right

That’s dedicated reading! It’s fun to see ppl reading it in a few hours - makes me think of the poor souls who waited from chapter to chapter. ANYWAY, thank you so much for reading!! I kinda hope I’m struck by inspiration to write more for that universe some day, but everything was wrapped up fairly neatly, so it’d almost be a shame. We’ll see! (I think the characters would prefer if I let them be, given my tendency to… blow stuff up) (in fics!) Thank you for sending an ask my way ❤️

@maraskywalkers hiii!! Thank youuuu !!!! I’m so happy you enjoyed it 🥰 It’s nice not being alone in enjoying something a little more soft for ghoap, despite the nature of canon. Thanks for reading !!

@sir-boggy-himself (GREAT name, Sir Boggy) Thank you for reading! In one sitting, too?? There’s something so fun in knowing some folks experienced that whole thing in one go, that’s gotta give some emotional whiplash along the way 😭 I’m happy you enjoy both the art and the fics. I hope I can keep making good stuff 🥹 Thanks again !!!

#ask #asks #long post #simonrriley #anon ask #maraskywalkers #sir-boggy-himself #NRFTW tag #ily all so much thank you for writing me #while writing nrftw my brain was like ‘wow I can’t believe I invented garbage. can’t believe the worst writer is actually me’ lmao #this is so reassuring #the comments and ppl invested in the story as it came out kept me going tbh #and the fact that ppl still find it now and enjoy it enough to want to send me an ask or comment on the fic??? absolutely wild to me #and so so so appreciated <3333

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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

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Illumi fluff alphabet with only the letters in the word love please?

Illumi Fluff Alphabet

notes - again, back with the hxh requests from amazing anons, thank you so much oml!! and I love Illumi and have been loving all the fluff alphabet requests I've been getting, so I am more than happy to do this for you anon <3333 sending lots of love and hugs

based on this post

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He would just walk up and say. "I enjoy being in your presence and would like you to consider a date." Like that's it. Your flattered, but he doesnt even act that way sjahsjhsahj but the date ends up being really nice <3

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

He would just look at you. Like those big eyes are watching every move you make. Is it obvious to others, no. To you, yes. He even made a doll of you just to be a little extra creepy. He would like to kiss your hand a lot though. He kinda gets obsessed with you once he really knows he's in love. But just... silently.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Honestly, not to be rude, but this is Illumi, he wouldn't care about the relationship as much as his business or family. If he needs to leave you behind for more important matters he will. But when he really knows he's in love with you, he needs to protect you at all times and you really do mean something to him, but just not as highly as you would think unfortunately.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He's definitely the dominant one in the relationship. He honestly acts like he owns you LMFAOOOO (but finds it hot when you make it clear that he doesnt own you). He will always be the one to take you on dates and be the leading one in the relationship

~~~~~

hxh masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

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avonne-writes · 1 year

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lucerys after undergoing puberty and becoming breakbones Jr: hi

aemond, internally: I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me

Expectations

Aemond hasn't seen his nephew in three years - since Vaemond's failure of a challenge against Lucerys' position - but he can picture him clearly. Round, rosy cheeks, big eyes glistening with fearful tears, hands like a maiden's and a body built for soft pillows and sugary cakes. Pathetic, really. Imagining him fills Aemond with familiar delight.

When it was announced that Rhaenyra would bring her entire flock to the capital for the King's nameday, Aemond could barely contain his excitement. He didn't have a chance to put his hands on the insolent little bastard last time, but he has grown since. He had years to prepare. He'll get through to Lucerys' pretty face even if his sister's rabid watchdog of a husband stands between them. Then, Lucerys will get what he deserves.

When Rhaenyra's carriage pulls to a halt in the courtyard, he's watching the door with thinly veiled glee, standing as tall and as menacing as he can in anticipation of his nephew. But he's left disappointed. It's only his sister - miraculously not fat with a babe this time - and her youngest sons who step out. Aemond has to resist craning his neck for a glimpse of floppy brown hair. He grips his own elbow tighter, gritting his teeth. Where is he?

Then, there's a roar high up in the clouds - a dragon, Aemond's ears recognize. Another roar responds to it, and laughter follows before two beasts land just outside the gate. Aemond is surprised that Rhaenyra allowed her precious, illegitimate offspring to arrive on dragonback. Wasn't she concerned that a forceful gust of wind would blow the little lord into the sea?

The first figure coming through the gate is Jacaerys, just as arrogant and irritating as ever. His hairstyle has not improved either, Aemond notes with smug satisfaction. But behind him, there's a man whom Aemond's mind refuses to recognize.

He's tall and broad and built with muscles big enough to pass for a smith. The golden seams of his doublet struggle to contain him. His breeches look tight too - perhaps Rhaenyra's seamstress hadn’t had time to refit them to his size. His cheeks are dusted with stubble Aemond could weep for but would never be able to grow, and his brown hair curls in soft locks around his ears. He's that brute, Ser Harwin - but younger, sweeter. Prettier.

His round eyes glitter not with tears but with joy that dims as they meet Aemond's gaze.

This is not fair.

Aemond's hatred boils in his chest as he glares, all his plans and dreams and fantasies crumbling, his mind grappling to rearrange them to fit this new image. His nephew looks disturbed by his scowl. He casts his eyes down, his smile faltering, then flicks them back up to Aemond as if unable to stay away for a long time. Good. Aemond wants that bastard to look at him all day. To never have a peaceful moment when he doesn’t think of Aemond watching him back.

They stare at each other with a fire that never wavers until Rhaenyra blocks Aemond's line of vision to make him go through the expected greetings.

As they proceed into the castle, Aemond makes sure to situate himself behind Lucerys to make him more unnerved. He's annoyed to note that Luke is not only tall but taller than Aemond himself, and his steps are heavy in his boots no matter how small and insignificant he tries to appear just to avoid Aemond's notice.

It's a ludicrous notion anyway. He'd have Aemond's attention even if he was a pitiful worm in the ground.

As they walk up the stairs, Aemond considers his plans to take Lucerys down. He runs his gaze up Lucerys' calves to his ass and up his back. When Lucerys throws a wary glance over his shoulder, he smirks, happy to see that it still intimidates the bastard.

Simple brute force isn't going to suffice anymore. He can't just grab his nephew's dainty wrists in one hand and use the other to tease him with his knife. Those wrists wouldn't fit in his grip at once, and Lucerys could just tear himself out of that hold and punch him. No, Aemond will need to wrestle him into submission properly.

He'd have to use his own weight, even if Lucerys is not as skilled as he is. Aemond is better with a sword than with his bare hands, but he needs skin contact to truly revel in his revenge. The nick of a blade wouldn't be as gratifying. It would be better to catch Lucerys unawares, when those bulging muscles of his are still too sluggish to react. In the middle of the night seems promising enough.

Aemond adjusts his hair over his shoulders, suppressing a smile. Yes, he would sneak into Lucerys' chambers in the middle of the night, straddle him in his sleep, bind his wrists and tear his clothes away to get at his skin, then torment him until he begs. He knows Luke's tears will look gorgeous as they trickle down to his cheeks. Aemond would pretend to be gentle and wipe them away, feeling the rasp of stubble under his palm, and he would slip his thumb between Lucerys' plump lips to make him taste the salt. Then, he'd see if those breeches have been tailored to trick the eye or not -

Aemond's thoughts screech to a halt.

By the gods, what is he thinking?

#lucemond #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #aemond x lucerys #my writing #anon #thank you so much 🌼#i hope you enjoyed this little drabble 😄

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