#/ i think. main thing is that his explosions are more force > heat

[dynmghts]

I am putting my whole brain through chemistry hell with what little I remember from high school chemistry to understand how nitroglycerin works (thanks to one whole thread that's just meant to be silly and goofy, and also ignoring that the substance he makes is described as "nitroglycerin-like"). And man, when I tell you... Katsuki simply has to be built different to deal with his Quirk.

For one, it's a good thing that the nitroglycerin only produces from his hands. For two, remember that nitroglycerin is only slightly soluble with water - which also checks out with how Horikoshi draws the sweat beads sometimes, because they're not exactly combining with the nitroglycerin he makes.

But that likely means the nitroglycerin Katsuki makes is... Quite literally pure.

(This got long, so the rest is under the read more!)

Basic fundamentals to understand about nitroglycerin: it is both flammable and combustible. Wikipedia (bc this shit is the only thing making it make sense) says that "flammable applies to combustible materials that ignite easily and thus are more dangerous and more highly regulated". This is because of nitroglycerin's extremely reactive nature, prone to explosion via shock, friction, heat, and flame.

It is a class A explosive under OSHA, which is defined as: "possessing, detonating, or otherwise maximum hazard; such as dynamite, nitroglycerin, picric acid, lead azide, fulminate of mercury, black powder, blasting caps, and detonating primers".

Its HMIS diamond scaffold is as follows (based on this):

Health: 2 (can cause temporary incapacitation or residual injury)

Flammability: 3 (can be ignited under almost all ambient temperature conditions)

Instability: 4 (readily capable of detonation or explosive decomposition or explosive reaction at normal temperatures and pressures)

Special: N/A

Solid nitroglycerin (at 13°C or lower) will destabilise and explode if melted too quickly. A bottle of pure liquid nitroglycerin (14°C-50°C) will explode if it's dropped on the ground. It will begin to decompose at 50-60°C and explode at a temperature of 218°C. Its decomposition has an exothermic reaction, thus it can literally ignite itself. Nitroglycerin does not need oxygen to explode, because it has enough oxygen molecules in its chemical formula.

Its chemical formula in question is C3H5N3O9. The products after exploding are 3 CO2 + 2.5 H2O + 1.5 N2 + 0.5O...

A clean equation looks something like:

4 C3H5N3O9 -> 12 CO2 + 10 H20 + 6 N2 + O2.

Heat liberated from a nitroglycerin explosion exceeds temperatures of 5,000°C. the detonation wave from this reaction reaches a velocity of 7,280-7,700 metres per second, and creates the development of 20,000 atmospheres of pressure. Its explosive energy density sits at about 6.23 kJ/g, which is one of the higher power outputs in terms of explosive molecules.

So what does this mean for Bakugou Katsuki?

Well, simply put, he does not need a substantial amount of nitroglycerin on his palms to create detonations. The tiny sparks he creates are arguably miniscule doses of nitroglycerin that he's spontaneously igniting.

The method of ignition is thankfully obvious: he can heat his palms. He can shock the nitroglycerin on his palms with this rapid heat, thus spurring the molecules into the desired reaction.

It also explains how Katsuki needs to store sweat so he may create larger explosions later on - it's likely that he doesn't typically produce enough nitroglycerin from his palms to immediately justify any large-scale detonations that he desires. So, to achieve this, he has to work harder and sweat more to garner enough of the substance for the result he's after.

In the realm of BNHA, it's pretty clear that Katsuki's explosions don't exhibit the exothermal properties of nitroglycerin, or we would be seeing some very devastating burns left behind. While I think that he is ultimately capable of heat-related damage, his explosions overall are more force-based. I think his ultimate moves (Howitzer in particular) utilise the full force of nitroglycerin's reaction... Maybe, sometimes, reduced to varying degrees depending on the person he's fighting (plus the use of support items, skill, etc.).

For instance, compare his standard Howitzer Impact used against Todoroki in the sports festival to the Cluster-boosted Howitzer against Shigaraki in the final war:

While it was an ultimate move used on Todoroki, he was less experienced at the time, likely hindering its effectiveness. (I want to say he dialled it back so it wouldn't, you know, cause irreparable damage... But it's possible that inexperience trumped its overall power, because he wanted to win with everything he had.)

Then, against Shigaraki, it was so much force that it quite literally moved floating U.A. across the sky. He combined his support gear, his experience, and the amount of nitroglycerin stored to achieve this level of force.

As a further note, because of nitroglycerin's extreme reactivity and explosive properties, it cannot really produce a flame of its own. Because Katsuki's explosions seem to be more force-based on top of that, he is not necessarily capable of setting things alight... (Seen in the training camp arc, where he tried and failed to start a fire, instead just exploding the wood.)

As for Katsuki's natural resistances to his own Quirk (of which I have described before, but I want to reiterate):

Larger explosion sound levels can be anywhere between 120 decibels and 210 decibels... And a human's "safe hearing" level is about 85 decibels. In my headcanon, Katsuki has a natural adaptation which means he can withstand higher decibels than others, but that does not make him immune - so while he can tolerate large-scale explosion sounds in an open area, especially with him at the centre point, he would suffer if it were the same explosion in an enclosed area.

The aforementioned heating on his palms are only a part of Katsuki's adaptation to his Quirk; the skin is also significantly thicker on his palms and fingers, making his tolerance for touching hot things at a higher level. Like... Much, much higher. It accommodates for when nitroglycerin requires 218°C to explode in a controlled environment. It's why he can handle hot things out of the oven, and why he doesn't know what burns on his hands feel like.

The musculature on his arms and shoulders also have a natural level of strength to withstand the force of his quirk, but this isn't impervious either. He's had to train hard and build on that natural strength to best withstand the higher outputs of force.

Exposure to pure nitroglycerin for any individual is ill-advised, but with manga logic and creative liberties, I don't think anyone who wants to hold Katsuki's hand should have to worry. (I'm 99% sure that he washes his hands thoroughly after working out, anyway.) As for Katsuki himself, I think he does exhibit some symptoms of a nitroglycerin overdose when he's pushed himself way past his limit... But these episodes are incredibly rare, and often very short-lived.

The final notes:

Constant detonation of nitroglycerin means Katsuki has a bit of a smoky smell. Past that, there is also a faint caramel smell.

Also do not taste the nitroglycerin (for whatever reason there is to lick his hand or something? Which Katsuki will literally kill you for doing that, because what the fuck). It does not taste as nice as it smells.

[supermanshield]

@blorb-el asked for a World's Finest 289 kiss, and here it is:

Bruce has never felt the true heat of being in Superman's arms before, not like this. Clark's arms around him are gentle, blanketing their embrace from the harsh reality of what they have just witnessed, even as the ashes of their visitors still lay smoking at their feet.

Their cheeks are wet with tears, overcome with emotion released by the Kryll. It's the only reason Bruce finds when he finally, finally gives in to all of his thoughts from the past days, and moves his face from Superman's shoulder while Clark mirrors him. It's the only reason, Bruce thinks, that he now feels the tears on Clark's cheeks and the tickle of Clark's thumb wiping away his own along the edges of his cowl. And it's the only reason, that what's been bubbling under the surface for so long finally breaks free and spills over between the two of them and makes Bruce close his eyes, right before they connect their lips. It has to be, Bruce thinks.

His thoughts are quickly forgotten as Clark's lips move against his own and he's captured in Superman's heat. Clark's hand comes up to cradle his head, and Bruce feels himself compelled to hold onto Clark's cape and touch his curls. It's only natural to open his mouth and taste Clark's warm breath on his own, and tickle his teeth with his tongue. Clark fills his senses, alight in an explosion of love. It all feels right, the way it should be, finally freed of their inhibitions, unlocked first by the Eldiran and then the Kryll. Unstoppable force has met immovable object and they've surrendered and melted into embrace, kiss, heat.

"Bruce..." Clark says finally, hushedly, when Bruce inevitably has to come up for air. Their arms do not let go of each other.

Bruce tries to think through the fog. This fog of want, of love that has been brought on by the Kryll, or Clark, their talk before, or their kiss, or all three. "Can we move to a different room?" He comes to, to test his hypothesis.

"Oh, of course." Clark steps away awkwardly, sadly, letting go and immediately Bruce misses his warmth. As they walk off, Bruce glances at the pile of ashes one last time, but the incredible sadness for the Kryll has been replaced with hope. Foolish hope that whatever Clark feels for him is in any way similar to how in hindsight he's felt about his friend for years, and what he's only allowed himself to think of after spending time with the Eldiran.

In the main room of the fortress, Clark hands Bruce a glass of fresh arctic ice-water. They say nothing for a while, and Bruce stares at Clark, gauging his reaction.

"May I?" Clark asks, reaching forward. Bruce nods. Clark has bared his soul already anyway. There's not much the lenses of the cowl can hide from him anymore.

His thumbs graze Bruce's cheekbones as he lifts the thing up and off, freeing Bruce from his mask, his shield. Superman stares into his very soul, but it's Clark who breaks the tension and says: "We fit each other like hand and glove." He takes Bruce's fingers and holds, gently and smiling. "Can I kiss you again?"

Bruce swallows. His hypothesis. He needs more data points. "Give me a moment," he answers.

He breathes, steadying himself. He sorts. His thoughts. The talk they had before the Kryll arrived. These are his own feelings, his own emotions. No longer those which the Kryll gave back to him in a flood that washed away his own reserve. The Kryll have simply given the final push and opened the door to his feelings for his best friend. He still wants to kiss Clark. "What do you feel?" He asks.

Clark, ever patient, rubs a thumb along his gloved hand, and answers with shattering honesty. "Love. You."

Clark still wants to kiss him.

"Okay," he says, and nothing more. No more words are needed, at a time like this, when so much is conveyed through just their eyes and gentle hands alone. Bruce wraps an arm around Clark, as Clark cradles his face, and breathes "oh Bruce," before sealing their lips together once more. And Bruce allows himself to finally, really, feel.

In here it is warm. Outside it is bitterly cold. Perhaps no one else, on any world, would understand.

[beetlefiction]

Vampire Paul au where it turns both Paul and John on when he drinks John’s blood.

Paul’s recent transformation would have been enough to scare off countless mates, if keeping his new vampiric status a secret between him and John meant anything. At first, John was of the mind that George and Rich had the right to know that their mate (and) coworker had been bitten by a vampire during a late-night excursion, but Paul also had the right to keep such matters to himself. And to John, of course.

Their relationship was a collection of secrets, anyway, so what was one more? 

John was swift to meet Paul’s criteria for how this *vampire* business would play out. With Cynthia and Julian gone, having some much-needed mother & son time, John was sitting on the sofa, peering up at a clammy Paul as he unfurled his preferences, rules John had to abide by if they wanted to maintain the quality of their relationship and keep the secret under wraps. Paul ran a hand through sweaty black hair, his other hand working his teeth at his thumb. He looked so unlike the prince of pop who graced magazine covers with his boyishly handsome looks. John reckoned vampires were supposed to look especially youthful, what with their ability to keep a static age and all, but here was Paul looking ghoulishly older with dark rims encircling his eyes and his skin papery white. John shifted in his seat as he watched the man pace. If he had to be honest, he was a bit frightened, not just at the way Paul looked, but at the buried knowledge of what he was capable of. Now that he was supernatural, and all. 

Of course, John would abide by Paul’s wishes, he didn’t want to know what would happen if he didn’t.

“OK, so this is what’s going to happen,” Paul finally said, running both hands through his hair and stopping right in front of John. Paul licked the sweat off his lips, an awkward laugh twinging on hysterical bubbling out of him. “Right, yeah, so this is subject to change since I’m still figuring it all out. But first, we’ve got to stop touring. I can’t be out in the sun as long as I used to, you know, so… we’ve gotta stop. Now.”

Hearing the great performer Paul McCartney say that he wanted to, no, *had* to stop touring made John’s brows shoot up, but he forced himself to keep quiet, though the urge to make a smart jab was there.

“Next, er…uh, I might be out late some nights, and sleep all day in the mornin’, so. We’ll have to tweak the schedule to accommodate my new sleep patterns.”

“You’re like nocturnal, then?” John piped up. “How’s that any different from what you did before?” “Well, I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

John shrugged and leaned back. “Fair enough.”

“And, erm. There’s probably some other shit I’m overlooking, but those’ll be the main adjustments we’ll have to make.” Paul held his chin and looked to the ground. John clung to the ‘we’ in that sentence. John watched closely as Paul’s mind seemed to mull over something, which admittedly had John slightly worried. Paul getting too into his head could result in a dangerous spiral, but it was even more dangerous to interrupt his train of thought, a bit like abruptly stopping an actual speeding train. An explosive crash would be imminent. 

“And uh. Erm. Well, I’ll have to drink. Blood, you know.”

“You’re a vampire, so—”

“Actually, don’t call me that either.” Paul gazed down at John with a heated warning in his eyes. “I’m still Paul. I’m still your bandmate. I’m just… going through this thing right now.”

John gave him a strange look, if Paul didn’t want to be called a vampire, then John would respect that at least when addressing him to his face, but of course, that could change if they were having an intense fight. John was known to say the most disparaging thing he could think of to wound his opponent, and Paul making it so clear that he was against the term *vampire* was laying down a boundary as much as it was handing over ammunition. 

“Okay.” John nodded. “Go on, then.”

Paul raised a brow, then nodded, confirming with himself that John understood him. “The last thing is pretty much. Just when I can’t get it from anywhere else, I’ll have to drink yours.”

John’s brows shot up. “Mine? My blood?”

Paul nodded with a finality that showed how much he’d been thinking about this. He looked down at John, soaking up the fear that washed over his face, even though it was shallow and short-lived. It wasn’t like Lennon to expose such a raw emotion for long. John set his jaw.

“What if I don’t want to give you my blood?”

Paul bit the inside of his cheeks. He exhaled hard out of his nose. “Look, Johnny. We’re mates, we’ve even said to each other that: ‘I’d do anything for you, you know’ remember? I need to drink blood to survive, there’s just no denying it, and if I desperately need it and I can’t get it from anyone, not even you?” Paul shrugged, scratching at his arm through his shirt. “I dunno. But I’ll be in a… really bad way. Really bad. How would you like to go weeks without eating, but you’re surrounded by piles and piles of delicious food? You’ll go mad.”

John looked down, considering Paul’s words while the other still spoke. 

“That’s what it’ll be like. But worse.”

John exhaled hard, looking away and dragging his hand down his face. Right, so he had to think about this. Worse things could happen to him. He’s given blood to doctors before, and it wasn’t like Paul would kill him if he fed from him. And intimacy wasn’t a reasonable fear either, seeing that they’ve both been rather close to each other before, in more ways than one.

“Is Jane not an option?” John had to try, even though he knew that he was going to let Paul do what he wanted.

“She doesn’t know. Can’t know.” Paul’s nails continued to work on his arm, clawing through the shirt and creating wrinkles in the fabric. John’s eyes traced over Paul’s figure. They were both pale typically, being born and raised English did that to a bloke, but Paul was especially pale. His skin reminded John of plaster, pasty and dry (yet incredibly sweaty) like he would flake apart any moment. His eyes, still large and doe-like, were a bit sunken atop a grey shadowy smear that went around his eyes. With his chapped lips to top it off, John had no other choice but to decide that Paul was already *not in a good way.* His eyes drifted back up to Paul’s face. 

“Do you need it now?”

Paul’s eyes widened briefly as his head snapped up to look at John, almost as if he was caught.

“I-I mean, I'm hungry, yeah, but I can just go find something.”

“Why go through all that trouble when you can have something now?” John asked, in slight disbelief that he was being so bold. Perhaps he couldn’t stand to see his friend twitch and squirm out of hunger, to see Paul drown in a puddle of his sweat. Or maybe he was just that damn fascinated on the notion of letting a real life vampire suck his blood.

Paul’s brows quivered and furrowed as he processed John’s words, or at least as well as he could process them in his current state. He wrung his hands, and John was just glad to see that he stopped clawing at his arm.

“Really?”

John nodded impatiently. “Look at you, son. You don’t look like yourself. You look awful.”

“Ta.”

“No, really. I can’t stand it.” John exhaled out of his nose in preparation to be upfront. “If it’ll help. Do what you gotta do.”

After some more awkward staring and gentle coaxing, Paul started to approach John. John offered his arm to Paul.

“I know a better way.”

John’s breath hitched in his throat when Paul leaned down, for he thought they were going to kiss until Paul’s hands braced on the sofa behind him which had them both falling into the cushions, John underneath Paul. John’s breath leaked from his lips, pouring into Paul’s mouth and making him realize in that moment that no air was leaving Paul. Not because he was holding his breath, but because Paul’s body was breathless.

The contact also revealed the warmth Paul lacked and how much firmer his body felt, not due to any extra muscle definition or anything, but Paul’s body was nearly hard, like drying clay. John made a soft noise when Paul pushed him further into the cushions, and he lifted his eyes to him. John gasped. 

Paul’s pupils had pinched into slits, and his chapped lips were parted to reveal two ivory colored fangs peeking out of his mouth. The humanity in Paul’s eyes that John had grown familiar with had vanished to be replaced by those of an avid hunter, and John started to wonder if he had made the right choice in being Paul’s personal blood bank.

“Paul—”

Paul dipped his head into the crook of John’s neck, and John whimpered when he felt his teeth sink into the meat of his skin. He grunted, squirming slightly underneath Paul as his friend latched on, his teeth hooking onto his flesh and his wet tongue dipping out to catch that blood that started to spill. Paul’s lips followed his teeth, wrapping around the bleeding area and sucking eagerly as Paul’s hand gripped the back of John’s neck and squeezed, like he was milking John for more of his essence. John wrapped his arms around Paul, unsure of what else to do with his hands, and rested his wrists against the flexing muscles, clenching his fists too hard to properly hold on. The position they were in forced John to spread his legs to make room for Paul, the obscene angle giving John no other choice but to notice the way Paul’s hips started to ground against John at their own accord. John hissed. What was Paul doing? Wasn’t he just supposed to be feeding? John groaned at a particularly harsh suck to his sensitive area, causing more blood to spill into Paul’s mouth and sending a hoard of moths to cloud John’s senses. 

John moaned, his eyes growing heavy alongside the rest of his body, causing him to grow limp as Paul slowly rocked on top of him, lapping hungrily against his puncture wounds. The stimuli Paul was providing with the drive of his hips felt better than they normally would have, as it was a sensation John was somewhat used to already. Maybe the blood loss enhanced it, or maybe Paul used some sort of twisted vampiric magic to arouse John further. Not that there was anything John could do about this intense arousal, seeing how compromised he was.

Paul released the hold he had on John’s neck, causing the other’s head to drop to the cushions. Paul lifted off John. 

*Someone looks brand fucking new* was the thought that coasted along the thick haze of John’s mind. Paul had returned to his usual color, all flushed and happy as he smirked down at John with his stained mouth, as John could only blink slowly up at Paul, a bit like a newborn kitten. Paul didn’t stop his movements, though, slowly driving his hips down and rubbing their clothed erections together, chuckling to himself as John could do nothing but moan and hang his head from side to side. John had reached peak nirvana, too lightheaded and weary to have any reservations about dry humping his mate, the curve of his cock rubbing against his was too addictive, and John didn’t know if he was going to be able to experience this again without Paul biting him first.

Paul draped his body over John’s, wrapping an arm around his waist as he picked up speed, the force of his hips jostled John’s limp form up and down, rendering John a useless whining ragdoll. A moan caught in John’s throat as he attempted to beg Paul’s name. Paul’s tongue licked at his neck, not allowing a drop of blood to go to waste.

“Ah–” John cut himself off with a gasp, his thighs weakly squeezing around Paul as he came in his jeans, flushing as much as he could when embarrassment crowded his chest. Paul, now emboldened by John’s orgasm, rocked furiously against the man, his grip on his waist tightened painfully, making John question for the first time the potential behind Paul’s newfound strength. John squeaked when Paul held his groin firmly against his, straining slightly as soft moans spilled from his mouth during his own orgasm. John was sweating and panting. Paul, on the other hand, was completely fine. He looked down at John and cocked his head, reaching down to push John’s sweaty fringe off his face.

“You alright?” Paul pushed off John and stood. John didn’t like the way lying on his back with parted legs felt, so he moved to stand as well.

“No. no, no,” Paul said, caressing John’s shoulders and guiding him back down to the couch, something John didn’t protest against as he felt like a crowd of flies swarmed his already blurry vision. “Just lay there. You need to recuperate. There.”

Paul laughed when John sank back onto the cushions, draping his arms over his face. He was too woozy to tell Paul off, letting the man slink off to the kitchen and give him something sweet to eat as he reflected on the new facet of their friendship, and how the dynamic would effloresce into something more passionate than it already was. 

[terrarain]

BNHA Volleyball AU

ramblings of someone who has been rewatching haikyuu and also a person who has been thinking about the bnha characters a lot.

i don't even play volleyball i'm like the least athletic person out there but the haikyuu and bnha brainrot is too strong lord help me

just me rambling on about what i think everybody's strengths and weaknesses would be.

SETTER – MIDORIYA IZUKU

Struggled a lot with confidence issues to begin with. As a result, he was slow to set and nerves made his sets incredibly shaky. 

After gaining more confidence, Midoriya is a terrifyingly good setter. He memorizes the little quirks of everyone and adjusts accordingly to accommodate them. Midoriya knows who’s a little more sluggish that day, who’s even more fired up on one day – he’s aware of it all. He has a close relationship with all of the team and is the sole individual who has everybody’s unfaltering trust.

His biggest flaw is overanalyzing situations. While Midoriya gets better as a setter, he still has moments especially in high-stress situations where he thinks too long and that can and has cost them a point at crucial times.

Extremely hard on himself when this happens. He probably takes losses the harshest and has a habit of blaming everything on himself. He has to learn that trust is a two-way street and that he needs to trust his teammates just as they trust him.

OUTSIDE (LEFT) HITTER – BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Aggressive. Explosive. Powerful. Bakugou is the team’s ace and he doesn’t let anyone forget it. He’s a force to be reckoned with, having had played volleyball since a very young age and practicing relentlessly.

Even though he looks like he has a temper on the field, he’s sly and doesn’t spike without thinking. Everything he does is intentional. Prefers to brute-force more than anything, though. If there’s a wall, you better bet that he’s going to blow a hole in the wall.

That said, Bakugou suffers greatly once he gets agitated. He has a temper that’s as explosive as his spikes and it makes his performance suffer greatly. Bro is already struggling to cooperate with the team -- it only gets worse when his temper is set off.

The only setter who can match Bakugou while Bakugou is pissed has only ever been Midoriya, who has the ability to adjust to every little quirk of Bakugou’s the same way he adjusts for everybody else (which greatly annoys Bakugou).

However, the team can’t solely rely on Midoriya when Bakugou gets irritated – because Bakugou becomes even more self-centred when pissed off. Bakugou has body-checked his own teammates in the heat of the moment and he has injured teammates in the past when his temper got the better of him.

Also, he has a nasty spike serve.

OUTSIDE (LEFT) HITTER – KIRISHIMA EIJOU

Probably the strongest member on the team. Kirishima’s attacks are simple all things considered, but god damn are they strong. He’s hardly as flashy as the other outside hitter, but Kirishima is still someone to fear on the court.

His spirit is contagious. One of the core members to keeping the team’s morale up, he shouts the most out of everybody (not counting Bakugou’s constant screams of ‘DIE’ everytime he spikes) and probably works the hardest to maintain a sunny smile.

However, Kirishima is lacking in the strategy department. His playstyle is straightforward and, on his own, Kirishima can be predictable. He’s not someone who does deception or overly complex plays; he charges right on forth.

His spirit can also be crushed fairly easily, though it’s not always immediately obvious – that said, Kirishima rebounds fast. He can bounce back without much delay – he decides to dwell on any struggles he has after the match.

OPPOSITE (RIGHT) HITTER – TODOROKI SHOUTO

The complete opposite of their other main spiker, Todoroki is known for his cool-headedness. He doesn’t specialize in one area and is instead a jack-of-all trades. However, one shouldn’t mistake Todoroki being an all-rounder for being weak in any area. Todoroki being an all-rounder is actually terrifying because he’s good in… well, everything. It’s kind of infuriating, actually, how good he is at everything.

It’s difficult to find flaws in the way Todoroki plays, but there is one. Todoroki doesn’t trust. He struggles to trust his teammates and it’s hard for him to get into a team mentality – he’s a solo player, which is an absolute no-go in a team sport. It’s a big hurdle that the team has to overcome because it limits Todoroki’s potential greatly.

He doesn’t properly convey how he feels, which can leave many things unchecked and, in a sport that demands team chemistry – that can be fatal. Todoroki is distant. His hesitance to budge even a little about his emotions is his fatal flaw.

Of course, this fella can do all three types of serves; spike, floater, topspin... everybody's immediately on edge whenever Todoroki's up to serve because it's hard to tell which of the three he'll go for.

MIDDLE BLOCKER – SHINSOU HITOSHI

He's a good at defending; he reads enemy movement well, which means he’s just a pain all around. He’s an analyzer and reads movements... he does a fair amount of guess-blocking and his success rate is pretty damn high.

Too good at taunting the enemy. Bro doesn’t shut up, dear lord. It’s a stark contrast to how he is off the field, since he’s normally a man of few words. He has a nasty tongue and is a pro at baiting the enemy. He’s by far the best on UA’s team when it comes to demoralizing the enemy or riling them up.

However, Shinsou’s attacks are weak. He’s weak when people place weight on him and him alone, because ultimately, he doesn’t trust himself. The guy is plagued with self-doubt and stuck in a mentality where he thinks that he needs to catch up, that he’s still not good enough, that he’s going to start lagging behind. He’s prone to overworking himself and overthinks and it really gets to him.

It’s something that he has to work on, his self-worth issues – it directly impacts his performance on court. The baseline is that Hitoshi is great at blocking. Pretty good at reading his enemies. He’s not bad overall, really, but his attacks can be frantic. Desperate, even – a reflection of his feelings of inferiority.

The type to serve the ball just right over the net - or a floater. His serves are annoying to receive because he always aims to break the other team's formation.

MIDDLE BLOCKER – SERO HANTA

Deceptively unassuming. People don’t usually expect much from him, but he’s solid all around. He’s on the lankier side. Sero is... the refresher? The refresher of UA’s team; he’s sturdy in the sense that he can remain collected even in high-stress situations. He's the one who helps the team reset when their plays are starting to get affected by stress.

He’s the person who fills in the gaps in blocks, which only make their walls even more impenetrable. Sero is able to pick up any stray pieces up that’s left behind by his team while just barely keeping up.

Unfortunately, that’s his struggle on the court. He can just barely keep up. His teammates all excel in an area and improve quickly. Sero struggles with breaking through his own limits and it takes him longer than his peers to find the breakthrough he needs to go above and beyond.

Only jumps to block after seeing where the set goes. Always read-blocking.

LIBERO – IIDA TENYA

Agonized a lot over this, actually. Still agonizing over it. Almost put him as a middle blocker which I think would be the most immediately obvious choice, but, y'know, the man’s quirk is that he can make himself go fast. That’s, like, a core part of his whole thing in the BNHA universe. So I think he’d be similarly quick. Quick enough to be a libero, who’s already there to keep the ball afloat when nobody else is fast enough to catch it.

(That said, I’m still not entirely convinced because I think Shinsou would work as a libero too; lithe and catlike, always ready to chase the ball; and Iida would be a very solid wall against spikers and quite formidable as an unrelenting person. So Iida and Shinsou’s positions are interchangable.)

Iida is quick to move. Another person who tends to analyze and think, he positions himself appropriately and his success rate is pretty high overall. Though he’s not so good at reading people, Iida has a knack for reading the court situation. He may be stiff at times, but he’s reliable and just has that vibe of ‘leave it to me!’, y’know?

That said, Iida can do a lot with making himself more flexible. Iida is a planner and serious to a fault – he can jump the gun in the occasions he makes a misjudgement and it can mess him up. His overcommittance to his plays can end up working against him.

[lovejustforaday]

2023 Year End List - #15

The Love Invention - Alison Goldfrapp

Main genres: House, Dance Pop

A decent sampling of: Tech House, Future House, Synth Pop, Nu-Disco, Italo-Disco, Synthwave

Alison Goldfrapp is seriously one of my favourite vocalists ever.

Her trademark soft, airy coos remind me of the ephemeral beauty of life, while her restrained, seductive sighs are reminiscent of the immaculate Dionysian pleasures of the sensory world. And of course there's the occasion that she treats us to her operatic feats of fantastic proportions.

Having already formed one half of what is in my opinion the best duo in alternative electronic music history, making music together with her collaborator Will Gregory for roughly 20 years, and releasing not one but two stunning masterpieces of the noughties that set the gold standard for genres like downtempo and folktronica, it appears that Alison finally decided to set out on a new chapter in her life. And having done all that, I would like to think that anyone would have more than earned the right to do so.

When I heard there was going to be a new Alison Goldfrapp solo project in 2023, naturally I got super hyped, but I also didn't know exactly what to expect.

As a duo, Goldfrapp have been a modest sort of musical chameleons. Nearly always some flavour of electronic and indie/alternative, but regularly exploring the polar opposite ends of both these worlds. They are just as likely to embrace dark surrealism as they are to go full on retro kitsch.

But across multiple projects, its been clear for a while that Alison Goldfrapp has a particular love and affinity for spunky electronic dance music. So i guess in the end I wasn't all too surprised that her new record would end up sounding something like this.

The Love Invention is an effervescent house record full of mechanical muscle and propulsion. Alison Goldfrapp conveys unbridled euphoria at nearly every turn of this record, with flashy light show electronics constructed in part by enlisting co-producers James Greenwood, Toby Scott, and Richard X most famously known for his work with Norwegian pop star Annie. The moon mist ice cream colour palette of the album cover is not an overstatement of its contents by any means; this is a rainbow explosion.

For those of you keeping score at home, I would rank this somewhere firmly in the middle among Goldfrapp's records as a duo. That is to say, better than Supernature and Silver Eye, roughly on par with Black Cherry, and a tier or two below Felt Mountain, Seventh Tree, Head First, and Tales of Us. A B-Tier Alison Goldfrapp project, if you will, which is still a big compliment cause it's Alison Fucking Goldfrapp.

"Digging Deeper Now" is all tech-y and hyper-utopian, sitting atop a crystalline pyramid of interconnected synths that all seem to be building towards something greater. Music for reaching an elevated mindset on the dancefloor.

"Fever (This is the Real Thing)" is a thrilling future house tour-de-force, like floating in the middle of a rapidly flowing tunnel made up of glowing bands of metallic light. It pounds everything in its path into a fine glitter dust that coats the ears. When I mentioned 'effervescent' earlier, THIS is the track I was mostly referring to. Alison also really knows how to carry the hook on this one to make it sound like the most important defining thing ever.

The album briefly winds down as Alison ventures into a world of heavenly trap production on "Subterfuge". It sounds crazy on paper, and probably shouldn't work as well as it does, but I honestly love the sound design and her vocals blends seamlessly with this style. A lavish dip into silky dream pools.

"So Hard So Hot" takes the formation of stars through the intense density and heat of nuclear fusion, and turns it into a dancefloor banger of rippling synths that rain down onto the earth with the spectacular brilliance of a meteor shower. Those synths are one serious hell of an earworm. Could definitely do with a ten minute version of this track.

Like a lot of house records, it definitely has its more nondescript moments. "The Beat Divine" and "Gatto Gelato" have a lot of rhythm and hype that will definitely get my feet moving, but neither has much staying power for me.

But overall this is a very refreshing take on multiple house and EDM subgenres, fusing the best of different scenes into high-charged dancefloor hybrids with pop hooks and Alison Goldfrapp's goddessly vocals.

The Love Invention makes good on its promise of being a vibrant, technicolor sensory overload that will get your feet moving and your ass shaking, with more than enough memorable production quirks giving it some of the highest replay value of any of the EDM I've listened to this year. Another day, another slay for the queen of surreal electronica.

8/10

Highlights: "So Hard, So Hot", "Fever (This Is The Real Thing)", "Digging Deeper Now", "Subterfuge", "In Electric Blue"

[reiding-writing]

hi could i pretty pls request a cold!reader fic where maybe she gives spencer a kiss on the cheek?? or on the forehead, if not a kiss maybe a hug?

bonus point if the team is there 💖💖💖

ADRENALINE — SPENCER REID!

you and spencer get caught in an explosion, and you’ll be damned if you don’t both get out of it.

s9!spencer x cold!reader 1.1k h/c cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist. | part two.

a/n — not quite in kissing territory yet, but we’re getting there 🙂‍↕️✊

You cough through clouds of smoke, blinking ash from your eyes.

The ground is rough and unsteady under your feet, but you don’t care, you have more important things to worry about.

“Reid?” You’re mid cough as you call out his name, your lungs trying desperately to clean their lining of the soot you’re breathing in.

You hold your sleeve over your mouth and nose, but it doesn’t help very much against the amount of spot fires you’re passing by.

“Reid?” your voice echoes weakly through the destroyed corridor, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the groans of the building. Metal beams creak ominously above you, and bits of debris crumble from the ceiling.

Every step you take feels like it could be your last on solid ground, but you don’t stop. You can’t stop, not yet.

You step over a fallen beam, boots crunching over shattered glass. The air is thick with heat and acrid smoke, but the thought of him—Spencer, somewhere in this chaos, possibly hurt, possibly worse—drives you forward.

Your mind races. You don’t even know where he could be, only that he was nearby when the explosion hit. He had been right behind you, hadn't he? He couldn’t be too far.

“Spencer?” This time his name comes out in a strangled yell. Your voice trembles as much as your legs do, exhaustion setting in from the uneven footing and lack of oxygen.

A faint noise catches your attention—a groan, or was it a cough? You freeze, ears straining to locate the sound. “Reid?” you yell again, heart pounding as you veer left, pushing aside a half-collapsed doorframe.

And then you see him. Crumpled against a wall, his head slumped forward, a streak of soot smeared across his cheek. His chest is rising and falling—slowly, but steadily. Relief slams into you like a tidal wave, so forceful it nearly knocks you to your knees.

“Hey-!” you exhale, rushing to him. You drop to the ground beside him, ignoring the pain that shoots through your knees as you skid on the debris. “Hey— can you hear me?” Your hands are shaking as you gently touch his shoulder, afraid to jostle him too much.

He stirs slightly, his head tipping back against the wall as his bleary eyes blink up at you. “...I’m okay—” he croaks, his voice barely audible.

Something inside you snaps. Before you can stop yourself, you pull him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you bury your face against the top of his head. It’s instinctive, a reaction born out of the sheer terror of almost losing him.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you mutter, your voice thick with relief and raw emotion. He doesn’t respond immediately, but you feel his arm weakly rise to rest against your back.

“I... didn’t mean to,” he whispers hoarsely, and despite everything, the corners of your lips twitch into a shaky smile.

The building groans again, a sharp reminder that this moment of safety is fleeting. You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands lingering on his shoulders. “Can you walk?”

He nods faintly, though he winces as he shifts. “I think so.”

“Good. We need to leave. Now.”

You sling his arm over your shoulder, steadying him as he leans heavily against you. His legs are shaky, and every step he takes is slow and labored, but you don’t let up.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins is the only thing keeping you upright, the only thing keeping your mind focused on one task: getting the two of you out of this godforsaken building.

The air grows thicker the further you move through the wreckage, the smoke burning your lungs with every shallow breath. The groans of the building are getting louder now, the structure threatening to collapse at any moment.

“Just a little further,” you say, though you have no idea if that’s true. Spencer doesn’t respond, his head lolling slightly against your shoulder, but he keeps moving.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you see light breaking through the smoke—a gaping hole where part of the wall has crumbled. Fresh air rushes in, and you feel a spark of hope. “There,” you say, your voice tight. “Almost there,”

The two of you stumble toward the opening, and the moment you step through, the sound of voices shouting your names cuts through the chaos. Relief floods you as you spot the rest of the team rushing toward you.

“Over here!” you call out, your voice cracking from the strain.

Emily and Morgan reach you first, their faces a mixture of relief and urgency. Derek takes Spencer from you, easing him onto the ground while Emily steadies you. “We’ve got him,” she says firmly, her hands gripping your arms. “You’re okay now.”

You nod, the weight of the ordeal finally starting to settle over you as you allow a second for your adrenaline to subside. But as you try to take a step toward Spencer, your legs buckle. Pain shoots through your thigh, sharp and unrelenting, and your vision blurs.

“Hey—” Emily’s voice is urgent, her grip tightening as you collapse against her. “What’s wrong?”

You try to speak, but the words don’t come. Your hand instinctively moves to your leg, and when you pull it away, your fingers are slick with blood. A gash, deep and ugly, runs along your thigh—a wound you hadn’t even noticed in the chaos.

“Medic-!” Emily shouts, her voice cutting through the haze.

The last thing you see before the darkness takes over is Spencer, his gaze locked on you despite the chaos around him. His lips move, forming your name, but you’re already falling into unconsciousness.

— part two.

[notquiteinsane]

I, conversely, love to complicate things and have a wrench to throw in the works.

So, what if some metas (or in variable ways among all metas) aren't always providing power from their own energy reserves? Increased metabolic rates present in Barry are well explored, accounted for, and dealt with. His interactions with/access to the Speed Force are a somewhat special case when it comes to exposure to dark matter as MK was saying re:electricity exposure during the explosion. Not everyone with electricity interactions got speedy, basically.

The increased metabolic rates of other metas aren't explored and we can say that's because of Barry's main character syndrome or lazy writing or being "outside the scope of this class". BUT what IF for my OWN AMUSEMENT the energy for some metas (I'm thinking fondly of Shawna and Hartley) doesn't increase metabolic rates because the energy isn't provided by the body at all? Dark matter is a weird and mcguffin-esque substance for the most part, yeah? And it's already proven extra-dimensional access for people like Cisco and Barry. Sooooo... what if extra-dimensional energy requirements aren't necessarily fulfilled by energies from our 3D plane?

Consider a fourth or fifth dimensional being. Their energy burn isn't always going to be refueled by three dimensional food.

Maybe for some metas, upon access to their powers, they also gain a partial access to their extra-dimensional selves?

Shawna might not be deconstructing herself and reconstructing herself elsewhere. She might be, say, "stepping" into a fourth dimensional space and then back out into three dimensional space. In which case, the only real output of power is the cognition necessary to think about moving in a dimension that isn't wholly normal. Her powers may just allow her that particular cognitive ability.

Hart might not be creating sonic ripples, but rather converting an extra-dimensional energy to its 3D equivalent-- sound. His hearing sensitivity might allow him to "hear" or otherwise sense that extra-dimensional energy and his cognitive abilities allow him a similar movement style as Shawna, but only for a particular flavor and output of energy.

The concept of hot and cold with Caitlin is interesting as well because in science (hello I am a chemist) there's no such thing as cold. There is only lack of heat. Temperature is the average energy contained within a set of molecules. Dead bodies don't get cold because they're absorbing cold, they get cold because they're equilibrating to ambient temperature by giving off heat. And because they're dead, metabolic processes don't replace the heat. So, for Caitlin, rather than bringing in cold, she's expelling her metabolic heat to an extra-dimensional space (which perhaps people like Ronnie or Jax or Stein have some partial access to?) either consciously or subconsciously. Creation of ice.... eehhh... superpowers. Hand waving. Unless she's pulling ambient moisture and then expelling the heat from that. OR she's pulling 4D material from somewhere, converting it to a 3D material, and creating some kind of 4D waste which is discarded as, say, more energy/heat.

Then again I am also a huge fan of torpor-like states so now I want that to work as well. Maybe that's Cait's payment for doing so much energy conversion consciously or subconsciously. She kicks out too much body heat too often and her safety mechanism pops in to be like "woah babe slow down" and she sits in torpor until her insides warm back up, extra-dimensionally.

Maybe all metas have something like this. Hartley just gets really cold sometimes because the conversion of extra-dimensional energy to a vibration needs some kind of fuel, right? He can do it because he's smart, but the brain takes a lot of calories. Just not a 1:1 situation like Barry's. Or he needs more of a certain kind of protein or vitamin or mineral--

Speaking of, to keep Cait's blood from freezing, she needs unusually high amounts of certain vitamins because vitamins help to fold proteins (look up the physical mechanism behind scurvy).

:)

i know it was his show and all but it's sooo boring that the flash gave us all this info about how barry's powers affect his biology and yet did not do a single thing for the other metas outside of the cool shit they can do with their powers, so i've decided it's my new headcanon that in contrast with barry, who has to eat significantly more to compensate for all the energy he burns while running, caitlin has an incredibly slow metabolism due to her low body temperature. she often forgets to eat because of this, and instead of sleeping, she goes into a torpor-like state to conserve energy. bonus points if she does it with her eyes open because it's creepier and therefore sick as fuck. imagine cisco walking into the cortex and the motion detector lights are off so he assumes he's alone, until the lights come on and caitlin is sat at her desk, staring straight and unblinkingly ahead like a doll in a horror movie, with an almost undetectably slow pulse, pale and unresponsive as a corpse, and----cisco, why are you screaming, she's fine

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Dishonorably Discharged and Detained

Alpha Shark Man x Gender Neutral Omega Reader (CW: Dubcon, a/b/o, omega reader, DILF, size difference, shark man, merman, biting, marking, claiming, heat cycles, breeding, kidnapping, force fed reader, reader is briefly shocked by an electric fence, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 4.7k (18 minutes into March and already a fic is posted! This was written as a birthday gift for a friend, happy birthday, you know who you are, my longest friendship and trusted confidant. I hope you all enjoy this. Also I tagged this as a merman because I think it qualifies, even without a fish tail a person who is part fish counts. I will die on this hill.)

The dreadnought you were on sailed at a fair pace, ever forward, back to your base. It had been deployed to the front but the battle was over before you even had a chance to arrive, enemy presence in the area had been way overestimated and your unit had not been needed. The sea ahead of you lie calm and serene, the sun scintillating off the surface of the water and the salty breeze kissed your skin, feeling pleasant in your stuffy uniform. You were second in command of the ship directly behind Admiral Reeves, you were an omega but with hard work and perseverance you had managed to defy all expectations of what an omega could be, ranking higher than many alphas your age. This caused some issues when you had first achieved your current rank, but over time you had gained the respect and obedience of those under you as well as the respect of your superiors. You had become invaluable to Admiral Reeves both as a hard worker, a motivator of the troops, and even a strategist he could always call upon for a second opinion when planning on how to engage an enemy force or escape a harrowing situation. That wasn’t to say things were completely easy for you, whenever you were docked or dealing with other service members that were not in your unit you always had to stand strong against harassment and catcalls. And being constantly surrounded by so many alphas, and the pheromones that accompanied them, could sometimes make you more than a bit dizzy. Admiral Reeves’ pheromones were among the most potent, he was not a regular human like most of your peers. He was a shark man. A hybrid species that had been genetically engineered decades ago to help humans explore the seas and get an advantage in maritime combat. Reeves’ heritage was obvious. His sharp teeth, the fin on his back, webbed fingers, gills at the base of his neck, and pale blue skin giving him away to any who saw him. He was likely in his early fifties, it was slightly hard to tell though given he wasn’t completely human, but his short hair had an attractive peppering of grey. As mentioned previously his pheromones were much stronger than an average alpha’s. Probably because he was significantly larger than a normal human. It made being an omega near him all the time slightly difficult, but the main difficulty was that sometimes his cool headed handle on his instincts slipped a bit and he could be just a slight bit overprotective of you. He never disrespected you or questioned your ability to carry out your duties though. After enjoying a few minutes of sunlight and salty sea air you began to make your way back below deck to the dorsal side of the bow where the bridge was contained, you had to make contact with the mainland and give them your coordinates and estimated time of arrival. But before you could even leave the deck a sudden explosion sent you flying. You remained conscious just long enough to notice your right arm and leg were bleeding. You tried to get up but within seconds you collapsed. The next few weeks were a blur that you were almost entirely unconscious for, with only brief fragments of confused awareness. You remembered seeing medics above you, you remember a moment of being in the ship’s medical bay as the ship weaponry fired, and you remembered being awake several times briefly in a hospital bed. When you finally, REALLY, woke up you were in significant pain. Your arm and leg that you had seen bleeding were both in a cast with your leg suspended, your vision was a bit blurry, and your head was throbbing. You had great trouble concentrating, it took great effort to collect yourself and assess your situation. You were no longer in the ship’s medical bay and there were no windows in your room, it seemed very minimalist. Probably a military hospital on base. There was nothing really much you could do other than just try to relax and let yourself heal, eventually a nurse walked in and immediately rushed over to you to check your vitals and ask you a few questions to make sure you were fully aware and awake. After doing so she hurriedly rushed out, staff was under strict orders to notify Reeves the second that you were awake. Since the ship you had been stationed on, The Sentinel, was docked for repairs Reeves was currently at the naval base that you were receiving treatment from and it did not take long for him to be notified about your updated condition and come speeding to your side. You could tell immediately by his scent he had not been getting much sleep and he had been more than a bit anxious. Not surprising, probably lost some good soldiers in that battle and then having to wait as the ship was repaired or for him to get a new assignment was probably pretty stressful. You could have never imagined that the reason for his recent distress had actually been your hospitalization. But it had affected him in ways he would not have thought previously possible. He stood beside you with a huge grin on his face. On anyone and to anyone else it may have been frightful, given the sharp nature of his teeth, but you knew it was a good sign. “Nice to see you awake after you’ve been lazing about in bed for a few weeks, haha,” he joked with his typical sense of humor before his face got grim and he took on a more solemn tone, “But... in all seriousness… It’s good to see you’re okay. We lost some good ones in that attack. Sunk the bastards that did it though.” You took a moment of silence before breaking the tension. “Don’t worry, fish breath, after a short recovery I will be their worst nightmare. I will sink their entire navy myself.” Reeves hastily hid a worried expression at the thought of you returning to duty, you didn’t know what the expression was for but it was probably just a bit of stress piercing through that rough exterior of his. “Heh, yeah. I’m sure. The little pipsqueak is gonna have them all on the ropes. They’ll piss themselves,” he chuckled heartily, though it sounded just a wee bit forced. After some small talk and him telling you about the casualties and general condition of everything he reluctantly left, after the nurse shooed him away to let you rest. For the next 5 to 6 weeks it seemed like resting was all you could really do and by the time you were ready to be released and begin physical therapy to get back to tip top shape you were really ready to get out of bed. Over the course of your recovery Reeves continued to visit you, really just about everyday that he could, to see how you were progressing and he seemed to be increasingly anxious about you returning to duty. Now that you were out of bed that anxiety seemed too palpable for you to ignore and finally, after he had given you a nervous look when you mentioned your excitement to be seaworthy right as The Sentinel was nearly ready to depart, you decided to just ask him about it. “It may just be me but… it seems like you don’t really want me back on duty…” “What that’s crazy!” he said in a manner that had you wholly unconvinced. You crossed your arms, tilted your head slightly, and stared at him with an expression that said “really?” He sighed deeply before finally admitting outright what he had been thinking since the moment you had been taken to the ship’s med bay. “Look… I know you are a talented sailor but… are you sure you should keep doing this?” You were stunned, mouth agape in shock, but he took your silence as an opportunity to press forward with his line of logic. “I mean… you have a smaller frame than anyone else. The doctors did not know if you would survive at first and the doctors said that even a beta, let alone an alpha, with a larger body would not have been so damaged by the blast or so endangered by the blood loss,” once he started saying all this the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth, like he had been damming them up and it had finally burst allowing him to unleash a torrent of his thoughts on the matter. There was of course much more to it than that, he was in love with you, but even if he had been honest about not wanting you back in combat he could not be completely honest with you or with himself on why exactly he was so adamant. You were speechless a moment more before becoming absolutely indignant. “SEVERAL people passed away in that battle, and all of them were all alphas, war doesn’t spare anyone!” Normally someone speaking to their direct superior in such a manner would be reprimanded but you were beyond caring at this point. “That may be true, but being smaller and more fragile doesn’t help your chances. And you have always been a bit accident prone…” Not an entirely unwarranted criticism, you did tend to be a bit accident prone, though all of those were minor injuries, nothing serious until now, but having enemy ammunition go off near you was hardly your fault and anyone, regardless of body or constitution, would have been injured by such a situation. Incredulous at his comments you stormed off, he called out behind you but you kept going on. That night you didn’t get much rest and you were irritable the next morning. But that did not compare you to the anger you had when you reported in the next morning and had Reeves tell you that he did not want you working with him anymore, he wanted you off the ship working in a safer non-combat capacity. You just stormed off once again to get reassigned to another combat ship. It didn’t have to be glamorous, it could be a fucking submarine for all you cared. It hurt, and it hurt bad, that you would not be with your former crew, or with the leader you had grown to consider a friend, but in battle was where you were meant to be. You put in for reassignment and vacillated between anger, grief, and feelings of betrayal for the remainder of the day. As at the end of everyday you made your way to the omega barracks. You were the only one using them currently, unlike on the ships there were fresh recruits trained on site so separate sleeping arrangements were made. It was hard but eventually you managed to push your raging emotions aside and go to sleep. Reeves had heard about your reassignment, he figured you might be difficult. Instead of asking for a non-combative position you had of course just let them reassign you to another dreadnought. He couldn’t just tank your career to get you out of the front lines, you had too impeccable of a record for anyone to believe that and too many sailors that would vouch for you, no, he would have to instead use his ties to have you erased completely. The shark was a very high ranking admiral with ties to the intelligence agencies and it was within his power to do such a thing, considering you had no civilian friends or family to poke around, and anyone in the navy who might poke around could easily be brushed off or told that you had passed away in the line of duty. So in the dead of night you were disappeared. Operatives quickly snuck in and made their way to your sleeping form, quickly injecting you with a serum that would keep you completely unconscious for many hours and then shoving you into a black sack. You woke up from probably what could be described as the deepest and most fulfilling sleep you had ever known, and then you looked around and realized that you were most certainly not where you had gone to sleep. Gone were the rows of bunk beds that had filled the small omega barracks room, replaced by a small room without any windows, blank walls, and harsh lights. It all seemed very… antiseptic. Too clean. Too empty. You went to the door, which had a small barred hole window, and tried to open it, but it was completely sealed with no way to open it without the key. But you were stubborn and shouted a few curses while trying to force it open anyway. This proved to be a mistake, as it summoned your captor. Reeves. “Admiral!? What the fuck!?! Where are we? Why am I being detained?” He looked at you and with a regretful sigh said, “You just… wouldn’t listen to reason. And I couldn’t lose you.” “My god… You’re absolutely insane! You can’t just cage me up like I am some sort of animal just because I don’t want to live my life how you want me to!” “I AM NOT INSANE!! You refused to see reason! I love you and couldn’t have you in danger anymore and you just wanted to charge in and get hurt. Your injury was a sign that it needed to stop. YOU NEED TO BE SAFE!” You flinched back, unaccustomed to him being so loud and angry. At seeing you recoil his face softened and his tone became much more quiet. “Look, you’ll get used to it here okay? I know the room is a bit bare but we can put whatever you want in here, okay? The war will be over soon and I will be able to be home and then you can move in with me.” You looked down, angry and depressed and betrayed, unable to meet his gaze. Finally he sighed heavily and mumbled that he would have someone bring you some food but he had to go. That’s largely how life went for you there for roughly a year. Facility staff would take care of your day to day needs and every few months, or sometimes weeks, you would get a visit from Reeves. Each time he would offer you some gift or trinket, repeating his confessions of love and care for you. He gave you sweets, blankets, plushies, flowers, and various other things. The blankets and plushies were scented by him, in typical courting fashion, but no matter what the item was you shoved it in the farthest corner of the room. Except the sweets, they would have expired, so instead you would immediately throw them at him. Reeves was more than distraught, not only were his attempts to advance a relationship with you not succeeding, but the friendship you had before was totally eroded. Till, the most important thing above all else was that you remained safe, and once the war ended, which would be any day now, he would be able to move you to his house and take care of you daily himself. When the war was finally over and the time had come for you to be transported to your new happy home with your captor and the destroyer of your life you fought the personnel that were trying to put you in the transport van that had been loaded with all of your things tooth and claw. Literally. You clawed and bit everyone who got near you, you would rather live in a boring glorified cage for the rest of your life than be in a house with Reeves. Finally they had you held down by multiple men and once again injected with a sedative. And, just like a somewhat uncertain amount of months previously, you woke up in a strange room. This time on a couch though. A blanket had been lovingly put on top of you and a soft pillow placed behind your head. This was obviously Reeves’ house. Unlike last time you had been informed of your destination before being abducted. It appeared you were in a modified basement, you looked around, searching for anything that may be useful as a weapon. Sadly, it seemed the room had been left clear of anything you could use to fight Reeves with. There were tiny windows, but they were not only really high up but also really small. Even if you could somehow manage to eat them you would never manage to squeeze through them. There was really only one course of action left for you. You took the blanket that had been left down here for you and waited at the door for Reeves to come down and check on you. When he finally opened it you hid behind it until he took a few steps down. You then threw the blanket over his head and kicked his legs as hard as you could making him stumble, you took the opening to push him down the steps and flee out of the basement. You came up into a hallway that connected to the living room and rushed out the door. You were more than a bit shaky, you had no shoes, and your body was weak but pushed on by a potent mix of sheer force of will and a strong dose of adrenaline allowed you to propel yourself forward. You ran down the driveway and came to a fence that was entirely locked up. No problem. You could scale this with ease, flee into the woods that seemed to surround this area, and eventually find help on the other side. But the second you touched the fence and electric current ran through your body, causing you to twitch and fall down stunned. It was electrified. Because of course it was. For someone he was worried about dying in battle he sure as shit did not seem to underestimate you when it came to you trying to escape. It didn’t take long for him to come running, you had hoped you may have been lucky enough to at least have broken a leg or ankle as he fell, but it seems he was unperturbed by his recent push. You were too shaky at this point to do anything other than let him pick you up and hold you close. “It’s okay, I know you’re scared, I forgive you for pushing me. And sorry about the fence, can’t take any chances.” He carried you back down to the basement and sat you down gently on the couch, laying the blanket that you had formerly used as a weapon on top of you before kissing your forehead, which made you flinch away in disgust. “Now that we are living together I will be able to give you the non-stop attention you deserve. I am sure you will love it here eventually, okay?” “Not okay you absolute fucking idiot, there is no way in the world I will ever love you or even remotely tolerate your presence! Just let me go! The war is already over anyway.” “There is always another war eventually and I must keep you safe from yourself. I just can't risk losing you, can’t you understand that?” You just scoffed in response and pulled the cover over your face so you didn’t have to look at him. Reeves tried rubbing your arm comfortingly through the blanket, and you could do nothing to stop given how shaken up you still were, but he could smell in your scent that you were growing increasingly angry and even a bit anxious at his touch so he finally retreated upstairs to make you a nice dinner. He remembered from years of service with you that you got pretty cranky when you were hungry. When he came back he brought with him a bowl of delicious smelling crab bisque, something he thought was fairly light and easily digestible, but not too light and still full of nutrients. He sat the bowls down on the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of the couch from you. “Sorry about the furniture accommodations. I will move a table and bed down here for you eventually. At some point you will share my bed but I felt like an adjustment period might be good for you first.” “Yeah, so I don’t murder you in your sleep,” you said dryly and without any hint of it being a joke. “Y-you don’t mean that, you’re just a bit cranky because you need some foo-” **CRASH** He was interrupted by you using your hand to smack the bowl of bisque right the fuck off the table and into the hard concrete wall, not unlike a cat that had taken offense to a cup on a table. “It’s… okay… I made more than enough. I know this has been hard on you.” All you did was blankly stare at him as he went and procured another bowl. It smelled great and you were well and truly hungry, but you refused to give in. If you made sure not to eat too much your body would not trigger a heat because it would take too much energy. You also just wanted to piss him off, maybe get him so pissed off that he either lets you go or at least makes some mistakes that you can exploit. When he handed you the second bowl he had gotten for you it immediately met the same fate as its predecessor. He stared at you for a long moment that seemed to span an eternity before he angrily grabbed his bowl of food and pulled you close to him by his arm. He pinched your nose closed so you had to open your mouth and then he shoved a spoonful of food into your mouth, then he held his hand over your mouth so you had to swallow. Reeves continued this a couple times until you got the memo and ate the rest of the bowl willingly. Well… you had wanted him to be pissed. Over the course of weeks you had to accept that you just had to eat what you were given, but by no means did you just give up on making life inconvenient for him. Every gift tossed, any furniture he brought down here destroyed, blankets shredded, anytime he scented something it would be immediately quarantined to the closet after its destruction. The only thing you kept was clothing you deemed acceptable and without his smell on it, you needed clothes but would not accept any with his pheromones. That could be misconstrued as you accepting courtship. You were perfectly content with denying him any ounce of love, affection, or friendship and you were right in the middle of giving a nice silent treatment when finally the proper nutrition and your omega nature convened to ruin everything. You were in heat. Heats were very strong on a normal day, but this was not a normal heat, this was the first heat in a very long time. You had prevented them for a long time in the black site and when you were in the navy of course you took prescribed suppressants. You hadn’t had one in years. Tremors shook your body, you couldn’t stand and your body temperature was heightened. They didn’t call it a heat for nothing. Your brain was addled, you were dizzy and almost delirious, you could barely remember why you were here. You tossed off the covers and stripped down to your slick soaked underwear. Reeves was awoken by an amazing scent and knew immediately what it was, your pheromones beckoning him even from his bedroom, his darling needed him desperately. The smell demanded he come immediately to you and comfort you and take care of you in every way imaginable. Reeves saw you there before him, writhing in carnal need and so small and helpless in front of him. The couch wouldn’t do, he needed a bigger and more familiar space, he took you up to his room where he had actually made and maintained a nest made of things that smelled of the both of you. Despite a vague notion in the back of your mind telling you to avoid him, scratch him, and leave this situation, your instincts and the powerful consequences of having denied yourself your natural cycle DEMANDED that you bury your nose into the scent gland of his neck. So strong, such a strong mate. Reeves was elated, his brain was very much fogged too with lust and instinct but he didn’t have it as badly as you did. He was very much aware that his darling mate was finally accepting and even actively seeking out comfort from him. The shark man peeled off your slick saturated underwear, sniffing at your hole, breathing in the heavenly aroma you made, before your cries of desperation and something inside of him told him to slide his tongue right inside. Finally you began to feel the smallest amount of relief. It wasn’t enough, you needed a knot. A nice big knot from a nice big alpha, and this one smelled strong. You grinded yourself into his probing tongue, whimpering for much more. After several minutes of this he decided that was enough of getting your flavor and he was now ready to properly breed and mark his sweet little brat. He took off his clothes, revealing his large well muscled pecs, lightly scarred from years of combat, and his large cock. The musk coming from it made you drool. He wasted no time ramming into you, as caught up in the moment as he was he had little concern for going slow or for any possible discomfort. Fortunately there was none, you were perfectly primed for his large prick. It slid in you perfectly hitting all the right spots inside of you, causing you to squeal with delight when he bottomed out, deep within you. He moaned himself when he felt your heat and how every movement you made, every shudder, squirm, and all that writhing, he could feel on his cock. He started slow at first, but that was not what either of you wanted and soon it turned into a messy slamming of you, making hot wet sounds as he battered your innards with his cock pistoning in and out. It did not take long at all for his knot to start to swell within you and then reach its full size, sealing the two of you together whether or not you would want it when post heat clarity hit you. You clung to him tightly as he bred you, nails clawing at the skin of his back, as if trying to pull him deeper inside you. He nuzzled into your neck, his nose swimming in your scent as he breathed it in, this is what he had wanted for so long and now he knew he would never regret his actions, everything had been worth it. Reeves licked your neck and bit down on your scent gland, sharp teeth buried into your neck, you whimpered at the sensation and he licked your neck comfortingly, holding you close as you both shared a powerful orgasm. You both panted from the intensity, the heat that was burning up your will power and clarity fading a bit, but not enough to be yourself again. Reeves knew on some level that when things went back to normal you would still resist him, and your convictions would not be so altered in subsequent heats now that you had one after so long, but this was a good start to everything finally falling into place. Your heat would last days and there would be a lot of breeding and a lot of bonding. His instinct to protect you would only get stronger and you would be a bit more susceptible to his pheromones and would naturally seek him out for comfort when in distress. He may have been part fish, but it was you who were caught in his net.

[dizzydennis]

Sonic x Metal Sonic Cover Story!

Translator note: I am not totally fluent in Japanese so please understand that my translations are not perfect, but I hope you can enjoy this fun story. Any constructive criticism is appreciated.

Deep within Dr. Eggman’s abandoned, secret lab... a robot connected to a database booted up made note of the current situation. The evaluation was as followed:

[[Current status... "unfavorable"]]

While this robot was in rest for maintenance, Dr. Eggman was once again defeated by Sonic. Yet again, “he” was unable to rush to protect his master from crisis.

The same amount of bitterness stirred inside him... or perhaps even more.

It longed for the opportunity to defeat Sonic.

This mechanical piece of intelligence was known as “Metal Sonic” and it was created for the sole purpose of destroying Sonic. It continued to analyze the situation:

[[Current status is "unfavorable"]]

☆ ★ ☆

"Speed ​​Highway" is a super-three-dimensional highway that runs through a plethora of high-rise buildings.

It has many acceleration lanes such as the “360-degree rotating loop” that rises to the sky and a corkscrew that stretches into a large spiral. It attracts the souls of speed enthusiasts everywhere!

Sonic was running around in good spirits as he hummed to himself.

CRASH!!

Suddenly, something attacked Sonic head-on! He barely avoided it as the road just ahead turned into a pile of rubble from such a shattering impact. Sonic let out a gleeful grin.

“I’m worried. You didn’t damage yourself with that stunt, did ya, Metal?”

It was, in fact, Metal Sonic that stood up from the rubble.

Metal gave a piercing, sharp gaze towards Sonic. Within a second, he quickly closed the gap between the two of them while pointing his left hand to Sonic.

“Hey! Isn’t that--!?”

It was the flickering of a Chaos Emerald. Metal’s other hand pointed to the innermost parts of Speed Highway. It was unwavering.

Sonic instantly understood what Metal Sonic meant.

“You’re gonna bet that in a competition against me? That doesn’t seem very fair now, does it?”

Sonic then took out his all of the Chaos Emeralds he had on him.

“Alright, Metal! This is for real then. All or nothing!”

In an instant, two blue shadows dashed out onto the street, illuminated by the lights of the skyscrapers at dusk. The race that moved faster than the speed of sound had begun!

☆ ★ ☆

As the sound barrier was broken, the rush of wind echoed through the elevated roads that were cast as a valley between the buildings.

A corkscrew twisted down from a 360-degree loop as it curved to the right and then to the left. It then went into a spiral that took them up and down and all around.

Sonic lightly traced across the road’s surface as he felt enthralled by the difficult course of the Speed Highway. Metal Sonic was able to glide across the road with the use of a jet engine.

The race continued with the two hedgehogs barely gaining a step on each other, but a big change occurred in the middle of the course. A super long and sharp curve came out after a speedy decent. Metal Sonic decided to engage in some close combat before this area.

He boosted forward as his body entered this shocking, electromagnetic state. It was a sudden attack, but Sonic was able to avoid it. He must have read his moves. Metal Sonic’s energy output temporarily dropped at the end of the boost as he slowed down; just as planned. He could clear the curve with just the right amount of speed. Sonic had to slow down here too and Metal Sonic had nothing to lose!

Everything was going fine, but at that moment, Sonic was speeding up and approaching fast. Metal Sonic’s thoughts became fragmented if only for a moment.

[[......!?]]

Sonic, as he started to tumble off the side of the course due to his great speed, had put his hand out and grabbed Metal Sonic’s head, curved inward, and accelerated towards the inner-section of the course. He pushed Metal downwards and perfectly made the curve.

“My bad!”

Metal Sonic, who managed to regain his posture, raised his face, he saw Sonic running far ahead.

Metal Sonic tried to analyze the situation

[[Current status... "unfavorable"]]

☆ ★ ☆

Metal Sonic continued to analyze everything while giving chase. He had never won again Sonic ever since their first battle. He was built for the best performance and had a tireless, steel body. There were many factors of his creation that should have meant he was unbeatable.

But I can never win.

Why? Why... it’s just a hedgehog that runs fast...

Right at that moment,

A buzz of electricity rippled through the robot’s AI and it’s train of thought.

Is it because it’s not just “fast.”

 [[............!]]

Why was this robot made to resemble Sonic?

Perhaps, the creator, Dr. Eggman, created this body simply to not waste time creating it, but to also be a replacement to Sonic.

It was created for that specific purpose. There’s something that had to be done.

Metal cut all non-essential parts such as “fire control” and the “electromagnetic spark capacitors.” All systems were set on full power to “Speed.” Metal sharpened and gutted himself on the inside.

A moment later, a creature of blue steel, which had become the pure concept of a new “Metal Sonic” began to chase after Sonic the Hedgehog.

☆ ★ ☆

Meanwhile, Sonic had already taken notice that something had changed with Metal Sonic. The distance between them was gradually getting shorter.

Metal Sonic was purely a machine. There’s no way to know what it could even be thinking about. However, Sonic could sometimes tell. He could sense Metal Sonic’s joy, willpower, and unhealthy obsession towards victory.

“Looks like things are heating up!”

Sonic sped up even more, with a serious expression, muttered words of amazement while suppressing a grin that was continuously rising to his mouth.

“Heh, you don’t feel like you’re getting burned out?”

It was a straight line from the left-twisting, half-corkscrew to the goal. Below, you could see the surface of the city piercing upwards. The two blue streaks sped up the outside of a vertical skyscraper.

The goal was just around the corner. Sonic was in the lead.

Metal Sonic’s AI became fully aware at this point. It would not win at this rate.

How can it win!? Perhaps it could increase the output from the jet propulsion unit a little more, but where there even enough resources to do so...!?

☆ ★ ☆

"...?"

Just a few hundred meters from the goal.

Right then, Sonic couldn’t understand what happened.

Metal Sonic pulled out to Sonic at an impossibly fast speed! A dazzling seven-colored light erupted from Metal’s chest as a bright red flame with black smoke gushed out of the jet exhaust hole on his back. Parts and debris flew off of him in a violent roar.

“Metal...!?”

That’s right. Metal Sonic absorbed and utilized Chaos Energy! However, the power of the Chaos Emeralds was not stable and was very uncontrollable.

While speeding ahead, Metal lost his balance and collapsed.

Upon seeing this, Sonic tried to call out...

In a single moment, Metal was swallowed the the seven bright lights as they were then engulfed by smoke. Metal Sonic turned into a glowing red bulb.

The explosion sent an impact out that knocked Sonic back. As he looked up to the sky...

Against the backdrop of the night sky, Metal Sonic’s scattered body parts, which drew a trail of red flames alongside shimmering shards of window glass seemed to fly by in slow motion.

For a single moment, Sonic thought it was strangely beautiful.

Immediately after, Sonic got to his feet while being shocked at the explosion sounds that came soon after. When suddenly...

Metal Sonic’s upper body, which only had the torso, head, and right arm attached had crashed to the floor. As it made attempts to crawl towards the goal. The efforts proved too exhausting as he soon stopped dead in his tracks... just 10 meters away.

Shortly after, Sonic begrudgingly crossed the finish line; putting this little game to an end.

A Chaos Emerald flew towards Sonic. As he caught it, he looked back with a unique and serious expression. Metal Sonic had tossed the emerald with the last of his power.

[[......!!]]

Metal Sonic jumped to restrain Sonic as he approached with his fiery eyes.

Sonic felt as if Metal Sonic was saying that it’s impossible for two people to have crossed the finish line.

The damage that Metal Sonic had taken wasn’t as bad as Sonic had expected.

Sonic spoke in his usual tone, feeling uncomfortable with how relieved the situation felt.

“It was a good race.”

As Sonic let out his remarks, he never turned back and said,

“I’ll be waiting for a rematch.”

☆ ★ ☆

The defeated Metal Sonic was analyzing the current situation.

This time, it was an utter defeat.

Metal tried to re-calibrate all of his resources, but still couldn’t win.

Metal Sonic tried to sharpen his strengths, but it was all too late. In the end, he lacked a way to channel his resources and self-destructed.

....However,

it should be noted that an unprecedented performance was achieved this time.

 Even with the final Chaos Emerald, considering that the race would have been lost regardless, it wasn’t necessarily a bad move... but a more detailed analysis is to be postponed.

A rescue signal was already issued. Aid was available and recovery could be achieved at Eggman’s base. If Metal connected to the base’s main computer and analyzed today’s data, he can definitely win next time. There is room to not only improve speed, but also inhibitory behaviors and attack patterns.

I can still reach a tier of being and there will others who can surpass or fall victim to that tier!

At the moment, Metal Sonic was forced into a deep sleep mode due to a drop in his voltage energy. His ability to think dropped rapidly and Metal Sonic obtained an analysis result that was unbiased and unemotional.

 [[Status is... “favorable."]] 

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.  

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.  

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.  

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.  

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.  

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.  

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers. 

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.  

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.  

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.  

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.  

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.  

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.  

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.  

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.  

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.  

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.  

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.  

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.  

He froze.  

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.  

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.  

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.  

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.  

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.  

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly. 

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”  

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.  

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.  

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.  

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.  

It was bullshit.  

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.  

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.  

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.  

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.  

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.  

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.  

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.  

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.  

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.  

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.  

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.  

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.  

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.  

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.  

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.  

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.  

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.  

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.  

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.  

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.  

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.  

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.  

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”  

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”  

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.  

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.  

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.  

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.  

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.  

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.  

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.  

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.  

He didn’t care for that one bit.

[scnsuality]

Tommy swallowed hard, a hint of fear sneaking into his eyes when he could hear the disappointment in Daimon's tone. If there was any chance he had forgotten just how dangerous and ruthless the other man was, he was reminded of it this very moment. As much as he had been protected by Daimon, cared for and adored in a way that probably nobody else had ever experienced with the criminal, Tommy was very much aware that there was another side to the Demon, one he was as scared of eliciting in the other as he had been back then. Hearing Daimon talk about the things he knew about Tommy's fiancé, the ease with which he could just eliminate the problem... Tommy knew that he meant it. There was no remorse to be found in Daimon, he was truly ruthles, and had always been particularly determined to do just about anything to claim and defend what was his - Tommy. "You don't need to hurt him", the blonde pleaded quietly; it was a plea, sure, but more importantly it also was a promise. Tommy knew there was no refusing Daimon, not just for the sake of all the people in his new life, but also for some part of him craving to turn back time, yearning to be treasured in this absolute, ultimate, somewhat fucked up way that only one man had ever and would ever make him feel. Daimon still owned him, probably had all this time, even if Tommy had attempted to deny it to himself.

He didn't expect the other to confess that he'd attempted to replace him, and even less so did he expect how much it would sting to hear. Of course Tommy had no right to expect anything from the other; not only had he walked through the prison gates five years ago and never looked back, but it also wasn't like Daimon had ever made any promises, and Tommy certainly wasn't in a place to ask for a commitment from his... lover? Regardless of the power imbalance in their dynamic, that's what he had seen the other man as. A lover who could have easily made half the inmates his bitches and yet, if he ever did, Tommy had not witnessed it. Owning him, controlling him in every way and fucking him like a man possessed once the lights went out each night had been clearly enough to keep the prince of hell calm. Tommy had been his babydoll, second to none, and hearing that there had been attempts to replace him was as painful as ultimately unsurprising. And yet, it made him feel incredibly pleased to hear that none of those attempts had been fruitful. Hearing Daimon talk about all the ways they had been intimate back behind bars had Tommy smile widely, a smile he simply couldn't hold back as he slipped right back into the comfort of how it felt to be claimed and cared for by the strongest, most powerful, yet also most dangerous man in his world.

"I remember, Daddy", he whispered, nodding softly as he closed his eyes for a moment to revel in the memories. Yes, fear had played a big part in the beginning. At first, he'd seek out as much physical contact as possible in an attempt to preempt Daimon doing so by force; he'd find it less painful to start riding his cellmate's length after waking up instead of waiting for him to gain consciousness and ram his morning wood inside him without mercy. But that fear, that coercion had long since stopped being the main reason why he did all these things for Daimon, why he seeked his affection. Was it training, brainwashing, or genuine kinship and a twisted love? Who knew - most likely it was all of those things, mixed into a passionate and explosive dynamic that Daimon was obviously here to reprise as if not a day had passed.

"I... I don't think so", Tommy shrugged it off as the other claimed he'd grown more beautiful, miserably failing not to show how much those words had him swooning. Feeling Daimon's crotch under his fingers had him weak in the knees; not that he needed any reminder of just how impressive his lover's cock was - he remembered each time he lied to his lover in bed when the other got lost in the heat of the moment and asked Tommy if his was the biggest fucking dick he'd taken. It was decent, big even, but it didn't compare to Daimon. Nobody compared to Daimon in any way. And the moment their lips met in a kiss, Tommy knew he was lost. Or rather, he had been lost and was now reclaimed, completely devoted to his lover. Pure instinct taking over, he arched his back and pushed his ass back against Daimon's firm grip, looking into the other's eyes for a moment before he nodded, reluctantly pulling away just enough to lead the way to the bedroom. He didn't need to say a word, it was obvious from the reluctance in his gaze fading and making way for an all too familiar need - he was Daimon's, completely, his body and soul in the other man's hands.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you're talking to but I know it ain't me, Princess," one of the most dangerous men in the city (possibly the country) sighed, his voice slow and clearly disappointed as he scratched his brow with the nail of his thumb. He took a long, deep inhale of his smoke again, blowing the tainted air back out, the dark cloud circling his head for a second before dissipating. He said nothing when the other raised his hand and showed him the ring, though the sight of it absolutely disgusted him and that much he couldn't hide from his face. "You think I don't know about your little boy toy?" he asked like the other was being stupid, which, to Daimon, he was, "I know all about that little faggot you picked up. I also know where he works - hell, I even know where his mama lives," he grinned a wicked toothy grin, "If you're worried about him tying you down, say the word and we can get rid of the problem," he said matter-of-factly, taking a quick pass of his cigarette, "Listen, Princess, I understand you needed something to keep you warm while you were waitin' on me, but that's over now," he said as though it were obvious, "I mean, I don't fuckin' like it- don't get me wrong, if I see that shrimp dick sonovabitch I'll put a bullet between his eyes- ... but I can understand why you did what you did. You needed to survive out here," he scuffed his boot against the perfectly clean floor, "But Daddy's back and you don't gotta worry 'bout none of that anymore."

He sighed, "You know, I tried replacing you too," he admitted, "Tried it in there and hell even tried it out here once or twice the first day or two," he chewed his bottom lip, "But nobody's like you, babydoll," he said the most affectionate name he had for the other slowly, drawing it out more than he meaned to as he sighed. "Nobody tastes like you ... nobody feels like you ..." he shook his head with a groan, tossing the cigarette into the fireplace, walking slowly back over to Tommy, "Nobody ... nobody does the things you do," he said, a tinge of sadness to his voice, "Like- like how you used to press that sweet ass of yours against me if I was even an inch away from you when you were asleep," he remembered, "How you'd fix my food up real nice and ready for me," he smiled, now within reach of the other and reaching out to pull him closer, "How you'd give me that ... sweet ... sinful look and start pawin' at me when you wanted me to fuck your goddamn brains out," he murmured, moving Tommy's hand to his crotch, not fully erect but hard enough in it's impressive size to feel clearly through the jeans.

"Don't you remember how you used to wake me up, either sucking me off or ridin' me all real nice and slow? Like you were something outta a porno," he asked softly, a hand moving up to cup the side of the other's face. While it was true that he had trained and forced Tommy into doing that in the beginning and it was possible the other did it when he woke up first or didn't want to be woken himself by Damian forcing himself onto him and doing those things anyway. But, it had been five long years since he'd laid eyes on the other and Tommy hadn't changed a bit, if anything, seeing the other in all his glory only made Damian want him more. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, did you somehow get more beautiful out here," he breathed softly, his hand snaking up into the other's hair and without waiting for warning or permission he leaned in and kissed Tommy and the other's taste and smell made every emotion and every memory all come flowing back to him.

The kiss was slow, it was the kiss of two lovers reuniting; passionate and heated but slow and familiar. "Now," he said, finally breaking the kiss slowly, "I'll not say it again, baby- go pack your shit and let's go," he said, running his hands through the other's hair. He then paused as it seemed an idea occurred to him, "Actually- you know what, since your little fling doesn't get off work for like another hour—" he hummed, taking the other's face in one hand while the other reached down and grabbed him firmly by the ass, "Show me your little bedroom- I'm gonna fuck you on this limp prick's bed before we leave it behind. Feels only right that I claim my Princess again just like I did the very first time."

[shotokimchi]

Décapante

Pairing: Bakugo x F!Reader

Summary: After getting dragged to one of the most popular strip clubs in the town by his friends, a unique performer catches the ash blonde's attention. What about his feelings though?

Warnings: Aged up characters Bakugo's in his early 20s, Smuttish (READER IS A STRIPPER WHAT DID U EXPECT hUh?)

credits to the GIF's owner / feedback and reblogs appreciated cuz I'm insecure about my writing shalala~

You can listen to these when reading:

Doja Cat - Streets (Silhouette Remix)

Confident - Justin Bieber (feat. Chance The Rapper) (slowed + lyrics)

The warm night breeze that smelled like smoke filled Bakugo's lungs, he was having a difficult time because of his hero duties. He wasn't complaining he still had a long way to go but sleepless nights filled with paperwork wasn't really fun, so one of his friends (Mina) suggested to go out as a group and have some fun, his attempt to decline the offer was blocked by the social butterfly of the group 'Eijiro' so thats why he was in a white shirt and black ripped jeans right now, waiting in the line with his friends to get into the club.

"Ahhh yes, finally we're gonna have some fun as a group!" Mina chimed while bouncing on her high heels while Denki eyed some pretty girls drooling like a puppy. Eijiro confirmed her statement with a nod, Sero turned towards the blonde and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "It's been a while since this asocial individual accepted to hang out with us." Bakugo sneered at his friend's words and freed himself from Sero's arm. "That's how you achieve things tape arms, by working really hard." Denki rolled his eyes and the bouncer's strong voice caught their attention. "You guys have a reservation?" Bakugo raised a brow "The hell, is this a fancy restaurant or what?" Before the bouncer could say something Mina interrupted "Ah yes we do actually! It should be under the name of Ashido." The bouncer hummed while checking the list and show a small smile "Mrs.Ashido and her friends, you may pass." She quickly linked her arm with Kirishima's and called out to the other three "Come on guys!" Mina led them upstairs and all of them looked at her confused "You look like you know this place Mina." Denki said and she winked "Actually my friend is a performer here and we sometimes come here to watch the male strippers with the girls." Kirishima choked on air and Denki's loud 'Haaaaah?!" echoed through the walls of the club. "Girls?! As in Momo, Uraraka and the others right?" Sero asked and Mina nodded, Bakugo listened to their conversation with a neutral expression. "Ooohh~ I've never thought that the girls would be this naughty." Denki smirked and Kirishima sighed "They're adults y'know?" They sat down at a large table, the dark stage was visible from the balcony, the view was good, a waitress came to take their orders and Mina made quick conversation with her "Is Y/n gonna be performing tonight?" The waitress smiled and nodded. Mina rubbed her hands together with a mischievous look on her face then she turned to face Bakugo "Get ready bestie because you're gonna have the time of your life!" Only to be met with a signature scowl but she waved it off "She'll wipe that scowl on your face~" Just then the dark stage lit up with dim lights and a charming woman silhouette appeared, grabbing the pole with her experienced fingers she twisted and bent her body just the way everybody liked. "Yeeeeess that's my girl!" Mina cheered loudly and sipped her drink "Wow" Denki whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Kirishima tried to seem unfazed but failed miserably when Y/n started to spin with the help of the pole and let out a breathy gasp. Bakugo's hand gripped his drink with a little bit of force than before, he wasn't affected much compared to his friends but the way she moved was smooth and addicting to watch. People down there started throwing cash towards the beautiful woman, Mina's golden eyes looked at her blonde friend, eyes sharp and concentration gathered towards the performer, he was watching her perform without missing a single move of hers. Then the performer slowly raised her head and for a second the blond thought they made eye contact, he leaned forwards placing his elbows on his knees and intertwining his fingers together.

The performer grabbed the pole and turned towards the audience while using her curves to attract many looks from the crowd, then she kneeled and arched her back while crawling like a tiger ready to hunt her prey. Getting on her elbows and raising her body to the air, she spread her legs and earned some whistles and more cash; performing wasn't just about spinning around the pole and climbing on it, it was using the body to the fullest. Her charm was the way she presented her body to her audience that's why people usually crowded her side of the club. While her performer friends played with the poles for their main performances, she used the pole as an opening and used her body for the main show.

Bakugo was enjoying the show, to say the least but he wasn't gonna make it obvious to his friends. He waited for the performer to raise her head and lock eyes with him again, then the music started to slow down and the dim lights get brighter, she raised her head and now her face was visible to the whole crowd. Her make-up was professionally done, eyes shiny and lashes dark painted with mascara, peachy lips waiting to be claimed. She blew a kiss and got off the stage walking seductively then the employees got on the stage to collect the cash.

"Hey Mina, did you enjoy the show?" The pink girl's face lit up when she heard the familiar voice of her friend. "To say that I was enjoying it is an understatement, you were amazing as always Y/n!" Y/n gave her a smile and eyed the table, observing the guys head to toe but her eyes rested on the blonde's figure longer compared to the others. "We want a private show!" Denki raised his glass, his tipsy behavior showing itself. Y/n nodded and motioned Mina to open some space for her then she took a seat and ordered a glass of alcohol "Aren't you gonna introduce your friends to me Mina?" Y/n faked a pout and Mina linked her arm with hers "Of course baby!"

Y/n POV

"This is Bakugo, he's a work addict but we managed to drag him here tonight." Bakugo clicked his tongue and continued to sip his drink, your eyes followed his plump lips, glistening with lip balm. "Oh, really?" You raised a brow teasingly and waited for him to say something, he was the quietest one out of these four but his eyes were wandering on you for quite a long time. "I don't know why he's like this Mrs.Y/n he's usually either screaming or blowing up things." Denki said while doing fake explosion effects with his hands. You nodded "I saw him on TV he is quite popular nowadays, saving people and fighting villains that's impressive Bakugo." He smirked and rolled his eyes "These dumb fuckers think success comes while having fun." You supported his statement with your own words "I'm not a hero like you but being a stripper contains long hours of workout and practice, that's why I'm well known today." Mina rubbed her cheek on yours "Y/n is a really popular performer she even performed for some governors and celebrities!" you escaped from her hold and smiled "Ah you're flattering me too much, aren't you guys celebrities too I'm lucky to be performing for you guys." Kirishima wiped his invisible tears "Damn that was smooth and kind at the same time." You smiled at him and turned towards Bakugo giving him a playful look, you got up and walked towards his side of the table, motioning him to scoot over. "For a person who liked my performance, you are pretty silent." His ruby eyes met with yours and he smirked "It was okay." Your brow twitched and you cleared your throat getting Mina's attention then motioning Bakugo with your eyes, luckily she got the message and start insisting the others to get up and dance. Poor guys, in the end they followed her into the crowd and you were alone with Bakugo, grabbing his drink from his hand and putting it on the table "He-" Before he could say something you straddled his lap. "It was just okay?" You grabbed his chin and pushed yourself up with your knees, his eyes got blurry and he looked at you silently. "What?" You giggled, he was distracted by your closeness "My performance, was it really just 'okay'?" Then you grabbed his hands and guided them to your waist. A growl was heard from his throat and a smirk appeared on his lips "It was alright." If there's something you like, it was praise and when people teased you about your profession you either got ambitious or frustrated. "Oh really? Then..." You stopped your movements and comfortably sat on his lap, he let out a sound of protest and grabbed your thighs trying to make you grind yourself on him again. Your hands clutched his wrists "Stop." You got off his lap and his eyes slightly widened, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer, whispering in his ear "If you think that I'm gonna fuck you here, you are so wrong." A competitive look clouded his face "Who's fucking who?" You nibbled at his ear and he tensed, the heat of his skin was hard to ignore. "You either wait for me to finish my work or leave this club." His eyes narrowed and a dangerous look appeared on his handsome features, "Not going anywhere, no running away got it?" You nodded then bit his bottom lip with your teeth and murmured "See ya later." Just then his friends appeared in front of him and Denki pointed at his face "Dude you have some lipstick on your face." He panicked and aggressively tried to wipe it off, Mina giggled and looked behind her seeing you walking down the stairs while a smile appeared on her pink lips.

People left one by one some of them were drunk and some of them were sober but it didn't matter for Bakugo, the more of them left the more his smile grew. Mina looked at his friends and saw Denki snoring while resting his head on the table, Sero was having his nth shot and Kirishima was punching the wall completely drunk, he turned towards the blonde and smiled "I'm taking these messes home, night Bakugo." He acknowledged her with a nod and continued to sip the sparkled water in order to stay awake. His friends left then he waited some more, he tossed his head back and let out a bored sigh "Wow, I didn't think you'd wait." His eyes shot open and looked at her form, she was wearing dark leather jeans with a black crop top. Grabbing his hands enthusiastically she dragged him out of the club, then started to walk at the streets while holding one of his hands surprisingly Bakugo was too occupied by eyeing her form to shake her hand off. She turned her head and their eyes met, she smiled and he just looked at her with a haze in his eyes.

"This is yours?" He looked at the decent looking black car, you nodded and got in he quickly followed and they both fastened their seatbelts. He continued the examine the car and you giggled "If you work hard this job pays very well." He hummed and stared at the road, 20 minutes ago he was trembling with heat and lust but now he just wanted to know about her, since they were going to her house. Bakugo wasn't really into one-night stands he liked a serious relationship but since he didn't want a relationship and had his needs this was gonna be one of those fuck and leave kind of nights. "When did you start performing?" He asked genuinely, you turned towards the ash-blonde and saw him looking outside the window "You don't need to hesitate Bakugo, actually i studied engineering." He choked on air and looked at the woman, why didn't you get a stable job and decided to get into the nightlife? Bakugo didn't have any experience when it came to engineering but he knew that you needed high scores to study it. "So you were a nerd?" He asked and you let out a genuine laugh "You can say that." You looked at his features they were more relaxed compared to the second he got into the car. "After graduating from the university I got bored and dancing was one of the things that I liked the most, I liked the attention the way my body moved it felt amazing." He hummed while listening paying attention to your words "I am pretty curious about your job too but since you wanted to get away from it by going out tonight we should save this work talk for later." He raised a brow and gave a surprised look, the fact that you were being thoughtful left a good impression on him.

The car stopped in front of three huge buildings "Come on, or I'm leaving you here." you joked and he clicked his tongue "I didn't wait at the club for 30 minutes just for you to leave me here." You led him to your apartment and his eyes sparkled with curiosity this was a foreign territory. "Want anything to drink?" He shook his head and made a move to sit on the couch but your arms around his waist alerted him "You waited pretty long right? He let you lead him towards your bedroom, it was pretty big for a single person the bed was huge. "Don't worry I don't bring my clients here, it's my personal room." You touched his belt and started to undo it "Should i feel special then?" He asked with his husky voice "Well, if you wanna think that way." He huffed and you giggled. You pushed him onto the bed and got on top just like you did at the club "You know what, you should feel special because you're gonna get a private show for free." A mischievous grin appeared on the man's face and he grabbed your thighs, you placed your hands on his "My clients cant touch me but since you're special..." You tore his shirt off and attached your lips to his collarbone while your hands massaged his nipples, which earned you sighs filled with pleasure from him "Get ready Bakugo because we're gonna have a long night." Just when you were about to attack his neck his hand slightly pushed your tummy "Katsuki." He corrected you and you nodded with a small smile.

After your steamy night with Bakugo, he become a regular and joined his friends' nightly outings, he even bought VIP tickets and paid for your private shows. There were many strippers in the club but his eyes were on you and only you, when you finished performing you would pay their table a visit and he wouldn't let you leave, pulling you closer to him or ordering drink after drink your boss was complainant about it but he couldn't do anything because he was a pro hero and he was paying well, you weren't complaining talking with him was actually relaxing because even though he looked cold or harsh he was a good listener and he cared about the things you told him. Sometimes he came alone because of his loud friends and when they came as a group Mina would always eye you both from the other end of the table and shot you a wink. Bakugo was different from your other clients, he wasn't hiding his feelings, if he didn't like it or loved it he was always open about it but lately, you knew something was different. The way he looked at you, the way he joked around and flirted more openly there was a single answer explaining the change in his demeanor... He got a crush on you. You weren't sad or uncomfortable it was the opposite but dating a stripper wasn't a thing to be honored about if you accepted his feelings that meant spending the night cuddling together or laying in the same bed and you couldn't give him that. You didn't want him to sleep in the cold bed alone, waiting for you to come home, or you didn't wanted to dance on someone else's lap while you actually belonged to him, that's why you refused to acknowledge his feelings and continued to act like a dense and horny stripper.

It was a regular night, Bakugo took his usual seat and waited for you to appear on the stage. Lately, you were on his mind a lot and even though he knew the reason acting like it wasn't there was the best option, he was busy with work and had goals and by the looks of it you were just as busy as him. Plus, what would you tell him, would you even look at him, would you accept his feelings or shame him cuz he likes a stripper? He didn't know, he wasn't a coward when it came to villains or disasters but when it came to his feelings yes, he was a coward. His thought got interrupted by the click of high heels, he raised his head and saw the person he was itching to see, you. "I thought you were performing tonight?" He asked with a neutral expression and just when he was about to scoot over you grabbed his shoulders and plopped yourself on his lap "I came to see my favorite client." Then started to leave butterfly kisses on his face, he sighed with content; this wasn't lust, it was filled with care and longing. It felt like he came home after a long day filled with work to be welcomed by you and your warmth, he opened his eyes and saw you admiring his features with a small smile on your lips, it was now or never, he didn't care about your answer he didn't want to have any 'what if's or regrets in the future so his ruby eyes found yours and... "Y/n, got a minute to talk?"

A/N: ARRGHHH I'M SORRY THIS IS LIKE- RLLY BAD I HAVEN'T EVEN EDITED IT JUST STR8 UP POSTED IT SO IM SRRY IF I HAVE MISTAKES I'LL FIX THEM LATER. Anyways uuuh reblogs and feedbacks r appreciated teehe<3

[theright-sideofme]

Mate. C. San. [Part 2}

Werewolf!San x fem!reader WC: 1.9k Warnings: implied mentions of abuse. let me know if I missed anything.

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“So what are we gonna do with her?” Yunho asked as he looked over at you, who sat patiently in the living room, curiously looking around at the electric room. “We can’t just send her back home, she ran away” San was quick to point out. Hongjoong let out a stressed sigh, looking over you while in deep thought.

San was nervous as he watched his alpha wage a mental war on what to do. Of course he wanted you to stay, you were his mate and having you around would be heaven for him, but he didn’t want you to stay just for his selfish reasons. He was worried about what would happen to you if you were to go back. In the months he would watch you from afar, one of the first things he picked up on was your fathers explosive temper and he would be damned if he sent you back knowing what was waiting for you.

“Your mate, your choice” Hongjoong finally said, looking at San and San only. It had caught him and everyone else off guard, not expecting an answer like that from their alpha. “If you want her to stay then she stays, but she’s your responsibility.” “I’m not a dog” you said in a hushed voice with a pout. The pack quickly turned to you, a sudden realization that you could hear them blatantly talking about you washing over them.

“I didn’t mean it like that” Hongjoong said with an apologetic smile, “I just need San to know he’s responsible for taking care of you while your here- wait that still sounds bad- I-” Hongjoong was cut off by the sound of your angelic laughter. San could feel his heart swell at the beautiful sound, watching as your eyes crinkled with laughter, a beautiful smile taking over your face. After you stopped laughing, you looked at San, a bright smile still on your face as you spoke, “I’m not asking for you to take me in, that’s too much of me to ask of you. I will just go down to the village, and-” “No!” San blurted out, “I mean, it’s not too much, we’d love to have you stay, right boys?” The rest of the pack was quick to nod with reassuring smiles. They knew how much this meant to San, despite not knowing what it was like to have a mate yet, they knew having you close was important to him.

San took a step forward, a small smile on his face as he took your hand. The small action had your heart fluttering and your head swirling. What was with this guy? “Stay, please.” It was a soft spoken request, one of genuine meaning, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to say no.

That was two weeks ago. You had spent two week living with the pack and you had enjoyed every second of it. The boys were very welcoming, San the most so, and they made you feel right at home, more than you had ever felt when you were living with your family. It was a bit odd living with werewolves at first, only knowing what you had been told from ghost stories, and you were quick to learn that everything you did know was false. They boys were very patient with you, answering any questions you had and explaining anything you didn’t understand. One thing that was never brought up though was mates. San knew he should tell you, and the sooner the better. He was just worried about how you would take it, worried about if you would accept the bond or not.

“Hey San” you spoke cheerily as you skipped into the kitchen. “Hey Y/n- whoa, what happened to you” he asked. You were covered head to toe in dirt, your hair practically fit to be a bird's nest, and a small cut on your cheek. San was in front of you in a second, hand on your arms as his eyes scanned you up and down for any more cuts or possible injuries.

“I’m fine” you dismissed, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at how caring he was towards you, swatting him away with a light laugh but it did nothing to ease his worry. “No you're not- hey! Get back here! You need to clean up that cut or it’ll get infected!”

He followed you as you went over to the pantry to look for a good snack, after all the roughhousing you did with the boys, you were whipped. They had asked for a simple race at first, effectively pulling you away from your book. One race turned into three and after the third you insisted they were cheating, using their werewolf powers and what not. Well apparently Wooyoung doesn’t take kindly to being called a cheater, (softly) tackling you to the ground which quickly turned into a group wrestling match, hence your current state.

Before you knew what was happening, you were being pulled away from the pantry, being tossed over San’s shoulder like a rag doll as he carried you out of the kitchen. “Hey-” “go clean yourself up and I’ll make you soup.” You paused your struggle for a moment, soup did sound good. “...What kind of soup” “chicken noodle” “deal.”

San gently placed you down in front of the bathroom door, leaving his hands lingering on you arms for a moment. He allowed himself to admire you in that moment, even in this disheveled state, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. His intense gaze was met back by your soft eyes staring up at him with absolute adoration. An eruption of butterflies bursting into your stomach as you grew shy under his gaze, something that has never happened to you before, ever.

Quickly advertising your gaze, you rushed into the bathroom as heat rushed to your cheeks. “I’m expecting the best soup Choi” you tried your best to play off your embarrassment. You shut the bathroom door before he got the chance to respond. He stood there dumbfounded with a goofy smile on his face as he realized, he just made you blush. A sense of pride ripped through his chest and an almost childlike giggle left his lips. “Of course Y/l/n” you could hear the smirk on his lip, which only made you groan in embarrassment. What was happening to you?

--

A few days later, you sat under a tree near the house with a book Yeosang had recommended to you. It was quite good, not something you would’ve picked up on your own but you certainly weren’t able to put it down. It was nice and peaceful under the tree, it was familiar yet so different to when you used to sit under your tree back home. Back then you were trying to escape the hectic world you lived in, now you were simply soaking in peace and enjoying life the way you were meant to. It was nice to have a truly relaxing moment, not feeling like you had to always look over your shoulder to make sure you were alone.

San stood, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you with a smile. It was nice for him to see you so relaxed, and his heart swelled knowing you felt so at peace at his home- well it was technically your home too now. Just another reason for San’s heart to fill with joy. God how he loved you, he just wished he could tell you… What was that?

San’s thoughts were cut off when a chorus of barking sounded through the forest. Hounds. His eyes widened at the realization, rushing to get you into the house. “San- what’s happening, is everything okay?” You asked as San carefully pulled you up, pulling you hastily into the house. San didn’t respond, too wrapped up in his own head to hear you right now. His only thought was keeping you safe.

“San'' You called out again, stopping as you two reached the living room, forcing San to stop too. That’s when he snapped out of it, turning to you with the best reassuring smile he could muster up, but you could tell something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” San let out a shaky breath, looking into your eyes just to calm himself down. “I heard hounds…” Hounds? Oh no. Your face soon morphed into one much similar to San’s when he had first heard the noise, eyes wide and fearful, mouth parting in shock. “O-okay, what do we do? '' You asked despite your fear, trying your hardest not to freak out, that was the last thing either of you needed right now. Before San could answer Yunho and Yeosang busted through the door, looking around frantically before their eyes landed on you. “You need to hide, the hounds-” “We know Sang. Did you ever fix the ladder to the attic? '' Yeosang nodded quickly, taking that as his cue to lead the both of you upstairs.

“Just up here” Yunho said as he pulled the hatch and stairs down, leading you forward. You looked back at San for a second and he felt himself wanting to pull you into his chest at that very moment. Your eyes full of fear, your shaky hands holding on to the ladder as you looked to him for comfort, for reassurance that everything would be okay. It hurt when the only thing he could do was give you a smile and nod. Strangely, you felt as though it wasn’t enough, wanting him to come with you and hold you until everything quieted back down. Despite that, you turned back around, crawling up into the attic with a terrible feeling in your chest.

“What do we do now?” Yunho asked after shutting the hatch to the attic, keeping his voice low so that you couldn’t hear. “We go warn the other, and be ready for when they get here” San said, his eyes not moving from the hatch where you just disappeared. “We- we won’t have to fight right?” “Hopefully not…”

--

After they had warned the others, Hongjoong was quick to come up with a plan in true alpha fashion. Everyone was to stay inside and just go about their business. If the hounds did end up at their place (which was highly likely) Hongjoong would talk to whoever was in charge and try his best to defuse the situation. Violence was the last resort, it always was and Hongjoong made sure everyone knew that.

San physically could not sit still while they waited. All he could think about was you up in the attic all alone. All he wanted was to be up there with you, but if something bad were to happen, he needed to be down here, with his pack.

The hounds were now right outside, many scratching at the door to get in. The room stank of anxiety and it was evident on everyone's face. San nearly jumped out of his skin when the distinct, loud knocks came from the door. “Don’t worry” was all Hongjoong said before nonchalantly opening the door.

“Sir Wang” Hongjoong greeted the fancily dressed guard almost as if greeting an old friend. “Hongjoong, it’s been awhile” “that it has. May I ask why you brought a barrage of hounds to my home? Did we do something wrong?” “Well you tell me. We’re looking for Lord Y/l/n’s daughter, Lady Y/n. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is, would you?”

taglist: @itsyaapollochild @sunsethw4

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright - Part Ten

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: omg this chapter is so sad!!!

Warnings: angst, language

MASTERLIST - SERIES MASTERLIST

PART TEN

You cried so much that you forgot what it felt like to not have your breath caught in your throat, or tears in your eyes, wetness on your cheeks. Even if you’d barely spent a week with Loki, when he left you there, without even trying to get to you, the bond inside of you screamed. It’s even worse than when you couldn’t see him, when Natasha and Bruce were trying to get you to stay away. Now that’d you’d had a taste, you just wanted more, and the bond that had been a knot in your belly now felt like burning fire.

Thor took you in his arms and brought you back to a jet, but both the wound on your head and the one in your heart kept you from having any conscience of it. You were crying so hard it hurt, your stomach clenching, breaths hiccupping out of your lungs, eyes swollen.  

The last thing you remembered before they put you under, pressing a mask to your face, was the wretched sobs coming from your throat.

Your dreams were nothing but black. It was like floating in space, with no stars, with no air, and the suffocation of the dream left you even more anguished than Loki’s departure.

Why hadn’t he tried? Why hadn’t he at least tried to take you with him, instead of looking at you with those eyes, his mouth parted?

You’d remember that look until the day you died.

Death was more peaceful than this.

When you woke up, Bruce was all over you, acting like the mommy you both never had. He was in your recovering room 24/7, bringing you everything you ever wanted. And when they moved you out of the recovery room and back at the Avenger’s compound, Bruce was still on your heels like a leech. 

Nat kept her eyes on you every time you passed by the door, as if you’d pounce right back out there if she dared to leave you alone.

Steve kept giving you speeches about good and evil, how Loki’s bond with you did not mean what he did was right. 

Tony dropped by once in a while, asking you questions on Loki, but all you knew was what you’d seen while at the loft, and revisiting those memories made you want to scratch your eyes out.

When you stopped talking, just shut down, they brought in a therapist. But even she couldn’t make you talk. All that anger was the only thing that made you remember him. And the bond desperately wanted you to remember him. Every single moment spent away from Loki, the bond called to him. It gave you stupid ideas to reach out somehow, to runaway, to seek out a way to get back to him. 

But you couldn’t leave. Ever. The Avenger’s compound was on lock down, and you could not be left alone in it, ever. It was your own personalized prison. 

You wished so desperately, but so quietly, that Loki would come for you. That he’d bring an army and get you back. 

But the news you overhead - because they didn’t allow you to know anything about Loki’s whereabouts - suggested Loki couldn’t give more of a fuck about you. He’d terrorized more people across the Earth, all intent on “taking over the world” or whatever. 

“He’s got Selvig,” you heard Thor telling Nat. You were lying on the couch and they didn’t know you were there as they prepared lunch. “He’s going to open a portal and bring the Chitauri army here.”

“If he does that,” Nat said with a hiss, “then it’s going to get far worse than it already is.”

You knew what she meant by that. The Avengers already had to take care of you - Loki’s soulmate - and adding an alien war to the pile was not going to facilitate their game.

And if Loki wasn’t coming for you, you wouldn’t make any effort to get back to him. 

*** Eighteen days later, Three hours before the attack on New York ***

You didn’t like the movie. Nat had chosen it as the boys had taken over the gym to have “a boys workout” as they called it. 

Nat had been careful in avoiding any romance movies, and had picked an action packed, hot boy movie with no story line and a lot of explosions. The main character was good-looking enough to distract you from the actual plot, and the fact that you did not have a phone - actually, not allowed - made you even more concentrated on the character. 

It wasn’t long before the boys came back out, smelling like sweat and rubber. Lately, they’d all been hitting the gym often since Loki’s army was waiting to invade. Tony insisted on a seven-day a week training until they’d either caught Loki or killed him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat at the image of a dead Loki in your head. Thor’s presence didn’t really help either. He kept mentioning his brother as if you weren’t even there. 

“You okay?” Bruce asked, tapping your knee as he took a seat beside you.

You wrinkled your nose. “Ew, Bruce, you smell so gross,” you whined, pinching your nose. 

He smiled, the perpetual look of caution on his face he wore only around you dropping and softening his features. 

“Come on,” he drawled, “it’s not that bad!”

But before you could answer, Tony’s cell rang. Everyone went deadly silent. You could feel the blood draining from your face as Tony brought the device up to his ear, his face severe.

Your fingers curled into fists. Your blood ran cold, colder than you’d ever felt as you watched Tony’s face tighten. 

The first thought to enter your mind was Loki’s wellbeing. 

Please tell me he’s fine.

Tony hummed and hung up. “Suit up,” he said, his tone deadly, “Loki’s opened up the portal. They’re dropping armed Chitauri in the streets.”

The entire living room activated, as if everyone around you had just been waiting for Tony to give the heads up. Nat launched off the couch, running upstairs to get her suit, followed my Steve and Clint - which yes, they’d manage to save between all this time.

Tony turned into the kitchen, mumbling to JARVIS.

Only Thor and your brother remained in the living room, hard like statues, their eyes emotionless.

“Who’s gonna babysit, huh?” you mumbled, but your words felt like ash on your tongue. 

“I wager I should stay,” the God of Thunder said, pointing to you. “After all, my brother will attempt to get her out of here before he obliterates the planet.”

The soulmate bond would not let him leave you here to die.

Bruce shook his head, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “She’s my sister,” he said. “And you’re more needed than me on the battlefield.”

You frowned, anger and heat crawling up your chest like sour vines. “Bruce, if he gets here and you’re the one standing between him and me, he will go through you,” you argued, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I can take him,” Bruce shot back. “And Thor will man the streets with the rest of the team. No one is going to take this planet and no one is going to take my sister! And until Loki is either dead or locked up until the end of your days, I will never allow you out of my sight!”

Thor knew better than to stay. He vanished from the living room even before Bruce had uttered the last words, either because of the look on your face or the privacy you and your brother needed.

Bruce had stood, towering over you, his face stricken with a mix of anger and annoyance, and you looked up at him from under your brows, heaving, feeling betrayal course through your veins. 

“Bruce,” you muttered, trying to keep a lid on your anger. “I’m a grown woman. I don’t need my fucking brother looking after me forever.”

Bruce’s lip twitched. “That’s what you made us all think,” he seethed. “That’s what we thought. That we could trust you. And then you literally betrayed us and went to him with arms wide open.”

“He’s my soulmate, Bruce!”

“I don’t care!” At this point, your brother didn’t care that he was screaming and that Tony could hear him in the kitchen. “You’re a threat to yourself.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” you gritted from clenched teeth.

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up. “I told you the bond is different for men,” he said. “He doesn’t care about love or passion or whatever he made you think! It’s about possession, owning what is meant to be his! And with Loki, there is no possible way the bond could be -”

“You don’t know that!” Now it was your turn to stand, facing your brother like you’d done so many times as kids, but this time, it was for something a little more severe. “You say all that shit about the bond for men but you don’t even know yours! You stopped yourself from knowing her because of the shit you did to yourself!”

You regretted the words before they left your mouth, but anger had made you open up your lips and spill anything hateful that would deter your brother. And it did. It so fucking did. His face fell from that angered scrunch to something more tragic, tormented. 

Bruce had always counted on you to understand that the Hulk was not - absolutely not - Bruce. 

And there you’d been, accusing him of creating this monster he hated so much.

Bruce took a step back, his eyes falling to the ground. “If you leave this house, I will not hesitate to use force.” And then he plopped himself on the couch.

You looked up, seething, spotting Tony leaning against the door to the kitchen. He shrugged, jerking his head to the stairs, silently signaling that maybe you should retreat to your room.

Feeling like a child who hadn’t gotten what she wanted, you ran up to your room, crossing Steve in the hallway and not even bothering with wishing him luck. For all you cared at that moment, they could all burn.

You felt like your insides would fall out as you tumbled into your room, slamming and locking the door. You sat on the edge of the bed, holding a pillow to your belly, hoping the pressure would prevent your insides from spilling out.

What had you done? Why had you gone and said those things? The image of Bruce’s face falling, that look of utter bewilderment and betrayal passing across his features, haunted you. You rocked on the edge of your bed, feeling the tears brimming behind your eyes, an odd sort of pressure building in your head. 

You knew he was there before he even spoke. The air shifted, like a soft wind inside a glass jar, and the sound of fabric against fabric echoed in your otherwise dark room. 

“He’ll kill you,” you said, biting on the edge of the pillow to keep from sobbing.

“I am not really here,” he answered.

Relief and disappointment. They would not be able to hurt him if they caught him in here. He wouldn’t be able to actually touch you. 

“What do you want?” you uttered, still clutching the pillow, facing away from him.

“I can come and get you out of here,” he said, his voice calm, leveled.

You frowned. “You left me,” you whispered. “You fucking left me, Loki. You didn’t even try. And even if I wanted to go with you, my brother would rip you to pieces before you even set foot in here.”

You could sense Loki’s anger, rippling from him even in his illusion form. “You do not want to come with me?” His voice was rough, as if fighting to stay even. He was sad. 

You clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. “No.” Then you straightened. “No. Leave me alone. You’ve caused enough damage in under a month of being my soulmate. I don’t want to see you again. Now get the hell out of my room before my brother has me put in an actual cell.”

You never got an answer.

When you turned to see if he was still there, the air was empty, dark, silent, as if he’d never even been there to begin with.

DON’T WORRY! I KNOW WHERE THIS STORY IS GOING. I HAVE A PLAN ;)

tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki @holaamishamigos @palegoopbearlight @heyarely16 @pleaseexecuteme @athalahild @help-i-need-a-social-life @tapismyforte @coloursforyourportrait @celestialstarshadow @fukyouthink @lust-for-pan @thic-thor 

[csigirl3137]

Unexpected

Pairing: Hiccup Haddock x Viggo Grimborn

Word Count: 1465

Warnings: Battle, sword fight, smut, anal sex, anal fingering, orgasms, possessive Viggo, sex with the enemy,

Authors Note: I'm new to this ship, but hey I fricking love it.

Summary: A sword fight between Hiccup and Viggo takes them into the woods away from the main battle. The fight turns into something unexpected.

White hot pleasure races through Hiccup's veins, the large hand over his mouth muffling his cry as the cock inside him drags over his prostate, the man behind him shoving Hiccup back up against the rough bark in front of him with every thrust.

There's muffled clanging to the left, metal on metal, the sounds of multiple explosions off to the right. His riders were giving the hunters hell.

And what was he doing?

Well...

Hiccup is currently pinned against a tree trunk, leather pants around his knees, completely wrecked, dick rock hard and throbbing as a man he very much should not be letting fuck him but he's letting him anyways,  fucks Hiccup towards an orgasm he knows will probably exceed every single orgasm he's ever had at his own hands.

"You're going to have a very sore ride home my dear, and you'll most likely be walking funny for a couple days" Viggo's familiar deep, silky, accented voice is right by his ear, the pace at which he fucks in and out of Hiccup, increasing.

Hiccup whines softly, not wanting anyone to hear him. The hand Viggo had over his mouth is now possesively wrapped around Hiccup's throat.

The combination of the arm around his waist, the thick tree trunk in front of him, the cock in his ass, and the large hand around his throat; Hiccup is completely helpless at the hands of the hunter chief.

He couldn't escape Viggo if he wanted to.

"We shouldn't... gah... oh gods..." Hiccup's eyes roll back in his head as he tries to speak only to dissolve back into moans and whimpers as Viggo makes him see stars.

"We shouldn't what? Hmm?" Viggo waits for a response from the wrecked rider, making sure to adjust enough to sharply hit Hiccup's prostate with the next few thrusts, the boy turning to goo, moaning in response.

"Use your words dear boy." Viggo taunts in the riders ear, knowing very well Hiccup was barely able to think straight right now, let alone form words.

It takes a minute but finally Hiccup manages to speak.

"We shouldn't be doing this!" He gasps.

Viggo hums in response, his grip on Hiccup's throat tightening a little as he pulls the boy back more securely against him. He's fairly certain he already knows the response he'll recieve, especially as he slows his thrusts.

The young green eyed rider currently impaled on his cock whines in distress at the decrease of the speed of Viggo's thrusts.

"Oh gods no! Please don't stop, Viggo please don't stop." Hiccup gasps desperately.

Thats the first time the young Hooligan has said his name since Viggo finally managed to disarm and pin him to this tree,  his sword against Hiccup's throat.

And now here he was fucking the young rider.

Viggo smiles darkly and resumes the pace of his thrusts before Hiccup spoke.

"You feel even better than I'd imagined my dear." Viggo kisses the side of Hiccup's neck, the pleased sound the rider makes shooting straight to Viggo's already hard cock.

"Maybe I won't let you go when I'm done with you. You'd make a very, very pretty pet." Viggo nips at Hiccup's pulse point drawing a gasp from Hiccup. He starts to suck a mark there on the riders pulse point, not caring that Hiccup would have to lie about its origin to his friends.

Viggo wanted Hiccup wearing his marks.

He'd suspected that Hiccup would look pretty all marked up with Viggos marks, and as he watched the skin of Hiccup's neck start to turn purple under his ministrations, he discovered that he was right.

"Viggo..." Hiccup had started to struggle a little in Viggos grip, the last thing he'd said coming off more threatening than considering.

Viggo yanks the boy back against him, trapping Hiccup between his body and the tree as he increases the pace of his thrusts again, Hiccup clawing at the bark on the tree as he's fucked, whining softly, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to prevent any of the actual sounds he wanted to make from escaping.

"As much as I want to completely claim and own you," Viggo growls into Hiccup's ear, relishing in the shiver that rolled through the riders body at his words. "When you finally become mine, it'll will be even sweeter because you'll have decided that you want to be. Not because I forced you too. Remember that dear."

Hiccup isn't quite sure what Viggo was saying, only catching a bit here and there, but essentially getting the message that Viggo wasn't gonna keep him right now.

He yelps as the hand of the arm Viggo had around his waist closes around his cock and starts to stroke up and down Hiccup's shaft with the pace of Viggo's thrusts.

"As much as I'd like to draw this out darling, the battle seems to be ending and so our little tryst must do the same." Viggo's thrusts into his body over his prostate, his stokes of Hiccups cock and his silky voice push Hiccup over the edge.

The hand around his throat is flying back up to clamp tightly over Hiccups mouth as he tenses, and then screams, his orgasm crashing over him in a wave of white hot heat.

The young Berkian completely shatters in Vigho's grip, eyes rolling back  into his head, body spasming, scream escaping his lips, walls clamping down tightly on Viggo's cock.

Viggo cums with a growl, fucking Hiccup through both their orgasms. He takes perverse pleasure from knowing that not only will Hiccup be sore sitting in the saddle flying back to the edge and walking funny the next couple of days, the young man also has to make the long flight back to the edge full of Viggo's cum.

A feral, possessive, heathen instinct rears it's head in the back of Viggo's mind as he thinks about Hiccup stuffed full of his cum, all his riders around and completely unaware. It was an ultimate claim.

God he wants to drag Hiccup back to his ship and completely destroy him again in the privacy of Viggos quarters and his large bed.

He looked so pretty shattering for Viggo like that.

Viggo withdraws from Hiccups body cum leaking out as he does.

Hiccup groans and goes slack against the tree in front of him for support. His legs are visibly shaking.

Viggo tucks his cock back into his pants and then uses one of his large fingers to swipe up some of the leaking cum from around the edge of Hiccup's hole, the boy crying out as Viggo uses his finger to push it back inside.

"Until we meet again my dear." Viggo presses a kiss to Hiccup's neck and then he's gone.

Despite wanting to just pass out against the tree in front of him from pleasure and exhaustion, he can't let his friends find him like this so Hiccup quickly tucks himself back into his pants, wincing at the sticky feeling of the cum leaking from his ass.

The thought of having to fly back to the edge full of the dragon hunters cum, that invisible claim mark so blatantly on Hiccup now, even tho his friends wouldn't know, makes Hiccup's dick twitch.

"Oh gods." He sighs as he turns around, presses his back against the bark of the tree, and sinks to the ground, hands pressed against his eyes.

What had he done?

He debates going to find them but then decides that his riders can come find him.

He needs a minute to get collected.

And so that's how Toothless and the riders find him, sitting on the ground, back against the tree trunk, still panting, but looking considerably less "I just had sex" like.

"Hiccup are you alright!?" Astrid helps Hiccup to his feet.

"I'm okay, just tired. Viggo's quite a skilled swordsman." He reassures them.

"Where is Viggo?" Fishlegs asks. Hiccup shakes his head.

"I don't know. He disarmed me, slammed the butt of his sword into my stomach and then I woke up against this tree." It's a blatant lie but his friends seem to take the words in stride.

"We got the lense. Let's go home." Hiccup holds up the lense that he'd pilfered from Viggo's belt as Viggo fucked into him.

So maybe he'd had an ulterior motive. But he still very much enjoyed how he'd been fuxked by his adversary and wondered if it would happen again.

His friends cheer at the sight of the metal piece.

Hiccup doesn't have to have super hearing to hear the roar of anger that echoes through the hunter camp on the opposite side of the island as they take off into the night as Viggo discovers what Hiccup has done.

[kittydemon9000]

I’m sorry I’m not sure how much you want to talk about the Ninjago/MHA crossover but

I feel like Kai and Bakugou constantly being in the same room would be a bit of a hassle taking how they’re both confident hot heads

Especially with early Bakugou’s distaste for quirkless people

Oh yeah, these two definitely would have issues, and that’s even before the whole Quirkless Thing

The main problem stems from how Kai hates how Bakugo acts and Bakugo hates how Kai is basically proving everything he grew up with wrong: that you don’t need a flashy quirk, or any quirk at all, in order to succeed.

And there’s ofc the issue you also mention: they’re both hot heads and incredibly stubborn.

However, if the two were to fight I think Kai would come out on top for two reason. 1) trained martial artist, and 2) he’d be partially immune to Bakugo’s blasts. This is coming from my theory that EMs are partially immune to their element(I’ll probably make a post about this later), so in Kai’s case the heat from the explosions wouldn’t be an issue, he’d just need to worry about the force and noise.

This ofc would just piss off Bakugo further, and their fights can get pretty brutal because Bakugo won’t stop till he beats Kai and after a certain point Kai will stop pulling his punches and go all out.

and trust me I want to talk about this au so much more but I’m just struggling to find the time arjdbvjhdbf