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etfrin · 11 months ago

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ worries — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, creampie, cum eating, blowjob, orgasm control, overstimulation, loss of virginity (m.), handjob, mutual masterbation (each other) if you squint, riding, spit play, breath play, reader has fem! anatomy, mentions of blood & blood sucking (from a lip bite)| lmk if I forgot anything

☆　Pairing: afab/gn! soft dom(-ish)! Reader x sub(-ish)! virgin! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: uhm, you take Snows' virginity <3

☆　A/N: first time writing gn reader, please be respectful and tell me if anything's wrong, but don't be mean about it and i finally wrote reader spitting in Coryos' mouth and it should be a regular thing, look AT him ugh, a meal fr, wanna eat him, suck off all of his cu- i should stop...

Ps. The one who requested this to be gn, i hope you like this and i did it justice, if there's anything wrong (like accidentally refering to the reader as fem) then please let me knw :)

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“You've never done this before?” You questioned as you entered his room. All cold and dusty stone with a bed on the corner. The bed in which you plan to do unspeakable things with him.

“No, he said, “Will that be a-” You shake your head as you see his wide blue eyes waiting for rejection. He hated that he brought you here. He hated that you saw him. Him. Not Coriolanus Snow from the academy but Coryo who tries and tries but gets fucked over anyway.

After finding out that the District 12 girl was his, he wanted to protest, he was being set up to fail. You saw him for he is, his mind filled with worries, endless thoughts running around making him unable to breathe. He felt invalid and he needed you to do something about it.

And as you notice him among the crowd, seduce him with your eyes and whisper your desires to him. He brings you to the penthouse, trying to control the urge to apologize as you have to walk 12 cases of stairs.

You knew his secret like the dean did but you didn't do anything about it except for the meals and clothes sent to him anonymously during the coldest nights of Panem but he didn't know that.

You walked towards him, pinning him to the door of his room with a gentle thud. “You don't have to worry about anything, princess,” you whispered to him, your eyes filled with lust and your lips twisted in a teasing smile. You run your finger over his sharp jaw, taking joy when a soft gasp comes from him. His breathing is getting faster and the blood rushing from his cock and his head turning empty from your simple touch.

You were going to have some fun with this boy. You're going to make him yours. Make him forget and help him through everything as his now serrah. Even if it means rigging the games so he would win. It's your job to care for him now and you're a perfectionist.

The first task, let the wide-eyed man feel pleasure in someone's touch for the first time. You tsk in dissatisfaction as your fingers feel his bony chest. He needs to eat, he needs to be pampered. ‘I'll have to fix that’, you thought as you pressed your lips on his collarbone. He lets out a breath, his body heating up from the kisses you plant on his chest. Your tongue teasing his nipple causes him to whimper and you earn a broken moan when your teeth decide to nip the bud.

You suck his nipple, savoring the gasp he makes and how his fingers wove into your hair. “Please. Please more,” he groans and who are you to deny him? You couldn't say no to his pretty face even if you didn't want to. So you get down on your knees, pushing your face into his crotch and you swear you could smell the heady scent of his pre-cum soaking through his trousers. You moan, deciding to tease him as you use your teeth to pull down his zipper. You'll never know the will it took for Coriolanus not to cum right then and there.

You take down his trousers, the line of his hard cock clear in his boxes, a wet spot of his pre-cum formed where the tip is. You decided not to tease him words but with actions, your tongue licks the wetness, letting your saliva sweep into the fabric along with his salty pre. He groans above you, a thud echoing into this room as the back of his head hits the door.

You set his cock free from its confines, your mouth watering as you look at the pink tip forming a bead of pearly white pre-cum. The tip of your tongue catches it and the pleasure (or torture) of Coriolanus Snow begins.

You start simply, teasingly as your lips trail sloppy wet kisses all over his length. Your tongue traces along the pretty veins of his cock, your lips reaching his base and mouthing his cock causing him to let out a needy whine and a plea of more, more and more. You repeat the process until you catch his cockhead inside of the carven of your warm, wet mouth. Another broken groan leaves his mouth as he sees your lips stretch around his mushroom tip.

The fingers of his curled in your hair tightens and as a warning you make your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs causing him to his and immediately loosen his grip on you. An apology falls from his lips, his eyes glossing over as he feels his dick getting wet. Your mouth begins to suck his tip. Your tongue savors the bitterness of him as you swirl your tongue around his slit, lapping up as much as possible.

Meanwhile, Snow was biting his lower lip as hard as possible, the blood pooling in his mouth as he tried to keep much of his sound quiet for the sake of others who might be home. His mind was blank, all he could think was how pretty you looked on your knees like this, how you took control despite the one kneeling. You didn't even take all of him, sucking his cockhead diligently but the rest of his cock was left out. He was glad that did so because he knew he couldn't take the hot, wet mouth of yours all over his cock without cumming on the spot.

He could feel himself venture too close to spilling inside of your mouth, he let his free hand venture down to the path and he gripped the base of his cock trying to ruin his upending orgasm.

You take your mouth off him, making him let out a desperate whimper as he feels his dick out of your warm carven. You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling utterly amused by how adorable he is. You kiss his tip. “Trying to last longer, baby?” You questioned with a teasing tilt in your voice.

“I don't want to” Snow can't admit the fact he doesn't want to cum so soon, it's embarrassing so he says it in different terms, “I want this to last.” His eyes were now fully blown with lust, his curls clinging to his forehead and his cheeks painted red with pleasure.

“Hmm,” you hum, standing up trying to ignore the slight ache of your knees. You take his hand, guiding the boy to bed before pushing him on the mattress. You straddle him, his shirt was long forgotten on the floor along with the rest of his clothes. It was your turn now and you quickly did the same. Coryo lets out a needy soft noise as your skin is exposed to his eyes, his fingers skimming along the curves of your body. “Can I?” He asked, his eyes begging for your agreement.

“Yes, Coryo. You can,” you permit him and you nearly let out a wanton moan as the heat of his fingertips sweeps into your skin, warming you up as his hands experimentally begin to knead your breasts. His fingers squeeze your nipples making you softly moan near his ear. “That's it, baby. Make me feel good.” You whispered to him, “A bit rougher- ah- ah- there you go. That's a good boy.”

His hips jolt forward when you praise him and a whine escapes from the back of his throat. “Please,” he lets out, “Let me feel you. I will be good, I promise.” You gaze wonders at his angry red tip and you decide not to play with him any further for the moment. You kiss his forehead for a moment of vulnerability in all of this tension. “Okay, my prince,” you whispered as you kissed his lips next, letting your tongues meet in a rather filthy and sloppy kiss as you let him guide you to your back on the mattress.

His hand traces down and gets a hold of your hips, his fingers squeezing the flesh a tad too hard but it felt so good and the fact he would leave marks didn't bother you. Your fingers wove into his blonde strands, bringing him down to catch his lips in an open mouth kiss. As your other hand is on his shoulder, his body pressed onto yours and you moan into his mouth as you feel his comforting weight on top of you. His dick twitched against your thigh, leaking pre-cum onto your skin.

You take in his bleeding bottom lip in your mouth and suck on it, enjoying the tang of the metallic taste on his tongue as he clumsily begins to press his cockhead into your soaking cunt. You were so focused on Coriolanus that you had forgotten about your aching cunt begging to be stretched with his cock.

If it hadn't felt so good when his cock slid right in because of how wet you were, you would have been embarrassed. You bite into his lower lip, trying to adjust to the burn of being stretched by his thick cock. If you weren't so impatient, you would have taught Coryo how to prep you first but that's for another day.

Coryo feels your teeth sinking into his bottom lip and a wanton, surprised moan leaves his mouth, his balls emptying and thick spurts of his cum flood into your pussy. You cry out as you feel his cock cumming against your pulsating walls. He buried his head onto your shoulder as he gasped his apology. As much as frustration filled your mind, you knew that you had to be gentle with your plaything.

You run your fingers through his hair, comforting him. “It's fine,” you whispered, your lips placing soft kisses on his shoulder. “But I don't want it to be over,” he admitted, shyness and desperation filling in his tone. “It doesn't have to be,” you replied as you squeeze your walls around his softening cock. A wicked smile plays on your lips, as you whisper, “It isn't over until I say so.”

He nods, willing to agree with whatever you say. You pushed him off you, getting yourself on top of him as his soft cock fully slips out of your pussy, leaving the entrance pushing out of his cum. Your fingers gather his seed and you pop your digits into your mouth, your tongue lapping up his taste off your fingertips. His dick twitches from the sight, coming back to life as Coryo lets out a whine while he looks at you sucking your fingers so good with your mouth hollow.

You take his length in your hand, fingers surrounding the girth in a perfect fist. He hissed when you squeezed and began to stroke him slowly. Trying your best not to overwhelm him and failing miserably because tears were pooling in his eyes, his lips were parted to leave wounded, pretty sounds. His fingers curled on the bed sheets as you stroke his cock back to life.

You lean to press another kiss to the tip, your eyes peering at his teary ones. “You sure?” You asked, you had to pat his cheek for an answer because all that left his mouth as you questioned was a whimper.

“Do you want to continue, Coryo?” You asked, in the softest tone possible. Your mind is ready to cuddle him for aftercare and draw a shower. But instead, he shakes his head, “Don't please- I need this.”

“Okay, I won't,” you whispered back, your lips pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, and then let the kisses trail until you reach his neck where his pulse is. Your mouth begins to suck as you continue to stroke his length, your fist now covered with his drooling pre-cum, a bit more watery than before.

Your free hand goes to your cunt, your fingers rubbing your clit to feel some relief from your aching pussy. Coriolanus notices that and can't help but feel bad. His fingers wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements, a silent question in his eyes and you removed your hand in answer.

A giddiness could be seen in Coryos as he explores your cunt for the first time. You get into a position where it is easier for you both to play with each other. He spreads your pussy lips, his eyes taking in your glistening cunt (with your juices and his cum). He swipes at your folds, gathering the wetness all over his digits, and you encourage him to take the digits in his mouth, and of course, he agrees.

He will do anything to get his head empty and his body to be jelly. So he takes his fingers in his mouth, letting his tongue lick every remnant of your juices and his bitter cum. He groans, his eyes getting cross stared and his cock begins to throb dangerously in your end. He was close to the edge again by such a simple thing.

‘Cute’ you thought, but you don't want him to cum again without getting something in return. So you stopped the strokes, ignoring his confusion, and pleas for more. Instead, you guide yourself on his cock again, your eyes flashing to him with a warning that despite the gentleness you had shown, you could be cruel too.

Yet when you sink on his cock, you make sure to hold his hand, fingers intertwined for comfort. You murmur endless praises to him.

“That's a good boy.” “Look at you filling me up so well.” “Ah- fuck, baby. Your cock is stretching me out perfectly.”

Each praise made his cock throb against your pulsating walls. This time he didn't cum immediately, but the jolt of electricity that went through his veins when both of your pelvis bones were touching, now joined to the hilt felt like he did. You take the hand you were holding and kiss the inside of your wrist with butterfly kisses.

These simple actions of yours were overwhelming to him. No one had cared for him so delicately like he was glass. It meant everything to him and a rush of emotions caused tears to begin to flow from his eyes.

You chalked his crying to overstimulation and leaned forward to kiss his eyelids. “It's okay,” you whispered against his ear, “It's okay, Coryo.” You let out a soft moan as you begin to move your hips. Slow and shallow thrusts. You hear him groan too, his hand squeezing yours. His free hand on your ass, groping the flesh.

“That's a good boy,” you whispered when you began to speed up your rocking hips making Coriolanus gasp. “You're doing so well, my dear,” you praised him. You moan as your hips find the perfect angle to hit the spongy spot in your gummy walls.

You begin to ride Coryo in earnest. His cock stroked the deepest part of your slick walls with each thrust. It makes you see stars with each breath you take. It was perfect and you made sure that Snow knew that with your hushed praises. Meanwhile, Coriolanus wasn't better off either with molten lava in his body, his mind now blank with how good getting dick wet felt.

He never understood the hype about sex but now he was addicted. He was sure he was going to need you like air, like a puppy going for a pet to its owner for comfort. He was going to need you after this, again and again.

He was close, wanting to cum again, he could feel how wet your walls were and wondered if it was your juices or his own that contributed to it the most. He was close so he voiced that. “I am-” he closed his eyes, feeling the burn of embarrassment, “Close.”

You hum in response, stopping your movements to catch a much-needed breath. “You're not allowed to cum until I say so, pretty boy,” you said with authority, “I let it go the first time, now I expect you to behave.” You add, “You'll cum with my permission or else. . .” You smirk, “You're a smart boy, Coryo. You wouldn't like punishment, would you?”

Coriolanus shakes his head, he sniffs and you find it adorable how his nose scrunches up that it makes you smile at him. “I will be good, I promise,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please.”

You give him a nod. You leaned down to kiss his lips, both of your tongues tangling together into something soft. Your hand leaves the grip it had on his hand to wrap itself around his neck. He moans inside your mouth as you put a bit of pressure onto his neck, not restricting his breathing but certainly making him light-headed. It worked as a good distraction.

Your free hand goes between your bodies and you find your clit. Your fingers begin to play with the bud. Small circles send jolts of pleasure to your core, making your cunt tighten around his dick. It made his hip snap back into yours, a deep groan resounding in the room as his hips began to thrust into you. Just small movements of sheer desperation of wanting to cum.

You were feeling the same, desperation clawing your body as the tension keeps building and building each time his cockhead grazes your g-spot. You were so close and everything turned sloppy.

Two animals in heat it seemed with how the two of you were acting. Your fingers pinch your clit as you begin to rock on his cock faster than ever, deep groans leaving Coryo's lips and his hands holding onto your hips to ground him as he takes whatever you give.

He was pussy drunk, his eyes glazed over and mouth drooling on the corners. You were pathetic enough to lick the saliva, holding his jaw open as you gathered your spit inside your mouth and then you let the goop of drool fall onto his tongue.

You thought for a moment this would snap him out from his fucked out glaze, except he swallowed it without a word, his hips stuttering in the pace and he mutters, his lips glistening, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” And god, that ruined you.

Your cunt begins to spasm around his cock, flexing walls around his length causing him to cry out for permission to let go and you yell out a yes. Liquidy spurts of cum begin to shoot out of his tip and inside your womb. Both of you let out a moan as the thrusts begin to slow down and cease.

As soon as you catch your breath and your body feels solidified, you caress his cheek. “Would you like to cuddle, baby?”

The answer to that was a breathless yes.

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rareluvs · 3 months ago

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you walk in on coryo jerking off and you end up helping him out 😏

nsfw mdni, masturbation, handjob, virgin!academy!coryo, fem!best friend!reader, coryo is a puppy i fear, sub!coryo if u squint

no you're so right.

coryo having his large hand wrapped around his large cock, mouth open and sucking in air through his nose because just knows that if he opens his mouth, he'll moan. more than likely to be your name.

how could he not?

you had answered the most difficult questions in class today, and then your cheeks had flushed when giving your answer and coriolanus had felt himself twitch when watching your lips move with the sweet, intelligent words spewing from your mouth. he was very normal about it.

he'd go home, thankful tigris was at work and grandma'am was tending to her roses, because he needed to cum. now.

and he'd practically have all of the blood drain from his face if you caught him. of course, he wouldn't hear you, too lost in the thought of what you moans could sound like and the image of you laying beneath him or on top, he's not picky would have him bucking into his hand, cock weeping and so so sensitive, enough to not hear your knocks. what color were you nipples? do you squirt or cream?

god, if you let him fuck you he would be so grateful seeing his cock fill you up-

it would be your audible "coryo?" that makes his eyes snap up and his face drain and body freeze all motions, brain feeling like molasses. "i-" he would try to start, eyes slowly becoming sharper from their dazed state. "i can explain." he would say thickly.

and he would watch how you don't run away in disgust, just rather take steps closer to him, and he would be so grateful for you, that even a look sent his way has his cock sobbing for attention. "let me help you. it looks painful." you would say. like the true friend you are, and he would try not to cum then and there.

it's safe to say when coriolanus feels your hand on him, working him over, that he truly begins to think you are an angel wrapped in the pretty package of being his best friend. and when your thumb brushes over his slit and you're whispering encouragement? well, who is coriolanus to not immediately bring you closer to kiss you to hide his moans, because he knows he would be loud if he didn't.

"so close," he pants into your mouth, blue eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears. you had brought him to near tears. "never..never had anyone touch me like this." he admits quietly.

"are you a virgin?" you had asked so sweetly, almost cooing and coriolanus whimpers. he whimpers, and heat floods his face and he nods silently. how embarrassing for a guy like him. but when you work him faster, cooing and even pressing a kiss to his temple with the words, "oh...you've always been so pretty though? like a puppy." he cums so hard with a strangled keen into your neck, that he feels like he might forget everything, even his name, in lieu of hearing you call him puppy.

he hears you giggle as you pump him till he's shivering, gathering all his cum into your hand and licking it clean, and it's the hottest and most devastating image he has seen to date, better than any thought or imagination he could conjure up.

and if you make quick work of your own academy uniform, saying that since you helped him out, a best friend would do the same for you? he'd practically pounce on you, taking in the sight of your drenched panties, and smile.

that's what best friends are for, right?

#jippyasks #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #thg tbosas #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you

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theloveinc · 1 year ago

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any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

#miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie #miguel #atsv #LOL THIS WAS SO FUNNNN I HOPE ITS OK TO READ #I'M EBARASSED THO SO YEEET #SORRY I BAD AT TAGS LATELY WAHH #caitie things #gen #anon

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only-luce-the-goose · 8 months ago

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Relax

A/N: This is my first SPN fic, I hope it's good.

Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Synopsis: Your tired boyfriend is trying to dig up all the lore he can on a new creature. He's been at it for hours and just won't take a break, it's a good thing you're pretty convincing.

Warnings: titty sucking, mommy kink (if you squint)

"Cmonnnnn Sammy, it's 1am, you can't sit there all night. You gotta come to bed at some point." You said as you walked over to him, coming behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. He leaned his head into yours and sighed. "I have to figure this out, Y/N. Something doesn't add up and it's driving me crazy." You have his shoulders a squeeze as you replied "Why don't you come try again in the morning, give yourself a break and come back with fresh eyes. I'll even help you!" Sam chuckled, everyone knew you hated researching, reading was never on your to do list.

"Thank you for the offer gorgeous, but I'll sleep easier if I can just figure this out" the yawn that followed that sentence was far from convincing. "Guess I have to take a different approach." You swung your leg around, perching yourself on his lap "I'm gonna try something you've been wanting to try" Sam looked up at you as he said "What do you mean beautiful?" Your smirked and sent him a wink "You'll see, baby"

*Flashback*

You’re chilling on the bed you share with Sam when he comes sauntering in, “I have a question” he states as he stops at the end of the bed. “Well, hello to you too handsome” you chuckle “what’s up?” He comes over and sits next to you as he says “you know how I get in those research funks, how I just can’t figure it out and no matter how hard you try, you can’t make me leave?” You give him a look when you say “of course I do, I hate it when you get all funked”

Sam chuckles when you say funked. Even after being with the boys for years, hearing Sam laugh still gives you butterflies. “I think I know a way to make me forget about my funk for a little bit” he says. You raise your eyebrow “if you say sex, I’m gonna slap you!” Now Sam full blown laughs, “that’s not what I was going to say” then he starts stuttering “well-I-ya know-it-umm-when…”

After amusing yourself a little more, you cut him off. “Spit it out, Winchester!” Sam signed, a defeated look crossed his face when he abruptly says “I wanna suck your tits!” As soon as he realised the word that came out of his mouth, he turned beet red. He all but ran out of the room while you sat there shocked.

You quickly jumped up, running after him. “Sam, Sam wait! Please Sam, let’s just talk!” You caught him running I got the control room, catching the door before he could lock it. “I’m sorry Y/N! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I know it’s weird and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” Sam rambled. You giggled a little, finding his word vomiting amusing. “What?” He leaned his head to the side. “Well, Sammy, what if I told you that I would be down to try that,” you started. “One condition though” you said as he nodded. I get to start it randomly, when I feel like that would be a really good time” you watched his face to gauge his reaction. “Ok” he replied with a smile.

*End Flashback*

“I remember” Sam said with a small smile. “Well” you said as you lifted up the hoodie, revealing to him that you had no bra “have at it.” Sam broke into a grin, placing his hands on your ass to bring you closer, kissing you as a silent thanks. He attached his lips to your right nipple and began sucking. He shoulder relaxed, arms shaking around your waist while yours played with his hair.

There was absolutely nothing sexual about what was happening at all, just a pure distraction. After a few minutes, Sam licked over your right nipple a few more times before switching to your left one, sucking on it as hard as the first. Dam signed contently as he eventually worked his way to the valley of your breasts, kissing and sucking the skin there.

You pulled his head back for a minute, sleep evident in his eyes. “Ready for bed Sammy?” He looked up with tired eyes, “yeah” he said he picked you up. Slowly, he made his way through the hall with you still wrapped around him. Upon finding the bed, he gently layer you both down as you drifted off to sleep, Sam’s head against your chest.

A/N: Hope you like it! Requests are open!

#sam wincester x reader fluff #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural fanfic #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn

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cowgurrrl · 9 months ago

Text

Playing the Game

Pairing: Javier Peña x CIA!reader

Summary: The Aftermath [4.0k]

Warnings: interrogation setting, language, description of injuries (NOTHING GRAPHIC), discussions of nightmares, short dialogue in Spanish, Chekov’s gun if you squint really hard, some smutty thoughts and happenings, a little bit of backstory, canonical violence

"I understand that the events from a few months ago are still fresh in everyone's minds," you say, looking around the room of higher-ups. It's a big mix. CIA, DEA, military personnel, and even Ambassador Noonan. That's standard, you think. It's not every day an undercover CIA agent gets made in the streets of Medellín, kidnapped, and tortured for three days. "But my health has improved over these past few weeks, and my doctors have cleared me to return to the field. Given the grace of the board here today, I would like to return to work and finish the job I came to Colombia to do."

You accepted the transfer to the United States Embassy in Bogotá a little over two years ago and did desk work for a few months before committing to an undercover job to collect intel on the cartel. It was safe enough. Most days were uneventful as you tuned into the codes and subtle behaviors of those involved. Still, you almost always carried your service weapon with you. You made the right friends. You kept your head down. You checked in with another CIA agent once a week and regularly relayed information to two DEA agents, Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. You were fine until you weren't.

You still don't really know how they found out you were undercover or exactly what happened over those three days after they snatched you from the sidewalk. Sometimes, you're able to string together conversations had between them beating the shit out of you, but it's a lot of you repeating yourself. "No sé nada. No sé nada." You said over and over again as they accused you of lying and went back to torturing you. It wasn't an official ruling, but the people who stormed into the building collectively believed you were dead. When they stumbled in to find you sitting there, beaten but breathing, they thought it was a small-scale miracle. Upon further investigation and questioning, they were even more surprised you didn't give up any information. Instead, you threw out false leads to buy yourself and the embassy time. This wasn't your first rodeo. You knew better.

All in all, you walked away starving and dehydrated with a perforated eardrum, deep lacerations from your own pair of handcuffs, a broken wrist, countless cuts and bruises, a concussion, a fucked up knee, and cigarette burns on your arms. Guards parked themselves outside your hospital room and your apartment until they were sure the threat to your life was suspended. Since then, you've been stuck at home, bored to tears, doing physical therapy exercises to regain strength in your leg, and reading declassified files sent to you. You're up to date on the latest happenings in Medellín and more than ready to come back.

"Agent, I appreciate your willingness and courage to return to work, but how do you know the sicarios won't try to come after you again?" Colonel Wysession asks, and you shrug.

"How do we know that they might not try to come after any of us?" You ask. "You made a statement when you killed everyone involved with my kidnapping. They should know not to fuck with government agents, especially after Kiki Camarena's death."

"'Should' doesn't mean they won't try it again." Ambassador Noonan chimes in.

"You're right. They're still out there, wreaking havoc on the country and innocent people, which means you need all the hands you can get to catch them. I know firsthand how they operate and communicate with each other. You won't be able to get that information again, especially after the raid." You say. Agent Jones, the CIA representative, sighs as he flips your file open and looks over it. The interagency cooperation is nice and all, but it really comes down to him and Ambassador Noonan to make the final call.

"You have an impressive record here, Agent. You were one of the top graduates from Camp Peary. A stint overseas to surveil communist groups in Eastern Europe. Assistance in multiple criminal investigations at home. Your information and skill have helped your country in innumerable ways," he says. "They even gave you a code name for your successes undercover: The Swallow."

"To be clear, I didn't approve of that name." You say quickly, and Agent Jones looks up from your file.

"It's rare to get a code name anyone approves of." He says, and you nod, deciding to play nice.

"I guess that's true."

You know exactly why you got given that name, and it will never not make your skin crawl. Years of work in the Agency, months spent undercover, and enough bullets fired in the name of democracy to haunt you for a lifetime, and in return, you get that name plastered to your record forever. So much for respect, right?

"Agent, our main concern right now is that in bringing you back to the field, we are putting a target on your back. Now, you've made it very clear that is a burden you're willing to carry, but that doesn't mean the United States is willing to carry it as well." Ambassador Noonan says.

"Ambassador, with all due respect, the second we put American agents on the ground here in Colombia, the United States not only carried the burden but also condoned it. Other Agency personnel are all aware of the immediate threat of being here and doing this work, and many, many men have disappeared because of it. I've made it back more than once. I can do it again."

"Are you sleeping well, Agent?" Agent Jones asks out of the blue, and you turn to look at him. The question throws you off guard. You were prepared to defend your work and skill, not your personal habits. But, your mind immediately jumps to the other night without your permission.

It started how it always starts. Flinching in your sleep at phantom hits and talking to no one in particular. Random mumbling at first but then clearer, louder, until you were screaming. You shot up in bed, shaking and crying and swearing you could smell burnt flesh again. You didn't know where you were at first, but old habits die hard, and you instinctively reached for your gun. Someone grabbed your hand to keep you from hurting yourself and shushed you when you cried louder at the grip on your wrists. "It's me," he said gently, turning you around to face him. "It's me."

"I'm sleeping as well as anyone in my line of work can." You tell Agent Jones, pushing the memory from your head. "I'll sleep much better once Escobar's in the ground or behind bars."

"You're really dedicated to this, huh?" Colonel Wysession says, eyeing Noonan out of the corner of his eye, and you nod.

"A couple of loyal men with guns don't scare me, sir," you say. "After the show of force at the recon, I doubt they'll come after any one of us again. But if they do and it's me, I'll get on the first flight home. No questions asked." You know it's a good offer. You know they love to take risks with their agents and then act like they're doing them a service by taking them out. You know how to play this game.

Jones, Noonan, and Wysession talk quietly amongst themselves as you sit there, your hands folded calmly in front of you. It takes them all of two minutes to come to a decision.

"You're cleared to return to four weeks of desk duty. After that time, we will reevaluate your position and see if we can't get you back in the field." Ambassador Noonan tells you decisively, and your jaw clenches.

"Four weeks?"

"I can make it six."

"Four will be perfectly fine, ma'am. Thank you, Ambassador." You say as you stand up and shake her hand.

"Welcome back, Agent."

You almost forgot how mind-numbing desk duty is. If you hadn't been made, you definitely would've. All day, you watch agents from other agencies come in and out with intel and stories from the streets while you're forced to sit there and file reports on a typewriter that may be older than you. You want to gouge your eyes out when you catch wind of a planned tactical pursuit. The gun sitting in the top drawer of your desk feels like it's burning a hole in your brain, and all you want to do is go back out and do actual work. You didn't graduate top of your class to be a fucking secretary.

You don't know what's worse: desk duty or being chained to your desk when a familiar voice calls your name.

"Well, if it isn't the biggest pain in my ass," you greet as Javi parks himself in front of you. He doesn't object to you calling him a pain in the ass. It even seems to amuse him. "How can I help you, Javier?"

"What makes you think I need somethin', huh? Maybe I just wanted to see how you're doing." Javi says, and you chuckle, shuffling especially important files away from prying eyes. He rests his hands on your desk and leans forward, his billowy shirt opening enough to give up a nice view of his chest. You glance between him and his collarbones and level him with a knowing look.

"Call it intuition." You say. You wait another second for him to fess up to what he needs before lifting your hands to start typing again. He sighs and slides you a picture of a sicario, looking around to ensure nobody's watching the interaction.

"What do you know about him?" He asks quietly. You furrow your brows and shake your head.

"Who's that?"

"C'mon, I know you have intel on all these fuckers. I just need to know where he hangs out. We need to ask him a few questions."

"And when Noonan asks where you got the information? Because you know she will ask."

"I'll say I got it from an especially beautiful high-level CI."

"Enticing," you say. "I don't work for you, Javi. If you want information, go out on the streets and get it yourself."

"Nobody's willing to acknowledge that this guy is the reason a CIA agent got kidnapped." He says. You stiffen in your chair and look at the picture again. You know you have information on him and remember seeing him around town when you were undercover. You also know you're not supposed to give classified information to the DEA until it is declassified.

"How do you know that?" You ask, and he shrugs as he crosses his arms over his chest.

"If I tell you, are you gonna give me something in return?"

"If you make it good."

"We have reason to believe one of Pablo's informants caught you sniffing around for information and started tracking your movements. We still don't know how he found out you were CIA, and we need to find him to understand how," he says, pointing at the picture to emphasize his point. You take a deep breath and debate your options. "Look, all I'm asking you to do is… misplace a few files. It happens all the time. There's no way it would come back to you. Plus, I know how bored you are. Live a little."

"They've still got you on desk duty?" Steve asks as he comes down the steps, and you look away from Javi's intense gaze to smile at him. Steve, Javi's partner and DEA's golden boy, has always been kind to you. You're friends with his wife, Connie, and you've spent many a drunken night at their apartment. He's a good man. You give it a few more months here before that changes.

"Couple more weeks." You say before looking back at Javi. “Sabe lo que me estás pidiendo que haga?” Thank God for white men who move to a country with no understanding of the language. Javi gives you a look and chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Por supuesto que no.” He shakes his head and you scoff.

"Eso es que piensaba," you say as you sigh, tear off a corner from a scrap piece of paper, and write down the name of a local bar. "His name is Jorge Alemán. He hides from his wife and mistresses at this bar downtown. He's gonna be armed, so be careful." You hold out the piece of paper to Javi but pull it back before he can grab it. "This doesn't come back to me."

"Course not." He says. You finally hand it to him and look over your shoulder to make sure nobody's watching you give him information. Steve looks confused but willing to go along with whatever as Javi memorizes the name.

"Do me a favor?" You say, forcing his brown eyes away from the paper. "Don't pull your punches with him. They certainly didn't with me." It's the most you've talked about the kidnapping at work since it happened. You catch both Steve and Javi looking at the thick scars around your wrists, but you don't pull them away. If anything, you hope it inspires them to get a little creative with their interrogation.

"Yes, ma'am," Javi promises. With that, he takes the paper and the picture, and the two of them disappear up the stairs to do whatever they need to get information. It's better for all three of you if you don't know the exact details of how the other does their jobs. You've each seen the aftermath of each other's training. You don't need to imagine much, but it's a nice boundary in a time where there seems to be none.

When Steve and Javi come back a few hours later with "important intel" for the Ambassador, you pretend not to know anything about it. Thirty minutes later, you're called in to get the information for the first time, and you tell them what you already told Steve and Javi. They agree to fly CENTRA SPIKE over him for a few days to see if they can pick anything up. "Is there anything I can do to assist with this investigation, Ambassador?" You ask before she can try to dismiss the three of you, and she shakes her head.

"A few more weeks, Agent. I need to ensure your safety before I let you loose again."

"Ambassador, it might be helpful to let her return fully to the field. It could inspire Alemán to reach out to his contacts about her, and we could get more information about how she got made." Steve suggests, and Javi nods.

"He's right. We have to give CENTRA SPIKE something to pick up. Why not details about her?" Obviously, your absence has impacted them, especially if they're going to bat for you. Part of you warms at the thought of them caring so much about you, but the other part worries about what the Ambassador will say.

"Her work is also valuable to the Embassy as a whole. It would be a mistake to sideline her any longer."

"Okay, gentlemen, you've made your point," Noonan cuts Steve off before he can continue, and you have to fight your smile when she looks at you. "Can you handle this?" She asks, and you nod.

"Yes, ma'am." You say. She shakes her head before reaching for what you're assuming is your file behind her and writing something down.

"The second I think it's too much for you, I'm pulling you back out. This time for two months and there will be no negotiations to be had unless you want to get on a plane home. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," you agree. "Thank you, Ambassador."

"Don't make me regret this."

You'd be lying if you said you didn't go home with a little extra pep in your step. You got two weeks taken off of your mandatory desk duty and got your badge back. You've had much worse days, most of which ended with you drinking one too many and smoking until your small apartment is hazy. Today, you feel much better despite your apartment being a mess.

Mail has piled up on the counter next to your medical discharge paperwork and physical therapy exercises. Letters postmarked from the United States bore into you as you do your best to ignore them by plopping your bag on top of them. Half-open rolls of gauze are scattered around, so you could always have one on hand when changing your dressings. Your breakfast dishes are still in the sink, but you are not motivated to wash them. Besides, you're just gonna make a bigger mess once you start making dinner.

You'd been thinking about what you would make all day and only settled on it once you left the Ambassador's office. There's not much you get to control during your day, so you take special care with the food you eat. You like cooking. You always have, and you're not half-bad at it. It's one of the only times you can call the shots and turn your mind off, worries about cartel numbers and communist groups in the jungle pushed away for a time. You're stirring a big pot on the stove when the knock sounds at your door.

He's late. He's always late. He'll claim it's deliberate so nobody can track his movements, but you're convinced he has no sense of time. His work habits can prove as much. You can't count how often you've been working late with him and had to pull him away from his desk because he didn't realize it was midnight. "Just let me do one more thing, and then we can leave," he's always tried to negotiate. You barely manage to get him to stop every time, but he relents after so much convincing.

You turn down the radio in your kitchen and walk over to the door to let him in, a smile already tugging at your lips. You barely have the deadbolt unlocked before he's pushing through the door and stealing air from you. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes (a nightcap with Steve?), and your hands reach up to play with the curls at the nape of his neck. He hums against you as he shuts the door behind him and presses you against it.

"Somethin' smells good." He mumbles.

"I'm making dinner. Figured it was a special occasion." You say, but he's already ducking his head down to mouth at the column of your throat, his teeth grazing the spot he knows makes you dizzy.

"'M not hungry." He says even though you know for a fact he's been living on cigarettes and coffee all day. You push him away and give him a look, but he feigns innocence, his fingers sneaking their way up your shirt.

"I did not cook all this food for you to tell me you're not hungry," you say. He opens his mouth to argue, but you kiss him before he can, and he, predictably, melts into you. "Dinner first, and then I'll let you do whatever you want me to do. Deal?"

"Whatever I want?" He echoes, and you nod. "Must be a damn good dinner."

"Mm, the best." You say as you push him off you to return to the stove. He sighs and lets you pass, but he quickly settles behind you, his hands dangerously roaming over you as you stir the pot again. You smack his wrist when his hand tries to duck under your waistband, and he groans. "You made a deal."

"Deals are broken all the time," he kisses the back of your neck, insatiable, and you shiver as his mustache brushes against your skin. "I've also been thinkin' bout this since you pulled that shit at work."

"That really did it for you, huh?" You ask, a smirk pulling at your lips, but it quickly fades when he grinds his hard cock against you. He nips at your earlobe and successfully manages to unbutton the top of your jeans, your breath hitching when his fingers trace the waistband of your panties.

"You don't work for me, huh?" He breathes, and you laugh as you rest your head back on his shoulder.

"My security clearance is higher than yours."

"Y'know, sometimes I think you like terrorizing me."

"Who says I don't?" You know you're treading thin ice with him, but you don't care. You always like to rile Javi up just to see what he'll do. When he reaches around you to safely turn off the stove, you know you've got him right where you want him. Something in your brain complains about the dinner you made, but it quickly shuts up once his fingers push your underwear to the side and graze your clit. You sigh in relief, already putty in his hands, and he's barely touched you.

He draws tight circles around the little bundle of nerves, and you grip the edge of the counter to try to keep your balance. His other hand rests lazily around your throat, not enough to restrict your breathing but enough to keep you upright with the promise that he could. This— the desperate need and no time wasted— is more familiar than anything else.

Since the kidnapping, he's treated you like you're made of glass. He tried a few times to come to take care of you, but every time you argued about something, you would make him leave. You'd rather heal alone than have someone staring at you like a kicked dog. You were the one practically begging him to touch you the second you felt well enough, and you were the one who had to convince him you wouldn't break. Later, he would tell you he was scared to even kiss you because he just kept seeing you chained to that chair, bloody and beaten. It's taken a lot of adjustments on both sides, but him pressing you against the counter and taking control is the most reminiscent of the beginnings of your relationship when it was still "one more time," and you could barely stand each other.

It was stress relief. In a lot of ways, it still is. Nobody knows about you two, and neither of you is ready or willing to disclose to Noonan. She'd immediately send one of you home, but it definitely wouldn't be Javi. So, you're completely fine sneaking between apartments and fucking catastrophic days away. It's enough. Unlike the way he's touching you.

"Javi," you whine, arching into his touch, and he shushes you. His middle finger barely pushes into you when a loud boom sounds nearby, followed by blaring car alarms. You jump, and he quickly withdraws and shields your body with his as the floor shakes. It might not have been in the neighborhood, but it was really fucking close. You wait out any aftershocks or additional bombs, and both your phones start ringing, not even five minutes later.

A car bomb planted in Jorge Alemán's truck exploded when he put the keys in the ignition. He died before the bomb was even done exploding. Whoever found out you were CIA not only sold that information, but they killed Alemán before he could talk. They must've seen Javi and Steve poking around. They might know you're back at the Agency. They might try to kill you as a way of tying up their loose ends. Steve warns you as much when you show up at the scene, uncomfortably turned on and annoyed at the same time.

"This could get real ugly," Steve says, and you nod.

"You regret coming down here?" You ask. He gives you a look as Javi walks around the vehicle's wreckage but shakes his head.

"Do you?"

"No," you say. "I came here to nail Escobar, and I'm not going home until we do. If it has to get ugly for that to happen, that's fine." He looks like he wants to say something more but stops himself. Instead, you join Javi next to the car and talk with the local police about what happened, completely aware that bystanders have seen your face and the gun on your hip. They know you're with the United States government, and they know what you're worth.

Yeah, shit was gonna get real ugly, and you thought you were ready for it. But then again, everyone did in 1992.

TAGLIST:@abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia (let me know if you don't wanna be tagged for this series!)

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moonlight1110 · 10 months ago

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Warming up to you ♡

Ghost x Reader; College!au fluff miniseries

Tags: VERY quick reads, far from canon Simon, fluff, strangers to lovers?!!!, college!au

PART: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

"Hey, why weren't you in class today? Did something happen?"

Sent 2:03pm

"Sorry I couldn't be in class, feeling sick today :/ I'll make up for it though, I promise"

Sent 2:10pm

"That's not the problem you should be worrying about right now. Do you have medicine or food?"

Sent 2:10pm

"Not much, but I'm making do with some water and a sandwich LOL"

Sent 2:16pm

"Hang tight, I'm on my way"

Sent 2:17pm

You furrow your brows at his last text message, not really understanding what he meant. You lived in an apartment building a few blocks away from your college but you didn't remember telling him that detail when you first met...

The assignment was coming to an end, and your early efforts with working on it were paying off since only some minor parts were left, it gave you some time to breathe in-between the work you were also juggling with other classes.

Thoughts of the assignment were quickly brushed away the moment you heard knocking on your door. "Coming..." Your voice was hoarse as you replied, trying your best to reach the door as quickly as possible.

"Jesus, you look rough" Simon scoffs upon seeing your messy hair and a thick blanket wrapped around your body. "You don't have to say it out loud... Come in" you shoot him a glare as you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment with a small plastic bag in hand.

"How did you even know I live here... I don't think I've ever told you that information..." You squint at him, waiting for his answer. "You didn't tell me but you've certainly told your friends, I listen" his response was quick, almost like he knew you would ask that question.

"Okay... So what do you have in there?" You pointed to the plastic bag he set down on the coffee table, it looked heavy and you couldn't really figure out the silhouette of the items inside.

"I bought you medicine," he starts, pulling out the items one by one.

Cough medicine, pain killers, flu medicine

"And I bought you some real food, can't have you living off of a sandwich when you're sick" he takes the final item out, it was a meal pack, a good looking one at that.

"Oh, wow— you didn't have to do this..." You replied with a stifled cough as you covered your mouth, walking over to him. "Wanted to" he chuckled, looking over to you with concern in his eyes. He didn't need to say it out loud but you could feel he was worried about you.

You smiled, between the pain that was pulsing in your head and the dryness of your throat, you felt warm and tingly all over from Simon's gesture...

"Now let's get you to bed so you can rest up"

You were surprised at how caring he was being... But bits of his personality were really uncovered throughout the course of working on the assignment with him. A full month of working together and it really seemed like Simon was starting to get out of his shell, but only with you though.

He couldn't deny that you were really growing on him and he was starting to develop a soft spot for you.

You walked into your room, plopping down on the bed with a tired groan as you hugged your blanket close to you. Simon followed shortly after with a glass of water and a capsule in hand.

"Drink this before you lay down"

You nod and drink the medicine as he helped you drink the water, bringing the glass to your lips and tipping it slowly so you wouldn't have a hard time.

"Now move over—" he walked to the other end of your bed, starting to climb up on it. "What...?" You ask, a little dumbfounded as the bed creaked and dipped from his weight. "Move over, I'm gonna help you sleep" he replied ever so nonchalantly as he moved closer to you.

You blink at him, almost convinced he was joking, but his position on the bed said otherwise. "Come here, you need t'rest up" he was holding his arms out, a silent invitation for you to cuddle up to him.

You felt your face burn red as you slowly followed his instructions, laying your head down on the muscle of his arm as you faced his chest. "Y-you don't think this is too much, do you?" You look up at him, Simon could see the blush painted on your cheeks and it made his chest swell with a feeling he knew he was developing for you.

"No, do you?" He retorted, his arms slowly snaking around your back and pulling you closer to him, your chest now flush with his stomach and your head pressed against his chest. "Now shut up and sleep, can't have my partner bailing out on me 'cause of a cold" he closes his eyes but continues to rub your back in soothing circles, making you chuckle at the difference between his words and his actions.

"You'll catch my cold though..."

"I don't catch colds, now sleep"

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seeds-and-sins · 10 months ago

Text

Light My Fire - Part Six

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, descriptions of explicit sexual content)

Description: The Deep and Phoenix are sent to investigate a certain set of twins.

Tagged: @tonixe @chernayawidow, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn

Part Five

Sure. Soldier Boy understood you, but that didn't mean he really wanted you. It didn't mean that he would have chosen you over all else. He didn't care about you. When you think back on it, on the memories once lost in your head, now found, you were vulnerable. You allowed him into your heart when you shouldn't have. You knew better than to do that.

And Ben stuck. Ben attached himself to you like glue and you allowed it. Why would you allow that? Ben treated you so poorly back then, why would you allow him to get to you? A few words of sentiment, the exchange of an unsaid promise that was empty and forgotten. You had lived far too long to fall prey to such stupid sweet nothings. When Ben propped his chin on your head, when he wrapped his arms around you and told you that you were safe, you fell for it. How could you?

For years you tried to figure out what happened to him, and when you did Vought fucked you up worse than you already were. Why go through that for someone who didn't even care? Someone who would never choose you?

So, you chose John.

"You're not going to um..." Your droopy gaze shifted in the Deep's direction and the man's words crumbled with his composure. The Deep became a stuttering mess, eyes wide, a hard frown on his lips.

"What?" You breathed, swishing the glass of bronze liquid in your hand before bringing it to your lips for another sip. "Spontaneously burst into flames?"

"Um..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"No. I'm not gonna' do that." Your eyes returned to the massive screen in front of you. The pixelated words had blended together, camera footage and images of Soldier Boy flooded the screen.

"Just making sure..." The Deep began, his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped. "You've been sitting here for a little bit, drinking."

"I can't get drunk so, it doesn't matter anyways."

"Yeah but, doesn't alcohol like-make you worse-I mean-"

"Shut up." You stated firmly, in a dead tone. You hadn't had many interactions with the Deep since you had arrived back at the tower all those months ago. What you did know was that you hated him. You didn't need to know much about him to know that he was a piece of shit. The news and tabloids agreed, but even more so, the way he weaseled a spot back into the Seven made you sick to your stomach. You thought Swatto was bad all those years ago. The Deep was worse. At least Swatto owned up to the horrible accusations, the Deep tried to pretend like nothing happened. Coward. "Can you look something up for me?" It wasn't much of a question as it was a demand. The Deep knew as much when he cast a side glance in your direction.

You kicked your feet up onto the desk, still dressed in your hero suit. You tucked the glass of whiskey in your lap and crossed your ankles.

"Sure-uh-what exactly?"

"Look up me." You stared intently at the screen, not flinching once at the expression on the Deep's face.

"Are you-"

"Look me up now." And the vigorous tapping of keys sounded through a devastating silence. Images of you popped up, old and new, as well as a few files and a short synapsis of information. "Hmm..." You sipped from the glass, calm and collected. "That's my name." You pondered, the Deep squinted at you.

"You didn't know your name?"

"I forgot my name. Last person to call me by it wants me dead." You shrugged, the tip of your finger tracing the lip of your glass. "I want to know something specific." Your voice was distant, you felt like you were hovering above your body looking in.

"O-kayy~"

"Pull up my file for the year 1994."

"1994?" The Deep muttered in confusion, a few moments passed in quiet as he scrolled across the search and clicked through files. He paused with a frown. "It's classified."

"Classified?" You spat, abruptly jerking up from your seat and slamming the glass down onto the desk. The Deep flinched, he held his hands up from the keyboard.

"Look, man, I don't know. It's just classified." You stood fully and crossed your arms, eyes skimming the screen, everything was blacked out.

"Open it then."

"That's not how it works. Some of this stuff needs security clea-"

"You're in charge of fuckin' security! Do it!" You fumed and the waves of heat rolling off of you were enough to send the Deep in motion. He was shaking as he tried to find a way into your information. The Deep wasn't suited for this job, but Homelander was convinced that the Deep was a useful pawn in his quest to takeover Vought. Just then, the Deep accidentally clicked a distant file and a video popped up on the screen. "Stop!" You leaned in. It was Vogelbaum, he was wearing a mask, speaking into a camera, sitting at a desk, your unconscious body was resting on an examination table in the background.

"Day Three. It is approximately eight in the morning, eastern time, on September 23rd, 1994." The quality of the footage was old. Voegelbaum was younger then. The mask muffled his voice, but you knew what he was saying. "After repeated attempts, I have concluded it to be impossible to harvest any cellular matter from Subject 665's body. Her skin is impenetrable to the extent that even the scraping of simple tissue matter is impossible. It is fascinating how the carbon monoxide weakens her thermodynamic abilities, but retains the sturdiness of her cellular structure as a result of those abilities. Attempts at transvaginal ultrasound aspiration have failed, but I have been in the process of creating a concoction that might be capable of targeting the cells in her body, making it easier to harvest the egg follicles residing in her ovaries." You cupped a handle over your mouth, tears peeking at the corners of your eyes. What did that mean? The pills?! You had been taking them for years, only having recently stopped. What did that mean?! "We will keep Subject 665 in containment for a little longer, given that Mindstorm's treatments toward her mental state continue to work."

The video ended.

"More!" You hissed at the Deep and he aggressively began typing away, when another video popped up:

You were sitting at a white table, all too familiar to you. You were dressed in a tank top and baggy sweatpants. Your hair was disheveled and your eyes were sunken and the light inside you was fading bit by bit.

"Phoenix," It was Vogelbaum, sitting somewhere outside of the camera's view, your neck craned back and you chewed anxiously at your bottom lip. "Do you recall where we started off last? Or would you like me to refresh your memory?"

"What do you want?" You whispered, your voice was shaky and you sounded like you were on the verge of tears.

"Tell me what first made you suspicious of Soldier Boy's death." You crossed your arms, eyes frantically looking around the room.

"It-It didn't seem right. Everyone was too normal."

"Your peers didn't seem to like him, so you can't blame them-"

"No. It just wasn't right." You blurted out, jabbing a finger at your chest. "I knew! I knew it wasn't right!"

"Okay, okay, calm down." Vogelbaum urged, you saw his hand enter the frame of the camera from across the table, but he didn't dare touch you and risk burning himself. "And what did you do after that?"

"I went to Nicaragua." You said, releasing a shaky breath.

"And what did you do there?"

"I-I-" Your looked away, hands now rested in your lap, twiddling your thumbs. "I needed to find out what happened."

"Of course," Vogelbaum chirped, "I expect no less."

"The locals didn't want to answer my questions." You lowered your head, Vogelbaum pressed further.

"And what did you do?"

"I killed some people."

"Some?"

"Okay..." You sighed, then timidly admitted, "I killed a lot of people."

"Is there a reason why Soldier Boy's death affected you so?"

"If he could die..." Your breath hitched, "Maybe I could too."

"Interesting." Homelander piped in from his place behind you. You had assumed he had been standing there for a while because he wasn't looking at you the same. You were like a damaged animal and he was your abusive keeper. "I'm sending the Deep and you to go check on the twins." The video continued running in the background, but John didn't seem to care about the images and sounds circulating from the screen.

"Why me?" You snapped, John blinked down at you with cold, steely eyes.

"You think the Deep can fight Soldier Boy head on?"

The answer to that was 'no', everyone knew that.

"I know he can't, but I would rather just leave him to die."

"Wow, that was heartfelt." The Deep blurted out, immediately regretting his sarcastic remark with a hand slapped over his lips.

"Phoenix." John sighed, placing a firm hand on your shoulder, a warning. "I need your help on this. We know Soldier Boy's next marks. This is our chance to get a jump on him."

"If he's half the man he was when I was working with him, we'll never get the jump on him." To anyone else, John was Homelander. To you, John was a boy. He had the same look of fear in his eyes now that he had the first time you introduced him to a crowd. It was overwhelming. You didn't blame John for being scared, but there was something else. There was always something else.

...

You dropped Deep onto the concrete pavement of a lengthy driveway. You were about twelve feet up, he hit the ground with a hard thud and plopped onto his side.

"Fuck!" He hissed, "Was that necessary?!" Phoenix ignored him as she lowered herself, clasping her hands behind her back as she considered the mansion in front of them. Oh, how she wanted to run through it like a knife to butter. These TNT twins lived in luxury after what they had done to Soldier Boy, after what they had done to you, and you would take that away from them first before taking away their lives.

"Come on, sea slug. We got business to take care of." The Deep trotted up to your side, albeit wincing and rubbing at his arm.

"What did I do to you?! Hmm?" He had somehow gained the courage to confront you, when now wasn't really a good time. "I've been good to you."

"You sexually assaulted and raped dozens of woman, and you want to know why I don't like you? That's funny." You said in a dead and even tone that must have sent chills down the Deep's spine because he stopped walking. You approached the mahogany doors, glaring at them, feeling the fire burning in your blood. "You're going to have to do the talking."

"What? Why? Weren't these guys on your team all those years ago?"

"I want to kill them." The Deep gulped, nervously stuttering out nothing before nodding his head and bringing a fist to the door.

"Yeah, I'll do the talking." As you were waiting for the door to open, you couldn't help but get the feeling that you were being watched. The mansion was surrounded by a large plot of land, a sparse tree line bordering it. It could have been nothing, but then also it could have been something. Even with pretty much every part of yourself being 'superhuman', you never had the ability to hear someone's heart beat or see through solid objects. The most you could do in that regard was focus really hard and you might be able to detect nearby heat sources. And that was if you focused really hard. But what you did have was a sixth sense. Your old team used to comment on it all the time. You always had a feeling that something was going to happen before it did. You could always feel when something was off, not right. It was how you knew that Soldier Boy never really died in Nicaragua, it was how you found John in that lab all those years ago, and now, it was how you knew that something was about to happen. Something big.

What if Soldier Boy was here? What if that was why Tommy and Tessa weren't answering the door? Maybe Soldier Boy had already killed them? Your anxiety spiked. You weren't ready. You thought you were, but you weren't. You were anything but ready. What if he was the one that answered the door? What would you do?

You weren't the same person. Neither of you were the same person. He wanted you dead.

"Jesus Christ. Knock again." You crossed your arms, cape swaying behind you, your eyes frantically tracing the tree line once more. The Deep knocked, hitting the door a little harder this time. The door swung open. Music emanated from inside, loud moans and screams of pleasure and booming conversations and-

No. Fuck no. It couldn't be...

They were still doing this shit?

Tommy and Tessa were standing there. Tessa was wearing a leather dominatrix-esque outfit and Tommy was wearing a golden robe and a pair of dirty looking boxer shorts. They both looked aged. Old and worn down. Part of you envied Tessa's wrinkles and Tommy's grey hairs and you wanted that, but it was only a distant thought before you tuned in. They were pleased when they saw the Deep, but the moment their twin eyes landed on you, you could noticeably see the fear blossom in their very souls. Good, you thought, they should be afraid.

"The Deep..." Tommy began, "Captain of the Seven Seas, and..." Tommy choked, eyes wide as he looked you up and down.

"Phoenix." Tessa said cooly, nursing her cigarette. She was as tough looking as she was when you first met her, attempting to put on the persona that made her seem ruthless and brave. But Tessa was terrified, and you knew it better than anybody. You fed off of their fear like a lion did their meat and you were starving for it. "Long time no see."

"Well..." The Deep cleared his throat. "Sorry to drop in like this unannounced."

"Not at all, um-" Tommy froze up again at the sight of your unflinching stare, honed in on him. "We were having a bit of a celebration." He chuckled nervously, clapping his hands together. "You guys are welcome to come on in." Before the Deep could speak, Phoenix piped in:

"You know who started Herogasm?" Tommy glanced at Tessa, they sent each other uneasy looks. "Soldier Boy. You remember him, right?" This smile crept up onto your face, plastered on, hard and sharp.

"Yeah." Tessa snorted, shrugging. "Figured we'd keep the tradition alive. Why not?"

"Hmm." You sighed, stepping forward and scooping Tessa and Tommy in your arms and into a tight hug. Your head was between theirs, they stood stiff like wooden boards. Neither of them were strong enough to protest. "So good to see you guys again." You leaned back, a hand on either of their shoulders and you held them in place, looking between them with that same smile. "I just wanted to let you guys know that I know." Tessa squinted at you, she had dropped her cigarette in fear when you looped them into your death hug.

"I'm sorry?" She whispered with a wince. Tommy chewed his bottom lip.

"K-K-Know what?"

"Everything." Your whispered back as your grin widened. You didn't have to have super hearing to know that Tommy's heart skipped.

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#the boys #the seven #black noir #crimson countess #oc hero name #vought international #homelander #soldier boy x reader #the tnt twins #tnt twins #mindstorm #swatto #the deep #a train #vogelbaum

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songmingisthighs · 2 years ago

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Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lix - i'm calling HR

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

"This is nice," you sighed as you sunk into the warm bubbly water.

San chuckled as he took a sip from his glass of champagne, "And you threatened to call the HR on me," one of his eyebrows was raised to poke fun at you. You squinted your eyes at him and poke his toned stomach with your foot in the water which San just chuckled.

You didn't realize that San had prepared a whole evening for you two. Initially, you thought that he wanted to just hang out watching dumb cat videos on youtube and then have a quickie. So imagine your surprise when you arrived at San's condo (using the keycard he gave you) to be welcomed with an ultra-fancy dinner (take out my ass) and a promise to take a dip in his gigantic bathtub that he had filled to the brim with bubbles, surrounded by candles, and with a bottle of Moet in an ice bucket and two chilled glasses. It really felt like he put an effort to plan the evening and it just felt nice to be treated like that. Even by your boss.

With a roll of the eye, you jokingly kicked his leg just hard enough that a bit of water splashed onto his chest. "I didn't threaten you, I promised you I would if you do something that pisses me off," you pointed out as you took a sip of your own champagne. "And what would piss you off? Giving you a luxurious experience you've never had before?" San smirked cockily as if to make the point that he was just being nice to you which means that you were wrong. "An experience I've never had before?" this time you raised an eyebrow at him, realizing that he didn't know much about your life, especially about your lifestyle, "This is probably only the fourth best bathtub I've ever been into." Surprised, San sat up straight and placed his glass on the side, "Excuse me, what do you mean fourth best bathtub? How many guys' bathtubs have you been into?" though he was only asking, he couldn't deny that there was a slight offended edge to his tone which was kind of funny to you. "I mean if I count the Aman Hotel in Tokyo, the Conservatorium Hotel in Amsterdam, and the Four Seasons in Anguilla, yours rank after that and honestly, you're only able to rank that high because you own your bathtub," the look of surprise and confusion on San's face was priceless. "The fuck?" he scoffed, "How do you know the baths in those places?" in hindsight, that question was a rather stupid one. But you couldn't blame San for asking what basically was a "how did you afford to experience such luxurious places?" question just less accusatory.

Though the question was a rather simple one, you couldn't help but feel a heaviness in your chest. The drop in your expression didn't go unnoticed by San (surprisingly). So he reached for your hand under the water, taking it in his gently as a sign of support and reassurance to whatever you had to say. You know that San didn't know and you know you didn't have to tell him anything. Heck, if you say you weren't comfortable being candid with him, you know he would understand it well. But you wanted to, you wanted to share one of the hardest moments in your life.

"My... My parents died in a plane crash," the oxygen was knocked out of San's lungs momentarily, not expecting you to say something that heavy. Immediately, his grip became significantly harder on you and you took it as his reflex when hearing a piece of rather uncomfortable news than anything else. "It was years ago, I think close to a year after our incident. My dad was sent on a business trip by his company and they had this trial deal thing with an old private plane charter company that was trying to make a comeback. Thinking that it was fancy and stuff, my dad took my mom and they didn't think to take me because my dad said it was just gonna be business talks among business people so I relented. Then their plane engine blew up mid-flight and it turns out that the pilot and co-pilot already addressed their concerns to the company prior to taking off but because they were trying to make a good name for themselves, they decided to check the issue after the plane landed in the destination." The water rippled and your eyes flitted to see San shifting to sit up and leaning closer to you, his focus was completely on you and he was waiting for you to let whatever you needed to let out be let out. "After the accident, the company initially didn't want to pay damages to my family while the charter company tried to pay my family some hush money. My uncle, who now took care of me and my family's finances, decided to sue and not surprisingly won since there were black-box recordings and records of negligence from the charter company and the company was liable because the charter company's vehicle report and trip records are public record and were even in their proposal, so we got all this money and all we had to do was lose my parents. While my uncle took some money for him to develop his academy, most of them were invested and left alone for me and I resented him for taking the money because it felt like they were just accepting their death," you chuckled darkly at yourself. Almost immediately, San pulled you in his strong arms with your face tucked into his neck. The water heater provided nothing in comparison to the warmth that San was giving you. You instinctively inhaled and you noticed that he smelled like musk, something woodsy, but there was a hint of sweetness to it. You liked it, it was comfortable, it felt safe.

For a second, San didn't say anything as his brain couldn't formulate the words that he wanted to tell you, the things that he wanted to convey to you. It kind of came crashing down on him, how hard your life has been after he left you and he never even thought to check up. At that moment, he blamed himself for thinking too much of his own hardships that he hadn't even considered that you would be in a predicament yourself. Of course, how could anyone expect 'parents dying from a plane crash' to be the problem, but he felt like it was such a dickish move on his part to not even consider keeping up with your life mainly because he claimed to have cared for you so much.

Wanting to be completely candid, San said the first thing that popped into his head.

"You meant to tell me you've been working for me just because? You didn't even ned the money? Your salary could have been reduced and it wouldn't have made a difference or you?" the slap you delivered to his chest let him know that his attempt at making you feel better was working and he couldn't but chuckle at your response. "Excuse me, my salary is pretty fucking justifiable considering the headache I have to deal with," you joked back. San faked a gasp and pulled back slightly to look at you, "Excuse me, did you just call me a headache?" to which you replied with a dramatic exhale, "Thank fuck you realized it on your own." With your comment, San pulled you into his lap, effectively surprising you as you settled with a yelp and your hands on his shoulders. "Take that back," he demanded, eyebrows furrowing in faux anger and knowing that it was so, you scrunched your nose and shook your head at him, "I don't think I will."

As quick as your quip, San pulled you into a kiss, bodies now flush against each other. You moaned into his mouth at the feeling of his lips melding with yours. San is a rough guy by nature, and now you were more aware of how it became so, but you loved how his kisses were soft and careful, seemingly calculated even but never complicated nor overly planned. It was odd that you were so fixated on the way he kissed, but with all the shit he spewed on you during your first week of work, it's nice knowing that it can do great things too. San's hands slowly trailed down your body and settled on your ass, giving it a light squeeze that made you gasp. "Is it weird if we have sex now?" he asked as his lips moved to litter kisses all over the lower part of your face. As a response, you simply shifted and sunk your cunt onto his hard cock, shuddering as you go down. San paused momentarily to watch the look on your face as you took him in with no trouble. He just loved how the candles illuminated your soapy skin, making it seem like you were glowing and perhaps you were and San was just glad to be able to see it.

Just as San was about to grip your hips so he could fuck you, you reached for both of his hands and took them out of the water, spreading them gently on the edge of the tub before pecking him on the lips gently. "You've done a lot for me tonight, let me show my gratitude." San's pupils dilated when he saw you lean back with a smirk, one hand placed gently on his chest as you began rocking. With everything going on, San didn't know where to focus first; the feeling of water splashing on his skin, the smell of sex wafting in the air, your cunt hugging his cock, or even the sound of you letting out the cutest little moans and pants as you work him. God, he felt powerful in that position for no reason. San wasn't a power-hungry person per se, nor was he obsessed with dominance. But at that moment, seeing you pleasing him, he do wonder if it was how full hybrids feel especially those who were born as alphas. He knew animal instincts during sex could win over his own basic human instincts (heck, he had his own experience with it), but this is a new feeling and you brought it out of him.

"Fuck, you're enjoying fucking yourself on me, aren't you, little bitch?" he groaned, bucking his hips out of the blue that almost had you toppling forward with a gasp. "Yes, San, yes- fuck!" you duck down and began nibbling on his milky skin, leaving trails of red marks down the side of his neck to match the red lines your nails left on his chest. "Can I please cum?" you whined lowly, wanting to cum as soon as your high hits. Feeling rather gracious, San slipped a hand down your body, tweaking your nipple, then pressing the pads of his fingers directly on your clit to give you more stimulation on top of having his dick in your cunt. It felt so so good, the extra friction that was caused by his stagnant palm.

It didn't take you much to throw your head back and cum on San's dick. Although San would've liked it more if you warned him, he couldn't complain when he had your chest shoved to his face. When he came not long after, he made a show of taking your whole left tit in his mouth, sucking it harshly while his cum made a mess inside your cunt. "God- San!" you whimpered, body doubling forward and draping over his. Your body tingled and visibly shook with the feeling of San's warmth inside you and his mouth turning your nipple raw.

When you came down from your high, you pulled away slightly to cup San's face gently. There was a string of saliva that was attached from his lips to your nipple and when he looked up at you, he looked oddly innocent and even adorable even in such a promiscuous position. He was looking at you with such curious eyes and at that moment, you saw him as himself. Not as corporate leader San, not as a Choi Family Pack member, not even as wolf hybrid San, but as Choi San. He had every reason to not want to listen or know anything about you and your past but he spent his time listening to you which was how you were able to see the glimmer of the old San in him. The San you fell in love with, the San who was just so sweet to you and wasn't a jerk despite coming from such an affluent family.

Neither of you said anything, simply basking in each other's after-sex glow in such a romantic setting. San felt safe enough to close his eyes and enjoy the feeling of your soft touches on his cheeks, caressing the area lightly with care. Then you surprised him, making his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch by giving him a soft peck on his forehead. His hands immediately wound around your waist and gripped you tightly.

Silence remained between the two but that's because both of you knew that no words were needed. No words could describe or explain what was going on between the two of you. The moment was just there. It was perfect. For that moment.

taglist :

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pragerswoman · 2 months ago

Note

Hey silly! Can you do prager x brown involving anal and oral? <3

Warnings: smut, MDNI, NSFW

Pairing: prager x brown

A/n: Heyyy thank you so much for the request hope you love it ☺️

Prager strolled into the kitchen, the cool tile floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the summer day outside. The hum of the fridge and the faint scent of last night's takeout filled the air. He spotted the half-empty carton of milk on the counter, the white liquid hinting at the sweetness within. With a casual yawn, he poured himself a glass, the condensation beading on the plastic surface.

As he took a sip, the door to the bedroom cracked open and Brown, his boyfriend, poked his head out. His hair was a wild mess, his cheeks flushed with sleep. The morning light danced across his bare shoulders, casting shadows across his smooth chest. He squinted against the brightness, the question in his eyes clear even from the distance. "You're up early," he murmured, his voice thick with the residue of sleep.

Prager smirked, placing the glass down with a deliberate thud. "I could say the same about you," he replied, his eyes raking over Brown's sleep-rumpled form. He gestured to the bulge in his sweatpants with a knowing tilt of his head. "Looks like you've got a little morning wood."

Brown's eyes widened, and he took a step back, the doorframe hiding the rest of his body. "I...uh...was just heading to the bathroom," he stuttered, his cheeks growing even redder.

Prager chuckled, the sound deep and knowing. "No need to be shy, I've seen it all before," he said, his voice dropping an octave as he began to stride across the room, his own arousal now obvious. "Why don't you come over here and take care of that for me?"

Brown's pulse quickened, and his eyes darted down to Prager's growing bulge. He bit his bottom lip, his mind racing with anticipation. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, he couldn't help but feel a thrill at the raw, unspoken desire that hung between them. With a nod, he padded barefoot over to his boyfriend, his eyes never leaving the prize in front of him.

Prager reached down and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his thick, hard cock. It sprang up, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Brown's eyes widened even further, but he didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees, his heart pounding in his chest. The scent of Prager's arousal filled his nostrils, a potent mix of musk and sweetness. He leaned in, his warm breath teasing the sensitive skin.

"Take it," Prager urged, his hand resting gently on the back of Brown's head. Brown's eyes flicked up to meet Prager's, and he could see the hunger in them, the need for release. He parted his lips and took the head of Prager's cock into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. The taste was faintly salty, but it was the feeling of Prager's hands on his head, guiding him deeper, that sent a jolt of pleasure through him. He could feel Prager's thighs tense, his abs tighten as he began to suck, taking in more and more of his length.

Prager's groans grew louder, his hips moving in rhythm with Brown's mouth. Brown's hands roamed over Prager's body, feeling the muscles twitch and flex beneath his touch. He reached down and began to stroke himself, his own arousal now painfully clear. He could feel the tension building in Prager's body, the throb of his cock increasing with every stroke of his tongue. The sound of wet suckling filled the kitchen, a stark reminder of their early morning rendezvous.

With a final, guttural groan, Prager erupted into Brown's mouth. Brown swallowed, savoring the warm, salty taste of his boyfriend's cum. He looked up, his eyes watering slightly, and smiled. "Good boy," Prager murmured, his hand still tangled in Brown's hair.

But the moment of tenderness was fleeting. Brown's eyes flashed with mischief as he stood up, his cock now fully erect and demanding attention. He grabbed Prager's waist, turning him around so that he was bent over the kitchen counter. The coldness of the marble sent a shiver through Prager's body, his cock now semi-flaccid but his hole still pulsing with need. Brown didn't waste any time, aligning himself with Prager's entrance and pushing in.

Prager's breath caught in his throat as the thickness of Brown's cock stretched him open. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, his eyes squeezed shut. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming, but it was quickly replaced with a wave of pleasure as Brown began to move. His thrusts were deep and deliberate, hitting all the right spots. Prager's fingers curled around the edge of the countertop, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. He could feel the warmth spreading through him, the sensation building with every stroke.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, punctuated by the occasional gasp or moan. The scent of their combined arousal grew stronger, a heady aroma that made Prager's head spin. His own cock was now fully hard again, slapping against his stomach as Brown pounded into him from behind. The countertop was slick with sweat, making it easier for Prager to slide back and meet each thrust.

Brown's hands gripped Prager's hips tightly, his nails digging in just enough to leave a hint of pain. It was a delicious sensation that only served to enhance the pleasure building within him. His breaths grew ragged, his body tensing in anticipation. He knew Prager was close, could feel it in the way his muscles clenched around him, the desperate way he was begging for more. Brown's own climax was approaching, the pressure in his balls growing unbearable.

With one final, powerful thrust, he reached his peak. The cum shot out of him in thick ropes, filling Prager's ass completely. It was more than usual, a testament to his desire. The feeling of his boyfriend's warmth enveloping him was almost too much to handle. He watched as Prager's body convulsed with pleasure, the muscles in his ass gripping and releasing around his cock, milking every drop from him. It was a sight that never failed to make him feel like the most powerful man in the world.

#recom smut #avatar twow #recom prager #recom brown #recom prager x recom brown

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heecase · 2 years ago

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Midnight Rain Chapter 2:Long Time No See

Synopsis: You've always been a planner. You had your whole life planned out, but Heeseung breaking up with you for a chance to become an idol wasn't apart of your plan. So now you're stuck with supporting him from afar. Until a college boy sweeps you off your feet. Everything was supposed to be perfect. Then why were you still yearning for your first love? Pairing: Idol! Heeseung x Fem! Reader; Nonidol! Yeonjun x Fem! Reader Word Count: 3.5k Genre: Angst, Fluff (if you squint) Warnings: Heartbreak; Lying; Cheating; Drinking; Intoxication; Arguing; Gaslighting; One KYS joke

A/n: The story is all fiction, please don't take any depictions of the boys to heart. I love them all dearly and their personalities are only meant to progress the story. Any feedback is welcomed! Please enjoy~

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“I’m telling you something is off.” Chaewon stressed, as she sipped her coffee. You rolled your eyes at her, while taking a drink from your fruit smoothie.

“And I’m telling you, nothing is going on. I don’t know why you’re so insistent that Yeonjun is cheating on me. Especially since we just got engaged.” You frowned. You hated being in this position. One where you had to choose between your love and your best friend.

“Exactly! You guys have been together forever, so why did he pop the question now of all times? You said so yourself, he comes home late all the time and he hasn’t been as intimate with you either. I can feel it. I feel like he’s up to something and you don’t even realize it.” You sighed, thinking about the small possibility that Chaewon might be right. It’s been a year since you’ve graduated from college and a month since Yeonjun popped the big question. Sure, things weren’t ideal in your relationship but no relationship is perfect. Besides, you’ve been together for almost 5 years at this point and if he was cheating on you, why would he ask you to marry him? It just didn’t make any sense.

“Listen, he comes home late because his job is very demanding, they’re a start up company and he’s been working very hard to get them off their feet, so I can understand if he doesn’t have the energy to, ya know. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t think anything is going on.” You picked up your phone to check the time before gathering your things. “I gotta get back to work but I’ll call you okay?” Chaewon didn’t answer, she just stared at you as you left.

A shaky sigh leaving her lips as she pulls out her phone to look at the pictures she got sent this morning. It was photos of Yeonjun and a mysterious girl leaving a club drunk with their hands all over each other. She could’ve shown it to you to prove her point, but she couldn’t bear to see your heart break before her eyes so she chose to keep it to herself for now. Maybe these pictures were taken out of context and she really was the one going off the rails with this but she doubts it. She’s always gotten bad vibes from him ever since the first time she met him. She didn’t feel like she had the right to dictate your relationship, so she kept her opinions to herself. But he’s finally crossed a line where she can no longer sit back and just watch. She wasn’t going to let you marry someone who was unfaithful to you. You were her best friend and she’ll do anything to protect you and your happiness. She just has to come up with a plan that won't make her look like the bad guy. Easy right?

That evening, you’re lounging at home in your shared apartment with Yeonjun. As you sip on your wine, you think about the conversation you had with Chaewon on your lunch break. Should you actually confront him about what Chaewon told you? She did make sense, even though you dismissed her worries. Or are you going to forget about it like always and finish this bottle before going to bed? If you were truthful to yourself, you would ask him because deep down you also knew something was going on. You weren’t naive like most people thought you were but you’ve wasted so much time, so many years, with him that it would almost be a pity to end it now. You had already made plans in your future with him in mind and it wouldn’t be convenient to change them now. But at this point you didn’t know if you were still in this relationship out of love or obligation. You’re truly pathetic.

On days like this when you’re not feeling your best, you pull up Enhypen’s youtube channel and watch your first love live his dream. He really did it. He was able to make a name for himself in a cut throat industry and you couldn’t be more proud. Seeing him so happy made you happy in return. It was like his happiness was enough for you to forget your tragic life. You just wish you could be there for him but supporting him from afar like this was enough.

You sighed, thinking about how everything was going according to how you envisioned it, then why didn’t you feel happy? You’re getting everything you’ve ever wanted. You have a stable job working in graphic designs at Kakao Entertainment. Your coworkers were bearable and your boss didn’t make you want to kill yourself. You’re going to get married to Yeonjun within a year, then probably have kids soon after that. Chaewon will be your kids' godmother because she doesn’t want to settle down so she’ll live vicariously through you and you’ll live happily ever after. It was supposed to be that simple. But life was never that simple. As you finished your last glass of wine and the en o’clock episode you were on, the front door opened and you could hear Yeonjun stumble through the hallway. He was drunk again.

“Baby, what are you doing still up?” He slurred, falling heavily onto the couch next to you. He reeked of alcohol and you scrunch your nose at the smell.

“I was waiting for you. Where were you?” You asked, trying to mask the nervousness in your voice. Were you really about to do this?

“I was out with the team. We were having dinner with an important investor. I didn’t realize how late it was. I’m sorry, I should’ve texted you.” He rubbed soothingly up and down your exposed thigh. Goosebumps formed in place of his warm touch when he retracted his hand to pull off his tie.

“It’s okay.” You paused, taking a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Yeonjun, are you cheating on me?”

“What?!” The look on his face told you everything you needed to know. To outsiders, he looked shocked but if you stare into his eyes you could tell he felt guilty.

“Are you cheating on me? Were you really at a business dinner cause I don’t know any business dinners that end at 2am.” You crossed your arms as you stared at him. This time you weren’t going to let it go. You had to get to the bottom of this.

“Baby, can we not do this right now. My head is killing me.” He rubbed his temples roughly.

“Fine, if that’s what you want.” You take off your engagement ring and place it on the coffee table. “But if we don’t talk about this now, then I’m going to Chaewon's for the night. I’m not going to lay beside you in bed while thoughts of you with someone else run through my head, without you reassuring me that it’s not true.”

“Y/n, please. You’re being really unreasonable right now. I’ve had a rough day and I really don’t need this.” He picked up your ring to put back on your finger but you jerked your hand away when he tried.

“Just tell me the fucking truth Yeonjun! Stop beating around the bush!” You yelled, no longer having the patience for him.

“You want to know the truth so badly?!” He stared at you with a look you’ve never seen before. “Fine! I did cheat on you. But it was a moment of weakness. Baby I swear it didn’t mean anything.”

“What do you mean a moment of weakness?! When did this happen?!” Your eyes widened as you stared at the ring in his hand. “Is that why you proposed to me?! Because you felt guilty??” You clutched your chest as your heart started to beat erratically.

“No! That’s not why I did it. Just let me explain first.” He pleaded, grabbing your free hand in his. You didn't respond but your silence was enough of a sign for him to continue anyway.

“We were having problems with securing an investor and there was this rich guy’s daughter who was coming on to me during the business meetings. The guys told me that if I didn’t play along that I would be terminated because this was going to be our last chance. If we didn’t get this rich guy on board then the company would have to shut down. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean for it to lead to anything. I was just being nice to her at first, but then she kept feeding me drinks and I blacked out. I don’t even remember what happened but all I know is she means nothing to me! All I need is you. Please, you have to believe me.” Tears were now streaming down his face. He looked so desperate for you to believe him that it hurt you to see him like this. This wasn’t the strong, charismatic Yeonjun you used to know. That Yeonjun hasn’t been seen since college. The Yeonjun in front of you is only the shell of the person he was.

“Yeonjun, I don’t know…” You looked down at your hands, trying to think about what you wanted to do.

“Baby, the deal is already done. I really was at a business meeting tonight. They signed the contract already, so I don’t have to entertain his daughter anymore. I promise. This will never happen again. Baby please, I can change and be a better man for you. Please, I can’t lose you.” He cupped your face in his hands as his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You leaned into his touch and let yourself forgive him one more time. As you nodded, he closed the space and captured your lips. The kiss was forceful and desperate. He successfully conveyed all of his feelings to you with just that one kiss and you hated that you were so weak for him but maybe this was the final draw. Maybe this was the awakening that he needed to get his shit together.

Chaewon was not pleased to hear the outcome of your argument. She was sure this would be the one thing that would make you finally leave him. She never expected you would forgive him and move on like nothing happened.

“You’re so stupid.” She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“You didn’t see him, Chae. He was really sorry and it wasn’t really even his fault. He was black out drunk.” You sighed.

“Yeah that’s what he wants you to think.��

“Can we please move on from this? I don’t like it when you guys are butting heads.” You pleaded, grabbing her hands and giving her the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

“Fine, but you have to come with me to a party tonight.” Her eyes twinkled as you gave her an unsure look.

“Another one? I don’t think Yeonjun will like it if I go out tonight.”

“Fine, then we can continue to talk about you and your stupid decisions.” She replied, sarcastically.

“No! Of course, I would love to go with you! I’m sure Yeonjun will understand if I explain it to him.” You smiled as you cuddled up to her. She tried to keep her angry persona but she melted when you started clinging to her arm. She has to remind herself that she’s angry at Yeonjun and not at you. You didn’t do anything wrong so making you feel bad doesn’t make her the better person.

If there was one thing about Chaewon’s twitch success that you didn’t like, it would be the influencer parties. She would always insist you go with her because she didn’t want to arrive alone, even though you don’t know any of the people there.Well not personally at least, there are always celebrities there but you’re too shy to talk to them. However, these parties always had good alcohol and delicious finger food so you had plenty to keep you occupied as Chaewon mingled.

“Chae, don’t you think this dress is a little too much?” You frowned in front of the mirror at the skimpy black dress she gave you to wear. It was skintight and fell to the top of your thigh with a princess neckline and off the shoulder straps

“Not at all! You look so sexy!” She clapped her hands in awe.

“I don’t know if I’m really going for sexy tonight.”

“Oh come on. It’s from the new Prada line and one of us has to wear it to the party and I think it looks better on you.” She spun you around to admire the dress on your figure. Once Chaewon made up her mind, there was no changing it so you sighed out in defeat. You let her fix your hair and make up as well as give you a pair of heels to wear. Chaewon wore a light pink dress full of blurry flowers and butterflies with a similar neckline to yours and off the shoulder sleeves. Once she was satisfied with the way you both look, you made your way downstairs into the waiting uber.

The party was grand as expected. All the huge influencers were present, not that you would know any of them, and even a few celebrities. You stuck to Chaewon’s side like glue throughout the night, afraid of losing the small girl in the crowd. After a couple of drinks and snacks, you found yourself sitting beside her on a bench in the corner of the venue. You sighed as you realized you finished another drink. Glancing around, you failed to see any servers with trays of alcohol so you decided to hit the bar. You whispered to Chaewon where you were going and excused yourself from the group.

As you stood at the bar, you looked around at the hundreds of people in attendance and you were in awe at all the pretty people in the room. That was until your eyes landed on a very familiar figure. He was in the corner of the room with three boys around him and you knew right away who they were. Your breath hitched when Heeseung’s eyes flickered to yours and held your gaze. You looked away when the bartender placed your drink in front of you, snapping you out of whatever trance you were in. What was he doing here? Did he recognize you? There’s no way he did. It’s been too long. Right? You tried to be sneaky when you glanced back over to where he was but he was no longer there. Only the three boys remain. They were whispering to each other while gesturing in your direction. That’s odd. Were they talking about you?

“Long time no see.” A breath hits your neck making goosebumps form in its place. You gasped as you spun around to come face to face with Heeseung. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“Uh… yeah… me either.” You stuttered. Heeseung was standing in front of you and he was even more gorgeous in person. He looked more mature than from when you were in high school and maybe a little bit taller too. But his presence was different. His aura was suffocating and you forgot how to breathe.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked, sipping his beer casually.

“Oh.. I’m here with my friend Chaewon.” You answered, following his action and sipping your vodka orange juice. The liquid warmed up your insides, but did little to calm your pounding heart.

“Cool. How have you been?” His gaze was starting to burn as he stared at you. You felt your cheeks heat up as you failed to get any words past your lips. He didn’t push you to answer and you were grateful but the familiar beating of your heart was enough to make you go insane. This isn’t good. You have to get away from him.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to get back to Chaewon. I don’t want her to think I got lost.” You retreated quickly, leaving him alone. Before he could protest, you were already gone and he lost you in the crowd.

“Chae, can we leave?” You asked, pulling on her arm like a little child.

“What’s wrong?” She looked you up and down to make sure you were okay.

“I’m okay, I just really need to go home now. Yeonjun is looking for me.” You lied. There was a slight pause as she processed your words.

“Yeah of course.” She took your hand and said goodbye to her friends before leading you to the door.

“Y/n, wait!” Heeseung’s voice could be heard over the loud music. Chaewon paused to look over at him before you quickly dragged her out of the building without glancing his way.

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s really going on?” She asked once you got into the uber.

“I ran into my ex and I think I had too much to drink. I didn’t want to do anything stupid so I wanted to leave.” You tried to sound nonchalant but you knew your voice was still weak simply from being in his presence.

“Wait. Who’s your ex?” She tilted her head in confusion. This was the first she’s heard of an ex from you. As far as she knows, you’ve only ever dated Yeonjun.

“It’s Lee Heeseung from the kpop group Enhypen. We used to date in high school before he debuted.” You explained. Your voice didn’t sound nervous but your fidgety hands said otherwise.

“You used to date Heeseung?!” She gasped. “I play League with him sometimes on stream.”

“You play League with him?! But you suck at that game!” You asked equally as shocked.

“That’s not the point. Is that why he was chasing you down as we were trying to leave?” She raised a brow at you.

“Well, he caught me at the bar and we had a small chat but then I just felt too overwhelmed so I said I needed to leave. I didn’t think he would come after me.” You pondered why he would do that. You weren’t anything to each other anymore.

“Maybe he still likes you. I mean you do look smoking in that dress.” She teased.

“But he’s Heeseung. He could literally get anyone in that room if he wanted to, so I doubt he would want me of all people.” You looked down at your lap.

“Y/n, stop selling yourself short. You’re just as beautiful as any of the other girls at that party. Trust me, he wasn’t the only one making eyes at you.” You scoffed at her but her reassurance did make you feel better.

“He broke up with me when he left to become an idol. It was his choice.”

“So if he were to want you back, would you take him back?” She questioned.

“I have Yeonjun. I can’t take him back.” And that was the answer she wanted to hear. If Yeonjun was out of the picture then you would take Heeseung back. It’s as simple as that. She knew Heeseung was a good guy from the many rounds of League they played together. Let’s just say, she plays because the viewers want her to and not because she’s amazing at the game. So Heeseung does tend to carry her through most, if not all, of their wins. But he’s never once complained or made her feel like she was a burden to him in any way. So she would much prefer her best friend with a sweet guy like him and not a cheater like Yeonjun.

The gears spun in her head as she cuddled against your side for the rest of the ride. You could’ve caught on to what was going through her head but you were too busy arguing with Yeonjun through text. He was still upset that you went to the party in the first place and now he’s even more upset that you wouldn’t be home tonight because you decided to crash at Chaewon’s place. But you tried to reassure him and said you’ll see him tomorrow. Sighing, you closed your phone to return Chaewon’s cuddles.

The next morning, you got up early to leave, making Chaewon wake up with you and she was not happy about it.

“Let me know when you get there.” She yawned out, as she pulled her covers closer to her chin.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” You giggled, placing a soft kiss to her cheek before heading out.

Chaewon was going to sleep in today but the events from yesterday were still lingering on her mind. Throwing the covers off, she sat at her computer contemplating if she should message Heeseung or not. Eventually, her hand moved to click his chat.

Y/n told me everything. Do you want her back? She waited for a few seconds before the reply came.

Of course I do. She smirked at the message.

Perfect. Then you’ll have to do as I say.

Taglist: @nobodyshallenter @sunsunl0ver @huening-ly @qeen123

#enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x y/n #heeseung x yn #enhypen heeseung #enhypen angst #heeseung angst #enha fanfic #enha x reader #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung fanfic #heeseung fanfic #kpop fanfiction #lee heesung x reader #heecase #midnight rain #txt yeonjun #yeonjun x reader

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fixfoxnox · 2 years ago

Note

I'm in LOVE with your Jackson and Gaz stories idk how to articulate how much I'm obsessed

I'm in love with writing Jackson/Gaz its my favorite thing ever. Please accept:

Shovel Talk - Jackson/Gaz, Price

Jackson peered at his phone again, looking at the number of the conference room he was supposed to be looking for. He thought it was a little odd that Gaz wanted to see him in a conference room of all places, but he wasn't going to question his boyfriend. Not when there was a tempting emoji of an eggplant and water droplets that had followed minutes after his first message.

He continued down the hallways of the unfamiliar base, stopping once he'd finally found the room number that he'd been sent. He tucked his phone into his pocket, taking a moment to straighten out his clothes and try to slick down his hair. He gave a puff of his breath in his hand, smelling it and giving a small satisfied nod at the knowledge that the mint he'd put in his mouth ten minutes earlier had done its job.

With that all checked out and a growing feeling of excitement in his veins, he reached forward, pressing into the conference room. "Sorry, I'm late Gaz, I had trouble finding the," he stopped in his tracks.

Sitting at the table, papers spread out in front of him, was one Captain John Price. Gaz's Captain. Roach's Captain. The man they both looked up to. The man who looked after them like they were his children.

He looked up at Jackson carefully, giving him a short, manufactured smile and motioning to the seat across from him, "Sergeant Jackson. Please take a seat."

"Captain Price," Jackson responded, trying to keep his voice steady, "Sorry, I must have the wrong room! I was looking for-"

"Gaz?" Price questioned with a tilt of his head. "No, you have the right room." He motioned to the chair again and, after a few moments, when Jackson didn't move he gave a stern, "Sit." The word was bitten out between clenched teeth that were pressed into a false smile. Jackson's body moved on instinct, his mind screaming danger.

He moved to the chair, sitting in it carefully, watching Price for a moment. Finally, he worked up the courage to say, "Uh, sir, I really should go, Gaz is expecting-"

"Gaz isn't expecting you." Price tilted his head down, "I had Laswell send that text to you from Gaz's number. He doesn't even know a text was sent."

Jackson felt himself freeze. This was not good. Not in the slightest. "Why," he cleared his throat, his words having gone high pitched, "why would you do that sir?"

"So that I could finally get a chance to speak with you," Price leaned forward slightly, "You've been avoiding me quite well."

Jackson winced, his heart ratcheting up in speed. It was true, he'd been avoiding Price like the plague. Why? Because the man was terrifying.

"Now," Price leaned back in his seat, picking up a file from the table and opening it, "Why don't we get started."

Jackson squinted at the man, his eyes barely able to make out the words written on that Manila folder, "Is that my file?"

"Yes," Price didn't look up, "I wanted to see exactly who you are. Your records seem good." Jackson shifted in his seat, growing more uncomfortable by the second, "The only issue I can see in your past is that it seems you've already held a relationship with one of my Sergeants." Price dropped the folder to the table, "Why did your relationship with Sergeant Sanderson end?"

Jackson leaned forward quickly, "Sir you should know that Roach and I-"

Price cut him off with a raised hand, "I don't care. What I care about, is that you're dating my Sergeant." Jackson swallowed hard, shrinking into his seat at the piercing glare that Price sent his way. "Sergeant Garrick is an adult, he can decide who he dates. However, this is my base and he is my Sergeant. So we're going to establish some ground rules, alright?"

"Sir-"

"It isn't your turn to speak, Sergeant Jackson." Jackson snapped his mouth closed, nodding rapidly as he shrunk into his seat. "Good. Here are the rules. You can do whatever you want when you are off base with Gaz, but in this base there is to be no groping, grabbing, or extensive kissing. Pecks on the cheek or mouth and hand holding is the extent of what I want to see. Nod if you understand."

Jackson nodded rapidly, trying to keep his breathing steady as Price continued to give him a harsh glare. "Good, I'm glad you seem to follow instructions. Both on and off base I expect to see you treating my Sergeant how he deserves to be treated. I expect him to feel like the center of your universe. Nod." Jackson nodded. "If I see tears or hear cries, they should not be because of you. Nod." Jackson did as he was told.

Price tilted forward then, his hands slipping against the pile of papers in front of him as he stood from the table, "If I find out that any of these rules have been broken. If I find out that my Sergeant has been hurt in any way," in a flash he pulled a knife from the stack of papers, twirling it in his fingers, "It will not be pleasant for you. Nod." Jackson pushed himself as far back into his chair as he could, nodding his head rapidly as he watched Price twirl the knife in his hands. "Now then, it's your turn to speak." Jackson opened his mouth, but he was cut off, "You get three words and two of them should be "I agree." For your own sake."

"But-"

"Thats one word. Two more Sergeant."

Jackson stared at him with wide eyes before giving a hesitant nod, "I agree."

"Very good," Price stabbed the knife into the table before plopping back down into his seat with a more genuine grin. "You're free to go now Sergeant. I look forward to getting to know you better over the course of your relationship with Gaz." Jackson blinked at him, watching frozen for several moments as the man picked up one of the several pieces of paper in front of him and started looking it over. After a moment, Price looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "Leave."

The words sent Jackson scrambling from his seat and rushing out of the room, trying hard not to let his heat beat out of his chest as he collapsed against the wall outside of the conference room. He stood there for several moments, trying to work out in his mind if what just happened was real or not.

"Paul?" Jackson turned, his wide eyes meeting the adorably confused eyes of Gaz. "What are you doing here?"

Jackson took a deep breath before giving him a small smile, "I came to see you! Maybe take you to lunch? Got a little lost though."

"Oh!" A smile lit up Gaz's face. He came forward several steps to press a kiss to Jackson's cheek, "That sounds amazing. Let me just drop these papers off to Price, then we can go, yeah?"

Jackson nodded, trying not to show too much fear on his face as Gaz opened the door to the conference room and practically bounded over to Price, "Got those papers for you Captain. Gonna take a bit of a break, Jackson's here. He's taking me to lunch."

"Oh," Price turned to watch him in the doorway, a smile on his face, "How nice. You two have fun."

"We will!" Gaz responded with a grin. He started toward Jackson, his back turned from Price. This meant that he missed the way that Price lifted his finger and ran it across his neck, mimicking slashing a throat. Meant for Jackson's eyes only. "Babe?" Gaz asked curiously, "You're a little pale, everything okay?"

"Yup," Jackson responded, his voice high as he brought his attention from Price to Gaz, "perfectly fine. Just a little hungry."

"Well," Gaz wrapped his arm in his and started pulling him from the room, "lets go then, I'm starving!"

Jackson let himself be pulled along by his boyfriend, his mind flooded with continued fear as Price's threats rang in his mind. He let out a shakey breath as he and Gaz stepped from the building. He didn't know a lot, but there was one thing he did:

Captain John Price was one terrifying man.

#you asked luke #captain price #captain john price #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #paul jackson #gaz x jackson #gaz/jackson #something in the orange

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descientia · 6 years ago

Note

☄️: A headcanon of mine that totally contradicts canon — 🌙: A headcanon about one of my rarepairs — 🌩: A headcanon that contradicts popular fandom tropes

headcanon meme // still accepting

☄️: A headcanon of mine that totally contradicts canon

I generally try to stay pretty canon-compliant, but I think canon says or implies that Ignis’s uncle and probably the rest of his house serve Regis in the same role that Ignis serves Noctis, and overwriting that is probably my “main” headcanon on this blog, possibly even veering on canon-divergence, but I hesitate to call it so because it’s such a minor thing?

I’ve written about it in depth a few times, most notably here and here, but for the sake of summarizing some very long writings: Ignis was selected for the role amongst a pool of suitable noble children, and it was an offer made to him that he could have turned down. He accepted, and this is a point of great pride and honor for his family, who had not been doing very many notable things in recent generations.

It’s also very important to me because I find his sacrifices and his devotion to be more meaningful if it was something that he willingly chose to do ( even if he chose it as a 6-year-old, of questionable agency, he also reaffirmed those decisions more formally at 15 when he swore his official oaths to the Crownsguard ) rather than something that was just always pre-ordained for him.

It’s also come to my attention that Ignis may say some things in the latter half of the game that don’t really gel with Episode Ignis ( I’m still working on my second playthrough ) and I chalk that up to sloppy writing and pretend he didn’t say those things.

🌙: A headcanon about one of my rarepairs

*sweats bullets because big brother Gladio* IIIiiii think it would be rly cute if Iris grew up considerably and ended up with Ignis, because then their families would be joined?? We could be brothers-in-law Gladio— p-please put that sword down oh my god.

All right, but in all seriousness: a. such a situation would definitely have to be many years in the future and involve some major interim character development on Iris’s part, because that age difference is creepy and she acts childish enough even as a 15-year-old. I like to think she’d be a lot more mature by 25, having essentially come of age in the apocalypse where she’s fighting for her life most days, but this is a difficult thing to discuss in an RP context because people have their different interpretations of characters and all ( and I don’t even RP with any Irises ), and this will probably forever remain an interesting headcanon idea that I toss around in my own brain alone due to lack of a suitable Iris.

b. Think of all the interesting situations this would put Ignis and Gladio in though?? What do you mean you want to date my sister, she’s only a kid. Gladio, she’s 22. You’re 29, you’ve known her since she was 5. What do you mean you want to marry my sister?? I mean, hell, I’d be down for RPing that anyway, who even needs the other half of a ship to RP a ship. If you ever want to RP an awkward “my best friend is trying to romance my little sister” ship please hmu because frankly the Ignis/Gladio dynamics there would probably be more interesting than the Ignis/Iris dynamics anyway!

🌩: A headcanon that contradicts popular fandom tropes

Oh boy, I uh, actually don’t read a whole lot of Iggy stuff written by other people so I’m not that savvy on the tropes? And I don’t want to call anyone out, either. I support everyone’s right to portray a character as they like even if I specifically avoid doing that thing. ( In fact, I think that sort of portrayal diversity is great, because it sets doubles apart even more. ) Also, I probably just play into all the most popular Ignis tropes anyway; it’s not like they’re my muse’s defining traits, but I’m not above playing up the whole Ignis has discovered a new recipeh, Ignis wants Noctis to eat his vegetables, Ignis can’t get enough Ebony, Ignis is the group mom, har har har. I dig comedic relief, and if someone’s a new partner and/or they just want to dip their toes with light fare and low hanging fruit, I’m not going to be like, “NO, you must write something that delves into the 256 onion layers I have carefully imbued into my muse because he is very speshul!!1”

That said, I don’t know if this is a trope per se but I suppose the most drastic difference that I see in the way that Ignis is commonly written that I have headcanons against is promiscuity and general romantic prowess. I see where it comes from, because he’s pretty suave and seems comfortable in his own skin so it stands to reason that he might have a few successful romantic conquests under his belt. But my Iggy actually has zero to nil ( mostly nil ) romantic or sexual experience as of the road trip, and while his sharp wit can make him capable of flirting with the best, he honestly wouldn’t know what to do with a lover ( beyond what he’s read, and oh yes, he’s read ) or what his own bedroom interests might be. And this isn’t because I find it cute to play a blushing virgin or anything ( I don’t even think he’d be prone to blushing in any case ) but just that with the way I write Iggy, I can’t see him ever having taken the time or the attention away from Noctis and his “royal duties” to him. ( Spoiler: it’s mostly because he’s been harboring a hopeless flame for Noct. )

And fwiw, 22 is not a terribly uncommon age to still lack sexual experience, and I think that gets overlooked way too much in fiction and pop culture! So yeah, I do enjoy writing my super nerd who still doesn’t quite realize he got hot as a virgin who doesn’t blush and fall all over himself at the mere mention of sex. Which isn’t specifically a fandom trope, but an RP/fic/anime trope in general.

#aegisregalis #— ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴜɴsᴀɪᴅ ( answered. )#— ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ’s sᴇᴀᴛ ( ooc. )#— ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋᴇɴs ( minicanons. )#— ( *squints hard at the questions you've sent in*#long post

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years ago

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Stranger Things Demon AU, Urgent

"What was up with that guy at the mall?" Steve finally asked Eddie as they arrived back at the trailer park. "That dude was a total asshole."

"Pffft, you're telling me." Eddie agreed as he got out of the minivan following Steve. "That was Jason Carver. King of Hawkins High and grade A douchebag. He's had it out for me since I started painting my fingernails black. Him and everyone else in this shit hole town."

"Huh, with your winning personality, I thought you'd be a lot more popular." Steve snarked as he followed Eddie back into the trailer.

"When you live in a place like Hawkins, everyone assumes that just because you like heavy metal music and Dungeons and Dragons, you have to automatically be a Satan worshipper."

"To be fair to them, you *did* summon me."

"I only did that because of this stupid book I found." Eddie replied. "Didn't think that shit was even real."

Steve wanted to reply but the phone on the wall next to him began to ring. Eddie walked past the demon and picked up.

"Munson residence, this is Eddie. What the fuck do you want?"

"Eddie!" An excited younger voice cut through the receiver. "Holy shit, I've been trying to call you all day."

"Hey, sorry I just got home." Steve hovered over his shoulder as he spoke. "What's up?"

"What's up? You said you were going to summon a demon with the book we found and then we didn't hear from you. We thought you like died or something."

"I'm fine Dustin. Well, mostly." The highschooler said as he glanced over at Steve.

"So did it work? Did you actually summon a demon?"

"....about that." Eddie stared at Steve, thinking for a moment before continuing. "I kind of have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"It's hard to explain. Meet me in the park by my house. I'll show you."

"Bring the book too, my mom will kill me if she realizes I took it."

Eddie hung up, turning and coming practically nose to nose with Steve.

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie jumped back. "You ever hear of this thing called personal space?"

"Who was that?" Steve completely ignored Eddie's question.

"Ugh, this kid from school. He's in this club I run." Eddie walked over to the table where he'd laid down the book from the night before and picked it up. "Gave me this. It's how I summoned you." The book was old, leather bound and falling apart at the seams. Steve snatched it from his hands. "Hey!"

"Where'd you get this?" Steve snapped at him.

"I just told you-this kid from school's mom. Why do you care?" Steve's eyes scanning the pages at Eddie grabbed at the book. Gripping part of it in his hands and trying to tug it away but the demon had a surprisingly strong grip. Okay maybe not so surprising considering he cold cocked Jason Carver, but still. The two fighting over the tome in a tug of war when there was a loud rip. The book tearing in half as both boys were sent flying to the floor.

"Ow...." Steve groaned loudly. Looking down to see he'd landed on Eddie, elbows first.

"Fuck dude, get your fat ass off me." Eddie pushed the demon off. Struggling for a moment to sit up.

"I'm not fat." The demon frowned. Eddie looked around the floor and let out a muttered curse as he began to gather up the pages.

"Great. Now you broke the book."

"Me? You tried taking it out of my hands."

"Because you stole it!" Eddie snapped back angrily. "Dustin's going to chew my ass out for this."

"It was an accident. I'm sure he'll get it."

"What the fuck did you do?"

As Eddie predicted, Dustin very much did not understand as he pushed the remnants of the book across the picnic table to the younger boy.

"You can thank that dingus over there," Eddie jerked his thumb over his shoulder to point at Steve moping by the tree line. Dustin followed his finger and squinted as he looked the guy over.

"Who the hell is he?"

"A demon. Apparently." Eddie watched Dustin's eyes widen.

"You've gotta be shitting me, seriously?"

"I wish."

"Why does he...look like that?" Dustin gestured to the guy's clothes. "I thought he'd be more intimidating-wait why's he still here?"

"Because I didn't make a deal." Eddie grimaced as he looked over the destroyed book. "I don't want to sell my soul, I didn't think this would even work! And now he says I'm stuck with him until I make a deal...or I die."

"Shit man."

"Yeah. I was hoping you could find a way to fix this in the book but now it's all out of order and I can't read half of it cause it's in Latin. "

"Might take some scrap booking and translation but we can figure something out. I think Max could translate some of this. She spent a whole summer at some weird Catholic camp. Until then I guess you're stuck with him."

The two turned back to see the demon as he swatted himself in the face in an attempt to smack away a bug.

"You sure he's a demon?"

"Yeah. He's got wings and everything. His name's Steve."

"A demon, named Steve?" Dustin laughed. "That's like the least scary name I can think of. Steve?!"

"Hey I can hear you!" Steve called out to the two, clearly offended by what they were saying.

"So what are you going to do Monday?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you just going to leave him at home? You have to go to school."

Eddie paused. He...actually hadn't thought about that.

"Probably. It's not like I have to be next to him all the time."

#fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #eddie x steve #demon au #dustin henderson

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graha-stan-account · 2 years ago

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FFXIV Write Day 5: Cutting Corners

I was doing a lot of recap reading of Heavensward and post-Heavensward plot and holy shit it's like a primal fruit salad.

Anyway, this takes place immediately following The Aery, in which it becomes clear guildmasters expound on the importance of strong foundations and safety for good reason. Namely, Napha discovers Teraflare.

Cut corners: 1. Verb. To do something in the easiest or least expensive way.

---

All-consuming night.

Silence.

Stillness.

"Make way!" The sound from without split the solitude like a rusted axe. Drowned voices hidden behind clotted shadow. Her consciousness as though borne on the wind itself, dream-like. "Lordling, you! Send word--" It was as though her head went under again, warm depths filling in her ears. Friend or foe, the voice could not harm her, a formless smear of aether, rendered invisible.

Sometime later, turbulence.

"More chirurgeons!" A clatter of feet, a familiar timbre in the distance uttering... something.

A flicker. The smallest mote of light. There and gone.

"Lord Commander!"

"By the Fury..."

Building warmth, light the color of the sun from behind closed eyes, the gentle ebb of.. life, like a calm shore.

Pain! Pain! Pain! Pain!

The air was fire, veins blown dry from inside and a sudden rush like a current of boiling water.

A sound in her head. Someone was screaming.

A voice she only half-recognized: "Aid me! Hold her down!"

Silence again, the screams cut short.

J'napha's eyes fluttered open a moment, and the sound came too in a rush; the overly loud snapping of kindling in a hearth. Low chatter somewhere far off. Pain blossomed across her chest at the slightest of movement, so she focused instead on getting her eyes properly open. The room was dark, save for an orange glow just out of sight.

"Fancied a bit of a nap there, old girl?" It was Emmanellain Fortemps, suddenly in view. He ducked around to position himself squarely in her sight and proffered a smile, the kind a child might make while fussing over a baby chick. "I trust you find the accommodations satisfactory. Ah- I do hope you've suffered no bruises - two or three of the house guard had to hold you down for a moment!" He chuckled, a clearly practiced reaction. "But that is the way of the knight I suppose! When we feel we are needed, naught can keep us from getting to our feet."

Napha's eyes made circles as the incorrigible youth blathered on before he found the thread again.

"Don't go anywhere! Ah, I suppose you won't be running off for a while. Pray don't move a muscle. I must tell Father and the others!" He disappeared then, the clacking of his heels trailing him down the corridor.

Others? Napha returned her gaze to the ceiling. She imagined she had been confined to this bed for some time, but at the risk of splitting open any sutures, she remained still. She sniffled and instantly came a bolt of lightning across her face and eyes. Had she been knocked out? By whom? The Enterprise... could she have fallen?

She closed her eyes for but a moment. When she opened them again, there were no less than a dozen faces in her view.

Napha's first words were a choked mess. She made great effort to clear her throat. In a hoarse voice, she tried once more: "What happened?"

The room buzzed, the brood of Fortemps exchanged looks, Alphinaud himself appeared alarmed.

"The Enterprise crew..." Cid, Biggs, Wedge and whoever else might have had the misfortune of remaining on board, "are they alright?"

"Even now she's worried about everyone else!" Tataru was there, too? Her voice was overtaken by sobs.

Napha inhaled as deeply as she could - which wasn't much. She winced, and when again she opened her eyes, a white haired man was at her side.

"I sent them away." Napha squinted. This face she didn't recognize. "Must be hard enough to breathe without all the on-lookers agape stealing all the air."

"Estinien?"

He looked down at her, his face showing he thought it an odd question.

"What happened?"

"I was hoping you might say so." He sat down then, in a chair that must have been placed at the bedside. "Nidhogg has been felled, in case you were wondering. In no small part due to whatever that was you did back there."

"You mean, I didn't... fall?"

"Oh you took a spill like a man soaked through in his drink. Right on your face." He pantomimed the movement with his hands. It looked... painful. "Not the fall that nearly killed you, though."

Napha fought to remember. Nidhogg, the eye, Estinien needed more time. Not enough time. Lesser dragons were advancing, covering the great wyrm as he steeled himself to destroy the trespassers. But Napha had been pacing herself, not expending more aether than she ought to in commanding her egis. Some might have called her a prodigy for how quickly she mastered summoning the arcane constructs. Not the Arcanist's Guild, though.

"I didn't have another choice," she said. Thubyrgeim saw right through to Napha's rote memorization of arcanima, her work-around of gorging an egi with aether to strengthen and entice it to obey. She agreed it would catch up and bite her, but the thought was less frightening than Garleans, primals and vengeful wyrms combined. "It was something I had never tried. I didn't know... if it would work."

"It certainly looked unrehearsed. I manifested the shield just in time. Comets seemed to fall from the sky. Blinding fire, as though plumes from the mouth of a wyrm. No work of a dragon, though. You yourself unfurled wings of aether as the hell rained down. Never saw such a thing. And then you fell flat on your face. Never saw a thing like that, either."

It had worked.

Unlike, Thubyrgeim, Y'mhitra was less likely to ask questions. That also meant she didn't have any suggestions when Napha failed to harness what remained of Bahamut. She had been trying to enter that so-called trance, and, failing that, tried to conjure whatever she could of the beast itself. The one that killed her brother and so, so many more.

"The chirurgeons said a drop less aether and you would have died."

"I..." Napha's vision went murky, her eyes flooded with tears which would not spill. "I did it."

"I'm sorry," Estinien leaned forward, irritated. "Are you gladdened or saddened by that news?"

Napha sniffled. "Yes."

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #heavensward #estinien varlineau #emmanellain fortemps #for like 1 second #lmao #ffxiv summoner #so like hc is Napha does bad summoning which is like bad conjury except there was never any option to source aether from somewhere else

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theconstantsidekick · 3 years ago

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Captain America: The Winter Soldier ft. Static (4) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (sibling)

Genre: Fluff and a pinch of angst if you squint

Summary: As Steve drives to the location where the info on the flash drive originated—his old army base—he gets to know the two women he has decided to become fugitives with.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing? Lesser than usual though.

a/n: read Age of Ultron (ft. Static) to get a better backstory. Highly recommended. But it’s fun. I promise.

sidenote: I am weirdly fond of this one.

“Where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?” Natasha asks from the passenger seat next to him.

“Nazi Germany,” Steve replies, adjusting himself in his seat. Natasha hums at his answer dismissively, so he adds, “And we're borrowing.” He looks at her feet. “Take your feet off the dash.”

Natasha obediently takes them off, but the smile on her face indicates she feels anything but. “How did you get out of there?” She asks.

She had met up with the pair, after striking out on her lead. Now here they were, in a 'borrowed' car.

Steve brows furrow, confused.

“There was a homing beacon on the flash drive, so S.H.I.E.L.D. must have sent reinforcement, but I didn’t hear anything about a fight at some mall,” she clarifies. She looks at him then. “So, how did you two get out?”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel a little harder. “We...” Oh lord, “improvised.”

Natasha isn’t satisfied with the answer. She stares at him unrelentingly.

But two can play at this game. He can do this all day.

Well, he could have if she hadn’t pulled out the big guns.

“Either you can tell me, or I can ask her,” Natasha threatens with a teasing smile.

Why the hell does he get stuck in places like this?

“Fine!” He gives in. “We—” he exhales heavily, “—kissed… as a distraction.” His voice is low and almost muffled. It’s awkward, alright? He’s not really good at these things to begin with. So. Yeah. Awkward.

Natasha, though, keeps the smile up and nods easily, pretending that it’s the most normal thing in the world. But the glint in her eyes tells Steve he’s in for trouble.

“Alright, I have a question for you,” she says eventually, and hell, if Steve didn’t see that coming. “Oh, which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don't answer it though, you're kind of answering it, you know?” She asks hypothetically, rambling on.

“What?” Steve asks, glancing at her once. Better to get this over with.

“Was it your first kiss since 1945?” She asks, coyly.

Steve hates it here.

“You’re asking if I was bad at it?” He asks, annoyed.

“I didn't say that,” Natasha defends.

“Well, it kind of sounds like that's what you're saying.”

“No, I didn't. I just wondered how much practice you've had. Cause she’s had plenty.”

What do you mean, she’s had plenty?

And why does that make his jaw clench?

“You don't need practice,” he argues.

“Everybody needs practice,” Natasha replies.

“It was not my first kiss since 1945,” Steve acquiescence. “I'm ninety-five, I'm not dead.”

“Nobody special, though?” She asks.

Steve's eyes automatically flick over to the rearview mirror, glancing at the back seat. But then he looks away. He scoffs as he says, “Believe it or not, it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience.”

And then there is a loud cackle from where his eyes were fixed only a few seconds ago. It’s Y/n, chuckling loudly from where she is lying in the backseat, with her feet hung on the edge of the slightly ajar window and her back resting on the other one.

Steve can’t see her laugh cause she has her face covered with his cap but it sounds too sweet regardless. Her hands are tucked behind her head, supporting her neck and to Steve, she genuinely looks far more unbothered than anyone should be, while being in the situation they are in. She looks just as cocky and unbothered as she had when she came to recruit him. She looks inert and cosmic. She reminds him of Peggy.

“What’s so funny?” Natasha asks, pulling Steve out of his thoughts.

“You wouldn’t get it,” Y/n dismisses.

“How long have you been awake?” Steve asks, eyes flicking back and forth from the road ahead back to the rearview mirror.

His question is code for, how much of that did you hear, and she reads between the lines fairly easily.

Because she chuckles again as she says, “Long enough to let you know, you weren’t half bad, Captain.”

Steve can spot Natasha wearing a weirdly smug smile. But he’s got more concerning issues to deal with. “But it wasn’t great…?” His words fall somewhere between a question and a statement.

Y/n clicks her tongue, “You know, I don’t think I remember it all that well, what with Rumlow being on our ass,” she says evenly. Only for her tone to change as she adds, “Care to try again?” He can practically hear the smirk on her face, reflected in her words.

“God,” he grumbles. “Do you ever stop?”

Please don’t?

“No, she does not,” Natasha confirms, smiling. “You two should date.”

Excuse me?

Before he can do something like drive the car off the road in a state of pure bewilderment, a snort sounds out from behind them.

“God no,” Y/n says.

And sure, yeah. That doesn’t upset Steve at all. Why should it? He’s fine. Absolutely fine.

“Ouch,” Steve mutters.

“Why not?” Natasha asks, turning in her seat to get a better look at Y/n. Though Steve doesn’t understand what that would achieve, seeing as his cap is still covering her face.

There is a pause. It shouldn’t be as heavy as it, for as brief as it. But Steve has a hard time carrying the burden of it. And he can deadlift over 6000 pounds.

But eventually—

“Same reason you don’t trust me,” Y/n states solemnly, her tone nowhere near the usual jovial one he’s become used to. “I’ve had… an interesting life. It’s corpulent, I suppose. Filled with history that I don’t feel mighty open to sharing right now… or ever.” The indication of the fact that she is unwilling to share her history in the present company hangs heavier than the silence had before. Steve might seem pretty clean but Natasha’s history is infamously not clean at all. So whatever Y/n wishes not to share— “Besides,” her tone back to being lighthearted. The sudden change almost gives Steve whiplash. “I’m not his type.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“My type?” Steve asks, face scrunching up.

“You know? Smart, intelligent, fierce women who could kick your ass in a fight,” Y/n explains.

Natasha snorts. “And you don’t qualify because...?”

“Don’t have the accent for it,” Y/n retorts.

Both women chuckle and Steve can’t help the smile that blooms on his face.

“But I’m with Natasha on this one,” Y/n chimes in once the smiles subside. As Natasha cocks her brow, Steve has to check back in the rearview mirror to see if the cap is still covering her face because her answer to Natasha’s brow is instantaneous. “Not that we should date, but that you should date.”

“Like I said,” Steve sighs. “Hard to find common ground.”

“That’s alright, you just make something up,” Natasha suggests.

“What, like you?” Steve asks, looking at her.

“I don't know... The truth is a matter of circumstance, it's not all things to all people all the time,” she replies. A melancholy smile graces her face as she adds, “And neither am I.”

“That's a tough way to live,” Steve states.

“It's a good way not to die, though,” Natasha justifies.

“You know, it's kind of hard to trust someone when you don't know who that someone really is.” Steve isn’t trying to be malicious. He’s not trying to antagonize her. He’s definitely not trying to insult her. He just needs her to understand, if she were ever to take it, his hand is extended.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees. “Who do you want me to be?”

Steve looks at her then, “How about a friend?”

Natasha’s face breaks into a smile, mirth mixed in with fondness. ”Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.”

“I’d like to disagree,” Y/n chimes in from behind them. “I think he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

Natasha huffs, “He’s an open book, Stark. Those don’t really last that long in our line of work.”

“I think you’re forgetting that he’s the oldest one in the car,” Y/n throws back with a grin audible in her tone.

“You know what I mean,” Natasha says exasperated.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Y/n placates her with a small chuckle. “But that isn’t the point.” She still hasn’t moved. “The point is, this world might be far different from the one he had but it’s still his. The fundamentals remain the same… and so does he. Unchanging, unmoving righteousness. And as misplaced as it might be from time to time—” Steve grumbles under his breath to make sure his disagreement is noted. But she barrels on paying him no mind, “—we need it. You and I have a habit of looking at life and only seeing the dirty bits. We’re gloomy—”

“Realistic,” Natasha interrupts. “I’m realistic. Optimism gets you killed.”

“Exactly what I mean,” Y/n urges, her tone more imploring. “We have no patience for optimism because we have lost hope somewhere along the line. But he—he hasn’t. Where we see reckoning, he sees potential. Where you fight to survive, he fights for what he believes is right.”

“And you?” Steve asks, cutting in. “What do you fight for?”

“Tony.” Her reply is instantaneous. “I fight so he can be safe. I fight so someday he doesn’t have to anymore. The fact that the rest of the world gets saved in the process is just… collateral damage.”

There’s something brewing inside Steve he can’t quite name. He doesn’t know if it’s the unwavering resolve in her answer or if it’s the ferocity of her faith in him that he didn’t even know she had to begin with. Or maybe, Steve ventures, it might just be the combination of both because whatever is brewing inside him is burning, igniting. Whatever is brewing inside him, has only been lit aflame but he already knows it won’t extinguish anytime soon. He also knows that he might be inclined to disregard her lack of accent if ever the chance arises.

“Not a righteous bone in our body, is there?” Natasha chimes in, grinning.

“Not a single one.” She finally sits up. Setting her feet down, she takes the cap off her face. Her eyes meet his in the rearview mirror and Steve can see the smirk on her face as she says, “That’s why we’ve got the Captain.”

Read the next part here. Find other static verse works here. Find her origin story here.

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