#( but if you'd like something else just let me know! )

[lyricwritesprose]

At first, I really did think it was just because Landon had been struck by lightning. That was where I found him, you see—in the middle of Bryley's Woods, in a clearing, where it sure looked like lightning had struck and set things on fire. I am still not sure why he called me for help, considering that I have all the reasons in the world to tell him where to get off—except I'm increasingly thinking it might be because my name is Aashvonne (blame my Mom) and that puts me at the very top of his contact list.

The thing is, Landon was not a good guy. And I'm not just talking about all the things he put me through, I'm talking about everyone. Pretty much everyone knew that if you loaned Landon money you'd never see it again, that if he gave his word on something he'd have gone back on it by sundown and accuse you of lying about it, and the less said about his string of relationships the better. But the few anecdotes I've heard about being struck by lightning, there are sometimes personality changes or at least a renewed perspective on life, so I wasn't that surprised to find him unusually quiet rather than raucous and overly friendly. I tried to talk him into going to a doctor, but I wasn't going to try to wrestle with him about it.

We live in the same apartment complex, though, so Landon was there when we dug the stray kitten out of the dumpster—in fact, he did a lot of the digging, which shocked the hell out of me. Landon, willingly making himself dirty when someone else could be bothered into doing the work for him? We brought the poor little thing into Landon's apartment (which was astonishingly clean considering that he was between girlfriends) and drew a bath. The kitten let out a long drawn out wail.

Landon startled me by making the exact same sound back at him.

I have to admit, I jumped slightly. People meow back at cats, but they usually don't meow like cats. Not to that extent. "I think that means he's unhappy," Landon added.

"He's covered in shit," I said, "literally. Here, I think I've got the water right, hand him over." I looked at the kitten. "Also I think he may be a she. Ginger and white, that's a female pattern, isn't it?"

"You're the expert on cats, Vonnie," Landon said. The kitten made another protest as I put her into the warm water and tried a gentle scrub. Landon repeated that one, too, with just as uncanny a degree of mimicry. "Sorry, I'll stop. I don't think there's a huge amount of meaning in it anyway. Just, 'unhappy, unhappy, knock it off.'"

"You are going to be much happier if you're clean, dingus," I told the kitten. She was deeply unimpressed.

After that—and after Landon, who had always said he disliked cats, adopted Her Ladyship Dingus Creamsicle Loudly Von Dumpster, I started paying a little more attention.

Landon had a magnificent ability to make it through a conversation with someone without much information on where he knew them from, or indeed, in many cases, their name. I probably wouldn't have noticed except that I'm so bad with names and faces that I had to pick up a few tricks. He was using them all.

He was also using, I don't know, slightly lawyerly language. He'd hedge his bets rather than outright promising something. Which, on the bright side, meant less extravagant promises, so it wasn't a bad thing, just—different.

And he wasn't going out at night. Like. Virtually at all. From a guy who used to be all about clubs and parties, that was actually a pretty big change.

There had been a few strange things happening around town, for sure—the weirdest, and also closest to the apartments, being a couple of cops being chased away by "ball lightning" when they had been threatening a Deaf Black kid for not immediately complying—but I had no reason to connect any of that stuff to Landon. Until I came down with flu. (And yes, I got the shot, but that happened to a lot of people last winter; sometimes an unexpected strain wins, for whatever reason.) Sick as a dog, fragile-feeling as a horse—Landon was the last person I would have asked for help before, but then, he was a bit different now.

And he was lovely to me. Fed me soup, brought me my toothbrush at my bedside, all sorts of caretaking stuff. I wasn't even thinking of the changes in him until I was ready to go to sleep that night, and he said, "Good night, Vonnie," and turned off the light—

And I saw that his eyes were glowing emerald green. Not like a cat's eyes. Could have sworn these were lit up from within.

There was a frozen moment. I think we were both wondering what he would do to preserve the secret. Personally, I was also thinking about the ball lightning those cops encountered. They'd said it was green, not green-tinted, but a deep, saturated color. Like this.

"Is." I swallowed. "Is there anything else you want me to call you? You know. Like a nickname."

"It's just Landon." Landon sounded a bit unsteady, as if I'd scared the shit out of him too, by seeing.

"Okay. I'm cool with that."

"There—wasn't much left of the old Landon. When I got there. But he did want to do better, to be better—to have a second chance, I guess. Which is why…" He trailed off. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to figure that out myself," I said. Fuck of an emotional brick to hit someone with, but I suppose it was emotional bricks all the way down. "Landon? Thanks for coming over. With the soup."

I couldn't quite tell from the light in the hallway, or the glow from his eyes, but I think he smiled and relaxed a little bit. "Anytime I can."

Your “friend” has been replaced by a doppelgänger. You aren’t sure where it came from or what it is under the disguise. But you know one thing; you prefer it over the original.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[meadowfics]

no mercy

yandere!cho sang-woo x f!reader

one of the players grows obsessed with you since you were similar to him

warnings: yandere!sangwoo, reader/you have questionable morals since you commit a huge betrayal due to a strong sense of survival. mentions of death. age gap relationship, since reader is intended to be between 20-23 while sang woo is 46. changed plot from season one. the original character who is not reader is player 102.

you never thought you'd end up here.

your eyes tired, wearing a green tracksuit, number 111 stitched onto your chest like a mark of your desperation.

the scent in the room was thick with fear, tension, and unspoken threats.

everyone here had something in common: debt, misery, nothing much left to lose.

you? your debt wasn’t from reckless gambling or bad business deals like most of these other people here.

yours was from surviving.

years of hospital stays, surgeries, medications.

your childhood was spent in the hospitals, making sure that your body could grow healthily.

there were bills that kept stacking up even after you were finally healthy.

they said you were lucky to have made it out alive, but now you owed more money than you could ever pay back.

so when the salesman offered you a chance, you took it.

you didn’t suffer through years of hospitals, pain, and fear just to come here and die in some twisted game.

you were going to survive. no matter what it took.

the first night in the dormitory, you kept to yourself.

somehow, she found you..

player 102.

hot pink hair, too bright for this place, too carefree for someone stuck in a death game.

"hey, you look miserable,"

she plopped down beside you, stretching her legs out.

you didn’t respond.

just kept your arms crossed, watching the others.

"so, we’re both young. everyone else here is nearly middle aged, I think we should stick together,"

she continued, ignoring your silence.

"not a fan of getting stabbed in my sleep."

you eyed her for a moment before shrugging.

"fine."

you didn’t trust her, not yet.

she was right...it was better to have someone.

however, there was another player keeping a lookout on you.

player 218. sang-woo.

the man who kept his expression unreadable but watched everything.

at first, you didn’t notice him.

however, he noticed you. immediately.

you weren’t like the others.

you weren’t crying, begging, or making desperate alliances.

you were calculating. quiet. smart.

and he liked that.

before the second game is when you knew that 218 existed.

you overheard player 067 whispering to 218, the words

"melting sugar" slipping through the cracks.

your brain clicked instantly.

dalgona.

so when the masked men led you into a room filled with symbols

circle, star, umbrella, triangle.

you didn’t hesitate.

you immediately walked toward the triangle line, yanking 102 with you.

"what the hell? why so confident?"

she asked, letting you drag her along.

"just trust me."

sang-woo saw you move first.

his lips twitched.

you knew.

not a second of hesitation.

not a moment of doubt.

you had figured it out just like him.

he almost smirked when he saw you pull your ally along without question.

good girl, he thought.

you know how to survive.

he didn’t take his eyes off you as you worked on your honeycomb.

you handled the needle too well.

precise. careful. controlled.

when your triangle popped out perfectly, you even gave 102 a little smirk.

"told you,"

you murmured to her.

sang-woo clenched his jaw, barely paying attention to his own work.

you were dangerous.

smart.

capable.

and he wanted you.

he watched the way your fingers moved, steady despite the sweat on your skin.

the way your lashes lowered when you focused.

the way your lips parted slightly as you concentrated.

you had no idea he was studying you like prey.

"don’t worry, y/n," he thought.

"i’ll protect you."

"i’ll make sure you survive. you don’t even need to know."

because in sang-woo’s mind, you were already his.

back in the dorms, you and 102, who turns out to be named anya, sat on a shared bed, splitting the bland, dry rice and kimchi they gave you.

it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep you alive.

"so, what brought you here?"

you asked, poking at your food with the tiny spoon they handed out.

anya stretched her legs out, sighing dramatically.

"oh, you know. influencers, shopping sprees, lavish trips. that kind of stupidity."

you raised an eyebrow.

"influencer?"

she scoffed.

"was. past tense. brand deals, sponsorships, all that shit. i thought i was rich when i really wasn’t. I got "cancelled" for some stupid shit and now I am here!"

she rambled for nearly thirty minutes, talking about her reckless spending, the money she blew through, the fake friends who ditched her when she went broke.

you let her talk, not minding the conversation.

she was easy to listen to, and at least she had a sense of humor about her downfall.

she turned the question on you.

"what about you, y/n?"

you took a small bite of rice, hesitating for a second before answering.

"hospital bills."

anya paused mid-chew, glancing at you. then, she nodded.

"ohhh okay."

something inside you twisted. maybe you should have kept that to yourself.

maybe that was something she didn’t need to know.

did she see it as a weakness?

did she think you were fragile?

you didn’t know her true intentions yet.

from across the room, sang-woo was wondering the same thing.

he leaned against the metal bunk, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he studied you and anya.

he didn’t trust her, not when she was getting that close to you.

she seemed harmless, but so did a lot of people before they revealed their true colors.

the girl had bright pink hair.

she didn’t exactly scream dangerous.

still, he didn’t like how easily you opened up to her.

as gi-hun talked to play 001 beside him, he looked ahead at you.

anya was the first to notice him watching.

she smirked, leaning in slightly.

"don’t freak out, but that player has been staring you down since we got back from dalgona."

you frowned, confused.

"who?"

anya subtly tilted her head toward player 218.

you followed her gaze and met his eyes.

sang-woo was staring right at you.

the first thing that crossed your mind?

he's sexy.

it wasn’t just that.

he wasn’t like other people who got caught staring and looked away quickly.

he held eye contact, unbothered, as if he was waiting to see what you would do.

only when player 456 called his name did he finally turn away.

anya snorted.

"oh no. you’ve got that look in your eye."

you blinked.

"what look?"

"the ‘i think he’s hot’ look."

she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"don’t fall for it, y/n. he might stab you in your sleep."

you giggled, nudging her.

"shut up!"

even as you joked, you could still feel the heat in your face.

from across the room, sang-woo nearly smirked.

he had seen the way you looked at him.

he was going to make sure you kept looking at him.

when it was lights out, you lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the slow, steady breaths of the other players.

the dorm was eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustle of someone shifting in their sleep.

beside you, anya was curled up, her pink hair spilling over the pillow.

the girl's breathing was soft and even.

peaceful.

untouched by the paranoia that clawed at your mind.

you waited, making sure she was truly asleep before you carefully pushed yourself up from the bed.

this was stupid.

you knew it.

you didn’t care.

moving quickly and quietly, you weaved through the rows of bunk beds, walking across the open floor and walking through bunks until you reached the other side of the dormitory.

you knelt down in front of player 218’s bed.

sang-woo’s eyes were closed, but the moment you got close, you could feel it...he was awake.

sangwoo's breathing was too steady, his posture too tense, as if he had been expecting something.

his eyes flickered open.

and the second he saw you, he sat up.

"sorry if i woke you up,"

you whispered.

he stared at you, his face unreadable.

then, his lips twitched just slightly.

"no, you’re not."

you swallowed, caught off guard by how easily he read you.

"i just… i just wanted to talk to you."

"can’t sleep?"

his voice was low, smooth.

you shook your head.

he studied you for a second, then shifted, making space beside him.

without thinking, you scooted closer, sitting down next to him on the bed.

both of you sat in silence, eyes scanning the dark dormitory, watching the scattered bodies of sleeping players.

"what brings you here?"

he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

you hesitated, already regretting your answer before it even left your mouth.

"hospital bills."

as soon as you said it, you cringed.

you had made the same mistake again.

telling people things they didn’t need to know.

you had no idea what sang-woo’s intentions were, no idea what kind of person he really was.

when you glanced at him, there was nothing threatening in his expression.

he nodded, and his voice was calm when he said,

"debt."

you nodded in return. most people were here for that.

suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit you, making your body feel heavier.

you let out a soft yawn, rubbing your arm.

sang-woo noticed immediately.

"you should get some sleep,"

he said.

you sighed, not wanting to go back just yet.

"i don’t know if i can."

he thought for a moment, then said,

"i’ll walk you back."

you looked at him, surprised.

the idea of him walking with you made you feel… safe.

some kind of invisible shield was around you just by being near him.

you nodded, and together, you slipped back through the darkness.

when you reached your bed, you laid down beside anya, adjusting under the thin blanket.

sang-woo crouched beside you, his presence lingering.

you blinked up at him sleepily.

"you don’t have to stay."

but he did.

he stayed for another half hour, sitting silently by your bed, watching.

making sure no one tried anything stupid.

making sure no one touched his girl.

later on after the tug of war game, something inside you shifted.

the feeling of your body being pulled toward death, the sheer force it took to survive, the way you had to trust complete strangers just to stay alive

it made you realize something.

trust was temporary.

survival was everything.

you could feel some of your morals slipping, piece by piece.

it was only a matter of time before trust meant nothing.

anya didn’t seem to take the same lesson from it.

she was freaking out.

you noticed how she started muttering under her breath, shaking more often, picking at her nails until they bled.

she wasn’t built for this.

sang-woo? he was the opposite.

cold. calculating. calm.

you found yourself sticking closer to him, not entirely sure why, but knowing he was the safest option to be around.

when it was time for the glass bridge game, all hell broke loose.

you were in front of sang-woo, anya was in front of you, and some random man was in front of anya.

the tension was suffocating.

one by one, players were screaming, falling to their deaths, bodies smacking against the floor below like insects against a windshield.

the only ones left were 456, 067, sang-woo, you, anya, and the man at the front.

the man was trying to inspect the glass, claiming he could tell which one was weak, taking his sweet time.

the clock was running out.

three minutes left.

anya snapped, her voice sharp, full of panic.

"can you take any fucking longer?"

the man turned back, offended, but didn’t say anything.

two minutes, thirty seconds.

finally, he made his move.

he chose wrong.

the man's scream echoed, his body disappeared into the void below, glass shards flying.

"all of that for nothing,"

player 067 muttered.

you nodded, feeling your heart hammer against your ribs.

now, it was anya’s turn.

she froze.

the slavic's hands were shaking, her breath coming out in sharp, uneven gasps.

you tried to keep her calm.

"anya, it’s okay, you’ll pick the right one."

she didn’t move.

sang-woo suddenly stepped onto your glass tile.

your breath caught in your throat.

for a split second, you thought.. was he going to push me off?

no.

instead, he pressed himself right behind you, his body warm, solid, steady.

the man's big hand found your arm, gripping it gently, keeping you in place as you both watched anya.

"anya, come on!"

your patience was wearing thin.

anya sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting between the two tiles in front of her.

"i’m sorry, i’m trying to guess."

two minutes.

finally, she jumped.

the right one.

everyone let out a breath of relief as they followed onto the next safe glass ahead.

except sang-woo.

he stayed right behind you onto the next glass.

you smirked slightly at the way his body heat pressed into yours.

one row left.

you looked at anya.

"okay, you got it right last time, now do it again."

you hear player 456 from the far back yell.

she was trembling, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"i don’t—i don’t know."

one minute, thirty seconds.

"anya, pick one, goddammit!"

your voice cracked, frustration leaking through.

"i’m sorry,"

she whispered, eyes darting between the last two panels.

one minute.

something inside you snapped.

you couldn’t wait anymore.

sang-woo shifted slightly, sensing it.

you turned, moving him off your back slightly.

then, you did something terrible.

you jumped onto the same glass tile as anya.

the russian's breath hitched, her whole body going rigid as you stood right behind her.

"anya, i’m sorry. forgive me."

she barely had time to turn her head before you shoved her forward.

she hit the glass.

it shattered.

anya's scream pierced through the air, her arms flailing as she plunged onto the ground below.

the pink hair was the last thing you saw before she disappeared.

you didn’t even breathe before hopping onto the correct glass, your heart hammering against your ribs.

twenty seconds left.

everyone else followed...sang-woo, 067, 456.

all of you had survived.

when you turned back, searching for any sign of anya’s body, it was too far down.

you couldn’t process it before—

the entire bridge exploded.

glass shards flew in every direction, slicing through your skin like razor blades.

you shielded your face, feeling the sting of cuts across your body, blood trickling down your arms.

everything blurred.

you felt yourself stumble, someone’s hand grabbing your waist, holding you upright.

sang-woo.

his grip was firm, keeping you from falling.

when 456 and 067 walked ahead, sangwoo stayed beside you.

the man's lips were close to your ear, his breath steady while yours was ragged.

"you did what you had to do."

your hands were shaking.

anya was gone.

the girl who had slept beside you.

the girl who had joked with you.

you pushed her to her death.

the worst part?

you didn’t regret it.

by the end of the last game.. the dorms were empty now.

just you and sang-woo.

no more screams.

no more bloodstained floors.

no more players, just two survivors standing in the aftermath of hell.

you had won.

you both had.

the massive room that once held hundreds of people was now eerily silent.

the beds, the sheets, the steel walls.. it all looked the same, but it felt different.

everyone else was dead.

you turned, facing sang-woo.

the man's expression was unreadable, always was.

the man's eyes locked on you like he was memorizing this moment.

"so," you exhaled, voice hoarse.

"we made it."

he nodded.

"we did."

"and we split the money."

the words left your lips, but something about them felt off.

sang-woo agreed.

he had said it himself.

you would split the money, go your separate ways, start over.

the way he looked at you now...

you knew that was never his plan.

"right,"

sang-woo murmured, stepping closer.

"we split the money."

sangwoo's tone was smooth, but there was a finality to it.

you understood exactly what that meant.

he wasn’t letting you go.

he had killed for you.

067. 456. gone.

you weren’t stupid.

he and 456 had some sort of a connection, something deeper than just the games.

maybe they were friends? you had no clue since he did not tell you.

shoot, he did not even tell you 456 and 067's real names.

you had seen the way they looked at each other before it all came crashing down.

however, sang-woo chose you.

he had to.

there was no hesitation when he ended 456.

no second thoughts when 067 bled out.

he did it all for you.

the 45.6 billion wasn’t just his money.

it wasn’t even just your money.

it was yours together.

blood money. tainted, filthy, but yours.

"i hope you understand,"

sang-woo said, his fingers brushing against your wrist, his touch deceptively gentle.

"i didn’t do all of this just to watch you walk away."

sangwoo's grip tightened slightly, firm enough to send a clear message.

you were his.

the man's breath was warm as he leaned in, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"you're coming with me."

you didn’t argue.

you didn’t fight it.

deep down, you had already accepted it.

you didn’t mind at all.

masterlist

[revelboo]

Everytime I think about the pure unhingedness of the current situation megs is in is so unserious, like imagine making a rebellion against this dictator and going through all the hardships of this unseemigly long war only to end up pregnant? And it’s not even yours!?!!? Kinda - being forcibly pseudo surrgate turned reversed hostage husband married to this squishy small alien that you assumed was more pet but nooo turns out your soldiers have been fucking these things and now you carrying your second in command, who has been up to this point, trying to kill you, and now. NOW. YOU. ARE. ONCE AGAIN: Pregnant with his and the alien’s kid. Like you fucked yeah, but you are now forced into a polycule with alien and two of your best soldiers because of you trying to be nice, for once, and look what it did! The slight good thing is that it can maybe save your species but like miner megatron or gladitor megatron would’ve never expected to be anywhere near this absolute shitshow of drama that everything is alright megs is right in. Still accidental mpreg/baby mama/you are not the “father” megatron was never in my bingo card for ANY year. Speedrunning the entire series since i found it yesterday has been a something. Idk. Love it tho. Your writing is amazing, but im reeling because WHAT. Great work.

Yeah, poor guy is not having fun.

A little shy of 2000 followers, it’s at 1996 this morning, but I wanted to go ahead and post this extended chapter to cheer myself up after getting into it with the car dealership I got Soundwave from this morning because the window they just replaced is already leaking again. 18+ Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 132

IDW Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

Megatron doesn’t want this moment to end. Wants to just feel you drifting through him, to enjoy this intimacy. This feeling of belonging that he’s not had in so long. Or, if he’s honest with himself, ever. Even in the mines there had been companionship, brotherhood, but nothing like the feel of being so tangled in someone else that he can’t tell where you begin and he ends. Because right now he can pretend. Pretend you’re someone who loves him, that he loves you. That the fragile spark he’s cradling within himself is really his. It’s all a lie, though and he swore to never be deceived again. Not even by himself.

But he needs this so much. Knows you’re his now, as trapped as he is. Bound to each other by accident for life. Needs to believe that you might eventually love him. That this will get better, less broken over time. Hurt less.

Trembling as his servos wrap around your wrist and gently separate you from his spark, you make a soft sound of protest at the loss. For a moment, teetering on the edge of crying though you're not quite sure why as his arm curls around you and he rights his plating. And he brushes his mouth against your forehead before letting his helm fall back against the berth, the uncharacteristically gentle touch making the urge to cry worse.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you got roped into this mess," you whisper. Even if he'd been delighting in tormenting Starscream, going out of his way to antagonize him, he'd still not really deserved to be saddled with you for life. You and Star.

"Are you?" He asks, optics fixed on the ceiling and not bothering to look at you. Most likely furious with you for what you'd unconsciously done to him. He's yet to take it out on you, though. Hasn't yelled or threatened. Just seems oddly resigned to this and it makes you feel even worse. Had felt that longing for more echoing through the bond and it hurts. Aches through you.

Before you can come to your senses and second guess yourself, you lean forward and brush your mouth against his in a quick kiss. "You didn't have to save me. You could have let me die and be done with Star, too."

He's just staring at you. Like he isn't sure what to make of you before he drapes an arm across his optics. "I could have been permanently rid of Starscream?” He mutters as if it had never occurred to him until now and you smile despite yourself.

Blowing out a breath, you look up when someone knocks on his door and he slowly lowers his arm, head turning. And then huffs out a bitter sounding laugh as the door opens and Soundwave hesitates just inside the doorway. His visor brightening when he spots you and guilt seizes you by the throat. Not sure what to say to him after what Star had done to your bond with him, but unable to not feel like it was your fault. That you could have stopped Star. Could have fought for your bond. And now you can’t even meet his optics.

“For Primus’s sake,” Megatron growls, rolling slightly so you slide off of him onto the berth as he pushes off and mass shifts. Looming over you, a big hand splayed near your head. “Fix this.” He demands, venting to stir your hair. “Watching you two pining for each other is torture.”

Breathless, you watch him straighten and reach to lay a hand on Soundwave’s shoulder. Before going out the door and leaving you both alone in his habsuite. “Little one,” Soundwave whispers, keeping his distance and you feel it. This new distance and hurt between you. Feel it and hate it.

Sitting up, your jaw works as you press your fists against the tops of your thighs. “I’m so sorry,” you manage, voice breaking and then you’re crying. Knowing it’s all your fault. That you could have done something. And he’s just staring at you, before he rocks into motion. Barely aware of him mass shifting and joining you on the berth. Of his arms curling around you when he goes down on his knees and pulls you into his warmth.

Wrapping his arms around you as you cry and just keep apologizing, your voice ragged and small, he realizes you blame yourself. Even though you couldn’t have stopped Starscream, you’re hurting, too. Brushing his mouth shakily against your forehead, he can’t help but think that maybe if he hadn’t tried to push you and Megatron together to protect you, that Star wouldn’t have tried to sever his bond. Wouldn’t have felt threatened and lashed out. “It wasn’t your fault, little one.” Trying to reassure you as you hide your face against his neck and he feels the dampness of your tears on him. Crooning to you like he would a cassette as he gently grips your chin and makes you look at him.

“I let him,” you whisper, sounding so lost it hurts.

“Couldn’t have stopped him,” he counters, leaning his helm against your forehead. “Bonds can be repaired. If you still want that?” Still want him. Because how he feels hasn’t changed. Even if he has to share you, he wants to bond you. To claim you as his. The swim through your warmth and light again, know you better than he knows himself.

And those teary eyes look up at him as you loop your arms around his neck. Letting him settle himself with you in his lap. Retracting his mask, he brushes his mouth against yours. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips, those words spilling warm through him. Words he’s been desperate to hear.

Servos threading through your hair, mouth sliding hungrily on yours and you open up for him. Letting him taste you as his glossa slides against your tongue. Shifting the plating protecting his spark as he lifts his head. “I love you, too, my little one. My mate.” His little spouse. And you bridge the distance, reaching for his spark and arching against him with a breathless sound.

Expects you to flee and to have to chase you, but you rush to him. Pouring into him, your emotions still a mess of grief, love, and guilt as he cradles your warmth. Soothing away the pain, understanding what you need from him. For him to be your calm, your shelter from the other two when they’re at each other’s throats. And you’re so tired and hurt. Overwhelmed by all of it as he wraps himself around you.

Coaxing you gently to accept him. To claim him as yours. Because even though this isn’t what he would have imagined, this craziness is the family he’s found and he wants it. Even if it comes with Starscream and Megatron as brothers even as they hate each other. He’ll take it for you. For a future. For a chance at a family. Sparklings. Wants it so bad it hurts. To spark you and raise a family with you.

Feel him coaxing you, can feel that not quite a question right there and you accept. Reaching for him as he curls himself tighter around you. Aware of your real body, his mouth brushing against yours even as you’re here tangled in his light. Feeling that bond spangle through you, tying you to him and feeling right. Feeling like home. And his hunger and need spill into you. His desire to spark you lighting through you even though you’d been worried about it when Megatron had brought it up.

But you want this with him, you realize. Whimpering when he carefully separates you from his spark, mouth sliding against yours as if in apology as he rights his plating to hide away that warm light. Those big hands sliding against you as you reach up to cup his face. Pressing kisses against his mouth, his cheek, anywhere you can reach as he hooks an arm around you and carefully lays you back. And you’re all need, arching up into him as your hands stroke over plating. “Please,” you whisper, wanting him. Wanting everything. “Soundwave.”

His mouth covers yours again, the kiss becoming more demanding. Urgent as he frees his spike and you feel it brush against your inner thigh, branding you with his heat. And he growls when he shifts against you, finds you, and presses deep to make you gasp.

That familiar spike stretching you as he shifts against you, hips pumping. His mouth moving against yours, glossa sliding against the seam of your lips and stealing inside as he thrusts inside you, your fingers dip into seams, clinging to him.

Thrusting deep into your wet heat, you whimper into his mouth and you’re where you belong once more. The bond finally whole like it should have been all along. Your emotions spilling into him, familiar and right. His little mate in his arms. Your need and love urging him to claim you. Growling as you hook a leg around him, hips rocking to meet his thrusts as needy as he is. And he wants all of it, all of you, mouth brushing yours as he breaks the kiss and your head lifts, breath warm against his lips as you try to claim his mouth again.

“Let me spark you,” he growls, your lips brush his. Those eyes he loves opening and he needs this. Wants it so much his spark aches. Just the thought of you carrying his sparkling nearly enough to make him release right then. “Let me have this.”

“Spark me,” you whisper and he groans, hips pumping as he shifts over you, trying to find that angle you like. That spot that makes you shatter for him. “Soundwave.” Voice a ragged whimper, he mouths your soft skin, rolling his hips and you cry out. Coming apart under him, little fingers digging into seams as you tighten on him.

Hips bucking urgently, he urges one of your thighs up higher. Driving deep as you fist his spike and listening to those little, needy sounds that are just for him. Because right now, it’s just you and him. There’s no other mates, so drama. Groaning as his thrusts falter, he shifts his plating. Snares you with his spark as he’s filling you. Hips still rocking as he coaxes you. Asking. Pleading as he tangles in you, your scent, your body, your light all his. And he feels you accept him, reaching out in return as he shudders against you, filling you again as his mouth opens on a groan against your jaw. His little mate. Finally his.

Previous

[prettygirl-gabi]

If you'd ask me why I like Paige bueckers I'd say it's cause she pretty and tall...

But...If you asked me on a deeper level from my perspective, I’d tell you it’s because Paige Bueckers is more than just a great basketball player—she’s a competitor in every sense of the word.

It’s the way she carries herself on and off the court. The way she leads, not just with her words but with her actions. She’s been through injuries, setbacks, and doubts, but she always comes back stronger, like she refuses to let anything define her except her own determination.

I’d tell you it’s the way she plays—so smooth, so smart, so effortless. She makes the game look easy, but you know behind it is years of hard work, hours in the gym, a fire that never goes out. She sees the game differently, like a step ahead of everyone else, and it’s mesmerizing to watch.

It’s her confidence, too—not cocky, just assured. Like she knows exactly who she is and what she brings to the table. And then there’s the way she interacts with her teammates, the way she hypes them up, takes responsibility when things go wrong, and lifts them when they need it.

And maybe, beyond all that, it’s the way she makes people believe in something. Whether it’s in women’s basketball, in her, or in the idea that no matter how many times life knocks you down, you can always get back up.

Paige is passionate about her craft. To me she's like a firefly or the North star guiding a way. She's helped me stay afloat in my darkest moments, yet she doesn't even know it. I know that there is a day where she will have to say goodbye to UConn, but it won't be the last of her and her craft. She's someone who is selfless. Caring. Gentle. Understanding. Driven. Passionate. True to herself.

So yeah, she’s pretty and tall. But if you asked me why I like Paige Bueckers? I’d tell you it’s because she’s a fighter. And that’s something worth admiring.

[muqingslover]

[ It's come to my attention that MC and Caleb fool around with strawberries somewhere in-game and I'd like to give my take on that ]

Caleb has a long history of being rather...sneaky when it comes to stashing food. Specifically, he always has some sort of snack on him for when you feel peckish, no matter the situation— Long study sessions? Have a chocolate. Late for work? Here's an apple before you leave mans just pulling stuff out of his inventory. However, as sweet as that is, he is just as sneaky when it comes to stealing food from you because 'yours tastes better' even though you two are having the exact same thing.

In which brings us all to now, where here he was again trying to steal a strawberry from the bowl you had been snacking from. This time however, you were quicker to snatch it away from his sticky hands before he could and told him he couldn't have any, earning an amused chuckle from him.

"Stingy much?" He mused, tilting his head to the side with a playful glint in his purple eyes. "What's the harm in letting me have one?" And that's when the idea sparked in your brain. It all started as a silly tease, payback for all his crimes of theft if you will.

"Fine. Here," You agreed a bit too easily for his liking, and he immediately knew you were up to something when you brought the fruit to his lips with a mischievous expression he's far too familiar with. "but you can't touch it. Who knows how many you'll steal with those sticky hands of yours."

He raises an eyebrow at your words, but before he can argue with some clever retort you press the strawberry against his lips to shush him, the red juice oozing out as you hurried him to eat it. Caleb however is not one to let you have the "last word" and he will get back at you, one way or another, and this time he does it by tilting his head down to take a bite without resistance.

"It's sweet" He says without breaking eye contact with you as he continued to eat the fruit until his lips touched your fingertips and he nibbled lightly on it. One of his hands would grasp your wrist to hold you in place to keep you from pulling away when he pushes his warm tongue out to lick along your skin where the sweet juice of the strawberry had trickled down. He follows the red streak slowly, cleaning up the mess and enjoying the feeling of you on his mouth, which he can't help but let his mind wonder about just how good you'd taste if he had his mouth somewhere else instead— That thought makes his hand clench hard next to his side and is enough to make him realize he's pushing his own luck by thinking he could tease you without dragging himself down a rabbit hole.

"But everything always taste better when it comes from you." He smiles charmingly, ruffling your hair so you couldn't see his face as he stood up and excused himself as quickly as he had appeared. From that day onwards, Caleb didn't try to steal food as often anymore unless you two were somewhere with a bathroom close by, preferably with a cold shower available.

[ventique18]

~ Unwilting Flower~ 🐉🌸

It's Valentine's Day. Your friends are giving each other flowers just for the heck of it, because if they're not going to celebrate it, who else would? You yourself are already committed, but real friends don't exclude anyone. So that means you're part of their celebration too.

And you could only guess what the exact thought process is going on in his head when your darling-- your Valentine Malleus Draconia's delightful smile turns into a deep scowl the moment he sees you carrying a bundle of assorted flora in your arms.

"Hmph. Wait for a moment."

He disappears without your confirmation. Why, is he jealous? You shrug and thought you'd just let him simmer down on his own-- you have nothing to feel guilty about. He knows your bonds with your friends are strictly platonic. If he feels jealous in any way, he could just join your merry band of flower giving, present something to everyone, and receive some himself.

... And then you arrive at your classroom for that hour... to a blossom of multicolored roses decorating your desk; as gaudy as a flower cake, with only a few inches of blank space left in the middle. As if the decorator only realized at the last second that you're supposed to be studying and not gardening.

You can't help but feel everyone's gaze on you throughout the entire lecture, naturally.

But that's not even the end of it. Random bursts of flower petals would shower on you when you enter a room. A student you don't know the name of would present you a bouquet of various knickknacks for seemingly no reason. (You note that they're all suspiciously wearing Diasomnia uniform.) And flowers start blooming at your feet when you accompany Grim to the field for his Spelldrive practice.

But the straw on the camel's back is when you go back home. Right there, in the dead center of your lounge, sitting pretty and sipping tea-- is the main culprit. Surrounded by what you would guess are thousands, and thousands, of roses.

Ever the pleasant look on his face, he smiles slowly at you with a clink of his teacup. "Did you like my little surprise for you?"

"Little--"

You have to remind yourself that this man has no common sense.

You refuse to sit next to him even as he discreetly pats the empty space on the couch. "Well, I appreciate it. It really made me feel the depth of your love for me--"

"The depth of my love? If you believe it so, then I must offer you more posthaste--"

"That's, that's exactly my reservation... I think you don't need to be this excessive. I mean," You gesture helplessly to the roses around you, "It'll make me sad when all of this wilts."

You see him surprised for a second. Does he finally understand? Did he get that the cleanup will be a huge pain? You live alone, and you're sure as hell Grim wouldn't be willing to help play janitor for an entire day.

"Then," he grins at you amusedly, as if you just asked if he knew how to spell his name, "If you wish to be reminded of my devotion to you every waking day, then it'll be child's play for me to ensure than not a single petal wilts for as long as you live."

No! Absolutely not!

"Hornton. I thought you'd have understood who I am at this point." You look away from him, a bit nervous to be rejecting his efforts when he looks so earnest in trying to win your approval. "You know I'd rather spend time with you. A little bit of wine and dine, maybe? Maybe watch a cheesy movie or two."

He pauses. Looks at you seriously. He seems to have caught on.

He stands up, and every blossom in the room-- every rose petal on the carpet and every vine that carefully lined the curtains, disappears with a sparkle. Devoid of the sudden fancy, only the bare homeliness of your dorm remains.

He doesn't walk to you, but he attracts your gaze anyway. "My apologies. I seemed to have focused on satisfying myself, rather than think of what would satisfy you."

You smile reassuringly. "It's alright. I know how hard you try."

It's you who finally approaches. You stop in front of him, then take his hands in yours. He returns the gesture by affectionately rubbing the tips of your fingers, and there you're reminded of how much heavier he can show love through little actions like this, compared with the pomp of public exhibitions.

You entwine your fingers together.

"But why the sudden display? Were you jealous?" You ask.

He urges you to sit down with him. "Jealous?"

"That our friends gave me flowers."

Our friends. The corners of his lips quirks up at that; in his eyes, it's the little considerate messages that you weave in your words that makes you stand out from everyone else.

"No. In fact I'm delighted that they appreciate you. It's just..."

"Just..?"

"... That I saw Schoenheit behind you, carrying a much larger bouquet than you were. I thought he did not deserve to be the most appreciated person in this place."

"... And so you... tried to one-up him by doing all that for me?"

He nods.

And you laugh.

"What's so amusing?"

He really doesn't realize how funny he is sometimes. You cover a hand to your mouth to try and slow down the giggles. "You're so unpredictable. I just can't correctly guess what goes on in your head."

"It's you who's unpredictable."

"Then that's good, isn't it? We have an eternity to try and decipher what each other's thinking." Your gaze roams; settling on his tea gone cold, "Then at the end of the world... we can reveal our answers and decide who got each other most accurately."

The crinkles on his brows slowly smoothen when he takes in your words. His hands unconsciously trail to the inside of his coat; toying with something as he wonders idly.

"... I have something for you." He says solemnly.

You stop giggling, but the smile remains on your face. "Don't tell me it's another Valentine's token. Maybe chocolate?"

He grins, but doesn't answer you. Instead, his hands wander to your jacket; fingers expertly pinning something on the lapel. Just above your left breast.

"A gift for you, but a promise to myself as well."

It's a brooch. Perhaps a bit more simple in design-- a tasteful black with a muted sheen of alexandrite-- definitely not themed around the gaudy red of Valentine's, but very distinctively him.

"May I always be the one closest to your heart, and though our bodies may decay before the end of time..."

You press his hands closer to your chest; determined not to let go as you finish his promise for him. For yourself.

"May this unwilting flower bear witness to the many promises we will make, and how we stayed true to all of them."

[eclipixels]

Auction

Sylus x Reader

Content: Sylus and you are on a mission at yet another auction, but things get heated and messy when one of the high-profile men there takes an interest to you

Warnings: 🍋

[2,822 words]

Sylus let out a dramatic sigh, laced with playful teasing. "Well, well, who do we have here, all dressed up so elegantly? Could it be you, Y/n?"

"No, it's me, Mephisto the bird," you deadpanned.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to give you a compliment," he muttered, only for you to giggle in response.

His smirk deepened as his gaze swept over you. "A maroon dress, my favorite color. Now, how did you manage to figure that out?" He extended his arm toward you.

Linking your arm with his, you mused, "Hmm, maybe it had something to do with that fit you threw when Kieran and Luke told you they only had blue available for your weapon touch-ups?"

Sylus huffed. "Battle recognition is just as crucial as anything else, Y/n. How else would my men immediately know it was me?"

"Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you're the only one whose evol shrouds them in red mist?" you quipped.

"Whatever," he dismissed with a shake of his head, but his expression softened. With a gentle touch, he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his voice warm. "I just wanted to tell you that you look absolutely ethereal tonight."

A warm blush crept onto your cheeks as you smiled. No matter how effortlessly his teasing could get under your skin, he always knew precisely what to say to make you melt beneath his gaze in half the time.

"You could have just led with that," you murmured.

"I enjoy a good buildup," he replied smoothly.

And oh, did he.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard after this," Sylus whispered against your ear before gripping your waist and effortlessly lifting you onto his motorcycle.

Excitement buzzed through you. Most missions left him too stressed to truly enjoy your time together, but tonight felt different. You just hoped the helmet wouldn’t completely ruin your hair as he revved the engine and sped through the streets toward the banquet.

By the time you arrived, the sky had begun to shift into a soft pink hue.

Wealthy, high-profile guests bustled past, flaunting expensive accessories. Some chased after friends, laughter and conversation filling the grand entrance. You let Sylus guide you inside.

Apparently, you were among the last to arrive. A thunderous welcome erupted as dozens of already-intoxicated dealers greeted Sylus at the table. Though they had no idea who you were, they treated you with the same warmth, as if you belonged.

A man who seemed more important than the rest raised his glass in a toast to Sylus and "his lovely companion" before swiftly returning to his feast and drink.

Sylus pulled out your chair, and you murmured a quiet thanks before settling in. He took his seat beside you, and almost instantly, he was swept into conversation with people you'd never met.

You picked at the food before you, savoring small bites. Half of it was unrecognizable, but every morsel was exquisite.

Still, as time passed, boredom crept in. You knew no one, and Sylus, ever the charmer, was busy captivating the group to your left.

With nothing else to do, you idly poked at your food, feeling distinctly out of place.

From afar, you saw a group of ladies around him. They were touching his arm and giggling. He didn't do a thing to move them away.

"You look like you could use a drink."

It took you a moment to realize the boy across the table was talking to you. You lifted your cheek off your hand and cocked your head at him.

"It's wine, aged quite nicely, due to the special occasion."

He had brown hair, brown eyes with tan skin. The suit he was wearing was a crisp crimson red with accents of gold.

"I'm sorry, you are...?"

"Ollivander," he poured the offered bottle of wine over your waiting glass. "But my friends call me Ander."

"I'm Y/n," you offered in turn, tipping the glass toward him in thanks. He asked your profession, and you had to make up some lie, not revealing your hunter status or this whole thing would blow. “I came here with Sylus”

You thought about adding 'Mr.' or 'Boss' before his name, but it just didn't sound right coming out of your mouth.

"Ah, the leader of Onychinus" Ander raised an eyebrow, then leaned across the table so only you could hear, "Tell me. Is that whole thing about him true?"

You choked on your drink, wondering what he was talking about. You tlit your eyes to Sylus, watching him talk cheerily with the rich pretty girls.

"What do you mean?." you asked, twirling the dark liquid around in your glass.

"Oh nevermind" Ander took your answer, sipping his wine at the same time as you. He kept his eyes on yours over the brim of his glass until he set it down again, shifting his seat closer.

"So, Y/n. How are you enjoying my brother’s auction so far"

"Your brother?"

"The CEO of the second biggest weapons manufacturer," he explained.

"Oh, everything is so... fancy. But I guess you're used to it."

Ander smiled knowingly at this, and you relaxed a bit in relief.

"Miss Y/n, I can have all the finest protocores in the world, yet nothing could ever compare to the gem sitting before me."

"Mr. Ollivander," Sylus suddenly announced, pulling himself away from the conversation. His hand found your knee and squeezed it gently. "I believe we've met before."

"Yes, I recall your men having an... altercation with our employees," Ander responded to your confused expression.

"A brave man, your brother," Sylus acknowledged, his tone calm but laced with something more. "For sending your people to intercept mine. Though some might consider it more foolish than brave."

"That, he is," Ander agreed with a small smirk. "But I think you'll find I'm nothing like my brother."

Sylus's grip on your knee tightened as you laughed at the exchange.

"Thank goodness he was there to save the day," Ander added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You could practically feel the possessiveness radiating from Sylus.

You let Ander keep talking, Sylus glaring at him while his hand slowly inched higher up your thigh. He was careful to keep your dress in place, so it wouldn’t attract too much attention, but you still felt uneasy with how close his fingers were getting.

“Yes... thank,” Sylus said, his voice sharp. “Goodness.”

"More wine?" Ander asked, clearing his throat as he turned his attention back to you.

As Ander spoke, you felt Sylus’s fingers lightly brush the delicate skin between your thighs. You quickly swallowed the remaining wine, gripping his wrist to stop him with one hand, while reaching out to accept Ander’s offer with the other.

"Now, tell me, Y/n," Ander continued, "What brings someone as lovely as you here?"

"Well," you started, your voice trembling as Sylus’s hand continued its persistent teasing, now settling over your underwear. You cursed him silently, wishing you had more time to come up with a convincing story instead of being distracted by his antics before arriving here.

"I had nothing going on tonight" You said as he withdrew his hand from your panties, the evidence of your desire coating his fingers.

Your response was unclear, uninspired, and far from the truth, but it was the only thing your overwhelmed mind could conjure. Your fingers dug into the skin of Sylus's wrist as he continued his unfair movements inside you.

"Ah, I understand." Ander acknowledged your response, but his gaze lingered on you as he took another drink. Your hand shook slightly as you lifted your glass to your mouth. Sylus, with his love for fine wine, swirled his drink in the glass before taking a swift sip, all while casually slipping a finger inside you. He grinned at the shock in your eyes, licking the dark red wine from his lips.

"Enough about me," you urged, placing your glass aside. "Surely there must be something more captivating we could discuss."

"More captivating than you, darling?" Ander raised an eyebrow. Sylus pressed his finger deep inside you, twisting it around.

"That's a tough request, if you ask me," Sylus replied, and though you shot him a look, Ander appeared oblivious.

"I completely agree with that sentiment. But if the lady prefers not to be the center of attention, perhaps I could tell you about my recent business trip to Skyhaven?"

"Ander—may I call you Ander?" Sylus teased, earning a brief, polite smile and a nod.

"Of course."

"I don’t mean to interrupt, but where exactly did you say this wine was from?" Sylus inquired.

"Oh, it’s from my own wine business. It’s harvested in zero gravity for a purer, uninterrupted flavor. The fermentation process is accelerated using protocores and Chronofermentation for aging."

Sylus eyed the wine with clear distaste. "Well, it’s not good."

Ander’s smile faltered, his expression briefly freezing. "It’s an acquired taste."

"Hm." Sylus scrunched his face, eyeing the bottle again.

"Your date seems to be enjoying my wine," Ander remarked with a smirk.

Sylus turned to look at you. "Does she?"

"Uh..." You hesitated. You didn’t want to answer. Sylus raised an eyebrow in that signature way of his. Mentally, you were scolding him. Why was he being messy?

"It’s good,” you say with a smile. You feel Sylus shift his fingers roughly in response. Your eyes widen in surprise. Is this his way of retaliating for your response? You clutch his wrist for support.

"Your trip to Sky Haven?" you ask, your voice catching after a brief pause. Ander chuckles softly before diving into the conversation.

You gave him a faint smile and nodded to show your support. He started talking about the trades and pilots he’d encountered, going on and on, while you tried to keep up by smiling at the right moments, nodding when needed, and pretending to listen attentively. Sylus had fit another finger inside you and was pulling them in and out with a slight shift of his wrist, working past the squeeze of your thighs around him. You were leaking so much you swore you could hear squelches everytime he shoved his fingers back im you

You tried to resist him, but it felt too enticing... he had pushed you to such an intense point of longing that you'd do anything to find relief. Even if it meant right here, in front of a man who unmistakably had an interest in you. Your hands gripped the edge of the tablecloth as he rocked his fingers into you especially hard, then pulled them out completely. You clenched emptily, searching for his hand.

"Don't you agree, Y/n?" Ander asked.

It was messy, and dirty, and downright sinful, what he was doing under the table.

"Y/n? Are you okay? I don't think you caught that."

"Sorry, what?" You swallowed hard.

Sylus grew sick of the teasing then, and roughly plunged his fingers back into you. You whimpered quietly and shifted in your seat, almost spilling your wine glass if Sylus hadn't caught it in time.

"Y/n... I don’t mean to overstep, but are you feeling okay? Your cheeks are a bit flushed, and you're sweating.”

Sylus pulled his fingers out of you again. Your attention was captured by him though, as he licked the fingers that were just inside you. Ander was looking directly at him, and you were unimaginably turned on and a tiny bit ashamed at how you gushed at the sight.

"Excuse me, I think I could use some fresh air," you muttered, hurrying towards the exit in search of a bathroom.

"I should probably go after her and make sure she's okay," Sylus remarked with a smile before standing up. Catching up to you, he swiftly pushed you into one of the elegant restrooms, locking the door behind you.

"That was cruel," you hissed, feeling the uncomfortable stickiness on your thighs.

"Was it cruel for you or for him?"

"Both."

He laughed darkly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Don't think you'll get away so easily," you warned as he approached, backing you into the countertop.

"Oh?" He traced his fingers from your neck down to your chest, subtly pulling the dress lower to expose the skin beneath.

"You need to finish what you began."

"I do?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you ask him?" Sylus raised an eyebrow, his tone playful. "I’m sure he’d be thrilled to put his hands on you—"

"Sylus!"

He sighed before lifting you onto the countertop. Leaning in, he kissed your neck, his hand sliding up the inside of your thigh. His touch was soft, teasing as his finger traced a delicate line up and down between your legs. Sylus smirked cruelly, moving your underwear to the side. He mouthed a line down your neck, teasing the sensitive skin between his teeth.

He increased the pressure on your clit, index finger feeling for your entrance. He curled two fingers inside of you, immediately hitting your sweet spot while biting a mark into your neck. You arched into him. Everyone always thought Sylus was so reckless but he you knew with the way he fucked you half to heaven, everything he did was meticulously planned and thought out.

“Bend over.” His voice sent chills down your spine. You let him pull his hand back and did as he said. You were leaning over the counter. You arched your back as he came to stand behind you, smoothing a hand over your soft flesh.

You pressed back against him, your skin burning with desire, craving his touch. He had been teasing you all night, and you were done waiting. Your thighs were slick, and your patience was worn thin. Every time you thought you had him, he'd pull away, but this time, there was something different in his voice—a promise, and you were more than ready to see it fulfilled.

he lined himself up at your entrance, the large length of him sinking in. You sighed in relief. This is what he'd been holding back for so long, what you'd been needing for hours now. He didn't give you time to adjust before he slammed into you, hard and fast and punishing. With your legs closed and walls tightened, he filled up every inch of you. You were cumming in no time at all, barely given a moment to wrap your muddled brain around the actions that brought you here. He didn't slow down. As you moaned through your orgasm, expecting him to give you time to recover, he sped up, holding your hips down and driving into you with a new fervor.

You sucked in every breath you could as he slammed into you, a constant stream of muscle-trembling pleasure washing over you with each push and pull of his cock. You tried to keep quiet but he kept fucking you deep and hard and good.

You didn't know how many times he made you cum before he finally let up. His pace slowed and he allowed you to breathe, shaking and sweating and voice turned hoarse. You were clenching involuntarily around Sylus's cock, tender and sore. Sylus whispered sweet praises into your ear, but all you could hear was your rushing heartbeat and a distant ringing.

You whimpered pathetically, clawing at the marble countertop as he rocked into you, painfully pleasant sparks shooting through your body.

Sylus sighed, hand smoothing down your spine, his touch gentle but his voice icy cold.

"Let me hear how good I make you feel,” he whispered, fingers squeezing around your neck as his cock scraped against your walls delicately. He groaned appreciatively as he felt you stiffen around him, then the wave of pleasure crashed over you all at once, causing weak cries to tear from your throat. Once your body stopped spasming and your cries turned to exhausted little noises, he slowly pulled out of you. Sylus had finished as well, his cum mixing into the mess you had made of yourself and he smiled at your ruined state.

“Think you can finish the mission tonight?” He asked teasingly.

“Huh?” You asked. You had completely forgotten why you were here in the first place.

“My goodness, Y/n. did I fuck you dumb?”

“I just—I need a second to touch up and I can—yeah.” You sighed, looking at the way his cum spilled out of you.

“Need help?” He asked teasingly.

“You’ve helped enough, tonight.” You scowled at him as he laughed wickedly.

[fmhobeus]

youngest intern in the history of ppth's oncology. thats you.

"you're still here?" wilson calls out to the void seemingly. your head peaks out from the crowded shelves of the lab to give him a nod.

oh this is bad.

this is not what you need. you dont need you're hot boss to distract you when you're trying to conduct some tests he asked you to. especially not when you haven't slept in 2 days and have had copious amounts of coffee in your system making you jittery. you dont need him to increase your heart rate to the point where your capillaries explode. oh you're gonna fuck up somehow. you're tell him you like him. because lord knows you do. your boss. you have a silly schoolgirl crush on your pathetically gorgeous boss. the kind that makes you nauseous and unwell because he's just so, so pretty. and you'd end up telling him that you'd risk it all if he just gave you the chance.

but you like this job. you need this job. you can't let it go just because you've got a thing for older men with kind eyes whose soft lips spill praises like...

"you there?"

"mhm" you gulp. somehow your mouth is really fucking dry. good god, james wilson. good fucking god. you just want to rub your face on his chest like a cat. you need him to touch you. to pet you. to run his deft fingers refined from years of surgery and paperwork and everything else through your hair or something... what's wrong with you? there's a pit in your abdomen that needs him. you need him to praise you, like he always does. you need him to look at you, take you in, take advantage of you. just dear lord do something. not just stand there and express concern as your employer. just come closer, please, your mind whimpers to him.

"i really think you should rest. we've made considerable progress thanks to your good work and extra hours. you've really proved yourself."

but you don't want this to stop. he thinks you're good. useful. your boss, the intellectual, witty and beautiful man you work for, the best doctor you've met. the one who puts in the hours and effort to better himself in what he does... thinks you did a good job.

wilson does find you admirable. he likes your work ethic, your thirst to prove yourself. he likes your obsession, he compares it to house's sometimes. he like the way you talk, not much to him for some reason (maybe it's the "boss" thing or...) but everyone else in the oncology department. he likes that you're young and you hold him in high regard. you're always so attentive when he talks, so perceptive, so willing. among those things he commends, the ones he can tell his colleagues about, he also likes the tint in your skin when you stand under the dim lighting in the lab. some of it reflecting off your hair, slightly unkempt but beautiful. he likes you without the lab coat. he likes your keen eyes, your smile, your hands, your face, your tits, your...

he lets out a deep sigh. wilson likes you. admires you. maybe overstepping his place as your boss, as your mentor, as whatever that is you're making him in your head, the reflection of which he sees in your eyes sometimes. something desperate. aching. calling out his name, as if to say "come heal me".

and he knows what it is. it's the same look of admiration he gives you. the murky one. the slightly lustful one. he knows what you are. pretty young thing, final year med student, who'd rather flirt with house than chase or foreman. but he'd rather pretend he didnt. rather kid himself into thinking he doesn't care when chase of all people calls you young. that he doesn't feel guilty for wanting you to want him.

but maybe if he played into it long enough, played dumb long enough, made you feel like this is just how he is. just this sweet. if he made you believe that he had a reason to fold his cuffs to reveal his rather slutty forearms, loosen his tie on a late night, take off his coat complaining about the new jersey weather, gaze into your eyes at every occasion he got, all in pure innocence. this isnt flirting. this isn't an old man's desperation and desire permeating his professionalism.

no. this is okay. all he hopes for is that one day you'll give in. confess your love to him like cameron did to house. fight for him. shed a few tears. maybe then he could wipe then off your pretty cheeks and sigh. he could then reject you. just speak those words of "i'm sorry, it's inappropriate and your much younger than me" into existence. make them real, if only he could use all the rationality in the world to convince himself that he doesn't want you as despicably and carnally as he does.

he shuts his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. no. this isn't right. he'd be taking advantage of you. even if its what you want. even if it could be his little present to you.

"go home, doctor."

he leaves the door of the lab open on his way out.

[yelenasdiary]

Valentines Request!! Maria x Reader were Maria is off duty from being the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and decides to plan a whole day for her and Reader like a little picnic in the field by their house, a bath for them to soak in together with candles. Maria also making a valentines basket up with some chocolate and other things like roses and stuff reader would like maybe some jewelry. And then at the end of the night Maria proposes to Reader after watching a few movies. Basically just full one fluff. You can ad anything else you'd like!

-🌊

Maria's Plans

Pairing: Maria Hill x GN! Reader

Summary: Maria has the perfect Valentines Day planned out.

Fluff

Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.1K

AC: Thank you for sending this! It’s been ages since I wrote for Maria! I hope you enjoy! x 

Cupid’s Masterlist 2025

The morning air nipped at Maria’s cheeks as she stepped onto the back porch with a coffee warming her hands. The soft, warm glow of the morning sun kissed the open field before her, exactly how she hoped it would. It was a big day today, for Maria anyways. She’d taken some time off from being Director of S.H.I.E.L.D and all its deadlines to focus on something a little, sorry, a lot more important to her. 

She’d woken up early, slipping out of bed careful not to wake you, even though you lightly stirred at her absence. She grabbed the picnic basket out from the storage cupboard, ready to pack it with sandwiches, fresh fruit, some of your favorite snacks and some sparkling cider. All the things she had brought yesterday and prepared while you were in the shower last night. 

Maria whipped up a breakfast feast while you were in the bedroom, completely in a deep slumber, the smell of waffles syrup wasn’t even to wake you. She clearly carried the tray in her hands into the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand before gently nudging you, she hated to wake you but she couldn’t wait to spend the day with you. 

“Honey” she whispered softly, “time to rise and shine, sleepyhead”.

You groaned softly, burrowing deeper into the softness of your pillow, “Mm, five more minutes”.

Maira smiled softly, leaning down and placing a kiss on your cheek, “I made breakfast” she whispered. You finally cracked an eye open, a sleepy smile graced your lips, “waffles?”

She chuckled, “of course, what else would I make for my favourite person?”

You sat up, your back resting against the headboard as Maria carefully placed the tray across your lap. “I have a whole day planned for us today” she said. 

“A whole day?” You asked, a little confused, completely forgetting it was Valentines Day. Your brain still waking up. “I plan to make this Valentines special” Maria replied. 

“Oh crap! I totally forgot!” You stressed, feeling bad. Maria gave you a comforting smile, “you’ve been busy with work, don’t stress. Besides, today is about you” she assured you even though you still felt horrible for forgetting. “Now, eat up, don’t want your waffles to get cold” she added.

After breakfast, Maria drove you to Otsego Lake, the perfect place to set the scene. She laid the picnic blanket out, layered with large throw pillows for extra comfort. The sun casted its warmth over the water as the two of you sat down, intertwined with one another. The fresh air was a small reminder of the peace the world had to offer.

“These sandwiches are so good!” You beamed, taking another bite of the roast beef relish sandwich. 

“Only the best for you” Maria smiled softly, taking a bite of her own sandwich. 

The food picked at, the cider almost gone. Maria’s arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer into her as the afternoon tore on. The sun kept you both warm as the air hummed with the sound of bees buzzing through the wildflowers.

“This is the best Valentines day” you sighed contentedly, enjoying the down time together. 

“The day’s not over yet” Maria smirked, running her hand through your hair before she took a deep breath. She reached for your hand, her own trembling slightly. You looked at her with soft eyes as her blue eyes looked into yours. “We’ve been together for a while now” she began, “and these past few years, they’ve been, well, they’ve been the best years of my life…you’re…you’re everything to me” she shifted, pulling out a small velvet box from her pocket. 

Your eyes widened; a look of surprise spread across your face. “I know our jobs can take a lot from us but, you, you make it all worth wild. You’re my best friend and the love of my life” she added, opening the small box, revealing a ring. “Will you marry me?” She asked. 

The silence that followed was deafening. Maria held her breath, her heart pounding, then, your eyes filled with tears. A smile bloomed on your face, “yes” you whispered. Your voice thick with emotion, “yes Maria! A thousand times, yes!”. 

Maria let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through her body as she carefully slid the ring onto your finger before pulling you for a tight hug. “I love you so much” she murmured. 

“I love you too, Maria” you replied, squeezing her tightly, “more than words will ever be able to say”.

----

Maria transformed the bathroom into a haven of gentle fragrance and lit candles. The scent of lavender and chamomile hung in the air as she filled the bath with the perfect temperature. She added bath salts, fragrance oils and bubbles to the tub before finishing it with sprinkled rose petals. 

You smiled softly at Maria as you leant against the doorframe of the bathroom, admiring the way she moved swiftly around the bathroom wanting to make the perfect bath.

“Now I just need one more thing” she beamed proudly. 

“Let me guess, would that one last thing be me?” You asked, your voice laced with love. Maria’s soft smile grew as she closed the gap between you both, “you guessed correctly” she said softly, cupping your cheek. 

“You didn’t have to do all this for me” you replied, melting into her touch. 

“I wanted too” she said, her thumb gently stroking your cheek, “we don’t want it to get too cold now” she added. You smiled softly, nodding your head at her words.

After stripping your clothing and throwing them in the hamper nearby, you and Maria sat comfortably in the bath, your back resting against her front as the two of you soaked. Maria intertwined her fingers with yours, admiring the engagement ring on your finger. “It suits you” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

You chuckled lightly, “I feel like I need some time to get used to having it, I keep playing with it” you admitted. 

“It took me months to find the perfect ring” she replied.

“You picked perfectly” you smiled softly. 

As the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound was the gently cracking of the candles and the soft movements of the water. “You know” you began, breaking the silence, “everybody is going to consistently ask if we have set a date yet”.

Maria chuckled, “yeah, I figured they would”. 

You turned your head slightly, looking up at her, “you’re perfect” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Maria leaned forward, kissing you softly, “says you” she smiled. The scent of lavender and chamomile forever burned into your senses, to remind you of this perfect night being wrapped in your fiancé’s arms, sinking deeper into her hold. The future ahead looked brighter than ever, as it always did. But for now, it was you and Maria sharing ideas for the wedding that you were beyond excited for.

If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.

[arcadia-smith]

Part 1 here.

TW: idk, angst, fem!reader is a traitor, Simon Riley is pissed. Mention of blood, torture. Let me know if I've missed anything.

Part 2

Two Months Ago

The rain poured in heavy sheets, drenching everything in sight. The hum of boots on the wet ground was the only sound for miles, the usual military chatter dampened by the storm. It was an ambush—an unexpected one, but Ghost’s team was trained for this. Still, it didn’t stop the tension from building between everyone.

You next to him were different tonight. Normally, you'd crack jokes or shoot him a sly grin, but tonight, you were all business. Eyes focused, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Got a feeling about this one,” he muttered, his voice cutting through the rain.

You glanced at him, face shadowed by the brim of your helmet. “What kind of feeling?”

He didn’t answer immediately, watching surroundings instead. “The kind you don’t ignore.”

You nodded, but your eyes held something else. Something darker. “We’ll be ready.”

Your voice was quiet, almost too quiet. He wasn’t sure if it was the rain or something else in the air, but it felt like you were already bracing for something.

You set up camp that night in an abandoned building, the walls crumbling and the roof barely keeping the rain at bay. Ghost sat against the far wall, the cold of the stone seeping through his gear, but it didn’t bother him. He had other things on his mind.

His eyes kept drifting to you. You were seated across the room, the flicker of the candlelight casting shadows on your face.

“You’re quiet,” he said, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

Your eyes flickered to his, then away. You didn’t answer right away, but he could tell you were weighing something in your mind. Something you weren't ready to share.

It wasn’t like you to be so closed off.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

This time, you met his gaze. Lips curled into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine, Ghost. You worry too much.”

But Ghost wasn’t convinced.

He leaned forward, the weight of the unspoken between you settling on his shoulders. “You’re lying.”

Your eyes darkened, something flickering in the depths of them that made his stomach turn. You looked away again.

“You know,” you began slowly, “sometimes I wonder if we’re all just—” you stopped yourself, catching the words before they left your mouth.

“Just what?” he pressed, though he already had an inkling.

But you shook your head, as if you had already said too much. “Never mind.”

Ghost studied yoy for a moment. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut, deep where his instincts screamed at him to pay attention.

You stood abruptly, grabbing your gear. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

His gaze followed you, but he didn’t move. “Don’t go far.”

He waited. And waited.

And when you still hadn’t returned by the time the others began settling in, he stood and grabbed his rifle.

It was a mistake not to follow you sooner.

Back to the Present.

The memory hits him hard, and for a moment, Ghost almost forgets where he is. He’s back in the rain-soaked building, watching you disappear into the night without a second glance, trusting that you'd be back.

But you hadn’t.

And now here you are, sitting in front of him, bound to a chair, the traitor he should have known was hiding beneath the surface.

The worst part? He doesn’t know if he can still trust his instincts anymore.

He leans in close, his voice a low rasp. “I should’ve followed you that night.”

Your lips twitch into a mockery of a smile. “Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”

He growls low, fists clenching at his sides. “Stop playing games, you don’t get to—”

But you're already shaking your head, like you know the question before he asks it.

“You never asked the right questions, Simon.”

The way you say his name—his real name—stings in a way he can’t explain.

“You were always too busy watching, waiting,” you continue, eyes cold. “But you never listened.”

Ghost’s breath catches. “What are you talking about?”

You lean forward slightly, just enough to challenge him. “I didn’t betray you because I wanted to. I did it because you left me no choice.”

Eight Months Ago

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of dust and old paper. A single laptop screen glowed in the darkness, its light reflecting in your tired eyes.

You weren't supposed to be here. Weren't supposed to be going through these files.

But something wasn’t adding up.

Your team had taken down a cartel stronghold two weeks ago—a clean mission, no civilians harmed, no loose ends. Or so they thought.

But then you saw the reports. Leaked documents. Missing people. Names that shouldn’t have been on that list.

And one name in particular had made your stomach drop.

Your brother.

He had been dead for years. Or so you had believed.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as the reality settled over you like a weight you couldn’t shake.

The cartel hadn’t killed him.

Your pulse pounded as you scrolled through classified files, mind racing to make sense of it. Ghost’s team—your team—had been fed false intel. You had executed a mission based on lies.

The organization you had dedicated your life to wasn’t what you thought it was.

And now, you had a choice.

Because if your brother was still alive—if there was even a chance—you weren't going to leave him behind.

Not like last time.

And if that meant betraying everything you'd ever known?

So be it.

[kittendreaw]

Supermassive Black Hole

03: Once Upon A Dream

Werewolf! Yuji x Vampire F! Reader

Words: 2 k

Mainlist

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.

You hadn't talked to Maki all week and you'd be lying if you said you weren't slowly dying (again) but your pride was too big to try to do anything.

Yuji noticed that there was something strange about you, you were too distant (again) you had already started to open up a little with him but out of nowhere it seemed that you had decided to go back as far as you had advanced.

It's not like you really had been ignoring him, you just had too many things on your mind and it was hard to focus on anything.

Although Yuji didn't know what was happening to you, he thought that maybe giving you space was the right thing to do. One day then two days and finally three days was his limit, he was going to find out what was happening and he was going to help you.

You are sitting alone and calm, you had kept your distance from the clan boys because you wanted to give Maki some space. You felt him approaching, it would be impossible not to recognize that aroma. You looked up until he was right in front of you.

"Do you need something?"

"yes, aren't you supposed to be spending the break with me?"

"And aren't you supposed to be spending the break with one of your girlfriends?" You didn't know where that had come from but you didn't think about it before you said it.

"hmmm, no?" He didn't understand what you were talking about either, although it was common to see him with some girls on break either because he was very friendly or just a natural flirt without realizing it, the reality is that none of them mattered too much to him, but in the same way he didn't question it much, there would be a long time later, now the important thing was to know what was happening to you. "Are you going to talk to me or are you going to keep hiding like the little bat you are?"

"I'm not hiding, I just want to be alone." In a way you were hiding, but weakness was a human flaw and you weren't a weak human.

"Yeah, sure." He sat in front of you, it was hard to try to lie, wolves were perceptive, much more so than vampires. "What's going on, pretty?"

You rolled your eyes, you hated that he was so insistent, what happened to you was not his problem. "Yuji, just go away."

"Don't pull out your fangs, I really want to know if there's anything I can help you with."

"Believe me that a dog would never be my first choice to ask for help, I don't need it from you or anyone else because I'm perfectly fine." You used to become abrupt and rude when someone questioned you, you couldn't help it, it was part of you and even the times you tried to change it was impossible.

"Leave that behind, maybe vampires don't care about anything more than being cold and greedy but wolves can feel the emotions, maybe I don't know what but I know something is wrong."

"emotions." You repeated scoffing bitterly. "There is nothing more simple and vain, whoever is not able to control his emotions is immediately inferior." Emotions were a human flaw and you weren't human and you didn't want to be flawed, emotions were something you could ignore.

"Emotions are important, it's what makes you feel alive."

"I'm not alive." You weren't, not for a long time. You had forgotten what it felt like to be human because even surrounding yourself with a lot of them every day, you were unable to be and feel like one.

"yeah but-"

"Let me alone Yuji. I needed to hunt, you helped me, we can pretend none of this happened."

Yuji didn't understand, it really seemed like you had enjoyed spending time with him, no, he knew you had but now you were acting surly and cold again as if you hadn't scratched his belly with a silly smile on your lips.

"No."

Your frown only got deeper, normally it was easy for you to howl at the others but now here he was insisting.

"What do you mean by “no”?"

"I mean, we're going to talk, you're going to tell me what's bothering you in that pretty little head of yours and you're going to learn how to express your feelings."

You let out a  scoff with disbelief and sarcasm. "Who do you think you are to tell me what to do? Dou you know who I am?"

"yeah yeah Vampire princess, now start talking, how do you feel today?"

"Stop playing psychologist Yuji, I'm not a stupid human."

He shrugged his shoulders and with all the tranquility in the world dared to say what for you was the worst insult. "Well, you're acting like one right now."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Humans are stubborn and mulish that's how you're acting right now." You knew exactly what he was doing and you hated it so much because it was really working on you.

"Fine! we're going to talk about feelings."

A small smile appeared on Yuji's lips, even if you always act arrogant and your superiority complex was getting bigger and bigger, the reality is that you weren't much different from any other teenage girl.

"Okay, start." You were going to show him that you weren't like a stupid human scared by stupid feelings.

"I-" And your mind got blocked, what were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to feel? Your mouth was unable to say anything. "I'm just-"

Yuji came closer to you by sitting next to you and leaning against the trunk as well.

"Take your time."

"Don't tell me what to do."  He chuckled gently, his hand went to your head and practically forced you to lean against his chest, You would have complained if it wasn't for how warm he was, it was nice in a annoying way.

"Just relax pretty, I'm here for listen to you."

"It's just- i... You know." It was frustrating the way you can't talk right now, you hate it so much. "Well-" You leaned more towards Yuji practically burying your face in his chest, he stroked your hair, you wanted to tell him to stop and that you were not a dog but it felt too good. "Well, you know vampires and wolves have never gotten along." He hummed softly. "Well, Maki, my sis- my clan mate, she well... It doesn't care right know but the point is she said some things that I didn't like and And I said things that I know I shouldn't have said but I was angry and she was too." You sigh with a small pause. "And we haven't talked again yet."

"So that's what's eating away at you, pretty?"

You nuzzled your face against yuji's chest, the strange smell that you never managed to identify very well but that was different from the rest of the wolves turned out to be quite pleasant. "Mmhhh, maybe." You muttered softly

"And have you thought about talking to her? Maybe you should be the one to take the first step." No, that was a resounding no, you refused to take the first step, what happens if she didn't forgive you? You weren't going to go through that.

"It's not that easy."

"Sure? How many times have you done it before?"

"Well..." 0 but who cares, whether the number is 0 or 100, was still a no for you. You pulled away from Yuji so that you could see his face again. "That's not the point."

"The point is that you miss your sister and you want to go back to what you used to but without fixing the problem." You kept quiet because that's exactly what was happening, you knew how ridiculous it could be but you didn't want anyone to tell you.

Yuji pinched your cheek. "Oh, look at you pouting."

"i'm not!" If you had any blood in your veins, your cheeks would probably have turned red with embarrassment.

"Of course you are, pretty, you're so cute." You slapped his hand off your cheek.

"Shut up." And he laughed at how grumpy you are.

You were used to being feared and respected, but Yuji treated you in a way that sometimes you felt like your dead heart might beat again.

But that doesn't mean anything, right?

He is still a flea dog and if you had been related to him it was only because of the blood, blood that you began to miss because of your small solitary episode of 4 days in which you did not go hunting. 

You came home determined to take the initiative and talk to Maki but as soon as you walked into the house and saw her sitting on the large red velvet sofa, you froze.

"You're late and smelling like a dog, wonderful." Maki soon attacked you again.

"Shut up Maki." You didn't want to fight her again because you knew she would say things you didn't want to hear and that you would say things you would regret later.

"i'm just saying." She got off the couch and left you alone, well, maybe things wouldn't be fixed soon, you hated feeling that way.

"Oh, forbidden love, my favorite." you turned your head, at the top of the stairs was Satoru looking at you with a mocking smile.

"There is no forbidden love." Your romantic interest in Yuji was nonexistent, or at least that's what you repeated to yourself.

"A wolf and A Vampire sounds like an interesting story." He was the leader of the clan, he should be upset instead of joking and playing.

"An impossible story too."

"Not so impossible, I have the perfect example in front of me, I like that boy, he seems good." He came downstairs approaching you, his annoying voice only making you more and more tense.  "Maybe he'll take away your bitterness, Yn." He laughed at you in your face, he wasn't being bad, he was just being Satoru.

"There's nothing going on."

"Why are you so angry? I'm not Judging you." But he was mocking you and you hate that.

"Shut up, I don't like Yuji and he don't likes me."

"Keep saying that but I know enough, You've never gotten along with wolves, I don't really think you've ever had friends outside the clan."

He was right, You had always stayed away, practically hidden, you didn't relate to anyone and you didn't get You had always stayed away, practically hidden, you didn't relate to anyone but Yuji.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe not, maybe you should stop being so stubborn." He tapped you on the forehead With his finger. "And don't listen to Maki, she's worried, but I know she'll figure things out soon."

Satoru could be an annoying and grumpy idiot most of the time but the reality is that he was a wise man, maybe it was the centuries of experience, maybe it was that there was some intelligence in that idiot but whenever he gave advice you took it.

That night you thought about many things, about your ex-life, about your reality not so new as a vampire, about Maki and Yuji, you thought a lot about Yuji. He was really nice, he was funny, warm and you missed the feel of his hands in your hair.

You didn't know it was going to happen, but you were more worried now than you had been in decades.

[bucksdaffy]

listen, maybe i'm just delusional. maybe i'm too optimistic for my own good. but i don't really care at the moment because i truly feel like tommy is meant to be it for buck.

like i find it so hard to believe tim and co would create such a compelling love interest for buck, someone so deeply interwoven into the fabric of this show, only to decide that buck actually needs someone else. and i find it especially hard to believe considering how they framed the breakup.

"i love you so much it scares me. because why on earth would you choose me? there are so many people better for you, and maybe you don't see it yet, but when you get to know the real me you'll know. and you'll run."

and after letting buck mope for a while, they'll push him to start dating again. they'll put him out there, and through trial and error, he'll figure himself out–but no one will compare to tommy. and when they finally bring them back together, hopefully in a life-or-death situation, they'll make buck prove tommy wrong.

he'll tell him that actually no–i've spent some time away from you, and all it's done is make me realize how much i want you by my side. i'm bisexual. kinsey scale 2. i'm generally more attracted to women, but since meeting you, i can't imagine ending up with one. because you are the only one that i want. and yes, you were my first, but i'm confident that we can make this work. you may not be my in-between, but i'm certain you are my last. please don't give up on us before we even try.

and tommy will take the chance. because they've shown already that tommy truly does love buck–boils and all. he's seen him at his worst, and he was still willing to choose him. he'll take it because he'll realize that buck might truly love him too. he'll see that while buck admires him, he also sees him for who he really is. he knows about his not-so-perfect past, but it doesn't matter, because the tommy he is now is not the tommy he once was. he knows he's not perfect, and that's okay, because buck isn't looking for perfection–he's looking for something real. and tommy checks all his boxes.

you see the potential, right? you can't tell me tim and co didn't strike gold with tommy as a love interest for buck, and you can't tell me they aren't aware of it. the choices they have made so far feel too deliberate to be coincidental. and i just find it so hard to believe they would throw it all away just like that. you don't throw it all away just like that. you'd have to be really fucking stupid to consciously get rid of such a compelling story.

[bluepandastarfish]

CaitVi x Reader Angst 3

warnings: sadness still, depression maybe, spelling mistakes

shorter one, sorry, things will start looking up soon (or will they?)

part 1, part 2

The three of you weren't happy separate, that was for sure. Vi was losing herself in every way she wanted to after losing you and caitlyn and, although the two of you lived together, both you and caitlyn were also losing yourselves in different ways. You could no longer accurately tell when something was a daydream or not, the other night you'd had a dream of caitlyn grabbing you and demanding you act like yourself again only for her to have no similar reactions the following nights. 

Caitlyn was throwing herself into her ‘work’ which was more of a manhunt and segregation scheme than anything else, one she knew you’d object to if you were aware enough. Maybe that was another reason for her to do it all, not only was she passionately angry and intent on finding jinx and bringing her to justice, but doing something so dramatic to get a reaction out of you sounded quite pleasant at the time. It was something she laid next to you at night thinking about, why she was numb to the issues she was selfishly causing and why the only thing she could feel was rage. 

She couldn't tell who the rage was directed at anymore, jinx was certainly some of it but sometimes she found herself wanting to scream at you till you cried because at least then that was better then the horrid nothing you’d been giving her. And Vi as well, somehow she was angry at her for… well, for stopping her when she was so close to jinx but even then caitlyn was somehow self aware enough now to know that was a stupid excuse. Angry at multiple people for one person's misdeed, and then continuing to take it out on the people around her who had nothing to do with it. 

Maybe if she hadn’t involved herself with Vi and Zaun in the first place her mother would be alive. Maybe she would be happy with you in your very own home with you supporting her every step of the way through her career and homelife. But Vi wouldnt be there, and something would be missing, just like it was now. So in the end, perhaps caitlyn was most angry with herself. 

And now was another night of silence between you both. You let yourself drift off while Caitlyn remained aware. You let yourself imagine that Vi was happy somewhere else, that she wasn't letting herself get hurt and she’d found someone who looked after her the way you wished you could.and for a moment you smiled to yourself when you saw her grin in your mind, even if it was at the imaginary woman you'd made for he . 

And then Caitlyn spoke to you for the first time in weeks. 

“Are you awake?” she whispered, not having moved from her position facing the ceiling and yet somehow knowing you were awake so she could continue. “You don't have to speak to me, I just want to know you ok.” 

Her tone was soft, as if she were speaking to a child. You would be angry at her- either for interrupting your fantasy or for driving Vi away in the first place- but right now you felt like every emotion you'd been holding out on was trying to break through the wall. You didn't speak, don't breathe any differently. 

She sighed to herself. “Im- i just want us to be ok.” and now it was less about being soft for you, more about being as quiet as possible so that you wouldn't hear the sob waiting to erupt from her. “I was stupid, I ruined it, didn't i?” 

It didn't sound like a question she really wanted answered, probably because she already knew the answer herself. 

And you fully intended on fading back into your daydream before she spoke again. 

“I love you” 

before, even before Vi, you always said it back. It wasn’t something that either of you took lightly with each other, love was a commitment and a promise. 

Your jaw shook uncontrollably and the wall crumbled. 

It was nonsensical, the words that left you when caitlyn rushed to hug you from behind. You’d never felt so small, not even when Vi screamed at you to leave her and you stupidly listened, it wasn't something you had fantasized about, breaking down for caitlyn, all of those thoughts had been dedicated to the women you love and their happiness. Even Caitlyn screaming at you would’ve gained a reaction and, in turn, she would've been satisfied. 

And you think to yourself as you lay there, held firmly in Caitlyn's grip, that despite the self hate for leaving Vi in the ring, you’d let yourself drown in your emotions a thousand times over if it got them both to hug you one last time.

[a-sound-sol]

¹⁾ “don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again.”

from the prompt list :)

fuck about it // k. bakugou

quirkless au, MDNI, hints of nsfw, enemies -> fwb -> lovers

a/n: inspo: waterparks, chappell roan, and bad bunny !!! shout out to sydsuki/kidney <33

This summer was going to be different, that's what you told yourself.

Last year, you fell victim to toned abs and biceps, on the most infuriating man you had ever met. He angered you and frustrated you, he always had. You've known Katsuki Bakugou since middle school, and you've always despised him.

Until that night at the beach, you had done your best to avoid even being alone with him.

But the bonfire sparked something else in you, perhaps in him too.

All your friends had gathered by the shore to celebrate the end of college, finals finished and degrees in hand. You spent the night laughing with your friends, relieved the stress of school had finally ended.

As Denki and Mina slowly convinced everyone else to go swimming, you were left with Katsuki. His eyes flicked from the fire to meet yours.

"You look good tonight," he subtly bit his lower lip, eyes falling to your hips before meeting your gaze again.

"Okay? Where's the insult?" you bark back. You were adults, but that didn't mean he didn't still piss you off to no degree.

"No insult, just admiring the view." He smirked and moved around the fire, sitting next to you.

You tried to hold your composure, you really did. But you were starting to sweat, and your face was heating up.

"You know yn, you've always been a bit of a brat. Can't believe you won't look at me still. Not the same person I used to be." Katsuki mumbles, his mouth a bit too close to your ear. The hairs on your neck stood up.

"You'll always be the jerk from middle school to me, Katsuki." You bite back. He grips your chin gently, forcing you to look into his eyes. "'M not that guy. You've known that for a while."

Your eyes shoot open, almost getting lost in his. You mentally curse yourself, you can't fall for that shit again. Sure, you'd had a crush on Katsuki when you first met, but it's not like he ever felt the same. Plus, he's a jerk... right?

"Come on, let me prove it to you," he said before pressing his lips against your neck, brushing them softly against your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in the pleasure, in his touch.

When he looked into your eyes, you saw his darkening as you wrapped your arm around his neck. "Parents've got a beach house up the road..." he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Wanna come with me?"

You hate how quickly you nodded your head, and how fast he was able to get your clothes off. You hated how good it felt to be with him. You hated it so much, you hadn't spoken since last summer.

Until today.

You agreed to meet up with the crew. Schedules had been harder to align the past year, with everyone's careers taking off in different directions. You decide to show up late, hoping Katsuki had decided to leave early, since he's always on time.

Your face falls when you walk into Yaoyarozu's mansion, and the first face you see is that spikey haired jerk. He's standing against the wall, stirring a glass of whiskey, facing the door. He's been waiting for you.

He looks up from his drink to meet you with a smug smirk. “Don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again."

“Shut the fuck up Kats. You know you had just as much fun as I did.” You reply, walking up to him. There was a fire in your step, one you didn't even track. Your chest was suddenly pressed against his, his arm snaking around your waist.

"You know, the extras are all outside. Nobody would even hear us," he whispers, nibbling your earlobe as your body shakes slightly in anticipation.

"Kats, come on, I came to see everyone, not you." You whine, knowing you're feeling weak in the knees already.

"Well, I only came to see you. 'M patient though. Waited for you all year." He blushes, and for a moment, you question what he means by that. He'd probably hooked up with plenty of people since you last saw him... right?

"W-wait, Kats.... waited for me.... meaning...?"

"You know exactly what I mean, dummy." He takes your hand, rubbing his fingers across your knuckles. "Been waiting for you for years at this point."

[nightscythe]

light sides of the primarchs' relationships

happy valentine’s day!! this one is a bit happier than the 'dark sides' one for obvious reasons. as always just my opinion. if there is anything else you would like to see, let me know! enjoy!!

18+, it's not necessarily nsfw but suggestive themes. based on pre-heresy interpretations.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

the lion: the ultimate protector. you'd never feel unsafe in his presence. not just from legitimate threats, but.. waking up in the morning to find his arms around you, eyes watching you, lips ghosting your hair as though he would never be able to let you go. you're minding your own business reading a book or listening to others talk, and even though he's on the other side of the room he's still watching, calculating, making sure every single person near you is treating you well. if anyone did try anything? nice knowing them. you become his priority. his endless war. nothing will ever harm you again, except maybe him, on his endless war with making you feel every ounce of pleasure the universe can offer. ;)

fulgrim: is also your best friend, but not in the typical guy way. he's literally invested in every single one of your stories, he knows everyone's little secret, he comes back to you with tales he's learnt and weekly scandalous gossip. he knows everything about you. it's not even deliberate either, he's just so in sync with you that he could take a wild guess and still get it right. nights together can feature many things, all of which are thoroughly enjoyed due to his ability to perfect every single thing he does, but knowing there will never be a time you cannot talk to him about something? knowing he'd give you the best advice, more accurate responses, it's very comforting.

perty: you know everything with him is genuine. he would never lie to you, and that may be hard to swallow at first, but really? its a godsend. he'd not try to make you feel better by telling you a slight truth, he'd rather help you to move past it, work on the issue, etc. and that's why, a long way down the line when he does give you infrequent but honest words about his love for you, it means more than anything. there is not someone in the galaxy that you could trust more than this man, not with your life, your secrets, or your heart. and really, it would only ever get stronger over time.

the khan: enjoyably unpredictable. a man who values freedom always would be. he uses his instincts in everything and therefore it may not always be easy to know what he's going to do next. would encourage you to do things you may never have thought about, shows you new parts of the galaxy and introduces you to topics and concepts you knew nothing about before him. for that reason, he's an absolute storm when you are alone. completely unpredictable and completely dedicated to pleasing you. he's also just enjoyable to be around. he may be a touch arrogant and quick tempered, but he's witty, sarcastic, and excellent with his successful attempts to rile you up with teases.

leman: his love is very pure and built on a huge amount of respect. small gifts, tokens of appreciation, oh its all coming out with him. 'made me think of you' type thing and it's the most beautifully designed canvas that you know he wouldn't have just stumbled across. of course this is very different to how everyone else sees him, and no one would believe you. uses that to his advantage. loses all sense of practicality though when it comes to you and would probably show you 110% of his emotions even when he didn't intend to. his heart is in it, no half measures, you're his entire world now and as long as you will let him, he will love you for the rest of his life.

dorn: he is cold, but there is that burning fire that rages beneath. and when the cracks are fully formed? its impossible to ignore. he will not say I love you, but show you he loves you. there are never ups and downs, no maybes - its always a definite. if you need something? he gets it. you are worried about something? there is no need to worry for it any longer. he plans, he knows what to do to help you, he would never give reason to doubt that 1. he could protect you, and 2. his unwavering loyalty to you. does everything in his power to please you, particularly in the physical manner. when he's around, everything feels intense, and its oh so hard to ignore.

curze: he's trying. he is. you can see it each day. sometimes its not obvious, but he really does watch other people and try to imitate what they do to show you the love you deserve. because in his mind? you deserve it all. would he ever tell you that. no. he'd find it stupid. he'd rather keep it all to himself. but sometimes he bottles too much inside and it all comes out, all at once, every feeling he has. in that moment he just needs someone to hold him, reassure him, and be there to feel the love that follows. of course it isn't conventional, but even if he just taught you tarot, explained his twisted thoughts, tried to show you your fate - he's sharing a part of him that he'd not let another see.

sanguinius: effortlessly devoted, but not in the obsessive, overbearing way. you can see it in his eyes. he doesn't need to worship the ground you walk on or call in a choir to sing about you, you can just feel it. the small gestures. something so meaningful but so tiny that it almost snaps reality. helping you to braid your hair. trying his best to help you with something that he could have just ignored. listening to you with intent - not because he loves you so much he doesn't want to look away, but because he wants to hear you. listen to you. understand everything he can about you. it's so natural to him and warms you every time. something something doesn't care what time of the month it is either.

ferrus: always pushes you to be the best version of yourself. of course I have covered the bad side of this, but provided it's tamed, he understands there are limits, it can be rewarding. he will always reassure you that he doesn't need you to be perfect to love you, and would always encourage you to make decisions which benefited you - not anyone else. you'd also get to see his emotions, a rarity, knowing he only trusts so many to see him like that. a national accompaniment to this is that he pays a lot of attention to you. knows you extremely well. so if you ever argue, or don't talk for whatever reason.. be sure to engage the full ferrus apology - bedroom and all. crafts you really nice things too (of course)

angron: love is the only quiet he gets from pain. when you see him at ease, even for only a few moments, you can rest assured knowing that you were helping him. when he holds your hand, when he stands before you and defends you with his whole being, when he lets you fall into his arms and hesitantly wraps them around you. you know then that it's true. because he wouldn't do that for anyone else, and he couldn't physically do that if he did not have a moment of reprieve. and he knew as well that you gave him a chance, saw him for more than what everyone else did. that means more to him that anything.

rob: truly appreciates you. like, will show you, will make sure you know, will do anything in his power to make sure you're aware that the only reason he has an ounce of sanity left is because of you. you're the only person he will pause everything for, he will turn everything off to listen to you and your thoughts, he will actively seek your opinion on things he knows you would be happy to give it on, etctec. he just treats you like an equal. and considering who he is, that may be hard. but he does value you. yes he is pulled in every direction by all his duties but he knows where the limit is, and if either of you are reaching it, he will do what he can to make sure you feel happy and secure.

morty: it's those quiet moments that really stand out. when he lets his guard down for just a second, when he finally trusts you and knows that he would give his life for you until the very end. it wouldn't be easy for him to admit, and he probably never would admit it, but that one moment where he finally relaxes his shoulders and just lets you carry his burdens with him? it really does show a lot. and he would give everything for you. not even an ounce would be spared. it's easy to see it when he says it, that he loves you, even if he doesn't know the true meaning of the word. may not be conventional love, but to him, its everything.

magnus: there is not another who could love as much as he could. it's that simple. he's so utterly in love with you that he'd move heaven and earth just to see you smile. for a man with so many things going on, so many things to remember and do, he still keeps you at the very top of everything. finds little things for you that he'd think you like. recounts stories to see your smile. lays beside you and holds your hand whilst you tell him what's on your mind. it's routine for him, he does it without even thinking. nothing, and that is a hard nothing, will ever make him as happy as you do, and even when you're not around everyone hears your name, little snippets of his love for you, how much you mean to him, etc. he's so enamoured, so trusting, so in awe, that everything you do means something to him.

horus: incredibly intuitive and knows what you need before you do. has the tea and some fruit in his hands before you'd even mentioned you were thinking of having some. had someone prepare you a bath before you even said you were stressed. brought you some flowers when you were feeling down. cancels all his plans because you need someone with you. he does it to show he cares, knowing that sometimes he can be distant or busy, and it can be incredibly effective. also holds you incredibly tight. like your hand, when he embraces you, etcetc, it's like you're his security blanket in a way, which seems stupid because why does he need one, but actually he finds a lot of comfort in your presence.

lorgar: perfect if you want to be worshipped. that's how he'd treat you. and yes this has a dark side. but limited, not indulged or used for bad purposes, a good balance can be met. he's soft. his world would crumble without you. his exterior and how others view him is so different to what he's like with you that it seems wrong. but you are his everything. he would tell you it every day. he'd make sure you never forgot it. it may not be evidential to everyone, he's not proclaiming his love and devotion to anyone he sees, but to you its obvious. a silent prayer for your protection each day. for your good health. for anything he can do for you. and you'd know he'd burn worlds for you - just use that for the right purposes.

vulkan: a kind soul meant for love. he's not obsessed and devoted. he's not silent and brooding. he's what you think of when you have soulmate in mind. it seems to just come natural to him. he's your best friend, your lover, your everything - and he takes pride in that. he'd not need to burn worlds for you, he'd not watch you from the other side of the room without a world, he'd be beside you with his hand gently rested on you. it's just... normal? is that bad to say? but like the version of normal you always wanted, the normal in romance novels which warped our perceptions of relationships. you know. cute.

corax: incredibly loyal. quietly loving you from a distance until he's with you, then he's far more passionate and open. he's not one to have elaborate gestures done in your name, he probably wouldn't even do more than speak in a normal tone whenever others are around. but you know he's there. a brush of your hand with his when you look uncomfortable or worried. a glance in your direction every so often if you are separated. he'd always find his way back to you though, and you always know he's there at your side. and yes, very passionate when it's just you two, so much so you'd have first doubted it was the same person. he just saves it all for you. especially few things he's picked up along the way he thinks you may enjoy.

alpharius: you could never doubt his love. he'd never let you. it's so obvious that it's what makes telling him apart so simple. he just can't deny it when he's around you, he can't resist it at all. love is in everything he does. his touches as he walks past. his names for you. his insistence on always having you in his arms. it can be endearing. it is nice knowing that you are so loved, never a doubt in your mind that he does care. and if you do doubt him? he will change that. you won't ever doubt him again. you don't ever need to worry about his love for you, it won't change. he'll never stop loving you.

˗ˏˋ 𓅰 ˎˊ˗