#I HOPE THEY EXPLODE AND RADIATION HITS ME

[dolphitos]

"我可以永远凝视你的艺术"

Thank you @pittdpeaches for ruining my mental health /jk. My heart went crazy on the last chapter and I went INSANE so I decided to finish once for all this drawing I have since september and never finished cuz of high school. Also that imma try to make more fanart of GAOCB, beware.

Fic:

also silly Mk sketch that's on Red's hair

[diazsdimples]

Hiiii James 💕💕💕💕

buddie + Why are you even here?

-❤️🪐

Hi Saturn!! I hope this is what you were looking for!

"Why are you even here?"

Eddie flinches at the ice in Buck's tone. It's not like he's never heard Buck angry before - there's been plenty of times where Buck's anger has been displayed, but always directed towards others. Never at him.

Eddie licks his lips and wills his mouth to work. It's hot out here, hotter than the hallway in Buck's apartment usually is. Eddie dimly wonders if he's coming down with a fever.

"Can- can I come in?" he asks tentatively. He clutches at his fingers, twisting them together in a way that's uncomfortable enough that it gives him something else to focus on besides the way his heart is thundering in his chest.

Buck stares at him, eyes dark and unreadable, his body language radiating an energy that makes Eddie's stomach twist into knots. He's got one foot braced in the door, leaning against the door jamb. Eddie feels trapped in the doorway, like a rabbit caught in a snare, waiting for the final blow to kill it.

He thinks Buck is going to say no, and honestly, Eddie wouldn't blame him. He's the last person Buck probably wants to see.

Except then, Buck steps aside, allowing Eddie to shuffle his way into the apartment. He shuts the door behind Eddie and the click of the lock engaging is louder than a gunshot in the otherwise silent apartment.

"I-"

Eddie stops, unsure of how to go about saying everything that he wants to. He's got no clue where to start, or if Buck even wants him to talk. Eddie just knows he needs to apologize, and explain, and beg for forgiveness if that's what it takes to get Buck back in his life.

Buck leans against the kitchen island and raises his eyebrows. He's waiting, waiting to see if Eddie will grovel, get down on his knees and plead Buck to forgive him. And he would, too. He's not beyond doing anything if it means he gets his Buck back.

But he hurt him. Eddie hurt Buck with his words, and he doesn't know how Buck could ever forgive him for it. He wanted to take them back the moment they'd left his mouth, hanging in the air like a poisonous gas. He'd watched Buck's face crumple, the light leave his body, and Eddie felt like he was going to throw up because it was him that did that to Buck.

"I was hoping we could talk," he finally manages. Buck drops his head and lets out a dry, derisive chuckle, and Eddie feels like all the air has been sucked from his lungs.

"What more is there to say?" Buck demands. "You were pretty clear earlier."

"I wasn't - I didn't - please, if you'd just let me explain-"

"Why? There's nothing to explain, Eddie, why should I listen to-"

"Because I love you!"

It's bursting from him before he can stop it, exploding from his chest with all the force of a tsunami, the words crashing through the space between them, and Buck recoils as though he's been physically hit.

"You - what?"

Eddie runs a hand through his hair, clutching at the strands and pulling. The gentle sting is enough to centre him, to give him a moment to focus and breathe, and figure out what the fuck he's going to say next.

"I love you, Buck," he repeats. "A-and I know what I said earlier. I panicked. I've never - I haven't ever, you know, been with a man or even considered that as a possibility before you, and I've spent years trying to convince myself that you didn't want me. That I wasn't good enough for you, or that I was too broken for you."

Buck lets out a wounded noise in the back of his throat at that, and Eddie can see tears threatening to spill over. His own throat is tight, making his voice high and constricted, but he presses on. He needs Buck to hear this. Tentatively, he takes a step forward, slowly closing the gap between them.

"A-and then you asked me out, and I was so scared, Buck! Because what if we tried this and you realised that I wasn't right for you, or my relationship trauma was too much for you, or something happened and we broke up. Because I can't lose you, Buck. You and Chris - you're everything to me. I can't live a life without you by my side, as my best friend or as my partner. So you asked me out and I - I panicked. I said no because I didn't want to fuck this up with you and then lose you. And I thought - I thought that maybe I could live with you angry at me but still my friend more than I could live knowing what it would be like to have you, but to never experience it again."

It's silent now. Buck stares at him with wide, glistening eyes, and Eddie feels like his skin is crawling with nerves. He's laid himself bare here, in front of Buck, bared his soul and his love and every deep, intimate part of him he'd hoped to hide, and now all he can do is hope that it was enough. That he wasn't too late.

Buck lets out a shuddering breath, and his shoulders slump. He looks exhausted, and Eddie wants nothing more than to reach out and hold him. But he can't. Not until Buck says something, and Eddie can find out if this is fixable or if he's already lost the most important person in his life.

"Eds," Buck sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're the biggest self-sacrificing idiot on the planet, you know that?"

"Yeah," Eddie laughs wetly, "so I've been told."

Buck takes a step towards him, and then another, until there's barely a foot between them. He can feel Buck's breath ghosting over his face, and there's something in his eyes that Eddie can't quite pick out. But he doesn't look angry. He looks... sad? Hopeful, maybe.

"You're more than enough for me," Buck whispers, reaching out to cup Eddie's face. Eddie sighs shakily as Buck's thumb strokes over his cheekbone, and he leans into the touch, his throat tightening as he fights back tears of his own.

"You always have been. And you would never lose me. I-I'm not going anywhere, Eddie. Because I love you too. I have done for years. You and Chris, you're my family. My life. So I would never let anything happen that would jeopardise that. Sure, we might have fights. It might be messy, b-but that's what relationships are, right? So we - we'd work it out together. "

Buck crooks a finger under Eddie's chin and tilts his head up, forcing eye contact. His thumb brushes over Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie lets out a shuddery breath.

"If - if you really don't want to, if you think we'd be better off as friends that's fine, I just -"

"No!" Eddie cuts in. It takes him by surprise but he's damned if he's going to fuck this up again. "No, I don't want that. I'm sorry I said I did, I'm sorry that I hurt you. I want you, Buck. Fuck, I need you."

Buck's hand slips from Eddie's chin and curves around the back of his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads rest against each other.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie, you can't just say things like that." His other hand comes up to cup Eddie's jaw, stroking over the days worth of stubble he's grown. "Can I - can I kiss you? Please?"

Eddie nods frantically, unable to get any words out past the lump in his throat, and then Buck is kissing him, his lips sliding against Eddie's and oh.

Oh.

The world tilts on its axis, spinning rapidly around him as everything he's ever known or believed crumbles, only to be rebuilt anew. It's just Buck's lips against his own, nothing more, and yet it feels like the whole universe is crashing into place. Like his entire life, everything he's gone through, the struggles, the pain, the loss, has led him to this exact moment.

The hand at the back of his neck slips up and tangles in his hair, holding him firmly in place, and Eddie lets out a quiet whimper, the sound swallowed up by Buck's mouth against his.

And then Buck pulls away, and Eddie's eyes snap open, a whine catching in his throat, until he sees the look on Buck's face. It's full of love and adoration and awe, and it takes Eddie's breath away.

"We're okay?" he breathes, and Buck nods, his bottom lip trembling. "I-I'm so sorry I hurt you, Buck. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Eddie. I will always forgive you, no matter what," Buck assures him.

"Can I kiss you again?"

"Please."

Eddie was such an idiot if he ever thought he could live without this. His best friend, his Buck, by his side forever. Because this is where they belong. They were made to be together, and this solidifies it. He will never let Buck go again. Not as long as they both live.

[cryptotheism]

Lilly: Good morning New Babel, you're listening to Screw Loose, your favorite early-morning exo rig and rig maintenance rig show this side of the white river, I'm Lilly.

The Bear: And I'm the Bear, and you- are on the air. What can we help you with?

Caller: Howdy girls! Togen, from the South Teykile. I've got a bit of a mystery for ya, I was hoping you could help me solve it.

Lilly: Oh lovely! I think we're ready to sleuth.

The Bear: What the problem doll?

Togen: So I'm a boatwright. About a month ago, I'm on the job in a Wylan Mastiff UD-940. I'm lifting a panel of ship-chitin that weighs maybe 1000 kilograms, and I can feel the exhaust channels getting hot.

The Bear: Uh oh.

Lilly: Uh oh indeed.

Togen: I figure I'm overcycling, but the Mastiff can pull 1000kg easy right? So I put down the panel, and suddenly, BOOM! Radiator explodes right out of the chassis! I can hear the I-bolts ping against field tech's facemask!

[Both hosts begin to laugh]

Lilly: Huh!?

The Bear: Okay okay hold on a second-

Togen: I've got an insulated undersuit, but the radiator is just full-on burning at this point. Now, I'm not about to jump into the Occimedian with my rig on, so I slam the emergency kill. So now I'm lyin there, facefirst on the dock, hollerin for the other idiots to put me out!

The Bear: You had an extinguisher right?

Lilly: Maybe someone had a drink?

Togen: Well...Okay so get this. The yard has an extinguisher. That's union. But before someone could grab it, one of the boys uh, relieves himself, on the radiator.

[The hosts are silent for a moment, but can't keep it going. Lilly snorts loudly as she laughs.]

Togen: Hey it worked! Problem is, the damn thing hasn't been running right ever since. I replaced the radiator that evening, but for some reason I'm only getting about 70, 80 percent torque when I lift, but its only from certain positions. I've taken the thing to two different shops at this point, and they both said that everything looked fine. I’m at the end of my rope here ladies, can you help me?

Lilly: Sleuthing hats on!

The Bear: Well sir, I think I know what your problem is. You set yourself on fire, and then someone pissed on you.

Lilly: Yeah! Just tell the boys at your local rig shop, they'll know what to do.

[The hosts pause for a moment, deliberating]

The Bear: Well damn Togen, you've given us two mysteries for the price of one.

Lilly: First, we gotta figure out why your radiator exploded. Then, we gotta figure out why your lift capacity is damaged. Okay, replacing the radiator was the right call, did you have them look at the recycler? 

Togen: Yeah, when the first guy said it was fine, I took it to the second shop, and they said the recycler was probably running cold in the early morning air, you know, building up heat in the radiator. 

[lilly scoffs]

The Bear: That guy didn’t know what he was talking about. The recycler generates a ton of heat. While your rig is live, they’re actually floating in coolant because they generate so much heat. 

Lilly: Hmmm. Did you have any custom work on the Mastiff before it exploded?

Togen: Yeah. Lets see…I had the 8-cell replaced with a 10-cell, added a fluid circulator, and full weatherizing. Tubes, seals, soles, the works. 

The Bear: The weatherizing, synthetic or biosynthetic?

Togen: Biosynthetic ma’am. 

The Bear: Here’s what I think happened. Whoever shopped your rig under-tightened the bolts, and used overripe sealant. See, the biosynth sealant that Wylan uses is self-repairing, and it feeds on heat. I bet that when they replaced your power supply, they left a gap, so the sealant started growing into your radiator channel, sealed it up like a pressure cooker and BOOM. 

Lilly: Okay love, when you try squatting to pick something up in the rig, is there chugging from the leg hydraulics? Or is it more like the force just hits a wall at 70%?

Togen: There’s definitely chugging.

The Bear: Have you checked the tubing rings? You might’ve vented some heat onto them during the explosion, caused a hairline breach?

Lilly: Bearie dear I have a hunch. If he burned the rings he’d know. They’d pop right out as soon as he tried to squat. Follow me here.

The Bear: Uh oh.

Lilly: [starting to laugh] No! Listen! Okay you said you added a fluid circulator right?

Togen: Yes ma’am.

Lilly: Listen! Okay! Love! Here’s what I think happened! So urine has both salt and uric acid in it right? Both corrosive substances. I’d bet my bonnet that when you hit your kill switch, it took a moment or two for the circulator to spin down. There was probably already some urine in your radiator. That urine had enough time to get circulated into your hydraulics, where it’s been sitting, corroding your internal glide sheathes. 

The Bear: [laughing] Oh my lord that has to be it. Yes. Yes! That has to be it! Here’s what you’re gonna do, doll. You’re gonna take it to the local garage. You’re ask them for a total flush. Your biosynthetics should heal within a week. 

Lilly: And while you’re there, have them check the I-bolts on the new radiator chassis! 

The Bear: How’s that sound doll?

Togen: Well gosh ladies, I’m gonna be honest. The boys at the shop yard have a betting pool on just what was wrong with the rig, and I think all of us might owe the two of you some money. Thank you so much!

[The hosts laugh]

The Bear: Good luck doll!

Lilly: Thanks for your call! 

[The show transitions to commercial]

(If you want to read the full novel in this universe, Amber Skies is linked in my pinned post)

[lila-lou]

✨ His second exception - Pt. 6/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben, Ben loosing his shit

Word Count: 7171

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 6 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As two weeks passed, you still didn’t feel ready. At home, Ben was still nice to you, trying his best to seem patient, but at work, the team had to deal with the grumpiest Ben ever. Not only had you denied him trying for another baby, but after so many weeks without intimacy, he was barely holding it together. The last two days, just seeing you bite your lip in thought was to make him hard, even in meetings. Just like right now.

Ben gripped the armrests of his chair so hard, his knuckles turned white. He tried to focus on Butcher’s report about tracking down the supe who helped Homelander, but his gaze kept drifting to you.

You were engrossed in the meeting, your brow furrowed in concentration. Ben admired the way your hair fell across your face, the way your lips moved when you were deep in thought. His frustration and desire simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment.

Ben’s focus was entirely on you, and he didn’t register Butcher’s words at first. Butcher, growing increasingly frustrated, finally snapped.

“Oi, Soldier Boy, can you stop eyefucking her and start paying attention?”, Butcher’s voice was sharp and irritated, cutting through the tension in the room.

Ben’s eyes snapped to Butcher, his jaw tightening. “What did you just say?”, he growled, his annoyance bubbling to the surface.

Butcher crossed his arms, unperturbed by Ben’s glare. “You heard me. We need you focused. This isn’t the time for distractions”.

Ben’s grip on the armrests tightened further, the leather creaking under the pressure. He took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “Fine”, he muttered through gritted teeth. “Fucking continue then”.

Butcher shot him a warning look before turning back to the rest of the team, resuming his report. “As I was saying, we’ve tracked down the supes who helped Homelander. They’re holed up in a compound just outside the city. We’ll need to move fast and hit hard”.

You could feel the tension radiating off Ben, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the meeting. You glanced at him, biting your lip nervously, and saw the raw frustration in his eyes. It was a reminder of the strain your relationship was under, and you felt a pang of guilt.

Butcher continued outlining the plan, detailing the roles each team member would play. Ben, still visibly tense, tried to pay attention, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you.

Frenchie eyed the two of you, sensing the tension radiating from Ben. He couldn’t help but grin slightly, though he tried to hide it. The situation was awkward, and the underlying issues between you and Ben were evident to everyone in the room.

As Butcher continued, Frenchie leaned over to MM and whispered, “Mon ami, it looks like Soldier Boy might explode any second now”.

MM glanced at Ben and then at you, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I noticed. Let’s hope he keeps it together long enough to get through this mission”.

Butcher wrapped up the briefing, emphasizing the urgency and danger of the mission ahead. “Alright, everyone, be ready to move out. No room for mistakes”.

As everyone stood up, Butcher cast a sardonic glance towards Ben. “So, you gonna bow down and join us for this mission?”, he asked sarcastically, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Butcher’s tone. He shot you a brief glance, his frustration evident but masked by a steely resolve. “Yeah, yeah, I’m in”, he muttered, nodding towards Butcher as he rose from his seat.

Butcher’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push further. “Good. Just try to keep your head in the game, mate. We need everyone at their best”.

Ben clenched his jaw, suppressing a retort. He knew Butcher was right, even if the way he said it grated on his nerves. He turned to you, his eyes softening for a moment. “We’ll talk later”, he said quietly, his hand brushing yours briefly before he walked out of the room.

As the team dispersed, Frenchie approached you, a knowing smile on his face. “Tough day, eh?”, he remarked, his tone light but sympathetic.

You sighed, nodding. “You could say that. It’s just…complicated”.

Frenchie, sensing there was more to the story, dug a little deeper. “You wanna tell me why Soldier Boy is a ticking time bomb right now?”, he asked, his tone still light but with genuine curiosity.

You sighed, trying to find the right words. “It’s a bit complicated, Frenchie. Things have been…strained between us”.

Frenchie raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Complicated how?”, he asked, leaning in slightly.

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “We’ve been dealing with a lot of personal stuff. It’s not just about the missions. It’s…everything”.

Frenchie gave you a knowing look, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well, you know, a nice blow job and a sweet pussy always ease a man off”, he said with a chuckle, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his bluntness and elbowed him lightly in the stomach. Frenchie let out a playful grunt, rubbing the spot where you had jabbed him.

“Hey, just trying to hel,,” he said with a grin, but before you could respond, MM came back into the room, looking slightly annoyed.

“What the hell is taking you so long, Frenchie?”, MM snapped, crossing his arms.

Frenchie raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just having a chat with our friend here”, he replied innocently, casting a glance at you.

MM rolled his eyes and gestured for Frenchie to follow him. “Well, hurry up. We’ve got work to do”.

Frenchie gave you a wink before turning to follow MM out of the room. “Catch you later”, he said over his shoulder.

You waited for what felt like an eternity at the tower, diligently doing your work, but Ben and the team didn’t show up. Eventually, you decided to head back home, texting Ben that you would wait for him there. After a long, relaxing bath, you made dinner, hoping that he would walk through the door any moment. But as the minutes ticked by, Ben still wasn’t home and hadn’t texted you back.

Worried, you picked up the phone and called Annie, hoping to get some information about the mission. She answered on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”, Annie asked, her tone light and friendly.

“Hey, Annie. I was just wondering if the mission is done. Have you seen Ben?”, you asked, trying to keep your voice casual.

Annie hesitated for a moment before replying, “Yeah, the mission wrapped up about two hours ago. Ben should have been home by now”.

Your heart sank at her words. “Thanks, Annie. I appreciate it”.

“No problem. If you need anything, just let me know”, she said before hanging up.

You put down the phone, your worry turning into frustration and concern. Where could he be? You finished cooking dinner, hoping that he would walk through the door soon, but as the hours passed, there was still no sign of him.

Eventually, you sat down on the couch, your mind racing with possibilities. You tried to keep calm, but the uncertainty was eating at you. You grabbed your phone again, staring at Ben’s number, debating whether to call him. Just as you were about to hit the call button, you heard the front door open.

Ben walked in, looking exhausted and disheveled. Relief washed over you, quickly followed by a surge of anger.

“Where have you been?”, you demanded, standing up and crossing your arms.

Ben raised an eyebrow at your tone, his expression darkening. “Come again?”, he said, his voice low and threatening. The undercurrent of tension was palpable, signaling that he wasn’t in the mood for confrontation and didn’t appreciate your disrespectful tone.

But you weren’t backing down. The worry and frustration that had built up all evening surged to the forefront. “I said, where have you been?”, you repeated, your voice firmer. “I’ve been worried sick, Ben. The least you could have done is texted me”.

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “I needed some time alone. Do I need to fucking ask for permission now?”.

“No, you don’t need permission. But I deserve to know if you’re okay, especially after a mission. We’re supposed to be a team, Ben. You can’t just disappear without a word”.

Ben’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. A lot of words hung on his tongue right now, each one worse than the other as he watched you. You had been testing his patience for weeks, and now here you were, causing a scene and muttering about being a team when everything you had done over the last weeks seemed to exclude him and his feelings.

“You want to talk about being a team?”, he growled, his voice barely controlled. “Where was the teamwork when you shut me out for the past weeks? When you acted like I wasn’t going through this too?”.

Your eyes widened, the harshness of his words hitting you hard. “Ben, I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I’ve been struggling to cope with everything that happened.. I thought..we talked about that already”, you said, your voice wavering.

He scoffed, taking another step closer. “And you think I haven’t? You think it’s been easy for me to watch you pull away, to feel helpless while you push me out of your life? I needed you too, but you were too wrapped up in your own pain to notice”.

Tears welled up in your eyes, the guilt and frustration overwhelming. “I didn’t mean to, Ben. I’ve been trying to deal with it all, but it’s been so hard”.

Ben’s anger boiled over, his voice rising to a yell. “Don’t you dare start crying now!”, he shouted, his frustration and hurt pouring out. “I’ve given you everything! I’ve done everything for you, tried to change, become a better person for you, and what do I get in return? Fucking nothing!”.

You flinched at his words, the sheer intensity of his emotion crashing over you like a wave. The tears that had welled up in your eyes spilled over, but you tried to hold yourself together. “Ben, please”, you pleaded, your voice trembling. “I never meant to make you feel this way. I’m just so lost right now”.

Ben’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. “And you think I’m not? You think this hasn’t torn me apart too? Every day, I wake up hoping things will get better, that you’ll let me in, but you keep pushing me away!”.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to reach him. “Ben, I know you’re hurting too, and I’m so sorry for shutting you out. I’ve been drowning in my own grief, and I didn’t know how to let you in”.

His eyes blazed with pain and frustration as he snapped, “It was my baby too! It was all I ever wanted, you and a bunch of kids. Losing our baby was just as bad for me as it was for you, but drowning in grief and living in a shell isn’t the right way to deal with it”.

You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, and it broke your heart. “I’m sorry, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “Two weeks ago, you were so close to letting me back in, but these last two weeks, you’ve been retreating into your shell again. I can’t fucking take it anymore”.

Tears kept streaming down your face, but Ben’s anger was too strong to soften like he always did when you cried. His frustration had reached a boiling point, and he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Every time I try to be there for you, to pull you out of that dark place, you just retreat further”, he continued, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve tried to be patient, to give you space, but it feels like I’m the only one fighting for us!”.

You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. “I know, Ben. I know I’ve been shutting you out, but it’s not because I don’t love you. I do. I’m just so scared of losing you, of losing everything again”.

His expression softened just a fraction, but his anger was still palpable. “You’re not going to lose me”, he said through gritted teeth. “But if you keep pushing me away, you’re going to make that fear a reality”.

You reached out, grabbing his hands despite their clenched state. “I don’t want that”, you pleaded.

He looked down at your hands, your touch grounding him, but his eyes remained fierce. “Then stop fucking running away from me. Stop shutting me out. Let me in, completely”.

You nodded, your tears still falling.

It took a while before Ben finally gave in. His heavy sigh echoed in the room, a release of some of the pent-up frustration and pain he had been holding onto. Slowly, he laid his arms around your smaller frame, pulling you close and pressing you against him.

You felt his body relax slightly as he held you, the tension between you starting to ease just a bit. The warmth of his embrace provided a small measure of comfort, and you buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Ben”, you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “I’ll do better. I promise”.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. “I just want us to be okay”, he said softly, the anger in his voice replaced by a deep, weary sadness.

You swallowed hard, sniffing against his chest. You stood like that for a while, the weight of your emotions finally starting to lift. After a few moments, Ben loosened his grip around you, pulling back slightly.

“I need to shower”, he mumbled, his voice still heavy with the remnants of his earlier frustration.

It was only then that you truly noticed the state he was in. His suit was covered in blood, and even his face had smudges of it. You hadn’t realized how intense the mission had been, too caught up in your own worry and the confrontation between you.

“Ben, you’re covered in blood”, you said softly, your eyes wide with concern.

He nodded, his expression weary. “Yeah, it was a rough one. I didn’t want to bring it up before”.

You reached out, gently touching his arm. “Go shower. I’ll get dinner ready”.

Ben walked away towards the bathroom, and you made your way back to the kitchen where you had stopped preparing food earlier. As you resumed your task, the weight of Ben’s words hung heavily in your mind. The lasagna was soon in the oven, and you found yourself staring at the oven door, lost in thought.

Seeing Ben so vulnerable and hurt broke your heart. You knew he was suffering too after what happened to your baby, but you hadn’t fully grasped the extent of his pain until now. The realization that he didn’t know what to do anymore was overwhelming. You had been so wrapped up in your own grief that you hadn’t considered how deeply it was affecting him.

You knew you had been pretty selfish, and guilt gnawed at you. Ben had been trying so hard to hold everything together, to be strong for both of you, and you had been pushing him away. You realized that if you didn’t start to push yourself to heal, for his sake and for the sake of your relationship, you might lose him.

Taking a deep breath, you resolved to be more present, to let Ben in, and to work through your grief together. It wouldn’t be easy, but you loved him too much to let this pain tear you apart.

When the lasagna was done, you set the table, the normalcy of the routine offering a small comfort. As you heard the bathroom door open, you turned to see Ben entering the kitchen, dressed in fresh clothes, looking slightly more at ease.

“Dinner’s ready”, you said, offering him a small smile.

He returned the smile, though it was tinged with weariness. “Smells good”, he said, taking a seat at the table.

You served the lasagna, and for a few moments, the silence was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the warmth of the shared meal. After a while, you gathered your courage to speak.

You sat on the chair cross-legged, idly pinching at your lasagna with your fork. The weight of the moment pressed on you, making your heart race. Finally, with a deep breath, you gathered your courage.

“Ben”, you began hesitantly, your voice shaking slightly. “I was thinking… maybe we could try again tonight”.

Ben paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern. “You mean… sex?”, he asked, his voice cautious.

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat.

Ben nearly choked, a torrent of emotions running through him. His gaze was intense, making you blush under its weight. He set his fork down, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Listen”, he began, his voice rough with emotion. “My outburst earlier… it wasn’t just about the missing sex. Sure, that’s a part of it, but it’s more than that. It’s about feeling disconnected, about us not being us”.

You nodded, your throat tightening. “I know that, Ben”, you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But still, I want to try. I know it’s about time”.

He leaned back slightly, studying you. His eyes softened, filled with a mix of hope and hesitation. “Are you sure?”, he asked, his voice tender. “I don’t want you to push yourself to that just for my sake”.

“I’m sure”, you replied, though your heart pounded in your chest.

Ben eyed you skeptically, a flicker of uncertainty still in his eyes. He cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood with a hint of his usual humor. “You know, if we’re doing this, I might need to remind you where everything goes”, he said with a small smirk, his attempt at a dirty joke making the tension in the room shift slightly.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a mix of amusement and embarrassment washing over you. “Ben, seriously”, you said, trying to keep a straight face but failing. “I’m sure. I want to do this. For us”.

His smirk softened into a genuine smile, though his eyes remained earnest. “Alright”.

Ben continued eating, though his eyes lingered on you, filled with a mix of hope and longing. The rest of the dinner passed in quiet contemplation, each of you lost in your own thoughts. When he finished his food, you began cleaning the dishes while Ben poured two glasses of whiskey.

Without a word, he approached you from behind, his movements slow and deliberate. As you dried your hands, you felt his presence close behind you, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt. He held one glass in front of your face, his arm brushing against yours.

“Here”, he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

You took the glass from him, your fingers brushing against his. The simple touch sent a shiver down your spine, a reminder of the connection you shared. You turned slightly, your back still to him, and took a sip of the whiskey, the warmth of the liquor spreading through your chest.

Ben leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You ready?”, he asked softly, his voice a mix of concern and anticipation.

You nodded, feeling a rush of nervous excitement. “Yes”, you whispered, your voice steady.

He took your hand, guiding you back to the bedroom. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, every movement deliberate and filled with meaning. He set his glass down on the nightstand and helped you do the same.

Ben’s hands moved to your waist, his touch gentle but firm. He turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

The kiss deepened, his tongue slowly moving into your mouth as his hands wandered to the hem of your shirt. He lifted the fabric gently, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside. His hands caressed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Ben’s touch was careful, reverent, as if he was rediscovering you for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your waist, moving up to your ribs and finally resting on your breasts. He paused, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded slightly, giving him the reassurance he needed. He leaned in again, his lips finding yours in another deep, passionate kiss. His hands continued their exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for too long.

You carefully pulled off Ben’s shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you revealed his toned chest. You bit your tongue in concentration, your eyes taking in the sight of his muscles tensing under your touch. His skin was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

Ben watched you with a mix of tenderness and desire, his hands resuming their exploration of your body. He cupped your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The sound seemed to ignite something in him, his kisses growing more fervent as he trailed them down your neck.

His hands continued to move, tracing the curves of your body with a touch that was both familiar and thrillingly new. You felt a rush of warmth between your thighs, a longing that had been buried beneath layers of grief and fear now coming to the surface.

As his kisses reached your collarbone, you let out a shaky breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of need and uncertainty.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire but softened by a deep, abiding love. “Are you okay?”, he asked, his voice husky but gentle.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yes”, you whispered. “I want this. I want you”.

Ben’s lips curved into a small, cocky smile as he whispered, “You’ll get everything you want”.

With a tender strength, he gently lifted you up, placing you on the bed. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment of closeness. He hovered above you, his body a protective presence, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race even faster.

“You’re so fucking beautiful”, he murmured. He lowered himself slowly, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and gentle. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

As he deepened the kiss, his other hand resumed its exploration, tracing the lines of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished. His lips left yours to trail down your neck once more, each kiss sending shivers of anticipation through you.

When he reached your breasts, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours for a moment before he continued. His mouth was warm and insistent, his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, drawing soft moans from your lips.

You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. Your hands tangled in his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you whispered his name, "Ben", the sound filled with a mix of longing and need.

Ben’s touch became more insistent, his mouth working its way across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in its wake. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of you with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his desire.

His lips moved lower, kissing a path down your stomach, each touch making your breath hitch. As he reached the waistband of your pants, he looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger but filled with care. "Are you sure?", he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes, Ben. I'm sure".

With a slow, deliberate movement, he slid your pants down, discarding them to the side. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze sweeping over your body with a reverence that made you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

He leaned down again, his lips brushing over your thighs, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the tension building inside you, a mix of nerves and excitement as he moved closer to your most intimate place.

"Trust me", he whispered, his voice a soft promise. "I’ll take care of you".

You nodded again, unable to find your voice, your body trembling with anticipation. Ben's touch was gentle but firm, his hands steady as he continued his exploration, his mouth following the path of his hands.

Every kiss, every caress, was a reminder of the connection you shared, the love that had brought you back together. As he moved lower, you felt a wave of warmth and desire wash over you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your fears and embracing the love you felt for him.

Ben’s lips hovered just above your wet clit, the heat from his breath adding to the intoxicating anticipation. You could feel him trembling slightly, the restraint he was showing only heightening your own arousal. He paused for a moment, savoring the tension between you, before slowly lowering his lips to your heated center.

His first contact was a feather-light brush of his lips, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your hips instinctively arched towards him, seeking more of his touch. Ben responded by pressing his mouth more firmly against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, a mix of tenderness and raw desire that made your breath catch in your throat.

Ben’s tongue moved in a slow, deliberate pattern, tracing circles around your clit with exquisite precision. Each touch was gentle, calculated to draw out your pleasure, to build it slowly and relentlessly. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, giving him full access to your most sensitive areas.

You could feel every flick, every lap of his tongue as if it were amplified, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body. His fingers joined the exploration, sliding along the folds of your skin, dipping inside just enough to make you gasp and push against him.

Ben’s movements grew bolder as he sensed your mounting pleasure. His tongue swirled directly over your clit now, applying a slight pressure that made your body jerk in response. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the wet, slick noises of his mouth working tirelessly.

He alternated between sucking gently on your clit and flicking it with his tongue, each switch driving you closer to the brink. You reached down, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on, your movements desperate and unrestrained.

“Ben, I’m—”, your voice broke off into a moan as he intensified his efforts, sensing you were on the edge. His tongue lashed with a purpose now, fast and focused. His fingers moved inside you rhythmically, mimicking the actions of his tongue, pushing you further into a spiral of ecstasy.

The climax built within you like a storm, tension swirling, tightening until it was unbearable. And then, with a final, skillful flick of his tongue coupled with a deep curl of his fingers, you shattered. The orgasm crashed over you in waves, a crescendo of overwhelming sensations that left you breathless and quaking. Ben continued his ministrations through it all, his mouth and fingers working to prolong your pleasure, milking every last shudder from you.

As the waves finally began to recede, leaving you spent and gasping, Ben eased off, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs, then up your body, each one a gentle affirmation of his care and affection. He met your gaze, his own eyes dark with desire but also glowing with love.

“How are you feeling?", he whispered, his voice husky with his own arousal, yet filled with concern for you.

“Amazing”, you managed to say, the word a breathy sigh. You pulled him up to meet your lips, kissing him deeply, tasting yourself on him, the flavor mingling with the deep, musky scent of his skin.

Ben’s hands caressed your face gently as he kissed you back, his body pressing down into yours, his erection hard against your thigh, reminding you of his own need still unmet. But in this moment, it was about connection, about reaffirming the bond that had been tested but was now growing stronger.

Without more words, Ben quickly shed the rest of his clothes, his movements filled with urgency and desire. He hovered back above you, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intense mix of love and longing.

As he positioned himself between your thighs, he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. “Are you ready?”, he whispered.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat.

Ben smiled softly, a hint of relief in his eyes. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, pausing for a moment to let the anticipation build. His gaze remained fixed on yours, searching for any sign of hesitation.

You bit your lip, nodding again to reassure him.

Ben began to push inside you, moving inch by inch with an almost agonizing slowness and gentleness. The sensation was a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretched you, your body adjusting to his size. You felt every inch of him, the overwhelming feeling of being filled after such a long time.

Ben’s eyes were locked onto where your bodies connected, watching intently as he slid into you. His breath was ragged, the sight and sensation of you wrapped around him again almost too much to bear. He paused every few moments, giving you time to adjust, ensuring that you were comfortable.

“You’re so tight”, he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. “I missed this so much”.

You could feel the tension in his body, the restraint it took for him to move slowly, to be gentle. His muscles were taut, his need evident in every tremor of his body.

You shuddered at the intensity of the sensation, causing Ben to pause, concern flickering in his eyes. “You okay?”.

You nodded, urging him to continue. “Yes, I’m okay. Please, Ben, don’t stop”.

Taking a deep breath, Ben resumed his slow, careful movements, inching deeper inside you. As he finally filled you completely, you couldn’t help but jerk slightly backward at his last, rough thrust. The suddenness of it made you whimper softly as he hit a spot too deep, too hard.

Ben immediately noticed your reaction and froze. “Did I hurt you?”, he asked, his voice strained with the effort to remain gentle.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting him to feel guilty. “No, it’s okay. Just…take it slow”.

He nodded, his eyes filled with determination to make this as good for you as possible. He pulled back slightly, then pushed in again with a gentler thrust, making sure to watch your face for any sign of discomfort.

Still, the size of him was always way too much for you, and after so many weeks without sex, it was even more difficult to handle. As he pushed slowly inside you, you pressed your lips together, trying to silence your whimper, but your nails digging into his forearms betrayed your discomfort.

Ben’s eyes were locked on your face, his expression a mix of concentration and concern. “I can stop”, he murmured, his voice strained, but you shook your head quickly.

“Please, don’t”, you whispered back, your voice trembling. “Just… give me a moment”.

He nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. Carefully, he pulled out, the sensation making you gasp softly. He paused, gathering some spit and coating his dick with it, hoping to ease the way for both of you.

Ben looked back at you, his expression tender. “Ready to try again?”, he asked.

You nodded, your body already missing the connection.

Slowly, he positioned himself again, pushing inside you with the same deliberate care. The added lubrication made it easier, and though the initial stretch was still intense, it was more bearable this time. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Is this better?”.

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the pleasure begin to build. “Yes, much better”, you whispered, your hands moving to grip his shoulders, your nails lightly grazing his skin.

Ben’s eyes remained locked on yours as he murmured, “Good”. He took a moment to adjust, finding a rhythm that felt right for both of you. His movements were slow and deliberate at first, his hips gently rocking against yours. The sensation was a delicate balance between pleasure and the need to accommodate his size.

As he continued, Ben’s hands roamed your body, his touch both reassuring and arousing. He caressed your sides, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, moving up to cup your breasts and gently knead them. The feel of his hands on your body, combined with the steady, intimate rhythm of his thrusts, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

With each gentle push, you could feel the initial discomfort giving way to a growing sense of pleasure. Your body adjusted to him, and the friction between you began to build a sweet tension. Ben’s breathing grew heavier, matching the increasing tempo of his movements. He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hips moved in a steady, controlled rhythm.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. The new angle intensified the sensations, making you gasp with each thrust. Ben responded to your reaction, his movements becoming slightly more urgent, yet still controlled. He was attentive, watching your face for any signs of discomfort, ensuring that you were both in sync.

The connection between you deepened with every thrust, every touch, and every kiss. Ben’s hands returned to your hips, gripping you firmly as he drove himself into you with a measured pace.

For Ben, this moment was overwhelming. He needed to hold onto himself to not come right away. He had missed this intimacy, this connection, so much that the sensations threatened to overtake him. Unable to remain quiet, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing your skin to muffle his groans as you kept clenching around him.

His breath was hot against your neck, and the feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin added to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each kiss, each gentle bite, sent shivers down your spine, intensifying the sensation of him moving inside you.

Your nails raked down his back, leaving faint red lines in their wake. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fought to maintain control.

“You feel so good”, he murmured against your neck, his voice thick with need. “So fucking perfect”.

His words sent a thrill through you, your own pleasure building with each thrust. You could feel the tension coiling in your lower belly, the familiar signs of an approaching climax. Ben sensed it too, his movements becoming more urgent, yet still controlled, determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure before he allowed himself to let go.

“Ben”, you gasped, your voice trembling with the intensity of the sensations. “I’m so close”.

His response was a low, guttural sound, a mix of a growl and a moan. He lifted his head to look at you, his eyes dark with desire. “Let go, baby”, he urged, his voice a rough whisper. “Come for me”.

In that moment, Ben knew for certain that no one could ever give him what you gave him. The connection, the depth of emotion, and the raw intensity were things he had never experienced with anyone else. His heart swelled with a mix of love and desire, and he felt an overwhelming need to be with you, completely and utterly.

As he urged you to let go, your body responded to his words, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Your climax hit you with the force of a tidal wave, your body shuddering beneath him. You cried out his name, your nails digging deeper into his back.

The sensation of you clenching around him, the way your body trembled with pleasure, pushed Ben over the edge. He thrust into you one last time, deeply, as his own release overtook him. His groan was low and primal, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside you, his grip on you tightening.

You knew that his tight grip would leave new bruises, but right now you didn’t mind. The intensity of the moment, the depth of the connection, overshadowed any discomfort. You felt that his climax was as strong as yours after such a long time without sex, so you didn’t criticize him for his control slipping slightly.

But as his grip grew stronger on your hipbone, you winced uncontrollably. Ben noticed immediately and relaxed his hold, his fingers gently brushing over the spot he had gripped too tightly.

“Sorry”, he murmured.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you pulled him close, pressing your lips to his with a renewed intensity. Your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid to let go. The kiss conveyed everything you felt—the love, the forgiveness, the need to reconnect.

Ben responded immediately, his own arms wrapping around you, pulling you even closer. The kiss deepened, filled with a passion that spoke of the weeks of longing and unspoken emotions. It was as if you were both trying to pour everything you had into that moment, to make up for lost time.

When you finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, a mirror of what you felt inside.

“I love you”, you whispered, your voice trembling with sincerity.

“I love you too”, he replied, his voice equally filled with emotion. “More than anything”.

You lay there in each other's arms, the world outside fading away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, united in your love and commitment to each other.

You didn’t even know how or when you fell asleep, but as you woke up in the middle of the night, you found yourself held close against Ben’s chest. His arms were wrapped around you protectively, his steady breathing a comforting rhythm.

Carefully, you tried to slip away, needing to use the bathroom. As you sat on the toilet, you winced quietly, the sensation of your sore and burning pussy reminding you of the intensity of your earlier intimacy.

“I hurt you, didn’t I?”, Ben’s gruff voice startled you, and you looked up to see him standing in the doorway, naked and his eyes heavy with sleep.

“Ben, you scared me”, you said, your voice a mix of embarrassment and surprise.

You looked at him with a gaze that should have told him to turn the fuck around, but he didn’t get it. He stayed where he was, concern etched on his face.

“Are you okay?”, he asked again.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. “I’m fine, Ben. Just a little sore… can you… give me a moment?”.

Ben’s brows furrowed, a mix of stubbornness and concern in his expression. “I’ve already seen everything, you know”, he muttered, though he finally turned around to give you some privacy. However, he remained in the doorway, his presence still very much felt.

You finished up quickly, still feeling the ache but managing to compose yourself. Washing your hands, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the walk back to the bedroom.

Ben turned around again, his eyes scanning your body with a mix of concern and appreciation. You rolled your eyes at his persistent gaze, feeling a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“I’m fine”, you mumbled, trying to brush off his worry. “You’re just, well, like I’ve told you a hundred times, not quite small”.

A smirk played at the corners of Ben’s mouth, his tiredness momentarily forgotten. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment”, he said, his voice tinged with that familiar cockiness.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Always the ego”, you teased, stepping closer to him.

Ben’s smirk softened into a genuine smile as he reached out, pulling you gently into his arms. “Can’t help it if it’s true”, he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sighed, leaning into his embrace. “Let’s get some sleep”, you said, your voice softening. “We both need it”.

He nodded, guiding you back to the bed. As you settled under the covers, Ben wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, a silent promise of his unwavering support.

“Goodnight”, he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“Goodnight, Ben”, you replied, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

As you drifted back to sleep, the ache and soreness faded into the background, replaced by the comforting presence of the man beside you.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰

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Part 7

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj

[crowsofdarkness]

Fallen: Chapter One

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fallen Angel! Female Reader.

Content Warnings: language, angst, fluff, kidnapping, violence.

Summary: The new Avengers recruit has many secrets, one of which Bucky is desperate to discover.

Authors Note: This is a little AU with Bucky! It will have six chapters! Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tags: @that-blonde-girl @starfly-nicole @bookofriverr @civilbucky

The silence was deafening, almost hurting my ears, as I sat on the edge of the bed in what had become my new home. The four walls encased me in causing my breath to become heavy and erratic so I did what I always did when I felt like this; walk out to the balcony of my room, letting the fresh air fill my lungs. 

Birds were chirping, the sun warmed my skin, and the lake behind my new home rippled with the wind. Some would call this scenery beautiful, relaxing, and would kill to have a view like this. 

And that was something I had done in order to receive this view. 

I never thought of this as a paradise; this was a prison. 

A sharp pain pierced through my spine and I grasped the railing of my balcony, a hard hiss falling through my lips. I let out deep breaths while I screwed my eyes shut to ease through the pain, something I had done so many times before.

Once the pain had subsided, I slowly opened my eyes and continued to stare out to the scenery below, hoping to cure the growing boredom. I had been living at this compound for a few weeks now and in that time, no one had come to check on how I was doing or if I needed someone to talk to. 

I never did. I was fine by myself. 

They were all too scared of me and what I could do. They all feared that I would turn against them in a second; I wouldn’t. I promised myself that I wouldn’t use my powers against anyone ever again. Ever since that day where I had gone too far and needed to be stopped, I knew that I could never trust myself around anyone. 

Anger radiated through me as I blasted my way towards the hoard of people, not caring if anyone was injured in the process. My mind was overtaken with grief. It had been years since that fateful day but I still couldn’t recover from the loss. The pain of losing her was too much to handle. 

The screams fueled me as I rolled back my shoulders, large, black, wings exploded from my back. A few feathers fell to the ground at my feet and with a quick look around me I could see the fear in everyone’s eyes. 

“The devil is here. We’re all going to die.” 

I merely smirked at the man that crouched at my feet. “I am not the devil but I can’t promise that you won’t make it out alive. Where is Ivan?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!” 

A fire ball appeared in my hand and with the other, I lifted the man up by his shirt. “Don’t make me ask again. Ivan is in charge of the Hydra group that’s hiding in this god forsaken city and I know that everyone here knows where the base is.” 

Bringing the heat closer to the man’s face, I smirked again. “Now, I’m going to ask again; Where the fuck is Ivan?” 

He continued to remain silent so with a shrug, I gripped the man's cheek with the flames and his screams vibrated against the walls surrounding us. The smell of burnt flesh filled my senses and I would be lying if I said that it didn’t bring a small smile to my lips. 

Hissing out in pain, I felt a hard object slam into my left wing, causing me to drop the man onto the concrete. I spun on my heels and came face to face with two people that I knew were on my heels, chasing me through the world. 

“Well, it looks like the Avengers finally caught up to me,” I spoke while picking up the object that hit me. 

Captain America’s shield. 

“You’ve been on the run long enough, Y/N. You need to come with us,” Steve Rogers demanded. 

I raised my brows. “You know my name? Wow, I can’t believe I’m on your radar.” 

He didn’t find my sarcasm as funny as I had. 

The man in the metal suit next to him sighed and lifted his palm to me, a light beam powering up. “Rogers wanted to be the nice guy; hoping some sweet talk will make you come with us. But clearly we have to do this the hard way.” 

I mimicked his hand, fire appearing. “I can do that too, Stark.”

He motioned towards my wings. “Hydra do that to you?” 

“These old things?” I flapped them a few times, creating winds around us. “I’ve had these for centuries.” 

“You need to come with us,” Steve repeated. 

I groaned and closed my palm, the flames disappearing. “Trust me, as much as I love the thought of being detained by Captain America, I’ve got better things to do.” 

“Clearly,” Tony noted while looking at the man who was writhing in pain at my feet. 

I clicked my tongue. “Casualty.” 

The shield clanked at Steve’s feet and when he picked it up, I gave him a wink. “Later boys.” 

Before my wings let me take flight, I felt a hard blow to the back of my head which knocked me to the ground, unconscious. 

With a sigh, I opened my palm and felt heat spread through my veins, flames erupting. They danced along my fingertips as I stared into the bright embers, letting the flames distract me from my thoughts and problems. With a snap, the flame jumped to my other hand and I let the fire ball jump back and forth between my hands, almost as if I had an actual ball in my hands. 

The door next door to me, a large figure stepping onto their own balcony. Within seconds the flames extinguished in my hands when I saw who had stepped out. 

Sunlight caught the vibranium of his left arm as he sat on one of the chairs, book in his lap. I could hear a soft tune coming from his lips and I bit my lip at the sight of him in a pair of black sweat pants and a tight shirt to match. 

His short hair suited him better than the last time I had seen him. 

He must have sensed me staring because when our eyes met, my breath hitched in my throat. The corners of his lips pulled in a small smile, hoping to get a chance to finally speak to me. I had done my damndest to avoid him because I couldn’t face what I was sent to do all those years ago. 

“Hi.” 

His voice was soft but I could still hear him even if we were a few feet apart. 

I kept my head down low and snuck back into my room, the door slamming behind me. With my back against it, I slid down to my knees as memories of the first time I had met Bucky Barnes tangled me in. 

[p2cresci87]

I’ve had this scene of an Elriel HC rumbling around my head the past couple of days. The HC is that Azriel gets hurt during a mission and Elain senses it. Like she knows exactly where he’s injured because she can feel the pain of his injury too.

Please bear with me as this is the first piece of creative writing I have done since high school, but also I hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Reblogs, comments, questions, feedback are appreciated ❤️

The three Illyrian warriors touch down in front of the River House, bloodied and battle weary. The routine reconnaissance mission Rhys had planned once Azriel alerted him of the suspicious activity on the continent quickly turned into an ambush.

Feyre and Nesta rush to their mates as they enter the house. Amren and Mor quickly following behind. Azriel notes the absence of one Archeron sister, but quickly pushes the thought of her aside. She was somewhere in the house, her jasmine and honey scent hitting him as he limped through the doorway.

“What happened?” Feyre asks Rhysand, stepping out of his embrace to eye him more carefully, clearly searching him for injuries. “I’m fine, Feyre darling” he states aloud, as if answering a question she asked him mind-to-mind.

“Ambushed” Cassian responds, “One of Az’s spies was captured and tortured until they divulged information of our arrival on the continent”. A shuddered sob leaves Nesta at his words as Cassian turns and brushes away a wayward tear trailing down her cheek. “It’s okay, Nes. I’m here” he whispers, leaning his forehead to hers.

Shame hits Azriel like a blow to the gut. He blamed himself for what had happened to his spy, he had trained them after all. But what ate at him the most was that he had placed his brother’s lives in danger as well. “I do not blame you, nor does Cass” Rhys speaks into his mind, “We knew Koschei’s army was growing, something was bound to happen sooner or later”.

A knock at the door silences the room. Nuala appears from the shadows to open it, revealing Madja on the other side. “Oh hello dear. I received word I was needed urgently at the River House and came as quickly as I could” the healer says as she steps into the house. Seven pairs of eyes look around at each other, the same silent question being asked amongst them. “Do you know who sent for you, Madja?” Rhys asks.

“I did”.

All eyes turn to the staircase as Elain comes rushing down. Avoiding everyone’s stares, she comes to stand in front of the Shadowsinger. Her eyes, Azriel notes, are red rimmed and shining with unshed tears, as if she’s been crying. Worry and anger simultaneously wash over him - Who hurt her? Who made her cry?

He had. Memories of that Solstice night come flooding back. The hurt in her eyes at his words “This was a mistake”. He had heeded his High Lord’s order to stay away from her but everything from that night - his words, the look on her face - haunted him every night since.

“Elain” Azriel whispers as he comes to rise before her, the movement causing pain to radiate from his side from all the blows he took during their impromptu battle. A pained expression crosses Elain’s face as she looks at his side. “You’re hurt”.

“I will be fine, Elain. I just need some -“

“That’s why I called her. I felt your pain and I called Madja as soon as I could. I..” a sob escapes Elain as she recalls the earlier blinding pain exploding from her side as she sat in her rooms, awaiting news of the brothers safe return. Of his safe return.

“You…could feel my pain?” Azriel asks, eyes wide, surprise flickering across his face. “Yes” Elain answers, “I can still feel it, right here”. Elain’s hand gently touches Azriel’s right side. Her fingers delicately caressing the exact spot he felt his ribs crack during the fight. “I..I don’t know how…and before anyone asks, it wasn’t a vision”.

Azriel can only stare at the female in front of him. Beautiful, even with tears streaming down her face and eyes, red and puffy from crying, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He never needed words with her, and now, knowing that she could somehow feel him within her, he needed to be close to her.

Azriel closes the distance between them as Elain too, can only stare back at him. With his wind blown hair and dry blood freckling his face, he is the most devastatingly handsome male she’s ever known. Elain always saw him, all of the things no one else seemed to notice, and all of the things that they did but never dared to address. Knowing she could feel him, sense him and his needs within herself, she too felt the need to have him closer.

Elain wraps her arms around Azriel’s neck, as his arms wind around her waist, welcoming each other into their arms. His face nuzzles into her neck and breathes in her sweet scent. Home, she feels like home.

The sound of a throat clearing breaks everyone out of the stunned silence from Elain’s revelation and the tender moment unfolding in front of them. “Like I told you lot before, if anyone can sense if something’s amiss, it’s a mate”. Madja turns towards the sitting room. “Now, come along Spymaster, let’s take a look at those ribs”.

[naomijoestar]

⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:･

Masterlist here <3

Genre: smut

Character: Joseph Joestar

Warnings: smut, NSFW, alot of edging, humiliation

Notes: This post is a part of my birthday special since it’s my birthday ;) I hope you enjoy <3 The other birthday special posts will be linked here once they’re all posted! Also happy halloween 👻

Please! - Joseph Joestar (NSFW)

Joseph grinned mischievously as he looked at you, his girlfriend. It was his birthday after all, and he wanted to make it one to remember. He began kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking lightly. You shivered under his touch, your body already responding to his advances. Joseph's hands roamed your body, caressing and teasing. He reached down and grabbed his hard cock, stroking it slowly. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he hovered over you. Joseph's lips brushed against your ear. He whispered dirty things about how much he wanted you. How he was going to make you beg for his cock. You squirmed under him as he continued talking dirty. His hand was still pumping his hard cock.

Joseph leaned down and licked one of your nipples hard, causing you to moan and arch your back. He took your other nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, all while still gently stroking his cock. Joseph released your nipple with a pop and looked into your eyes. His eyes were filled with lust and desire. He knew he had you right where he wanted you. Joseph leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth, tasting and exploring. You could taste yourself on his tongue. He pulled back and smiled wickedly as he lined his cock up with your entrance.

He thrust deep inside you in one hard stroke. You cried out in pleasure, your walls clamping down on his cock. Joseph groaned as he felt your tight heat. He began thrusting in and out of you, hard and fast. Your moans and cries of pleasure filled the room.

Joseph's pace quickened, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. He leaned down and sucked on your neck, nibbling and biting gently. You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, right at the edge. Joseph reached around and fingered your clit, circling it fast. You began to squirm and shake beneath him, your body tensing up.

He kept thrusting, harder and faster until you finally exploded around him, your juices coating his cock.

Joseph groaned as you tightened around him, your muscles clamping down on his cock as you spasmed around him. He thrust deeper, trying to hit that sensitive spot inside you.

Joseph increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even harder and faster. He reached down and began rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions. You whimpered and moaned loudly, your body shaking and trembling beneath him. But Joseph didn't let up, he kept thrusting deeper and faster, hitting that sensitive spot inside you over and over. You could feel another orgasm building, your muscles tensing and clamping down on his cock.

He knew you were right there, ready to explode. But he wanted to draw out your pleasure, to make you beg for release. Joseph slowed his pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back inside you hard. You cried out in frustration, your body trembling with need. He continued this torturous pace, denying you the release you so desperately craved. Joseph could hear your muffled cries and whimpers, your face buried in the pillow. He knew you were close, your body shaking with each deep thrust, but he kept going, denying you the release you so desperately needed. You whimpered and sobbed, your body writhing beneath his. Joseph leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Come on baby, you can take it. Give me what I want.”

You cried out in frustration, “Please, I can't take anymore! Please let me cum!” But Joseph just smirked and continued his relentless pace, fucking you harder and faster until you were begging and pleading for mercy.

He wanted to take things further, to really push your limits. With a sudden thrust, Joseph pulled out completely, leaving you panting and trembling beneath him. You reached down, trying to find your own release, but he grabbed your wrists and handcuffed them together. You cried out in frustration and humiliation, your body writhing with need. Joseph smirked and said, “Not so fast, baby. You'll cum when I say you can.” He left you there, naked and handcuffed, your body aching and yearning for release, begging him to just let you finish. Joseph leaned down and began teasing your sensitive clit with his tongue, circling it gently, but not applying enough pressure to send you over the edge. You whimpered and gasped, your body tensing with anticipation. He kept up this teasing pace, flicking his tongue across your clit, but never quite giving you what you needed. You couldn't decide if you wanted to beg him for more or tell him to stop. Joseph smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

Joseph pulled back, positioning himself at your entrance, and with power, slammed back inside you with so much force that the bed rocked violently beneath you. He added his fingers to your already stretched-out hole, the combination of his massive cock and his fingers overwhelming your senses. You were overstimulated, your body trembling and shaking with the effort to take it all. But after a short, intense moment, you finally reached your climax, your body convulsing around him as you cum hard. Your walls clamped down on his cock and fingers, your cries of ecstasy filling the room.

As your muscles pulsed around his cock one last time, Joseph slowly pulled out, careful not to disturb your delicate sensitive areas. He grabbed his rock-hard cock, stroking it a few times, relishing the feeling of your release milking him. With a loud moan, he shot his load all over your sore, aching nipples, marking his territory. He worked his way up to your marked neck, leaving his calling card there. Finally, he pried open your welcoming mouth, releasing his load onto your tongue, making sure you tasted his seed. Breathing heavily, Joseph collapsed beside you, his hand possessively resting on your stomach, content in the knowledge that you were truly his now.

If you’d like me to write anything specific for any jjba character/squad parts 1-7 you can request it! (I usually don’t write smut, this was only for my birthday and I wanted to surprise you guys)

[generalmoonpolice]

Paul Lahote x reader (fluff/angst)

Just a random little idea that I had.

I hope you enjoy - if you have any feedback I would love to hear it!

W/C: 1262

I was beyond angry as I glanced at my boyfriend in front of me. Trying my hardest, I willed myself to calm down. Exploding with anger wasn’t going to help anyone. Deciding to be the bigger person I tried to back away from him, trying to keep my wolf at bay. I could only hope that Paul would do the same. As I took steps away from Paul he stepped closer to me, shaking in anger. I could feel the anger radiating off him. 

“You’re friends with the leech lover.” He growled at me. It came across as more of a statement rather than a question. I didn’t respond, knowing that it was best if we talked about it another time. When we weren’t so worked up.

“We can talk about this another time.” I hissed at him, gritting my teeth together. My response seemed to make him angrier.

Without warning he pushed me up against the wall.

I heard Jared and Leah yell at him, but he didn’t seem to pay attention to them. Without realising what I was doing, my hand moved up and slapped him across the face. The room went silent, the only sound was our heavy breathing as I took a step forward. Tilting my head up my eyes bore into Paul��s. His brown eyes were full of fury but one thing I didn’t expect to see was fear. My eyes widened as I realised what was about to happen before he exploded into his grey wolf, his claws digging into me making me fall back.

I didn’t feel the pain at first, though I heard a scream that sounded much like mine. The pain hit all at once and I saw the grey wolf above me before everything turned dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pain was the only thing I felt. It radiated throughout my body and left a bitter taste in my mouth. I could hear breathing to my left and the continuous beeping of machines. My chest felt heavy as a groan escaped me. I tried to peel my eyes open to make sense of what was happening. When my eyes finally cooperated with me, a clean white ceiling was the first thing that I saw. 

A hospital.

Internally I knew where I was - the overly sterile smell, the incessant beeping of the heart monitor and the bright white walls only confirmed this. I just couldn’t piece together why. My eyes travelled further around the room where I was met with Emily sitting in the chair next to me looking at me anxiously with Sam standing behind her, the same look etched onto his face. When my eyes met Emily’s, she grabbed my left hand in hers. I looked at her hand in confusion when I saw the bandages on my chest. 

Suddenly everything came flooding back. Paul. The heaviness in my chest grew and I could feel my breathing pick up. Everything seemed too loud, too much. There seemed to be a ringing sound that reverberated across the room. Sam stepped forward seeing my panic and Emily’s hand tightened around my own. 

“Calm down. You’re okay. You’re safe. Paul is safe.” His words grounded me slightly, the ringing sound stopping as tears started to stream down my face. 

“Is he okay?” I asked. My throat ached as I said the words. Sam gave me a curt nod as the door opened. Half of me wished that it was Paul. The other half was too afraid for it to be Paul. I wasn’t afraid of him. I didn’t want him to be angry at me. 

However it wasn’t Paul that walked through the door, but Carlisle. His golden eyes met mine as his brow furrowed. 

“You healed rather quickly.” He muttered to himself.

“Wolf healing doc.” I attempted to joke. The sound of my own voice made me cringe as did the pain that came with the words. Carlisle gave me a small smile before his eyes flickered down to the board in his hands.

“He got you on your chest, neck and chin. You’re going to be on bedrest for at least 2 weeks - wolf or not. Definitely no exercise, no phasing and certainly no shouting.” My jaw clenched at his words, but I nodded nonetheless. Carlisle continued to tell me about an ointment I had to apply before he showed me how to re-bandage the wounds.

With a small “thank you” he left the room, leaving me with Sam and Emily once again. 

“Is he okay?” I asked the pair. Needing to know that he hadn’t and wasn’t doing anything stupid. Emily gave me a gentle smile. 

“He’s beating himself up, but he’s okay. You should get some sleep.” She said to me. I nodded and settled back into my bed before closing my eyes. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next time I woke up, Paul was in the chair next to my bed. His red-rimmed eyes met mine before more tears fell from his brown eyes.

I stretched out my hand towards Paul wanting him to grab it. When he did, I intertwined our fingers and took one of his larger hands in mine before tracing the lines on his palms smiling to myself. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel Paul’s eyes burning holes into me. After a few moments I finally looked at him. 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered to him, my voice raspy and soft. “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I need you to promise me something.” 

I glanced up at him, peering through my lashes to see his gaze intensely on my face. His eyes left mine to trail along the scratches that now sat on my chin and neck before meeting mine again. He gave me a hesitant nod as if he was afraid of what I was about to say.

“If you ever feel like you need to cool off then you just go. Don’t even think about it. You don’t have to tell me why or for how long. Okay?”

Once again he said nothing and only nodded. I grinned at him before bringing his hand up to my lips to press kiss on his palm. At this, he practically flew out of his seat before he pressed a firm kiss to my head. I tried to look up at him, but he buried his face in my hair and broke down into sobs. The sound brought tears to my own eyes as I rubbed his arm trying to offer him some form of comfort. He pulled back from his embrace and our brown eyes met.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do it and you were telling me to go cool off and I just wouldn’t. When I saw you on the ground there was so much blood and all I could think about was how you were dead and it was all my fault.” He stopped. Taking in another breath he said, “And the last time we ever talked was a fight.” I squeezed his hand tighter as more tears dripped down his face.

“You could never kill me,” I told him sternly, shaking my head. “You wouldn’t ever go that far.” I looked into his brown eyes, my heart clenching painfully. I could practically feel the pain and regret seeping from him. 

Moving forward I pressed my lips to his softly, pulling back quickly. The corners of his lips twitched upwards and he connected our lips again. 

“I love you.” He whispered to me. I didn’t respond, but connected our lips once more. 

[caesariawritesstuff]

could i please get a single rose 🌹 + 💋 with any version of the riddler ( dealers choice ig )

with the reader being a vigilante ( who has got a catwoman and batman vibe going with riddle boy )

but she’s been kidnapped by another rouge ( once again dealers choice ) and riddler finds her to go save her and confesses his love for her after she questions why he saved her

inspo prompts

“ since when did you ever care about me ?! “ since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce “

i also just wanna say your such an amazing writer i reread C&M anytime i’ve had a remotely bad day and ik you’re gonna do so much better than i could imagine on this prompt !! ( p.s i hope you have an amazing day (:

Trapped

Summary: Edward comes to your rescue, leading to a declaration of love.

Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warning: Gunfire, mention of drugs and blood

A/N: Ahhh anon, thank you so much for your kind words! They truly mean the world to me! 🥰 I hope you enjoy!

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

It was supposed to be a simple job. You’d been tracking the merchandise – illegal weapons and drugs – that Two-Face had been smuggling into the city for some time now. As a vigilante yourself, you’d spent the last several months taking down some of Gotham’s smaller operations – but this one was the biggest one yet. The one chance you had to really cripple Two-Face’s operation and finally put the bastard behind bars.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

You’d done everything right. Kept to the shadows, remembered your training, moved as silent as a mouse, creeping through the warehouse as you kept your eyes pinned to the goons who patrolled the cramped halls. One by one, you’d taken them down with ease, knocking them unconscious and dragging their bodies out of view. It wasn’t even hard – it wasn’t even a challenge. The idiotic goons didn’t even realize what was happening before you’d finally knocked out the last one. All that’d been left was to destroy the merchandise with one of your exploding gadgets, a small controlled bomb, and you’d be out of here.

So when you went to inspect the giant pile of guns and weapons and bags of drugs – what you didn’t count on was the ambush from Two-Face and three other men. Two-Face had immediately put his gun to your head, and your heart dropped into your stomach, the blood chilling in your veins. You were outnumbered, with too many guns trained on you and nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

That was how you found yourself now: tied to a chair, wrists bound tightly behind your back, the thick rope cutting into your suit. Even though the suit created a nice barrier from it rubbing into your skin, there was still pain radiating up through your arm from how tight it was. Your ankles were bound, too. Blood trickled down your chin, your lip bloodied and swollen. Two-Face hit you with his gun, making you see stars when it happened, and you were still reeling from the impact of the blow. The world swayed around you, and you blinked, trying to clear your vision from the shadows creeping along at the edge.

Can’t pass out, you said to yourself, over and over again. The last thing you needed was to lose consciousness in front of Two-Face and his men.

They’d regrouped, patrolling the warehouse again, and Two-Face was standing a few feet away, a gun held tight in his scarred hand as he barked orders to the rest of his men. You tilted your head back, groggy, the taste of blood filling your mouth. You swallowed down the copper taste and looked around at the warehouse: okay, there was no way out of here. Not when you were bound like this. You frowned, your brows furrowing, anger rushing through your veins. You weren’t normally the type to be the damsel in distress, but right now, you could really use a hero.

The thought made you shudder. You might be a vigilante yourself, but you wouldn’t call yourself a hero. Not the way Batman and Robin and the rest were. You just liked taking down the corrupt criminals and trying to make Gotham a safer place – even if that meant taking down the one man you had, strangely, found yourself not wanting to take down at all.

Edward Nigma, the Riddler, was that man.

You’d met him one night when saving a poor civilian from trying to steal one of his trophies, and was almost killed in the process. The Riddler had come on the screen and laughed at you for your valiant, yet nonsensical, efforts. He called you an idiot for saving the civilian and not letting natural selection run its course.

You’d smirked at the screen. “And you think you’re so clever?” you’d asked.

He’d smirked back. “Of course I am, my dear. Unlike you’ve ever seen.”

That was how it started with him – this strange push and pull, this back and forth. Whenever you crossed paths, there was a simmering tension thick in the air between you two. And, as it seemed, he was the one man, the one criminal, you could not bring yourself to take to the GCPD, no matter how many times you had him in your grasp. There was something strangely charismatic about him, and you found you couldn’t pull yourself away from him.

But…well, none of that mattered right now. Not while your life was on the line.

You lifted your eyes, once more finding Two-Face pacing back and forth in the room. He was mumbling something to one of his men that you couldn’t hear from your spot. But you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be leaving here alive – not without a miracle.

Dammit, you thought, cursing under your breath. How could you be so careless? How could you get yourself in this situation? The question rippled through your mind, frustrating you to no end. How were you going to get out of here trapped like this?

Squeezing your eyes shut, you counted to ten. Told yourself it was going to be okay, that you would make it out of here alive, that nothing was going to happen. You were going to get out of here and—

Gunfire.

It made you snap your head up just in time to hear it echo from down the warehouse. Screams suddenly erupted from the men patrolling as everyone out, panicked, desperate to see what the commotion was. It was chaos, and the blood chilled in your veins as you sat, your own panic crawling up your throat. More shouts and gunfire rang throughout your ears, and you strained in your seat to see what was going on – but within minutes, all the gunfire stopped. The screeching of tires and smell of burnt rubber filled the quiet space, as if someone had peeled out of the parking lot in a hurry.

And then there was silence. Deafening silence.

Before footsteps pattered against the concrete. But when you looked back up, it wasn’t Two-Face or his men at all.

It was the Riddler.

He stood on the other side of the warehouse in his green suit and bowler hat, a pistol in his white-knuckled grip. A speck of crimson stained the white collar of his undershirt. A look of pure rage and madness filled his eyes, and your heart leapt into your throat at the sight of him.

“…are you going to kill me?” you asked. The first to speak.

“Of course not,” he spat, walking towards you.

“Then why are you here?” you asked. Just the sight of him made every single part of you alight with warmth and desire – a desire you couldn’t control, or even want to control.

One of his brows quirked. “Do you really think anything goes on in this city without me knowing about it?”

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked.

He studied you for a moment, a curious look in his eyes as he finally reached you. Sweat beaded on his brow and up into his hairline. The intensity of his stare made you look away.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked with a smirk. “I’m here to rescue you, my dear damsel in distress.”

That made you scoff. “Seems like you’re doing more gloating than rescuing.”

“I do quite enjoy the gloating,” he said, his smirk growing. “But you do seem to have gotten yourself into a predicament.”

“I was handling it,” you mumbled.

He eyed you. “You call this ‘handling it’?”

That made your cheeks flushed. “I’m handling it,” you said again, though the lie was thick on your tongue.

“Mhm,” he murmured with a click of his tongue.

“Why are you even here?” you demanded, not wanting to fool around anymore.

“I told you: nothing happens in this city without me knowing.”

“So you were watching me?” you asked.

“I prefer to call it keeping surveillance.”

“Like a weirdo stalker,” you said. The words made you flush.

Redness crawled up his throat. “No. it’s not like that at all. It—”

“Then what is it like?” you cried. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve started a war with Two-Face for what? It’s not like you’ve ever cared before—”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Of course I care.”

“Since when did you ever care about me?” you scoffed out.

“Since fucking forever, you idiotic dunce!” he cried, throwing his hands into the air.

His words made you pause as warmth ignited in your bloodstream. Your throat tightened as you looked up at him for a long moment. “I didn’t think you were capable of caring,” you whispered, your voice a low murmur.

He shot you a look. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

A beat of silence passed as you considered the weight of his words. Maybe he was right – there were so many layers to him that you hadn’t even begun to peel back. You remained quiet as he dropped to his knees and pulled out a pocket knife to begin cutting the ropes from your wrists and ankles with a smooth, fluid motion.

“Then why save me at all?” you asked quietly.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he replied.

You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, but you only knew how you felt. Only knew what was going on inside of you, and how you felt about him.

“I…” you said, but trailed off your words.

He scowled and shot to his feet, spinning around as he placed his hands on the back of his head. You stood up, looking around, mouth tightening into a thin line.

“Why…Edward?” you asked, using his name.

That made him turn, like you’d unlocked something inside of him, his breath hitching as he faced you head on. “Isn’t it obvious, idiot?” he muttered. “I…love you. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve always loved you.”

That fateful day flashed through your mind, heart beating like a wild drum as the words died on your tongue. But your heart beat for him in the same way. It always had.

He studied you. “Every time we’ve talked, every time we’ve danced around each other, I can’t help the way you make me feel. And I’m sick of not telling you, so when I saw you were taken by Dent, I…I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

You smiled, walking back up to him, and pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft shush. His eyes widened as you pressed your lips to his. He pulled away for a moment, as if in shock, before leaning forward again to eagerly kiss you. His lips were rough and hard against your own, but when you pulled away, he was smiling.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, and pulled his lips back to yours once more.

[whorediaries-09]

i still do it for you, babe 🩷 bf!sirius black x gf!slytherin!reader in a secret relationship bc she's friends with regulus black, hiding and having the best night with siri in the ROR also HI, how have you been?

i've been really stressed lately, considering exams start from the 20th. anyways, how about you?

so high;

pairing- sirius black x slytherin!reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- did. ya'll. listen. to. freak. by. ldr. (demo).

ps- i hope ya'll like hehe.

the slut club

you ain't gotta say a word, just spark that, let's get burnt

he had you pinned down to the mattress, as he teasingly pressed kisses all over your face, slowly moving down your neck. the slow sensuousness of his kisses were contrasted to the way he roughly pounded into you. his cock was deep into you, hitting just the right spots inside you. the room echoed the sound of skin slapping and heavy moans of pleasure.

'i haven't felt you in so long,' he breathed, completely enamored by your body. you nodded, your mind too blank with consuming ecstasy to reply. you breathed heavy, tangling your arms around his neck, pressing his temple against yours. it was a never ending loop of pleasure that burned through you, simmering under your skin.

'i missed you so much,' you whispered, feeling his cock hit your g spot just right. sirius had your body memorized, and he could sculp you out, pore by pore even with his eyes closed. you were a drug, a fallen angel from heaven. he was high, not from his cigarettes but by you. he felt like a fucking domino, he'd fallen on his knees just for you, and worship you like his goddess. you'd gotten him good.

the tears of pleasure strained down your face, ruining your eye makeup. he could feel the heat radiate of your neck as he entangled his fingers into your hair, pulling your lips to his. he slid his tongue into your mouth, capturing you in a filthy and dirty kiss. his cock plunged in and out of you, your stomach boiling with the hotness of your release.

he could feel it. you were clenching your walls around him, curling your toes, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. he could feel your thighs shake. he slid a finger down between your connected bodies, rubbing your clit. he left your lips, a string of saliva following your swollen lips.

'cum for me sugar. scream my name as loud as you want to,' he begged, pounding into your convulsing walls. his ears wanted to hear you moaning his name like a sweet fucking melody. it was the fuel to his fiery desire.

you nodded, as you felt your coil of orgasm snap, painting his abs. you cried out his name, your throat raw and harsh. it was a cacophony of your moans and his when he continued pounding into you through your release. he chased his own, your puffy walls and moans fueling him to paint yours his.

'sirius, cum inside me, make me yours,' you encourage through gasps, digging your nails into his back. he gasps, as the nail hits the coffin, releasing himself inside you, painting your cunt with hot ropes of his cum.

he moaned, pulling himself out, and falling beside you. he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. he wanted to feel your skin against his, feel your scent infiltrate him, infuse him. he pressed soft kisses down your back.

'i love you so much,' he said, squeezing your hip. you turned around to face him. your eyes bore into his. they were blown with lust and love. you pressed a soft kiss on his nose and he smiled.

'i love you more...but i've to clean,'

'no,' he whined. you laughed, clenching your thighs together, hoping the next day wouldn't be much of a sticky mess.

'okay we'll do it tomorrow,'

******

'where have you been!' regulus shouted. he was normally a soft spoken person, but you'd missed a few lessons, and he was concerned. so when you finally showed up from god knew where, he exploded.

his eyes slowly wandered over you. he opened his mouth to say something, but didn't. you hoped sirius hadn't given you any hickeys you had to cover up.

'i-i slept in,' he stared at you skeptically.

'are you sure?'

'yeah!' you chimed, a little too enthusiastically for it to be an honest statement. he deadpanned an expression of thoughtfulness before he replied,

'you're wearing a red tie,'

[goldenherc9]

HERCULEAN GAINS: RISE OF THE SCALLY MASTER

Herculean Gains had always been known as the place where men went to become monsters—where Hercules Gold himself transformed average guys into hulking alphas. But no one was prepared for what walked in one humid afternoon.

Danny.

Already a beast of a man, Danny's thick Adidas track jacket strained across his chest, arms swollen with roid-fueled muscle. His shaved head gleamed under the gym lights, gold chains bouncing with every confident step. He smirked as the familiar scent of sweat and testosterone filled his lungs.

Hercules spotted him immediately. “Oi, you back for more, bruv?” Hercules asked, flexing casually, confident in his usual dominance.

But Danny shook his head, a cocky grin curling on his lips. “Nah, mate. I ain’t just here to lift.” He stepped closer, towering. “I’m here to take over.”

Hercules laughed—until Danny pulled a sleek black bottle from his gym bag.

"Scally Juice. Alpha Master Blend."

Danny handed it to Hercules without hesitation. “You've made alphas before, but you’ve never met a Scally King. Drink this, and you’ll understand.”

Hercules raised a brow but couldn't resist the pull of Danny’s pure, unshakeable confidence. “Alright, bruv,” he smirked. “Hit me.”

He cracked open the bottle and chugged.

The moment the juice hit his system, everything exploded.

Hercules staggered, muscles tightening. His pecs swelled even larger, chest hair thickening into a dark mat. His arms, already huge, ballooned outward, veins snaking like cables across his skin. His waist thickened, traps rising like mountains, his red tank top tearing apart as he grew.

But the changes weren’t just size.

His beard trimmed itself into a sharp, perfect chinstrap, jawline sharpening into something cocky, rough, and street-tough. His gym shorts morphed into tight black Adidas track pants, gold rings materializing on his fingers. Around his neck, thick chains glinted as his entire presence radiated pure scally dominance.

The transformation hit his mind just as hard.

His old cocky smirk twisted into something feral. He realized—he didn’t want to run the gym alone. Danny was the boss now.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Hercules muttered, admiring his reflection. “You weren’t jokin’, mate.”

Danny chuckled, stepping beside him. “Told ya. From now on, we run this place together.”

They strutted through the gym, their combined presence shaking the walls. But Danny had more plans.

As new members walked through the doors—skinny lads, gym hopefuls, cocky newcomers—they were greeted by Danny and Hercules, each offering a bottle of Scally Juice.

And every single one drank it willingly.

Each transformation was unique—some grew lean but defined, others roided out beyond recognition—but all walked out wearing tight track suits, shaved heads gleaming, eyes filled with loyalty and confidence, eager to be part of the Scally Empire.

Herculean Gains? Nah, it wasn’t just about gains anymore.

It was Danny’s Domain. Hercules grinned every time a new scally lad strutted past, flexing, proudly part of the new hierarchy. And he loved it.

Lads wanted to join. They craved the transformation. No one resisted.

Because who wouldn't want to become the most dominant version of themselves under the rule of the Scally Kings?

@freakyscallymusclemaster now runs the gym innit bruvs yous gonna be all scallies so cum join innit bruvz

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.28

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 27 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race for your heart

The walk back to the hotel was filled with tense silence. Franco kept his hand on your waist, but his grip was firmer than usual. You could feel the frustration radiating off him, his steps quick and determined, as if he were holding back something that could explode at any moment.

As soon as you entered the room, you closed the door behind you and turned to face him. His jaw was tense, his dark eyes fixed on the floor as he ran a hand through his hair, visibly upset.

"Franco," you called softly, but he didn't respond. You sighed and took a step closer. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or are you just going to keep acting like this?"

That was all it took for him to snap.

"I'm done with Oliver," he spat, finally meeting your gaze. "I'm sick of the way he looks at you, the way he takes every chance to be close to you, the way he acts like he has some kind of right over you!"

You blinked, surprised by the intensity of his voice. "Franco, you know he's just my friend."

"Oh, really?" he let out a sarcastic laugh. "Because it doesn't look like he understands that. And honestly, I'm tired of repeating myself. If he doesn't get it with words, maybe actions will make him understand."

Before you could react, Franco closed the space between you in one swift movement, his lips crashing against yours with a desperate urgency that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you even closer, as if he needed to prove something with every kiss.

You stumbled backward until the back of your legs hit the bed, and he used the moment to gently push you down onto the mattress. Hovering over you, his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a heated path until he reached your collarbone, where he started pressing small, possessive kisses, marking you as his.

"Franco..." you whispered, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his breath against your skin.

"Shh, mi amor," he murmured against your neck before placing another kiss there. "Let me remind you who you belong to."

And with every kiss, every brush of his lips against your skin, Franco made sure there was no doubt left.

The morning sunlight filtered through the hotel curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You stretched lazily, feeling the comforting warmth of Franco's body next to you. His arm was draped over your waist, holding you close even in sleep.

Carefully, you slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him, and made your way to the bathroom. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and reached for your toothbrush, but the moment you looked in the mirror, your jaw dropped.

Your neck and chest were covered in hickeys.

"Franco!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the bathroom.

From the bed, he mumbled something incoherent and shifted slightly, but didn't wake up.

Furious, you stormed back into the bedroom and shook him. "Wake up!"

He groaned, blinking blearily up at you. "Hmm? Qué pasa, mi amor?" His voice was hoarse from sleep.

(What's going on, my love?)

"Look at what you did!" You pointed at the dark marks scattered all over your skin.

His eyes trailed down to your neck, and instead of looking guilty, he grinned. "Damn," he murmured, sitting up on his elbows. "That's a work of art."

"Franco!" You grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it, making him laugh.

He caught the pillow easily and pulled you onto the bed with him, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Oh, come on, princesa. Yesterday, you weren't complaining." His voice was teasing, low and smug.

Your face heated instantly, and you pushed against his chest. "Shut up."

He smirked but didn't let you go. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "Never," he whispered against your mouth before kissing you again, making you forget why you were even mad in the first place.

You pulled away slightly, looking into Franco's eyes, still hazy from sleep. His smirk softened when he saw the concern on your face. You took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," you murmured, tracing soft circles on his skin. "You seemed... tense last night."

Franco sighed, his free hand coming up to brush your hair back. "I just—" He exhaled sharply. "I don't like how Oliver looks at you. How close he gets to you."

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. "Franco, you don't have to worry about Oliver." Your voice was soft, but firm. "I'm here with you, not him."

His jaw clenched for a second, but then he nodded, exhaling slowly. "Lo sé," he admitted, pulling you closer until your forehead was pressed against his. "I just... I don't want to lose you."

(I know)

"You won't," you whispered, tilting your head up to kiss him again, slow and deep, letting your lips speak the truth he needed to hear. "I'm yours."

Franco sighed against your mouth, his grip on you tightening. "Damn right, you are," he muttered, before rolling you onto your back, stealing another kiss as if he needed to claim you all over again.

Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part seven} 3.6k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

Cheers could be heard down every street in Iloa, the Lions stadium alive, living, breathing, exploding full of love and support, every voice showering down onto the field of ten or so men stretching, throwing around baseballs, or sprinting across the grass.

In the bullpen, the smack of DK’s hundred mile per hour baseball hitting the leather of Woozi’s glove echoed against the walls and carried up to the kids in their matching jerseys dangling their heads over the railings to watch them, calling down for them to throw a baseball up into the stands. Standing on the sidelines, coaches, other starting and backup pitchers, they’d grab whichever ball DK discarded and tossed it up to the boys and girls, watching their faces light up with joy.

A sweet smell lingered in the air, one mixing with that of the savoriness of the comfort foods the boys on the team indulged in after a victory, one they hoped would happen today. Pretzels, soft chewy cinnamon bites, ice cream stands around every turn, every corner of the stadium. Women and men wandered about with bright red shirts on, carrying bins of ice cold drinks, beers, and water bottles, their voices booming through and over the crowds eager to get their buzz on. Fans waiting in line at the stores, full of Lions merchandise, were calling them over, swiping their cards without checking the price, and chugging the can as best as they could before they were allowed to walk through the door. An excellent ploy, get them tipsy and they won’t care what they’re picking up off the shelves.

Bouncing in your black boots, skinny jeans on your legs and a silky custom Lions bomber jacket on top of a bodysuit, you held a water bottle in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other. Grooving to the music radiating the walls of the stadium, a pop beat from a music group that prided themselves on being the biggest fans of your brother, the cutest group of seven talented boys the Lions were now partners with, you pulled on the elbow linked with yours, accidentally rocking them with you. Sunglasses low on your nose, you turned and smiled. Latched to you tight, elbows locked, Ryujin licked her ice cream and raised a brow.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she said, letting you rock her to your heart's content as the two of you strolled through the first floor pavilion. “Is this that group DK likes?” 

“The group that DK is friends with?” Correcting her, she smiled and rolled her eyes. “We had a few of them over in the off season while I was home with him, they’re cool.”

Ryujin dodged a man barreling toward the seats carrying one of his kids in his arms while the other ran behind him. “Jesus,” she muttered. “This place is crazier than last season.” Catching the drips of ice cream down the side of your cone with your tongue, you winked to a group of girls around your age staring at you and Ryujin and gave them a wave as you passed by them.

“They need them to win,” you said.

“They need to use manners,” she countered, giving you a look.

Shaking your head, waving to some other people who actually called out your name and greeted you properly, you said, “Then we need them to win. You don’t wanna see these people when they lose.”

Ryujin, having been on guard for your sake since she arrived three days ago, gave the people a stare, not caring what they thought of her. She overanalyzed them all. Back in February, a little over a month ago, when the Mingyu story broke the internet, your name was drug through the mud. You weren’t so innocent either, though you were, you knew what you did, what had happened, but to the media you were a drunken mess homie hopper. 

The photos of Vernon safely placing you into his passenger seat couldn’t even compare to the photos of Mingyu and Daya, taken from far away, not up close like people would do to you when you were dating him. That thought alone disgusted you, that you weren’t worthy of certain boundaries like Daya apparently was, that you could have cameras shoved in your face while you were kissing your boyfriend in a public space, but there she was, on his lap, tongue in his cheek, and the photos and videos were grainy as fuck. 

He couldn’t defend himself. It took about twenty four hours for you to be able to face him, even at the training games they had played the following day you ignored him, sat in the stands with your sunglasses on, arms folded, legs crossed, only cheering and clapping when ‘Now batting, first basemen, Chwe Hansol’ was announced through the stadium. Simply to piss him off, of course. Videos of that hit the internet to no one's surprise, everyone was way too involved in the scandal that almost took down Vernon’s name as well.

The two of you spoke that night, the day after the story nearly imploded your lives, with DK and Vernon on standby, the two waiting in the hallway outside of your hotel room to Mingyu’s demise. Your precious, golden hunk of a boyfriend couldn’t say two words to come back from what he’d done. With grace, somehow, he listened to your telling of how the night went, how he’d acted in front of your brother, and what he’d said to Vernon.

His only reasoning, that wasn’t an excuse to how he ended up with Daya on top of him, was that she came onto him. Loosely believing it, that he didn’t realize what she’d been doing, you let him go with a hug and his thousands of soft apologies for everything he’d been putting you through without realizing. 

That was the Mingyu you used to know, before the money, before the fame got to his head, before he was one of the stars on the team, a huge name in baseball. The nice Mingyu, the one who’d catch onto the things your parents would say and give you a silly look with a roll of his eyes, the Mingyu who once upon time said he wanted to take care of you one day, wanted to give you a life you deserved. 

But, he was all talk. A hug, whispers of I’m sorry, it was as simple as that.

All the mentions of realization seemed to withstand the pressure of the media cracking down on him in interviews, the way people would run into him on the street and bombard him with questions of you, of Vernon, of the scandal, of what he’d done. Every single time he would own up to it. Left within him, though you broke his heart, wouldn’t forgive him, told him that you two did not work together, was the care he held for you. The love he said he had, which out of everything, was the one thing you wholeheartedly believed in.

Protecting your name, defending you, speaking about you with a softness in his eyes only when asked, he at least kept one of his promises. Giving you a life you deserved, a safe one. He gave you your space, he didn’t try to come back, he didn’t fight to hold onto anything, he respected what you had to say, what you wanted, which would’ve driven you mad if Vernon weren’t standing in the hallway, if you didn’t have history clinging to him, love for him. A boy that podcasts and drama influencers alike were calling stupid for involving himself with you, for getting between you and Mingyu, that if you two were to get together after this it’d be a shorter relationship than the one you’ve just come out of.

All the more reason for Mingyu to come out and admit to what he’d done, which in turn, destroyed Daya and Hoshi’s marriage.

Desperately clinging to whatever she possibly could, sloppily throwing stories together, making absolute dogshit up about you, about Mingyu, about your brother, she scrambled miserably to hold onto her husband and the beautiful, wonderful life he’d given her. 

You and Hoshi spent some time together in the days following the break up, bonding in a way you’d never expect. Across dinner tables after days of baseball, he’d sip his beer and tell you story after story about what a witch his soon-to-be ex-wife was. He never meant to marry her, which didn’t make him out to be partner of the year, but when they found out she was pregnant with their daughter he put a ring on her finger and owned up to the new life he was bound to live.

He wasn’t looking for an excuse to divorce her, to escape her, to get rid of her, but he wouldn’t say he wasn’t grateful that this ended up happening. As for his daughter, he wouldn’t give her up for the world, when he spoke on Daya their daughter never came up. It was all her, his now ex-wife, or in the process of becoming ex-wife. He’d always shower Tora with love, would show up for her, and give her the world whether he was with her mother or not. And that’s who Daya became to him, the mother of his daughter, nothing more.

She was the curse of last season after all, the fans had no problem discarding her after Hoshi made the one and only public post to announce his divorce.

In doing so, combined with Mingyu’s unspoken compliance, Hoshi aided in the repairing of your name, of Vernon’s name, and within weeks things started to turn around.

“I don’t like the way some of these people are looking at you,” Ryujin said, holding onto you a little tighter each time someone's eyes spent more than two seconds on you. 

Tugging her out of the way of a family staring at their phones then pointing to the signs above their heads, confused as to where they were going, you yanked her toward the row of stairs leading to the first base line. “Most are fine,” you assured her, pausing at the top of the steps. The man working the row gave you a smile and a nod. “How are you?” Returning the smile, you watched his cheeks blush.

“Fine, Miss Isla, and you?” he asked with another nod of his head.

Looking at Ryujin, then back at him, you nodded as well. “Fantastic. There’s three more behind us, they should-”

“ISLA!”

The high pitched scratchy scream struck your heart. Eyes wide, head snapping to look down at your seats in the first row, you couldn’t help the obnoxious screech that came out of you involuntarily, simply triggered by a glimpse of their beautiful faces. Ryujin slipped her elbow out of yours, accepted the ice cream cone you slapped into her hand, and let you go, discarding the sweets before leisurely following you down the stairs, not running like you were. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, skipping a few steps at a time, “Oh my god!” Heads were turned from the seats slowly filling the sections, you and your sisters shrieks gathering attention like clockwork. Even if you weren’t actively causing a scene, when the five of you were together people paid attention. 

Jumping off the last step into the row, you didn’t even have a second to look at any of them, to mess with the adorable outfits they’d thrown together, you were in their arms and their arms were around you, squeezing you, the four of you lost in whispers and Tori’s teary eyes. When Ryujin made it down the steps she wiggled herself into the middle, her hands grabbing onto three different parts of two different girls.

Aurora, Tori, Yuna, Ryujin, they were here. Once you found out they were coming to opening day you upgraded their tickets, you grouped them in with yourself and made sure they’d be down here on the field with you. It’d been months, and after the last few weeks, you needed your sisters. Partially the reason why Ryujin came days earlier after she’d gotten clearance from a few of her classes. Like DK promised, she stayed in his house with you, she hung out with your brother and actually got to know him for him and not the almighty baseball superstar he was made out to be.

She liked him as your brother more, and DK took to her in the same way. Within three days it felt like you were trapped with a big sister as well as a big brother with how they both ganged up on you, teaming together to tease you like big siblings should while whipping you into shape at the same time. The other three were set to come back to the house with you tonight, staying for the length of the three game series the Lions were opening their season with, and you couldn’t wait for them to spend time with the brother you spent so much time telling them about at Nasara.

“Tor,” you whined first as the group hug dispersed, reaching for her bronzed cheeks glowing in the March sun. Her glossy pout worsened, making you giggle, forcing your thumbs to her bottom lashes to keep her makeup in place. Tori came close to Ryujin in your heart, another trustworthy sister to share some secrets with, to open up to, she matched your try anything once energy, your party loving twin.

Grabbing your wrists, her red nails brushing your skin, she shook her head. “It is so good to see you, Isla,” she said, her voice quiet, half broken. “You have no idea what the hell we went through after you left, what we thought happened to you, it was so scary.”

A smile pricked your lips. “Ryujin throwing a sneaker at Yeji’s head?” Giggles sounded around you. “I heard all about it.” Wiping her eyes, you took her hands in yours and squeezed them, giving Aurora a glance. “I heard about everything.”

“How did you know?” Aurora asked, her observant eyes intriguing your own, the girl always on some mission to know. “You said something to me, do you remember?” Truthfully, no, you did not, and you weren’t at a point yet where you had the balls to admit it. Aurora seemed to catch on quick. “Before any of us knew anything… Caught onto anything, which, we didn’t, you knew.”

“And it cost you,” Yuna chimed in, laying a hand on your shoulder. Giving her and her chocolate curls a smile, you shrugged.

“I’ll be honest,” you whispered. “I thought it was obvious.” The laughter that broke out warmed your heart, thank god.

“Let’s not get stuck on this right now,” Ryujin pulled you out the girl's hands and moved you in front of a seat that looked straight out to first base. “We have a game to watch, we can talk about this later.”

Shuffling around the chairs, deciding who was going to sit where around you, an insane amount of questions were thrown your way, every single one involving Vernon.

“Are you guys dating?” Yuna asked from beside you on your right.

“Were you guys dating before? At Nasara?” Tori asked from your left.

Aurora poked her head forward. “Just so everyone knows, he told me about her first!”

“Shut up, let her speak,” Tori elbowed her leather jacket that so obviously belonged to Wooyoung. 

Ryujin threw her hands up, her eyebrows furrowed, the crease in her forehead deep. “I knew the whole time?!”

“Shut up, let her speak,” Aurora said to her, the two breaking out into giggles, throwing playful hands at each other. 

Tori rolled her eyes, her fluffy lashes fluttering as she looked between you and Yuna. “These two, I swear they’re on each other more than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Perking a brow, a smirk lighting up your lips, you leaned forward to witness them swatting at each other's hands, giggling like little kids. Yeah, you knew that one. “Ror,�� you caught her attention, and Ryujin’s, “You and Wooyoung? Finally?”

She blinked, many times. Tori took her bottom lip between her teeth, her face going blank. “I mean,” she started, shrugging, gaze flickering out onto the empty field. “Something like that.” Confusion filled your face and she smiled, a breathy laugh escaping her. “We’re not putting pressure on anything,” she clarified. “So many big things have happened this year, we just want to… Be.”

You knew that one.

Letting her know you understood her with a smile, you shifted to Tori who just finished taking a deep breath, her eyes fixed forward. “What about you?” you asked her, letting the other two go back to giggling with one another. Yuna listened in to them, paying no mind to the quiet way Tori spoke back to you.

“What do you mean?” she questioned within a whisper.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, “How’s Mingi? Mr Loverman? I miss seeing you guys be you,” you nudged her arm, “Your relationship is my favorite, I yearn to have what you two have.”

“Yearn?” She smirked.

“I know words, Tor,” you said, sitting up straight. Gesturing to yourself, you said, “Haven’t drank in two weeks, I’m remembering words I used to know when I was good at school, I’m tryna use them all, one word a day.”

Her eyes began to shine. “Two weeks,” she whispered. You nodded, feeling proud, keeping your anxiety locked away for the time being. “Isla, that’s great.”

“Thanks,” you sighed, accepting her hand she offered you. “It’s hard.”

“But you’re doing it,” she smiled.

“Longest streak yet,” you whispered, and she squeezed your fingers. “This doesn’t get you out of the Mingi question.”

Her face fell. “Damn it.”

“Don’t tell me you guys broke up?” you asked, and she turned toward you, flustered, her cheeks flushing of color.

“No, no, no,” she whispered as fast as humanly possible, “Not that, we didn’t break up, it’s just…”

“Soul said that!” Aurora’s cackle cut her off, Ryujin and Yuna laughing with her.

Closing her eyes, Tori took a breath before looking at you. “I don’t know how to describe it. It sounds horrible in my head, I don’t think I can say it out loud, if I try I either look like a jealous bitch or a shitty girlfriend.”

Placing your other hand on top of the one you were already holding, you smiled something soft. “It’s okay,” you said. “Thoughts are one thing, actions are another.”

Tori frowned. “I love him, you know I do.”

“Tor, we all know that.”

She glanced away, collecting her thoughts. The booming voice of the sportscaster sounded over the speakers and the now full stands erupted into cheers. “We’ll talk later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face as the Lions were called out onto the field, every person in the stadium leaping to their feet.

Adrenaline shot down your spine, your anxiety pushed aside by the excitement that buzzed within your heart. DK, the first to run out onto the field, shot a hand in the air, waving as the music blasted for their arrival, guiding them to their places on the field. Player after player, they ran out, hands in the air, greeting their fans, searching for their family in the stands, saying hello to cameras pointed their way. The field flooded with love from both players and fans.

Number seven hit the field, cleats in the grass, and your heart skipped a beat. This was it, the first game of the rest of his life. Brown curls popped out beneath his hat, curls you had your fingers in last night from the passenger seat of his car after Ryujin slammed her door shut and hurried up to your brother's house, Vernon dropping the two of you off after a shared dinner amongst friends. He took a second, pausing as the crowd went wild for him and his teammates. Tipping his chin backward, chocolate eyes wide, an absolute look of awe, he turned in a slow circle, attempting to look at every single person, until he found you.

The world went quiet around you, though everyone and your sisters still cheered with every ounce of power within them. A smile lit up his face, one he wouldn’t normally wear so publicly, too much emotion for people who didn’t know him. Watching him wear it now, taking in all the love the fans threw his way, you swore you could cry. 

He was meant to go to first base, everyone was taking their places on the field, the other team was on their way out, but once he found you he was stuck. Glued to you. Drawn to you. He couldn’t even say hi to your friends, his friends, he hurried over and grabbed onto the net separating the two of you, beckoning you closer. Stepping up to the ledge, grabbing onto his fingers that poked through the net, you smiled.

“Girlfriend,” he whispered, pressing his nose to the scratchy yarn.

Leaning into him, doing the same, your noses brushing, you whispered, “Boyfriend,” with a giggle.

“This is fucking crazy,” he said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“I’m so happy you’re here,” you said. “You made it.”

“Fuck,” he gasped.

“Remember to breathe,” you whispered. “You can do this.”

Sucking down a breath, he released it all too fast, whispering, “I love you,” before pressing his lips to yours, unafraid to let everyone in the stadium in on the secret you two have been keeping for two weeks now. A secret that you’d try to keep, that both of you wanted to keep, for yourselves, and yourselves only.

Though you knew, after this, #visla would be trending faster than anything.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[sosa2imagines]

Right back at ya.

Warnings- Jealousy, gun violence, pole dancing.

The bass thumps through the club, vibrating the floor beneath your feet. You and Lloyd had been enjoying the night, drinks flowing and conversation easy. But a woman, all slinky dress and heavy perfume, had set her sights on Lloyd, and he, in a playful attempt to make you jealous, wasn't exactly discouraging her advances.

A smirk plays on your lips. You weren't threatened, not one bit. In fact, you were mildly amused. Taking a confident stride, you reach for Lloyd's half-finished scotch, downing it in one smooth gulp. “Someone needs a dance partner…” you declare, your voice husky from the drink. The woman looks at you with a scowl, you ignore her.

You go to the bathroom, you did manage to find a pair of scissors. Cutting your dress on each side, like slits.

Lloyd watches, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as you head towards the centre of the dance floor. The music shifts. The familiar pop beat washes over you, and you move with it.

‘Here we are, a careful distance Here's my heart, what's left of it In this town, I used to listen Once, Once, Yeah’

Your confidence takes centre stage. You glide across the floor, your body moving in perfect rhythm with the music. As the first verse plays, you execute a series of basic steps like grapevines, hip rolls, and isolations, showcasing your control and fluidity.

‘I had hope, blind faith Had as much as you can take’

The chorus hits, and you gracefully ascend the nearby pole, the smooth metal cool against your skin. Your movements become more sensual, your legs wrapping around the pole as you perform a slow spin, your eyes holding Lloyd's gaze with a playful intensity. Because of the cut, your thighs are on display.

‘Ashes burn the morning after Only know I'm here to stay I was so, I let you see me That was dumb, but that's OK Tripping down to your place What is love anyway’

You continue your ascent, showcasing your strength and agility by twirling around the pole gracefully, your body forming a perfect line against the pole. As you descend in a controlled slide, your eyes lock with Lloyd's, a silent challenge in their depths.

‘Who or whatever you do Don't let anyone love you Touch them where it hurts And then you'll leave’

The final chorus explodes, and you erupt into a flurry of impressive moves. You spin, you dip, you showcase intricate footwork around the pole, your confidence radiating outwards. The entire club is captivated, their gazes drawn to your captivating performance.

Lloyd, his earlier amusement fading, watches you with a mixture of awe and something akin to possessiveness. The other woman is forgotten, a mere afterthought in the face of your captivating display. He can't tear his eyes away, his gaze tracking your every move, a silent apology forming in his eyes.

‘I'm only gonna let you kill me once I'm only gonna let you kill me then some I'm only gonna let you kill me Once, Once, Once, yeah’

As the song reaches its climax, you descend from the pole, the crowd erupting in cheers and whistles. A line of guys gathers around you, mesmerized by your seductive performance.

Despite the numerous men surrounding you, you weren't scared. In fact you were waiting for the sound, that is sheer music to your ears.

As one of the guy, was about to approach you, the sound of gunshots suddenly cuts off the applause and cheering from the crowd. The guy who was about to approach you is startled and backs away, clearly scared. The sound of the shot causes a bit of chaos and commotion in the room, breaking up the previously euphoric atmosphere. And you smile.

Lloyd, was the one who fired the shot, silently threatening the guys, who were approaching you to stay away. In a silent but powerful display of his protection and jealousy, he ensures that no one can encroach on you or try to take you away. It was a subtle yet powerful display of his love and possessiveness.

You return to Lloyd, a playful smile on your lips. “Ready for a real dance partner?” you ask, extending your hand.

Lloyd takes it, his own smile sheepish. “Absolutely,” he says, his voice low with a hint of something more. The playful competition is over, replaced by a renewed appreciation for the woman who had just set the dance floor on fire.

His woman.

The night, once threatened by a bit of childish jealousy, now held the promise of something far more captivating.

TAGLIST- @imyourbratzdoll @nekoannie-chan @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @emerald-writes @winterslove1917

[trafficlife]

Kiss Me Quick, Steal Every Secret I Keep

Etho sees his hard task as a test of skill more than anything else. He thinks it's time he shows Tango what he learned.

Word Count: 3041

A gift for @acolorboom

The reward is none.

Etho stared up at the darkening sky, a collection of whispers flooding his mind.

The risk is great.

He held his breath and closed his eyes. He could only hope that the task wouldn’t be completely impossible.

Let me open the door.

At least, for the most part, Etho was good at completing his tasks. How bad could this one be?

Accept your fate.

The scroll appeared in front of him, an ominous aura radiating from it. He walked away from the Secret Keeper—it’s been a few weeks, yet it still gave Etho chills—to read his secret privately.

A few words stood out almost immediately: Grian, wither, warden, battle, deep dark. And surprisingly, Etho actually felt excited for this task. Would it be chaotic? Absolutely, but that’s what these games were made for. He was also very happy that Grian was tasked with the summoning wither—the last time he tried to bring a warden up to the surface, he ended up dying. 

Etho grinned behind his mask. An idea was already forming in his head: he wanted another person to come with him. But Etho didn’t need help. What he needed was an audience. And he knew exactly who would be interested in watching this.

****

“.... Hold up, you want me to do what?”

“I told you: I want you to come with me and see me bring the warden up to the surface.”

Tango blinked several times at Etho, trying to process the absurdity of this situation: Etho had walked onto the Heart Foundation island and almost immediately grabbed Tango’s sleeve and pulled him away from Skizz and BigB. Then, he tells Tango this plan, which pretty obviously seems to be a task. Tango slowly lowered his rose-colored glasses for extra flair and chuckled. “You- You realize this is a crazy idea, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you realize that this could go either very right or very wrong?”

“Yes.”

Tango pursed his lips, tail swaying behind him. “Well, lucky for you, I do like me some chaos! It would be very impressive if you also succeeded to lure the Warden up.”

“I hope I will. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

A surprised noise escaped Tango’s throat and he felt his face burn. The way Etho said that, with a voice sweeter than honey, coupled with a stare so intense but still so gentle, made Tango short-circuit. And Etho, the smug bastard that he was, knew about this. He walked over to Tango, leaning over his ear and whispering “I want to show you what I’ve learned from your game.”

If dying from being too flustered was a thing, Tango would’ve exploded then and there. However, he was already very close to doing so: his face, neck and ears exploded with heat and his pupils were blown wide. His tail dragged across the cherry blossoms, setting them on fire, but he was too flustered to notice. 

Etho chuckled softly and, oh, he was doing this shit on purpose wasn’t he? He stomped on the flames, leaving black petals on the ground. Tango blinked to look at Etho again, trying to hold on to what was left of his resolve. 

“Fine, then.” Tango purposefully ignored the way his voice wavered and he hoped Etho did too. “Show me what you got.” 

****

Somehow, Etho knew exactly where to go when heading to the Deep Dark. Not once did he turn around or hit a dead end; he kept going, as if the directions were seared into his mind.  He was so confident, it was both impressive and suspicious.

“How do you even know where to go?” Tango asked, as he set up a ladder for them to return to the surface later.

“I stumbled across the Deep Dark at one point while I was mining,” Etho said. “I figured I’d save the location, in case I felt like doing something… Well, crazy.”

Tango raised a brow. “Really… Sounds like a task to me.”

“Does it, now?” Etho turned to look at Tango again, the fabric of his mask twitching as he smiled underneath it. “Why don’t you guess what it is?” The question came out a soft, tender whisper that faintly echoed off the cobblestone walls.

Tango sucked in a breath.

Fuck.

That was the only way to summarize Tango’s racing mind: Fuck.

He was green so he couldn’t guess—both he and Etho were aware of that. But even if he wasn’t, would he want to guess? Absolutely not. 

Etho came to Tango, wanting him to see Etho bring the Warden up. And Etho wanted to make Tango proud and not disappoint him. The thought of it made Tango giddy and his stomach swarmed with butterflies. However, in the very back of his mind, a condescending voice hissed at him: This is only a task. He doesn’t really mean what he says. He wasn’t going to listen to that voice. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having doubts.

“Tango?” Etho’s voice brought Tango back to Earth. “Tango, you good? You’ve been staring at me for a while… Are you thinking about what you want to guess?”

Tango slowly shook his head, swallowing thickly. “No… No, I’m not going to guess,” he responded slowly. “You know that I can’t guess either way, I’m still green!”

“Fair, fair. But if you had to guess, what would you say?” Etho asked, as he went back to digging.

“I don’t know, you have to bring the Warden up to the surface and make sure it kills someone? You do have a hard task and it’s not like this”—Tango gestured randomly— “is a piece of cake.”

It was time to summon the Warden.

Etho sighed. “That’s not it. If only it were that simple—” Sculk coated Etho’s pickaxe and the stone that he had mined. He raised a brow, shaking the sculk from his pickaxe. “Well… Maybe this’ll be easier than we thought.” He made a larger hole for Tango and himself, and the two of them crawled into the Deep Dark.

As expected, it was pitch black, the only light coming from Tango’s tail. Sculk was everywhere, creating web-like patterns on the ground and crawling up their legs. There were some shriekers visible, along with sculk sensors that were barely obscured by its surroundings. They swayed slowly in the distance, similar to how kelp does underwater. Tango took a deep breath, heart pounding against his ribcage. He met Etho’s gaze and they nodded in sync.

But before Tango could leap down, Etho gently grabbed his sleeve. “Are you going to be okay?” 

“Huh? Why?”

“We’ll need the water elevator.”

“Oh. Right…” Tango grimaced a bit at the thought. He couldn't take damage from water but it didn't make swimming any less unpleasant.

“We could also make stairs,” Etho suggested, “if that makes you more comfortable.”

“What, and risk getting stuck and dying to the warden? I don't want that happening to either of us. I'll…” Tango took a deep breath. “I'll take my chances with the water.”

“Are– are you sure?” Etho asked hesitantly. His concern was very touching, Tango has to admit. But the water was far less risky than the stairs. 

“I'm positive.” Tango smiled. “But, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Now c'mon, let's go.” Etho leaped down from the ledge he made and crouched down. But Tango still sat there, Etho’s sincere words looking in his mind.

Why wouldn't I?

That was a good question, why wouldn't Etho worry about him? Tango couldn't even say he hated Etho, though they'd had their differences in previous games. Tango didn't know if he loved Etho either but, with how eager he is to spend time with Etho, it was becoming more and more obvious.

“Tango!” Etho whisper-shouted. “You coming?”

“Yeah- Yeah, hold on.” Tango leaped down, one of the sensors picking up on his movement. Thankfully, the shrieker didn’t set off prematurely. They lurked closer to a shrieker, like wolves stalking a sheep. Only they knew that the sheep could strike anytime. He met Etho’s gaze and nodded, communicating with his eyes. I’ll watch your back.

The ground cracked. A dark claw emerged from the fragmented sculk, followed by a low growl. Etho whipped his head towards Tango, handing him a water bucket and making sure none of it spilled. “Get up the ladder- pour down the water when you reach the top.”

Etho understood instantly and went closer to a sensor, making a swift movement.

The shrieker activated in sync with the sensor, the wail bouncing off the walls. Once it faded away, there was tranquility for a moment. They knew very well that the calm wasn’t permanent.

Tango nodded, holding the bucket with one hand and climbing the ladder with another. He shouldn’t have been worried about Etho; he was essentially an expert at this and was already on his way to winning Decked Out. But still, there was a lingering fear that Tango just couldn’t shake off. Maybe it was the nature of this game. If Etho were to get hit—which Tango doubted would happen—he couldn’t recover easily. And if Etho died, it’d set their progress back. Tango knew Etho was strong. Strong, quick-witted, charming, sensible… For goodness’ sake, Tango, this was a life-or-death situation, it was not the time to fawn over Etho.

Tango could feel the ladder shake underneath him, the heavy footsteps of the warden sending shivers up his spine. He knew Etho could avoid the warden but he didn’t want to delay him. The moment he reached the top, Tango took his bucket and poured it down, creating an elevator for Etho to go up. Tango leaned over the edge, eyes wide with anticipation. “Please, come up all in one piece,” he murmured under his breath, despite his confidence in Etho’s skill.

Suddenly, there was an explosion. 

It was mostly muffled but still loud enough to make Tango jump. And it sounded like it came from underground.

Tango physically felt his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. No, no, no, no, no, please don’t let Etho be dead. Etho was only green but the thought of him dying made Tango sick with dread. He pulled out his communicator, frantically looking through the names, and-

He was honestly torn between sighing in relief and continuing to hold his breath.

Good news: Etho didn’t die. Bad news: Lizzie did. And Tango felt incredibly bad, especially since she’d be alone the entire game. 

 In the water, he saw a figure slowly rise to the surface and heard a low growl from below. Etho’s head popped out of the water, brushing his soaked hair back (which wasn’t hot at all, thank you very much!) and swiftly climbed out. “Warden- warden’s on its way. Stay close to me, I don’t want to lose you.”

Tango nodded, tail flicking behind him. The warden crawled out of the water, outstretching his limbs as its tendrils clicked. Tango felt Etho grab onto his wrist and pull him away, paying attention to make sure the Warden was following them. “We’re bringing him to spawn,” Etho murmured against Tango’s ear, his breath lightly tickling his skin. Tango’s own breath hitched but he still managed to nod. “By the way… What was that explosion sound?”

“Lizzie. She died.”

Etho winced a bit, some remorse flickering in his eyes. “Oh, gosh… That really sucks. We probably should’ve gone to her party, huh?”

Tango nodded solemnly. “Yup. But hey, we can make it up to her after the game ends! That’s the least we could do right?”

Etho chuckled a bit. “Ah, Tango, you’re always so thoughtful.”

Tango beamed proudly. “I try to be!” 

The warden was right on their heels, stumbling about and flailing its arms around. Somehow, Tango and Etho didn’t run into anybody for a long while. The moon was high in the star-speckled sky, shining down ominously as if it knew the chaos that would follow. Eventually, they saw Grian talking to Scar. Grian saw Tango, Etho and the warden waddling behind them, a mischievous smirk on his face. He was hugging something black to his chest and- wait, was that a wither skull?

Tango blinked several times, trying to make sure that he was seeing properly. What was that pesky bird planning? BigB, who had just approached Scar and Grian, seemed to notice what Tango and Etho were planning because his jaw dropped and his eyes widened. When Scar turned around and saw the warden, he was so startled he was pushing back on his wheelchair.

“Etho! Is this- is this central enough?” Grian asked, trying to stifle laughter from Scar’s reaction. He moved closer to the firepit, setting up soul-sand in a very suspicious position.

“Wh- Grian, what are you doing?!” Scar asked, having now noticed the wither skulls that Grian was holding. Scar scrambled to take the skulls from Grian before he placed them down but Grian was too feisty to let go. Tango watched the spectacle, eyes wide. He then turned to Etho, who had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Clearly, there was much more than he was letting on.

“Wait, Etho, did you know about—?” 

Tango was interrupted by a loud, raspy hiss, as a wither emerged from the soul sand, growing in size and flying into the sky, obscuring the moon. There was absolute chaos. The warden had stopped following Etho and Tango and went to chase the next player it detected, wither skulls rained down from the sky, and everyone was screeching “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” at the instigators.

Grian had the largest shit-eating grin on his face and Etho definitely had a similar expression under his mask. Tango, on the other hand, was biting his lip to keep himself from mirroring that expression. He should have been more scared by the wither but he really wasn’t. Partially because he was so close to Etho and that mattered more than anything. 

Mumbo and Jimmy seemed to be running towards the warden rather than away from it and they because of it. The sonic boom rang in Tango’s ears, in synchrony with the lighting that struck. First Jimmy, then Mumbo right after. The flash made Tango’s heart jump but Etho remained completely calm. 

“Where’s the wither?” Tango asked, running alongside Etho.

“Guys- guys, please.” Scar, in his wheelchair and somehow outpacing the wither, rolled up next to Etho and Tango, scared shitless. “Please, do- do you want to give me a hand?” The skulls rained down behind the trio like a meteor shower, plummeting into the Earth and creating rather large holes. The grass and the flowers began to wilt, shriveling up and dying as the skull drained the life out of them. “Please- I don’t know how much longer I can keep up with this—” 

Before Etho or Tango could respond, the two of them fell into a pit that Scar narrowly avoided. Scar went back to being chased by the wither, begging for others to come out and help him, by leading the wither directly into their bases. Honestly, the fact that Scar was able to avoid the wither for this long was incredibly impressive. 

Tango groaned a bit, bringing his hand up to his hair, accidentally elbowing Etho’s chin in the process. “Oh, sorry, I-” He immediately shut up when he noticed the position they were in. Etho was directly on top of Tango, nearly laying on his chest. Etho’s eyes were piercing through Tango’s, as if he wanted to read his soul. And Tango couldn’t help but wonder, would Etho know how Tango feels about him? 

Tango didn’t really want to get out of this position. And, since Etho didn’t move, neither did he. Their bodies were flush against each other, and Etho’s face was so close, his white hair was brushing against Tango’s skin. The mask slipped off of Etho’s face and-- if he lowered himself any more, their lips would be touching—

Oh, void, the realization that he was so close to kissing Etho made Tango’s face bloom bright red.

“Tango.” Etho’s voice was a hushed whisper and, to anyone else, it would’ve been completely muffled by the wither’s explosions. But Tango kept all of his focus fixated on the man who was laying on top of him, ignoring the wither and the world that was falling apart around them. And it was all because Etho was here, his world was right here. “I didn’t let you down, I hope.”

“Never,” Tango gasped instantly. “You could never let me down.”

Etho chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.”And then he leaned in, closer and closer and closer until it was finally enough. His lips were warm against Tango’s, and it made him melt almost instantly. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for this forever. Tango’s hand snaked up into Etho’s hair and oh goodness, it was so soft. 

“Etho- Etho, the wither killed the warden!” 

“Etho, stop making out with Tango, and come press the damn button!”

Grian was shouting at them from… somewhere. But they were too busy to care.

 Tango, dizzy from suffocation, reluctantly pushed Etho off of him. “Gah… I had a feeling that part of this was part of a task.”

“Well… Not the part where I asked you to come with me,” Etho murmured. “I did that voluntarily. I was serious when I said I wanted to impress you.”

Tango couldn't stop the giggles climbing up his throat, a large smile on his face. “You did, Etho, you really did!”

“Are you talking about my warden wrangling, or the kissing?”

“... Yes.” Tango smirked. “I'm not going to elaborate. Go press that button!”

Etho nodded, lightly kissing Tango on the cheek, putting his mask on and leaving with Grian to the Secret Keeper. Tango lay there in the withered grass, hands on his cheeks and grinning. Nothing could ruin the happiness and satisfaction he felt at this moment.

… Not even the fact that Tango forgot to complete his own task. 

He'd make it up next session. But now he just wanted to make out with Etho for the rest of this session.

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

To Stay

Humbly offering my 1 exclusively Lokius smut to the fandom. Heavy on the feelings as is my vibe.

Set immediately after season 2, episode 1. Loki and Mobius need to take a temporal radiation decontamination shower.

“There’s, uh, only one decontamination shower,” Mobius explains, nodding towards a room on their right. “You should go first. You got hit with a lot more of that temporal radiation than I did, especially since you weren’t wearing a suit.”

Loki smiles at the protective bite barely hidden beneath Mobius’ words. They’d fought about this earlier—right before Mobius had kissed him.

They haven’t had a chance to talk about it since.

Loki hopes they do now.

“And don’t try to tell me you’re a god and it didn’t affect you,” Mobius continues. “Temporal radiation affects everyone. No, you need to shower first. Don’t even think about arguing about this. Who knows what-”

“Ugh, on and on about the dangers of temporal radiation,” Loki huffs. “Why don’t we just use the shower together?”

The words are out of Loki’s mouth before he has a chance to think about them. He had only meant to interrupt Mobius’ incessant worrying, but now the implication hangs heavy between them.

Loki gulps and coughs awkwardly. “You’re freezing,” he points out. “And I don’t think you were supposed to take that much radiation either. OB might remain convinced about this ‘all powerful duct tape,’ but I am not.”

His stomach flips at the thought of what might have happened if Mobius had stayed on the gangway a second longer; if Loki hadn’t been able to find his way back. He shakes his head against the thought. That future didn’t happen; it would never happen. He has seen a future without Mobius by his side and it is unbearable. Now that he has found his way back, he isn’t letting go.

Loki closes the distance between them and takes Mobius’ hand in his.  “And I don’t want to be alone.” He tightens his grip around Mobius’ hand, eyes pleading. “Please.”

His last word is barely more than a whisper and yet it shatters the silence with the force of all the timelines exploding at once.

Mobius’ lips crash into Loki’s. 

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